#iron man is my favorite so bring in the fucking tears i am ready

[allofuswantgwinam]

me watching endgame rn like i haven’t seen this work of pure heartbreak 600 times

#marvel #i just fucking can’t even #when clint and Natasha go to the mountain together it really just destroys me everytime #it’s really a masterpiece but like i cry so much #iron man is my favorite so bring in the fucking tears i am ready #the avengers #iron man #avengers end game #i miss them #my mother is laughing at my pain it’s not cool #🥵🥵

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. ��i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel

[pigeonp0st]

Oh you could write one where reader and Supergirl are fighting together against some supervillain and reader gets hurt and almost dies and Kara is freaking out because she can't lose her girlfriend and just... angst (please don't kill reader though, i'm begging you)

Kara Danvers x Reader #5

Words: 1,905

Warnings: Angst, Explosion not described in detail. Just an aftermath.

Notes:

MWHAHAHA! I technically didn’t listen to your plead...so i’m sorry? (Thank you for the request and sorry for all spelling mistakes)

——

They were kids.

You weren’t bulletproof like Kara, definitely not grenade proof, you knew that...but they were kids. Kids clutching onto their mom looking terrified. Terrified that their mom would get hurt, terrified that the three of them were going to die.

You’re terrified too. Lately as your life has gotten better with Kara, beautiful, caring Kara, you’ve been getting more scared everyday, scared that something was going to happen to ruin your happiness.

The fear is almost enough to paralyze you when you see the latest National City supervillain get ready to throw the grenade, but alas...when the man throws the grenade the stupid instinct to protect overtakes you and you jump into the air to catch it like a ball, before it can get to close to the family.

You’re more invincible than them, even if you’re not nearly as invincible as Kara...it’s time to test that theory, you think bitterly.

Turns out—when the grenade goes off and a piercing scream hits the air—you’re not that much more invincible than a regular human.

Kara, you think, tears running down your face, Kara, Kara, Kara. Kara. Everything hurts but all you can think about is Kara and whether or not she’s going to be okay fighting without you. Forever, possibly. Fighting without you forever, and just thinking about your death feels like ice water being poured over you until the cold sinks in and it’s just panic.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It takes moments before she’s by your side, moments that feel like a lifetime, she was slowed by the kryptonite she was fighting against and wasn’t able to get to you in time when the grenade went off but now she’s here, and she’s sobbing. Sobs that wrack her body, and you’re trying to sit up despite the ringing in your ear.

“Kara!” You yell, eyes wide, and you don’t want to be doing this to her, you want to pretend like you’re okay with this—you want to be strong for her—but you can’t. You can’t, because holy fuck. Fuck. “I can’t feel my legs, Kara. Baby, I can’t feel anything. I can’t...why can’t I move?”

Kara places a hand on your chest, and you can feel that, it hurts, “Alex,” she says into the comms, “it’s Y/N...she’s badly injured. I can’t bring her to the DEO, I can’t fly; the kryptonite is still in the air around us, and I can’t move her away from it either.”

You hear Kara’s panicked voice next to you, and when you focus you hear it in your own comms.

Alex’s voice crackles through immediately, and even she sounds scared, “how bad, Kara?”

“She says she can’t feel her legs, and she...she’s losing a lot of blood. She’s cold, too, and her breathing is labored,” Kara’s practically ranting now, her fingers shaking against your chest. “I’d put pressure on the wound but there’s a lot of blood and I don’t know—”

You turn your face away from Kara when her hand travels to your cheek, and you try to tune her out, because her face...it really says everything about your condition, and you don’t want to hear Kara talk about all of the ways you’re dying.

You catch the last thing Alex says and it fills you with dread that makes your bones feel even heavier, “keep her awake, Kara. There’s no telling if she’ll wake up again if she falls asleep now.”

Kara’s resulting sob rips your heart to shreds.

“I didn’t realize until I met you how much I don’t want to die,” you tell her after a moment filled with her cries. You’ve never felt so scared in your life (besides after Kara’s fight with Reign) “but I really don’t want to, Kara. I really don’t want to.”

“You won’t,” Kara says, trying to give you a reassuring smile, “you won’t because I need you to stay. What am I supposed to do without you?” She tries to laugh afterwards but it’s really just a choked sound, and you can hear the fear in her words.

The iron taste that was on your tongue felt like death, but now as you slowly start to taste it less, and as the smell of gasoline slowly slips away, you wonder if this is really a sign of death. The reapers signature.

“You’ll live.” You say, “you have to. There’s no other choice.” Your voice is filled with too much certainty for a dying woman, “It’ll be fine. You’ll get to eat the last popsicle in the fridge,” a humorless chuckle forces its way out of your throat, “I hid it. It’s under the frozen peas.”

You can tell by the look on Kara’s face what she’s thinking about. A half empty bed when she goes home alone to your shared apartment, your favorite mug sitting on the counter half full of cold coffee, your dishes still in her sink—your sink—your clothes in the washing machine, your…

“I can’t,” Kara whispers, her voice filled with the amount of sorrow only she can manage, “I can’t lose two of my worlds. I’m not strong enough.”

Kara Zor-El not being strong enough. It’s a humorous thought. You know Kara will fight, she’ll fight because it’s all she knows. She’ll find her reason. She won’t give up on the world, even if she gives up on herself for some time. It’s the one thing you need to be sure of right now.

“Yeah you are,” you mumble, trying to lift your shaky hand to cup her cheek. She grabs a hold of your hand and helps you to your destination. You try not to scream curses at the world at the sight of your blood on her pale cheek. “You, Kara Danvers, are an anomaly in the way you never let anything knock you down.”

“This is enough,” Kara promises, and it’s the last promise you’d ever want to hear from her, “you’re enough to ruin me.”

“Kara,” you whisper, hating the world so furiously in that moment for all it wants to take. “That’s the last thing I want to hear...I only ever want to build you up.”

“And you do,” Kara says, “but love really does both, doesn’t it? Sometimes it hurts as much as it heals.”

“That isn’t fair,” you whimper out, and Kara nods against your hand, closing her eyes and trying not to breathe in the smell of your blood.

Moments later Kara opens her eyes in a panic after realizing that you haven’t spoken, only to see you trying to blink your eyes awake. She squeezes your hand repeatedly, trying to get your attention. “Y/N, it’s not time.” She tells you desperately, “it’s not time.”

One of her tears fall against your cheek, causing you to pout. “Stop crying,” you slur, delirious from the blood loss, “I resent it when you cry because of me.”

Kara shakes her head, only crying harder.

You smile up at her sadly, “I'm sorry i’m dying.” And you mean it.

“Stop saying that,” Kara pleads, like it’s breaking her, “stop.”

You wish you could give Kara what she wants but your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier and you don’t think you have much time. “Just tell Alex to name a kid after me, or at least tell her to name a fish after me.”

Kara’s shaking her head and shaking your arm, trying to get you to open your eyes again, “Y/N! Hey! Stop, come on, baby, just open your eyes…”

You try, you really do, you’ve never tried so hard to listen before, and it works for a moment, just for a second you manage to open your eyes, much to Kara’s relief, and that’s when you finally notice a crowd of people and a slumped alien (the man you two were fighting) a little ways behind you and Kara. When did Kara do that to him? When did the people come?

It’s when you see Alex though, rushing out of a black van, that you feel some sort of relief. Alex will protect Kara when you’re gone. You’re sure of it.

—

“Wake up! Wake up,” Kara sobs, “Alex, Alex—please, she’s not—”

—

“She died, Kara, in the van, we managed to bring her back...but things are looking uncertain right now. For now, the best thing you can do is look after yourself”

Kara’s glowing red eyes snap up from the floor towards Alex. Her powers have been going haywire since they arrived at the DEO. “Save her,” Kara pleads, voice hoarse from crying. “Please.”

—

It’s late at night after Kara hears your heart stop (the second time) that she gets placed in kryptonite handcuffs.

Alex doesn’t want to do it but Kara isn’t in control of her powers anymore, and she almost seriously hurt someone. Multiple times.

Kara doesn’t leave your side after they get your heart going again, she can’t hear your heart with the kryptonite on so the only thing she can take comfort in is the beeping of your heart monitor.

—

You wake up two weeks after your accident.

Kara’s asleep next to you when you do.

You’re confused and thirsty so it takes you several long moments for you to remember what happened, and once you do you’re sobbing hard, crying loud enough to startle awake a sleeping Kara.

She freezes when she sees you, you’re curled up in the hospital bed and shaking with your relief and the leftover fear, and she’s watching you like she doesn’t know what to do now that you’re awake.

She’s been praying for this moment, imagining it, waiting for it day after day, minute after minute, second after second, but now that it’s actually happened she’s paralyzed with her overwhelming emotions.

“Y/N?” Kara stutters, eyes filling with her own tears of relief.

You laugh at Kara’s face, loud and completely joyful, and suddenly she’s sobbing too, grinning all the while, because you’re here—finally— you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, and you’re laughing, and the world is finally okay again too.

“Damn, weren’t we dramatic?” You smirk, paying no mind to the tears running down your or her face.

Kara laughs, pulling you into a careful hug (she got her handcuffs taken off only a day ago). “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, tightening your hold on Kara as much as you can and simply breathing her in. Breathing life in.

“I feel like i’m dreaming,” Kara says after a while, voice trembling. You feel like you're dead...and like you're in heaven. Is this heaven?

“You aren’t,” you reassure Kara anyways.

She nods against your shoulder, shaking even harder than you were. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

“you’re the one who had to go and die two times.”

“Nearly three times,” Alex says from the doorway.

You notice Kara tense and shift in front of you until she realizes it’s just Alex, and you think that’ll probably be something you two will have to talk about, but for now you roll your eyes at Alex and say, much to both Kara’s and her amusement; “the only reason you tried so hard to save me is because you didn’t want to name your kid after me, isn’t it?”

Alex’s shrug and “maybe” gets a glare from Kara and a smirk from you.

#kara danvers x reader #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagine #kara danvers imagine #kara zor el x reader #kara zor el imagine #fem reader #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #alex danvers #dc x reader #kara x reader

[spicynamericano]

Sunrise. - yt nakamoto

sypnosis: yuta tells you to stay.

word count: 1k

genre: angst

a/n: this was originally posted on twitter! my first attempt at writing after three years. by the way, i pictured this with two scenarios in mind. let me know how you imagined it!

inspired by: MINO’s Sunrise

https://open.spotify.com/track/3AneSYPZTGWVonpCy9yxAW?si=d05b9a2356c74d0b

"Stay," he whispers, latching on to your cold hand, squeezing it as tight as he could.

"Stay," he mumbles, voice trembling, intertwining your delicate fingers with his, as he pulls your hand close to his bruised cheek.

"Please, stay..." choking in between cries, he quivers as you feel droplets flow down your soft skin. You faintly hear his muffles as he kisses the back of your hand softly, not letting go unless you stay.

But you did stay. You stayed until he let your hand go. You stayed until he stopped crying.

You stayed, yet he didn't know.

It was lonely and hard. How could he stay sane when he loved you all his life? Without you by his side, he started to drink his sadness away, til no trace of you was left in his memory. He blames himself for letting you leave. He blames himself for letting you leave like the wind that flows just to brush past you. He blames himself for letting you leave, just like that.

Every day, bottles of liquor pile up in a corner of his dark room. Locked in his thoughts, he withers and shivers on his now cold bed, no trace left of your shared warmth and joy. Yes, he's broken—to an extent where he thinks he could no longer be fixed. In his sober thoughts, he waits for you still, an ironic shift from his drunk laden miseries.

His dusk to dawn sessions are frequent, to avoid the busy rush of what used to be his early mornings. Ever since you left, he's become a lifeless man. He knows you're not coming back yet still awaits your return.

I mean, how could you come back? After shattering his life with a single phrase, would you dare to piece him back together?

He's now alone and miserable. Not one of his friends could even reach him. He's so caught up on you, that no matter how hard he tries to forget you, you'd appear before his eyes. I guess you still keep staying in his faintest memory.

"Fuck!" He shouts, as he shoves a console table within his reach. Yup, he's gone mad. Books fall to the hard ground, creating a thudding noise that echoed across the studio. His eye caught one thing in particular though—a yellow piece of paper stuck under a Before Sunrise DVD.

It was your favorite movie. It reminded you of how you both unexpectedly met while travelling abroad, promising to meet at Han River when you both have no dates on Christmas Eve. Funny enough, you did meet up. Well, not because you both kept your promise, but because you were both dumped by your exes on that same day. You both didn't really recognize each other at first. Not until you both were dressed the same as you did back in Arashiyama. Meeting up at Han River was like fate, the promise was just a bonus.

He opened the slightly crumpled piece of paper only to see a selfie of the both of you, smiling wildly with the sunrise behind you. It was his gift to you on your very first anniversary. He drove you to the East Sea, where you both could see the sun rise from the waters. It was the most beautiful sight you both witnessed, a memory you both treasured forever.

At the back of the picture was a letter written by you, two years later.

10. 26. 18

Hi love! Happy anniversary! Found this old photo in one of our albums! >.< You know, I have never been this happy in my life :) Three years with you is something I’ll forever cherish. As you came into my darkest nights like how the moon lights the night, let me be your sun that guides you to something new each day.

Idk if you’ll see this hehe but whatever happens, do remember that I love you and I will always love you with all my heart and soul.

I will always stay no matter what. Just look out the window and see the sun rise, for I’ll be shining the brightest ‘til the night comes when you fall asleep.

愛してる、ゆたくん。ily. 생일축하~

Yuta's not one to cry but tears instantly rush down his swollen face as he grasps the photo in his right hand. He looks out the window and Seoul is still bustling with city lights on a Saturday night. Feeling sobered up, he swiftly checks his phone and gasps at the screen. It's 3 am. He quickly changes his shirt, grabs his wallet and keys, locks his apartment, hops on to his car and drives off as quickly as possible.

An almost three hour drive to the East Sea becomes two, with his speed pacing up. He arrives and parks his car, it's currently 5 am and dawn starts to break. He finds his way to a huge boulder in the middle of the beach and reaches for something in its caved areas. He manages to grab a tiny box, with a ribbon on top. He sits on a flat surface of the boulder and waits for morning to come as the colors of the sky start to change.

He takes out the photo in his hand, as well as the tiny box. He brings out a sunflower ring with white and gold diamond crystals and stares. Tears start to fill his eyes once again but he resists.

"Hi, love." he says, looking up at the sun that's slowly starting to rise from the waters.

"Remember how I promised I would propose to you here at sunrise? I'm here now," he says softly, turning his head to the photo.

"See? I even have the ring ready. I even traveled here to hide this ring just so you would find it," he pauses, looking at the ring.

"But you never did."

Mustering up some courage, he looks up at the bright sky, "Wherever you are now, I hope you are happy."

He stands up from the boulder and feels the morning breeze hit his face. He digs up a ditch in the sand next to the boulder and places the photo and ring inside.

My love, you did stay. But only as a reminder that I'll never see you again.

Goodbye, my sunrise. I will now let you go.

‘Til we meet again.

He bids farewell to the place once familiar to him and drives off under the basking light, not once looking back.

#my works #nct #nct au #nct oneshot #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct yuta #nct 127 yuta #nct 127 angst #nct 127 oneshot #nct 127 x reader #nct yuta au #nct yuta oneshot #yuta au #yuta oneshot #yuta x reader #yuta imagines #yuta scenarios #yuta angst

[alolowrites]

Everyone’s Got a Sweet Tooth!

Summary: Bakugou hates sweets. You don’t think this is true and begin a mission to discover his favorite candy. After all, you are the brilliant Candy Master who won’t stop until Bakugou’s sweet tooth is satisfied.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m so glad I was finally able to write a full fic for Bakugou; it’s been so long. Originally, this was supposed to be for the bingo event, but had trouble fleshing out the story’s direction. I really wanted to write this story since the plot was hilarious to me, idk why. 

Please enjoy!

10.30.21 UPDATE: HI!!!!! I went back and edited the heck out of this baby since it’s my favorite Bakugou story I’ve written. I hope it is now decent lmao. Happy Halloween!! 

Word Count: 2.4K+

“Katsuki, what is the meaning of all this?!”

“The hell are you talkin’ bout?”

“This!” 

You marched with purpose and plopped down on the couch where he sat. Bakugou remained unfazed, clicking on the remote control. He mindlessly surfed through the channels with an attention span of an HR recruiter combing through a mountain pile of resumes. Stupid sitcoms, fake ass “reality” tv shows, QVC advertising their products like it's Black Friday all day, every day. Bakugou frowned—why does he pay so much for these useless channels? 

His eyes teared away from the screen as the phone waved frantically on his left. 

You huffed. “According to Maximus Heroes, you—and I quote—‘bleeping hate sweets!’”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Damn idiots censored my words.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“That you hate sweets!” 

You viciously smacked a pillow at him, ignoring his yells. Bakugou snatched the weapon with a growl. For a soft pillow, it felt like a firm foam roller. You stood up and paced around, arms flailing in the air. 

“How can my boyfriend say such a thing?!” You pointed at your signature black top hat. “Do you know who I am? I’m the lovable Candy Master, CEO of the Candy Basket Factory!” 

Bakugou shrugged. “So?”

“So, you can’t say you hate sweets!” You gripped your chest, sniffling a bit. “I feel as though I’ve been betrayed.”

“Would you sit your ass down?” 

Bakugou tossed the pillow at you and crossed his arm; he was too tired to deal with this nonsense. Somehow the QVC channel looked more appealing now. You begrudgingly plopped on the couch, a small pout growing on your face. Bakugou snuck a glance and sighed, tossing the remote aside. 

“Are you seriously so upset about this?” Instant regret flooded through his mind as he remembered that ridiculous day. “It was a freakin’ answer to a stupid question in a stupid celebrity article.” 

“…maybe…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. You took off your signature hat and examined it; the hat was firm yet soft and had three peppermint candies artistically attached like a beautiful brooch. You moped silently for an eternity until an exciting idea rushed into your mind. Bakugou jumped as you squealed, his mouth ready for snarl, but you beat him to the punch. 

“I got it!” Two hands eagerly cupped his sharp cheeks, your whimsical eyes meeting his feral ones. They did nothing to damper your beaming smile. “You don’t hate sweets; you just haven’t found your favorite candy!”

Bakugou grabbed your wrist yet didn’t pull them away. Another giggle rang throughout the living room as you shot up from the sofa. A specific look crossed your face—one that both irked and frightened Bakugou to no end; he was through dealing with your shenanigans. 

“Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, the answer is no!”

“Too late! The mind is churning,” you piped, taking a cheerful step toward the doorway. Spinning on your heel, you gave a hat tip to Bakugou and declared, “I won’t rest until that sweet tooth of yours is satisfied!” 

Yup, it was too late. Bakugou had no choice but to go along with this dumb idea. Closing his eyes, he slammed a pillow over his face and screamed.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Ground Zero’s hero agency was buzzing with life. Phones rang off the hook, yet all were answered to avoid the voicemail machine. Interns carried endless stacks of papers, their dying arms begging for relief and fingers stinging from brutal paper cuts. The afternoon shift sidekicks clocked in their arrival while the morning ones yawned out the door.

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, just how Bakugou liked it. He took great pride in this, hiring only the best and brightest. However, none of them held a candle against him—the number two pro hero. Unfortunately, being a prominent hero brought lots of reports he needed to sign.

And he was not excited about this.

“Um, sir?”

“Damnit, Small Head,” Bakugou growled, halting his pen’s movement. Fiery eyes glared at the man peeking around the ajar door. “If you bring me another paper to sign, I will stab this pen in your damn eye!”

“I-I assure you that I bring no reports, sir!” Kioshi, Bakugou’s personal assistant, waddled inside the office, fixing the tie that was strangling his neck. He slid a peculiar package toward his boss and bowed his head. “You have a special delivery from the Candy Master.”  

Bakugou scrunched his eyebrows. On his desk was a white box with an orange ribbon wrapped neatly in the upper left corner. A tiny card sat underneath it, and with closer inspection, had his first name written across in gold letters. Bakugou shooed Kioshi away, waiting to hear the door close to ensure absolute privacy.

At first, Bakugou had a mini stare-down with the gift. When it didn’t burst into flames, he sucked his breath and snatched the card. Bakugou turned it around to read the following message:

Everyone knows you got a sour attitude, but only I get to see that sweet side of yours. Figured these treats might do the trick. I made them just for you!

Enjoy,

C.M

P.S. These are an ~exclusive~ batch from my top-secret collection! So hush-hush!

Bakugou snorted at your writing, tossing the card aside and opening the box. His eyes narrowed at the vibrant gumdrops nestled above the black tissue paper. White sugar lightly coated the green and orange candies, each twinkling under the natural light that shined through his large window. A smirk curled on his lips; the whole package reflected his hero costume.

“Let’s see how good these are.”

Bakugou ate the green gumdrop. It was chewy and sour, the lime flavor making him twitch a bit. The sweetness kicked in ten seconds later. Bakugou tried the orange gumdrop next, and the acid was strong too but enjoyable. He soon devoured the entire box in one sitting.

Once that was done, he marched out of the office to start his daily patrol. It didn’t take long for a stupid thug to cross his path. Bakugou slammed him against the concrete wall, hauling him up with just one hand. The man trembled in fear but stopped squirming and cocked his head to the side, dumbfounded. 

Bakugou growled. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Your tongue...it got weird colors, man.”

“Eh? The fuck are you talking ‘bout?” 

Bakugou peeked at his reflection on the store’s window. He recoiled when he saw the horrible swirls of green and orange covering his tongue. A vicious scowl crossed Bakugou’s face, his iron grip tightening around the thug’s collar. The guy’s high-pitched yelps fell on deaf ears. 

“Fuckin’ gumdrops!”

They were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“I don’t want it.”

“But, sir, the gift—”

“I know who it’s from, and I’m telling you no.”

“Sir,” Kioshi gripped the massive, cherry red treat in his hand. A black ribbon with long strings almost reached the floor. The assistant sighed. “It’s just a lollipop.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ baby to ya?” Bakugou crossed his arms, refusing to budge on his childish decision. The irony made Kioshi roll his eyes mentally. “Give it away or something. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir…”

Lollipops were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Another day, another gift Bakugou received from you.

They came sporadically and kept the hero on his toes. He never understood why you sent the gifts directly to his office; you both lived in the same apartment for crying out loud! Worst of all, he could never get a single hint on what candy he would receive next. Every time he asked—or more accurately, demanded—you shot him a coy smile and purred, “Ah, ah, ah! It’s a surprise!”

Bakugou wanted to rip his eyeballs out.

However, he reluctantly played along with your stupid game. Whenever Kioshi entered his office, Bakugou masked his slight interest with the usual scowl. If the assistant didn’t bring candy, then Bakugou blamed him for interrupting his private time. The anger was worse if Kioshi brought more reports for him to sign.

Kioshi was thankful for the days when a new candy gift arrived.

Unfortunately, the last three gifts were complete failures. The first was the strawberry licorice, which dangled in Bakugou’s hand. He took a few bites and complained that he was eating a rubber wheel. Next was a bag of colorful gummy worms. Bakugou shoved a couple in his mouth and swore he felt one of them move on its own. Finally, there was the lemon green jawbreaker; it was the size of a baseball. One look and Bakugou shouted over the phone: “You tryna give me dentures?!”

All three candies were crossed off the list. Still, you didn’t give up and sent another gift to Bakugou. He read the simple message on the card:

Chew and blow to your heart’s content, babe!

Love,

C.M

P.S. I promise this won’t change the color on your tongue, haha!

Bakugou opened the sleek, rectangular box and found a bubble gum packet inside; there were three thin pieces. He slipped one in his mouth, surprisingly pleased with the bold raspberry flavor hitting his taste buds. Bakugou skimmed the card again and did as instructed—he chewed.

Typically, an ordinary bubble gum would lose its flavor after five minutes. But the flavor in your gum only got juicier; it encouraged Bakugou to continue chewing. He then blew a tiny bubble before popping it in his mouth. Not bad, he thought as another bubble expanded in front of him. His chews became more aggressive, and the bubbles more prominent than the previous ones. Stupidly, he puffed out a massive bubble, and it grew…

…and grew…and grew until there was a loud pop.

Bakugou’s roars shook the entire building, spilling cold tea all over Kioshi’s shirt. 

Bubble gum was crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Everything was going well down at the Candy Basket Factory. People lined up outside for the magical tours that ran every hour. Kids bounced off the walls as if they were on a sugar rush while their parents felt a migraine pounding on their heads. Inside the factory, the ceilings were high, and the walls were vibrant like the sun. Laughter rang from every corner as employees chit-chatted about their daily lives; they were relaxed yet efficiently worked to the same drumbeat.

A soft smile crept on your face. You were glad everyone was happy; it was the driving force behind your factory’s joyful spirit. Eventually, that spirit would leave these doors and touch billions of people’s hearts with your precious candies.

Just as you closed your eyes, someone barged into your office and barked your name. You chuckled, spinning the leather chair around to meet a furious Bakugou. His nostrils flared like a bull, and his menacing eyes looked ready to kill. However, the gum’s blobs stuck on his porcupine blonde hair squashed the pro hero’s intimidating aura.

“You—”

“—I’m so sorry, boss!” Nozomi panted into the room, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s quite alright, Zomi!” You chirped without breaking Bakugou’s intense eye contact. “I can handle him. Please let everyone know I’ll be busy with an important meeting.”

Nozomi bowed and closed the door behind her. Bakugou wasted no time complaining, his hands slamming on your desk. 

“Quit sending me your cavity-infested garbage! I’ve had it with this fuckin’ game.”

“Oh, come on, babe!” You rolled forward and rested your chin on your gloved hand palm. “Can’t I just send my dashing boyfriend some sweet gifts? Get it!” You jokingly slapped his forearm. “Because candies are sweet? Man, I crack myself up at times…”

“You’re insufferable.”  

You winked at him. “But that’s what you love about me!”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and looked away. A light blush tainted his cheeks; he hated how right you were. You walked around the desk and stood beside him, wiping off the fairy sugar dust on his shirt. He probably barged through the sample stand near the entrance, scaring off the poor intern. 

“Alright, alright.” You gave a gentle pat. “Sorry for going a little overboard with the gifts. I was just excited about finding your favorite candy! I don’t want you hating them.”

Bakugou’s anger subsided. “Why is this so damn important to you?”

“Because I love spreading endless joy through sweets.” 

The answer was simple and innocent. Bakugou blinked and was taken aback by the gentleness in your eyes. 

“Candy makes everyone happy,” you chirped. “Knowing someone’s favorite candy helps me bring their smile back whenever they’re upset or lost. Can’t have the world be all mopey now, can we?”

Your fingers hovered above Bakugou’s head. The gum moved under your command and floated in the air. You flicked it into the trash bin with ease, and Bakugou murmured a quick ‘thanks’ under his breath. After ruffling his hair, you suddenly remembered something sitting on your shelf. Bakugou stared at the small pyramid of chocolate truffles coming toward him.

“I made these babies a few minutes ago,” you said, eying the plate with a proud grin. “Normally, I do a taste test and then send the gift if it satisfies my expectations. But, I got a feeling you’ll love them.”  

Bakugou’s face was unreadable. You gave him a gentle nudge and encouraged him to take one. He sighed before picking a chocolate truffle; it was warm and soft, the cocoa powder dusting his fingertips. After suspiciously staring at the truffle, he ate the entire thing in one go. His eyes widened as all the flavors exploded at once. The crushed red pepper flakes, the hints of rich cinnamon and orange zest, and the bittersweet dark chocolate made from the finest quality found on Earth all danced perfectly together with every bite. 

“So…” You placed the plate on the desk, watching Bakugou swallow the truffle down. “What do you think? Give me your honest opinion! Don’t sugarcoat it, haha! I’m on fire today!”

Bakugou turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You hugged his bicep with a pout. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just tell me if you liked the chocolate truffles.”  

“They’re good.”

Your smile grew. “Good enough to be your favorite?”

“Sure,” he smirked, shoving another truffle into his mouth. You cheered on the spot after weeks of constant failures. Of course, some of the complaints were nonsense which didn’t surprise you. Bakugou was a picky bastard; the lollipop fiasco served as a great example. You were glad he thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles.

Before you walked away, Bakugou pulled you close to him and crushed his lips on yours. He caught you off guard, but the surprise was certainly welcomed. You soon melted into the kiss after tasting the rich dark chocolate and spices on his lips. Bakugou’s arms snaked around your waist as your hands gripped his broad shoulders.

“You know,” Bakugou’s hot breath tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I got a new favorite candy.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, a coy smile plastered on your face. 

“Let’s hope it satisfies your sweet tooth then, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, it will.”

After all, you were the one and only Candy Master.

As always, thanks for reading!

10.18.20 UPDATE: Story’s sequel, Gold Coins and a Gold Heart now uploaded. 

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines

[lovelyirony]

❛  there is no heroism in war — there are simply things that need to be done.  ❜ with tony and your choice of second person?

If there’s one thing that Tony learned from his father, it was that everyone will idolize the people in war who go too soon. 

Every single Fourth of July, they visited the honorary headstone that was put up for Captain America. Howard waxes poetic about how strong and how brave this man was, and if he gets drunk (which is usually always a given) he talks to Tony about how much he wishes he had a son like good ole’ Steven Grant Rogers. 

“Well, you first went wrong by agreeing to let Mama name me Anthony,” he says, because his words can be just like Howard’s. 

He gets sent to his room for the remainder of that holiday, and watches fireworks that boom with impressive chemical reactions while overlooking the party that his parents host every single year. 

His least favorite holiday is the Fourth of July. He lets people know it, says it in all the fluffy interviews, and he lets everyone think it’s because he can’t make fireworks himself, or that he hates his father’s patriotic legacy, and those are both true. 

But not the real reason. 

- 

This continues for years. Tony is infamous for never celebrating the Fourth of July, especially after his parents’ deaths. 

People speculate. Say it’s “too painful a day.” 

Oh, it’s not. It’s far from painful. Tony simply just...doesn’t care about the day. He makes himself a nice drink, sits on his deck, and stares out at the ocean ahead of him. People ride on boats, there are fireworks going off all day, and he treats it like any other day. 

And then he’s asked for an interview for a documentary on Captain America. 

Everyone and their mother knew about Howard’s obsession; he wasn’t exactly quiet about it. 

He says no. 

“I don’t talk about him,” Tony says over the phone. “But good luck with your show.” 

It makes it to the media. People accuse him of hating America, hating any symbol that represents America, and being a Communist. 

“A billionaire being a Communist,” he muses the next time he’s out in public, and everyone’s microphones are shoved in his face. “I like that logic.” 

Rhodey says that he is now on a watch-list. 

“Aw, a late birthday present for me? You shouldn’t have,” Tony purrs. “How hard did you laugh, honey-pie?” 

“For about ten minutes on and off after that meeting,” Rhodey says with a snort. “I’m just surprised they only have you on it now. Haven’t you threatened at least one government official before this?” 

“I think my body count is ten as of last week,” Tony says. 

“What’d you do last week?” 

“Hm, you’ll find out about it soon enough.” 

- 

When he’s with Yinsen, he thinks that maybe he’ll be a hero. He’ll probably die and no one will ever find him, and then if he sees his father if there’s an afterlife, he’ll probably be proud of him. 

Finally on the same level of Captain America. 

But Tony thinks that maybe he’d like to see a Malibu sunset one more time. See Pepper groan as he ignores yet another set of paperwork, but smiles when he gets it done when her back is turned. Sit with Rhodey at a burger place and complain about everything in life. 

So goddammit, he’s going to skip the whole hero shtick. Wasn’t his thing then, certainly not his thing now. 

Yinsen looks at him with a smile. 

“Ready to get out of here?” 

“Yes, Tony. I think I am.” 

- 

It’s a cruel kind of joke, to be ready to get out of there and mean that your family is somewhere high up, open with open arms. 

Tony grieves for a moment, but he only has one moment to spare before everything goes up in flames. 

It’s enough of an explosion that Rhodey will know without a doubt it’s him. No one with any sort of military training would make that explosion, although Tony laughs as he soars into the sky and realizes that it looks similar to the unfortunate kitchen fire he started during their third year of college. 

He just hopes they make it in time. 

- 

He creates Iron Man again. A better version, honestly...

At least, until the icing thing, which he was very stupid for overlooking, but he’s not going to blame himself too badly for it because he just created a suit that was made for flying. 

He founds out that the man he viewed as more family than his own should never have been trusted, and he nearly dies on a couch that is honestly not that comfortable to begin with. 

- 

He decides people won’t know he’s Iron Man. He doesn’t want to give them that much satisfaction, that much more motivation to kill him. 

He knows he’s not a hero. He also knows that if they knew about Iron Man, most people would probably scoff. Wonder how long this little fad for the rich guy would last. 

Tony doesn’t want people to know he’s doing it, especially not the board. 

When he announced that the weapons manufacturing department was shutting down, he knew that Obadiah wasn’t the only person in power who had the means to subvert things without being caught onto, at least for a few months. 

Iron Man--if he wasn’t directly tied to Stark Industries--had a much better chance of destroying old weapon shipments. 

- 

He wasn’t expecting to become a hero. He also wasn’t expecting people to catch on, regardless of how much Rhodey and Pepper laughed at this at their Sunday dinners. (New thing that they’re trying out, Tony likes it a bit too much.) 

Well, not everyone catches on. 

Fortunately for him, SHIELD doesn’t. They want to know who Iron Man is, if they can sway him to work for them. Tony nearly laughs every single time they send a newbie agent to survey the property or have Agent Coulson visit about every month. 

“You’ll have to be careful,” Agent says on one of his monthly routine visits. They never say what time he’s coming, which is why Jarvis has been given permission to go wherever he likes in their servers. 

Jarvis pretends like he’s not as excited as a kid on a holiday. 

“We’re just asking for a little transparency,” Agent asks, on one of his tirades. 

“Will that be all, Agent?” Tony asks, entirely over this little interaction. He had really been banking on Fury sending in a new recruit, and Tony would get to scare them with his new loud-speaker he’d been working on...

“Well actually-” 

“Tony, you should be on a first-name basis by now,” Pepper says, sweeping gracefully into the room. “Good afternoon Phil, good to see you again.” 

“You as well, Ms. Potts. I hope your business dinner went smoothly?” 

“It did.” 

“I don’t like how friendly you two are,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes. “And Phil? You want me to call him Phil?” 

“You could call me Phillip,” Agent suggests. 

“Who are you, a member of the royal family?” Tony asks. “I hope not.” 

“We’ll be in touch,” Agent says. 

“Don’t be,” Tony says. “We’re fine here. Iron Man’s watching you.” 

"Mind telling me where?” Phil asks lightly, knowing he will not be getting a serious answer of any sort. 

“Well unfortunately, Iron Man signed a very extensive babysitting contract. All hush-hush, you know how NDA’s can be, darling.” 

Agent sighs, and then leaves. 

Pepper looks after him. 

“You know, SHIELD could use someone like you.” 

“They could use something,” Rhodey says with a snort. “They want the suit and leverage on top.” 

“Exactly,” Tony agrees. 

“So? Negotiate,” Pepper says with a shrug. “Make it work for you. You’ve done it before.” 

“We’ll see,” Tony says, diving back into the circuits. “We’ll see.” 

- 

He does not see. 

They tell him that Captain America got defrosted, and there Steve Rogers is in an ice block, at least until they can melt down the ice surrounding his feet. 

Agent is, of course, over the moon. 

“You could at least pretend to be professional,” Tony mutters, eyes not tearing away from the man in front of them. “Where are you going to put him?” 

“Rehabilitation program through SHIELD.�� 

“And your plan for that?” 

“On a need-to-know basis.” 

“Oh, so it’ll go terribly. Wonderful.” 

“It won’t go terribly,” Agent says. “There may be some hiccups, but that happens with everything. I’m sure Iron Man wasn’t picture-perfect when you found him.” 

“Of course not, but he isn’t...he isn’t this,” Tony says, gesturing to the melting block of ice. 

Phil turns back to look. 

“I think your dad would be over the moon.” 

“Best day since the fucking Fourth of July for him,” Tony says bitterly, turning away. “I gotta get going. Let me know if you need anything for him.” 

“I think we have it handled, unless you want to send Iron Man over as a bodyguard.” 

“Ha ha,” Tony says sarcastically. “How smart of you to offer. He’ll have to decline due to extenuating circumstances.” 

- 

Of course SHIELD bungles Steve Rogers. Terribly. 

He doesn’t know which history-major-dropout they got to coordinate the room’s details or the details of his life in general, but they did a truly terrible job. 

God, Tony only half-paid attention to his dad’s rants about the “good old days” and Rogers’ whole biography of life, and he could’ve done a better job while drunk. 

But it’s not his job to fix, and he’s more focused on making sure that Iron Man stays busy, because if he doesn’t then SHIELD tends to think he’s bored. (And he is...don’t get him wrong. But not that bored.) 

- 

Aliens. 

Fucking aliens. 

They bring a man back from oblivion in immortality, and now they have aliens. 

It’s one of those things where Tony just says “alright” and goes with it. 

They want Iron Man aboard, and Tony asks where he’s wanted. 

“Just Iron Man,” Coulson says, an apologetic smile on his face. 

Tony shoots him one right back. 

“Because I know this wasn’t your decision, Agent, I won’t be mad at you. Also because you’re one of Pep’s favorite people. But it’s like salt-and-pepper shakers; just having one is sad.” 

That’s all the explanation SHIELD gets, until they learn to ask Rhodey. 

“You have any mechanics that Tony trusts with that suit?” he asks. 

"We have a variety of skilled mechanics that would be happy to help,” the man says over the phone.

“No,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I mean, do you have any that Tony knows and trusts?” 

The phone is silent after that. 

“I thought as much. Well, let Tony know I’m eating his leftovers since he left them in the fridge to help you guys out with the end of the world or whatever.” 

Click. 

- 

The Avengers is a shit-show. 

But Tony is very excited to see one man in particular, and that’s Bruce Banner. Doctor Bruce Banner, if you wanted to get technical. (If you wanted to get even more technical, you could add about six more “doctors” in there.) 

They work well together, and Tony gets a tiny view into how Bruce works, in a sense. 

They found him playing doctor, and he wasn’t exactly happy to leave. 

Tony tells him that he thinks that there’s more to his life. 

“So what, Hulk...saved my life?” Bruce asks, and Tony can tell he doesn’t believe it, can tell how he’s avoiding looking through the glass across the way. 

(Tony’s broken a window that way, having eye contact with himself.) 

“Yes,” Tony says simply. “And I’m glad he did, because I have a lot to ask you about...” 

And then, you know. 

Life happens. 

You make about three too many jokes, and suddenly you and Captain America have this weird tension thing, and then you have to manually turn a fan so the entire ship crew doesn’t die. 

It seems to run on some form of electricity! 

God, what a nightmare. 

- 

Aliens invade. 

Tony learns about how to tell the modern telling of Jonah and the Whale, and he also learns that he never wants to learn anything about space again. 

Hulk also makes a lovely alarm. 

- 

Bruce is the first to move in. 

Well, he’s kind of forced to, but not really, because Tony promises that he won’t actively try to get Hulk to come out for things, and Bruce is swayed by the promise of getting bagels for breakfast. 

- 

Natasha and Clint trail in next, and Natasha says that she told Steve to come to. 

“You didn’t ask me if I was okay with that,” Tony says with a frown. “But I suppose it’s better than whatever accommodations SHIELD pulls.” 

Clint snorts. 

“You got that right.” 

Thor knows he has a place to stay at, should he ever need it. He smiles at Banner on his way up to Asgard to send his brother to alien-jail, or whatever they call it up there. 

Tony doesn’t ask about it.

He and Bruce drive home in one of his flashy cars, and Bruce looks a little lost at all the posters hung up around the city, the ones with a green man grinning. 

“They like you,” Tony says. “Good job.” 

“Not like they hate Iron Man or anything,” Bruce says. “I just...I’m not a hero.” 

Tony nods. Doesn’t say anything. He gets the sentiment. 

(He knows how this will go.) 

- 

Hiding Iron Man is...harder. Admittedly. 

Steve keeps wanting to talk to him about battle strategy, and Tony is at work, so it’s not like he can conference call. 

(Okay well he can, but Pepper yelled at him for wearing the helmet in his office.) 

Natasha and Clint are naturally curious, as they’re supposed to be. The only problem is that both of them have professional training in how to make that curiosity dangerously effective. 

Thor doesn’t really mind, although he keeps making hints that he could take Iron Man to get better armor. 

“Sorry lightning rod, I’ll pass,” Iron Man says on one mission. “Now, where is my favorite doctor...” 

“He’s already back at the Tower,” Clint says. “Said something about wanting to ask Tony a question on his experiment.” 

Iron Man pauses. 

“...alright. I’ll start jetting home, meet you guys there.” 

- 

Iron Man barely makes it into his “section” before Bruce is coming down the stairs, muttering and holding papers. 

“Tony?” 

“Yes, dear!” Tony calls, scrambling to shed off the armor before Bruce could get too close. 

- 

It didn’t work. 

He has one of the gloves still on his palm as he faces Bruce. 

“...what.” 

“Um, just. Trying out the schematics. Of the suit. For Iron Man.” 

“You’re...you’re Iron Man?” 

“Well, let’s not throw around accusations that can’t be proved.” 

“You have literally stated in interviews that the suit is custom-fit to the user,” Bruce says. “I have the magazine that that’s from.” 

“Well, I have a...similar body type?” 

“Oh my god.” Bruce blinks, readjusting his glasses. “Do the others...Natasha knows, right? She has to know.” 

“Absolutely not,” Tony says. “Of course not! Why would she know?” 

“Because she’s a spy, Tony! That’s what spies do!” 

“Well then she’s a bad one!” 

There’s silence for a moment as they stare at each other. 

Tony sighs, heading over to the chairs set aside. 

“I imagine you’ll have questions, Dr. Banner.” 

“Of course I do.” 

Tony gestures somewhere, telling Jarvis to put the lab in blackout mode, no one out or in, and to update Pepper on the NDA situation. 

- 

“Why’d you hide it?” Bruce asks. 

“No one needs to know it’s me. Easier to balance work and home life.” 

Bruce looks at him. 

“Do not bullshit me.” 

Tony looks over at a blue hologram of a project he’s working on. 

“In all honesty, I’d like to say that it’s because of that, but I’ve never actually balanced work and home. It’s just...ugh. It’s personal. Can I say it’s personal, and you drop it?” 

“I mean, you could,” Bruce says. “But I still know that you’re him and he’s you, and you’ve been hiding that you’re a hero for years.” 

“I wouldn’t call it being a hero,” Tony says. “Just tying up loose ends.” 

“And saving the world, can’t forget that one,” Bruce says. 

“Well if you call me a hero, then I get to do the same thing for you.” 

“Hulk is not a hero, he’s a carefully monitored rage monster.” 

“Was that what we were doing the whole time we were up against the Chitauri? Monitoring the Hulk while multitasking? I don’t know if you’ve read the scientific news, Bruce, but none of us can multitask as well as we think.” 

“Not the point.” 

“Yes the point.” 

They stare at each other. 

“Why don’t you want to be known as a hero?” Bruce asks, finally. 

“I’m not the type of person anyone wants for a hero.” 

“And am I?” Bruce asks with a smile. 

“Are any of us?” Tony responds. 

So they sit, and there’s this comfortable familiarity about being the same, looking at things the same, if not for a bit of difference. 

Bruce finally speaks up. 

“So. Who are we betting to be the last to know? Because I think it’ll be Natasha.” 

“Are you crazy? She’s gonna be the next to know.” 

“I don’t know, Clint can be pretty perceptive.” 

“Oh come on. If anything, it’ll be Thor. He’s almost never here, and he never drops by with a message beforehand.” 

“I bet you a smoothie that it’s Nat.” 

“You’re on.” 

- 

Nat is the last one to figure it out. Bruce just shrugs as Tony looks at him, mouth open. 

“How did you...?” 

“I know things,” Bruce says. 

(Not true: he’s been waging psychological warfare on Nat ever since he made that bet because he wanted a peach-mango smoothie.) 

- 

Neither think of themselves as heroes. But sometimes, you don’t think of yourself as a hero even though you are one. (Not that they know that other people’s perceptions hold sway.) 

#lovelyirony writes #this was originally going to be in-depth on how different and yet how similar steve and tony are #but then i decided including bruce would be sexy so i did that #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers (kind of)

[rudysrings]

Happier - JJ x reader

Just a lil songifc based on Ed Sheeran’s Happier

Summary: JJ didn’t mean for things to end the way they did between you two. If he’s being honest, he didn’t mean for things to end at all. He can’t help the longing when he sees you’ve moved on. At the same time, he can’t deny that you look better, happier.

Warnings: I’m such a sucker for angst jiokdfnijhwuerfhi I’m sorry…

Walking down 29th and Park I saw you in another's arms Only a month we've been apart You look happier, you do

The HMS Pogue was docked and JJ walked towards the Wreck, where his friends were waiting. It had been a long day of surfing, fishing, and drinking and he was just about ready to collapse after some good food.

He flicked his lighter, tossing it around in his hands as he walked up the street. He stopped short when he caught sight of a ghost. He swallowed tightly, trying to push down the feeling of his stomach rising to his throat at the sight of you. Of course, that was just his luck. The moment he managed to get you off his mind through pure exhaustion and hunger, he had to see you. The part that made him want to yak the empty contents of his stomach, however, was seeing you tucked into the arms of a guy. He was tall. Taller than JJ, maybe. He was blonde and smoking a joint.

He smiled inwardly. Guess you had a type, after all.

He didn’t want to admit it, but you looked more content, your shoulders relaxed, your hair down and a slow, unhurried pace in your step.

Taking in a shaky breath, JJ shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and continued walking.

Saw you walk inside a bar He said something to make you laugh I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours Yeah, you look happier, you do

Imagine his surprise when he saw the guy you were with open the door to the Wreck, gesturing overtly for you to enter before him, even bowing theatrically. You giggled, but obliged, walking through.

JJ wrinkled his nose, deciding that the guy’s name must have been Kyle. He just looked it. Kyle. God damn it, Kyle, why’d you have to steal my girl?

What he did next made JJ shake in his boots. Kyle followed you inside, his hands reaching for your hips as he ducked into your neck, whispering something in your ear.

JJ swallowed thickly, raising his hand to slightly rub his chest through the cotton of his shirt, feeling an uncomfortable stinging sensation in his heart. It didn’t stop the ache.

You laughed and JJ felt like he was back at the bar where you sang gigs here and there, your laughter as you interacted with the audience his favorite filler. Your laughter was always generous. You were never shy to smile at a passerby or chuckle at his lame innuendos. And whenever you did completely let out that contagious, musical laugh of yours, bubbling up and out of your mouth like it was meant to be freed, JJ knew that he’d do anything to keep you just like that. Happy. The kind of candid happy that you rarely saw in anyone older than 10. That was his favorite thing about you, JJ decided, how you were still a child in the ways that mattered.

The part that killed him, however, was he couldn’t remember when you’d last smiled at him that big, the way you were smiling at fucking Kyle.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain't nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal, baby If you're moving on with someone new

JJ quickly tugged his hair, scrunching his face in anger before relaxing, walking through the doors behind you. Cool as a cucumber. Sure.

He made sure not to look at you, trying to swallow the memory of the last time you had talked to him.

You weren’t one for yelling. It wasn’t in your nature. Maybe it was because of your family life which molded you into someone who couldn’t stand to yell, maybe it was that it not only hurt the other person but you as well.

That’s why it shook him so much when you yelled at him. JJ knew he hadn’t been doing right by you. He knew he had been reckless. He knew he wasn’t there when you needed him the most. He knew he was hurting you. What he didn’t know, was that while he was losing his mind trying to make his way back to you, you were giving up the fight.

“I can’t do this anymore, JJ!” You screamed, pushing at his shoulders.

“Why not? Because I can’t always be there? Because I like a little adventure in my life?” He glared at you, not able to stop the words he would regret saying. “You know my life style, Y/N! I can’t be your little bitch for the rest of my life. I want to live! If you won’t let me do that then…”

You leaned in, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Then? Then what, JJ? You’ll find someone else who will?”

“—wha—”

“Then I’ll find someone else who’ll be my little bitch. It’s better than having a self-destructive asshole for a boyfriend.”

JJ saw the instant regret in your eyes, but your pride had taken enough of a beating from his words for you to apologize. You approached him carefully. “Are you saying…are you saying this is it?” He asked, terrified now.

You smiled sadly. “It doesn’t look like we have another choice.”

“We always have a choice!” He refused.

You nodded. “Right, and you never chose me.”

All he remembered after that were his tears and mumbled apologies, his pleas to the air as you had already said goodbye and left. Left him.

'Cause baby you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I'll feel it too And until then I'll smile to hide the truth But I know I was happier with you

JJ found the rest of the pogues at their usual table in the back and they greeted him heartily, John B slapping his back playfully as he sat down.

“You leave anything for me or has everything been shoved into your maw already?” JJ asked with a fake smile on his face.

Kiara handed him some food and he thanked her, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat it, instead pulling out a joint, hoping he could then blame the redness in his eyes on the weed.

Pope slapped it out of his hand, scolding him. “Bro, you know you can’t do that in here.”

JJ’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Pope with absolute surrender, a pleading look on his face as he asked quietly, “Please, man. I just—” His eyes flicked over to where you were sat with Kyle, trying to braid his hair.

The pogues turned to JJ’s line of sight, seeing you and understanding completely.

“Oh,” Pope said simply.

John B ruffled JJ’s hair, trying to comfort him in the few ways he knew how. “Hey, man. You’re better off without her, alright?”

Kiara scoffed at that, probably knowing as much as JJ did that you were the best thing that ever happened to him.

Pope squeezed JJ’s shoulder. “You’ll find someone who makes you happy.”

JJ shrugged, nodding and giving his friends a tight smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” His lies tasted bitter in his mouth for the first time. It felt wrong to even say that he could be happy without you when he knew that he had never been happier than when he was with you.

Sat in the corner of the room Everything's reminding me of you Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself you're happier Aren't you?

The rest of the pogues had left for a late night surf, JJ giving the excuse that he was exhausted and would meet them at the Chateau later.

They left reluctantly, knowing JJ was bound to torture himself some more by watching you and your new boyfriend Kyle, which ironically enough, was apparently his name. Kiara had confirmed.

JJ had an empty beer bottle in his hand, rolling the neck of it between his fingers every now and then, putting it to his lips just to have something to do as he lost himself in the memories.

You hated this beer. It was always too watery, you had said.

I know that there's others that deserve you But my darling, I am still in love with you

JJ saw Kyle take care of you, wrap his jacket around your arms, press a kiss to your forehead as you smiled.

Maybe Kyle was good for you. JJ had never deserved you anyways. When Kyle leaned down to kiss you carefully, JJ was glad that he was sat in the corner of the room, out of sight from the two of you because he couldn’t help the tears that sprung to his eyes, his hand coming up against his mouth as he tried to physically force the whimper down his throat. He finally tore his eyes away from the two of you, not sure if he could take the sight of you two macking on each other right there in front of him.

He quickly flicked away his tears with his fingers. Fuck, he was still so in love with you. The feeling hadn’t dimmed after a month and he didn’t think it was going to dim in another month, in another year, maybe never in this life.

JJ smashed the bottle against the trash can as he threw it out, the violent action only releasing some of his aggression.

He pulled his lighter out again, looking back up to see you staring right at him, probably startled by the sound of the bottle breaking.

I knew one day you'd fall for someone new But if he breaks your heart like lovers do Just know that I'll be waiting here for you

A soft expression settled over your face. You looked guilty…and sad. JJ didn’t want to dwell on the thought too much, because false hope would most definitely destroy him. But the look in your eyes reminded JJ that he would always wait for you. There was never going to be anyone else; that, he was sure of.

He watched as you pushed Kyle away, saying something harsh to him. Kyle rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. You stood up and walked away from Kyle, towards JJ.

JJ straightened, trying to discreetly make sure there weren’t any more tears on his face. That was the last thing he needed, the last piece of his dignity. Not only was he watching you with your new guy while all alone, but he was crying? Just perfect.

You stopped just a few feet shy of him, crossing your arms over your chest, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

The look in your eyes gave him hope, hope he tried so hard to stomp out. “Hey,” You said.

After hearing your voice after so long, watching his name roll sweetly off of your lips, JJ didn’t trust his own voice, simply raising his eyebrows in greeting.

You played with one of the many bracelets on you wrist, a habit you had picked up from him, actually. You bit your lip, before saying. “I miss you, J.”

And JJ thought he could finally breathe again.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #songfic #ed sheeran #happier ed sheeran #ed sheeran happier #outer banks #jj imagine #jj imagines #jj x reader imagines #jj x reader imagine #obx #pogues #the wreck #outer banks imagines #obx imagines #obx fics #obx songfic #rudy pankow x reader #rudy x reader #rudy pankow x you #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank #rudy imagine #rudy x you

[im-bakugous-bitch]

Izuku Midoriya - Hotel Fight

Prompts 60 and 68 60: "I can't just forget you.  That's not how it works." 68: "You promised, and you lied."

**A/N WARNINGS: swearing, extreme angst?

"You promised, and you lied!"  Your fury was evident in your voice as you tried to keep from screeching at your boyfriend.  Your broken heart was beating out of your chest, fist tightly clutching a newspaper article you'd picked up at the store that day.  Usually you didn't read the newspaper, but a title on this one caught your eye:

Hero DEKU spotted fighting villains in Tokyo

Izuku had been neglecting you lately, and he knew it.  It was the whole reason you were on this trip.  He'd become so obsessed with his Hero work that he'd completely ignored you for the last couple months.  It had sparked many an argument between the two of you, and unfortunately it was going to be the thing to draw your relationship to a close.

You knew how important Izuku's job was.  Not only to him, but to the world.  You couldn't be prouder of the man you called your boyfriend.  But lately he'd just been obsessed with it.  If he did by some miracle return home before ten o'clock at night he'd park himself at the kitchen table and read over paperwork from his work during the day.  When you tried to talk to him, he'd shoo you away.

After a month and a half of being ignored, you tried to take the matter into your own hand.  You thought you knew exactly how to get his attention back.  You had put on your favorite over-sized Plus-Ultra t-shirt and nothing else.  Izuku had only been home for a few minutes, so he was just setting up at the table.

You walked down into the kitchen and, sure enough, he was unpacking his work bag onto the table.  You walked over to and opened the fridge, pretending to look inside for something to eat.  "Hey Izuku," you said, though you knew he wasn't going to answer.  You closed the fridge and turned around to see him bent over the table examining maps and papers, mumbling to himself quietly.

You walked over to him, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around him.  "Izuku, baby," you whined quietly into his ear, "Can't you just take a break for one night?  For me?"

He plucked your arms off of him, not pulling his eyes from the papers in front of him.  "Sorry y/n, not tonight," he said without a hint of sorrow in his voice.

You stood behind him for a moment, heart pounding in your chest.  He'd rejected you?  "I-Izuku," you said quietly.

"I'm not gonna be the next Symbol of Peace by laying in bed every day!  I have to take action!  I can't just sit around while I know other people are suffering out there!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words.  "How ironic that is, Midoriya."  You turned and walked out of the kitchen, but paused in the doorway.  "You want to stop the world's suffering...But you don't care about that which you've caused."

It was only a few days after that Izuku had told you he'd booked you a weekend getaway in Tokyo.  You'd made him promise not to bring any work with him, not even his costume.  He'd very reluctantly agreed, and a couple of weeks later you found yourselves in Tokyo.

The morning after you arrived, you noticed that you woke up alone in your bed.  You sighed but figured he was probably in the bathroom, so you sat up and checked your phone:

Text From: Izuku Midoriya Ran out to get us some breakfast, be back soon!

You couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture.  You wanted so badly to believe that he wasn't lying to you, so you did.  He returned over an hour later with a grocery bag in hand.

"Sorry, I got a little lost," he said as he put the bag down onto the table.  You'd checked the time of his message, and he'd been gone almost three hours.  But you didn't want to ask about it; you didn't want to know.  You wanted to enjoy these couple of days.  You wanted to believe he wouldn't lie to you.

The following morning, you and Izuku were out walking the streets when you saw the newspaper.  Your heart flared with so many emotions: hurt, anger, sadness, but most of all...disappointment.  He'd proved to you that he couldn't be honest with you, and he couldn't even put the work down for a weekend.  You knew how important his job was, but you wanted to be happy too.  Being ignored on a daily basis wasn't the life you wanted to live, even if his motives were good at their core.

You'd excused yourself to run to a bathroom, but had instead purchased a copy of the newspaper and stored it in your bag.  You didn't want to make a scene in public, so you'd confront him when you got back to the room.

When you returned to him, you were hunched over and had a hand on your stomach to feign a stomach ache.  "Baby I don't feel so good," you whined.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around you.  "Let's get you back to the hotel then."  He led you back to the hotel, and you debated your next course of action.  You had to confront him about it, you couldn't just let this betrayal go.  You didn't want to leave Izuku, but...did you really have a choice?

Once you were in your hotel room, you sat down on the edge of your bed and looked at your hands in your lap.  "You lied," you said quietly, not able to bring yourself to look at him.  "Yesterday.  You lied."

He was silent for a moment.  You looked up, expecting him to not answer, but saw him staring at you with wide green eyes.  "y/n, I-"

"Save it," you said as you stood up from the bed.  You pulled the newspaper from your bag and threw it onto the bed.  "You lied to me."

He sighed.  "I wasn't gonna actually do anything unless they needed my help-"

"I don't care!"  You felt incredibly selfish, but you allowed yourself this one indulgence.  You knew you deserved better than a man who lied to and ignored you constantly.  You had asked for three days of his time, and he couldn't grant that to you.  "I needed your help too!  I needed your help to believe there was still a future for this relationship!"

His eyes widened even more.  He took a step towards you and reached to hold your hand, but you yanked yourself away.  "I-I'm so sorry y/n!  I promise, I'll be better from now on."

You couldn't help yourself.  You laughed.  "You promise?  You promise?!"  You reached onto the bed and grabbed the newspaper again.  "You promised me this weekend, Izuku!  You broke that promise!  How the hell am I supposed to trust you again?!"

"I'll make it up to you," he said in a pleading voice.  "Once I get more time off of work-"

"Time off?!"  Your eyes were wider than ever before.  "You need to not be working to spend time with me?!  How about every fucking night when you get home, Izuku?!  How about all those nights you ignored me as you sat at that kitchen table staring at maps and pictures?!"

His light eyes darkened as he said, "I'm doing important work, y/n."

"I know that," you said.  You turned away from him and climbed over the bed to where your open suitcase sat, most of your clothes still folded neatly inside.  "We're leaving.  Now."  You reached for the shirt you had worn the day before, prepared to just wash it when you got home, but he grabbed your wrist.

"Don't do this," he begged.  It was then you realized there were tears streaming down your face, but none on his.  "y/n, I won't apologize for trying to be the best Hero I can be.  But I will apologize for going about it wrong."

"Wrong?"  You pulled your arm away from him.  That's how you got here.

"You promised, and you lied!"  Your fury was evident in your voice as you tried to keep from screeching at your boyfriend. Your broken heart was beating out of your chest, fist tightly clutching the newspaper again.  You'd made up your mind, unfortunately.  You knew Izuku was just trying to help others, but...You both deserved to be happy.  For him, it meant becoming the new Symbol of Peace.  For you, it meant leaving that relationship.

"When we get home, I'm moving out," you said as you shoved your dirty clothes int your suitcase.  You marched over to the bathroom and began to collect your toiletries in your arms.  "You can do all the Hero work you want and just forget about me.  Just like you've been doing."

He stormed into the bathroom behind you.  "I can't just forget you!  That's not how this works!"

"Well you've been doing it pretty easily."  You pushed past him and dumped all the items into your suitcase, wiping the tears from your eyes.  "I'm ready to leave, Midoriya.  Pack your bag while I call a cab."  You went back into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind yourself as you called a local taxi company.

Your heart broke as you dialed the numbers, but you had to believe you were doing the right thing.  You loved Izuku, but you couldn't put yourself through this for him.  

After your call with the taxi company, you put your ear to the door and listened to Izuku moving around.  That was when you finally heard the sobbing.

#izuku #izuku x reader #midoriya #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia izuku #my hero academia izuku x reader #mha izuku #mha izuku x reader #boku no hero academia izuku #boku no hero academia izuku x reader #bnha izuku #bnha izuku x reader #my hero academia midoriya #my hero academia midoriya x reader #mha midoriya #mha midoriya x reader #boku no hero academia midoriya #boku no hero academia midoriya x reader

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

As promised, Wednesday after work, you and Harry went to the tattoo parlor so you could get your nose pierced. You picked out a white gold stud, and picked out a few hoops you’d want to interchange with once you could.

“This one is so cool, it has diamonds on it. It could be for like special occasions.”

Harry couldn’t wait to see you with the hoop once it was time. He was already parched just thinking about it. You grabbed some thinner hoops for work as well. He watches you look over the naval piercings. He points to a few he likes and you grab one of them. Your name gets called and you go to sit in the chair.

“Which side?”

“Left, please.”

“And you’re doing this so you can have a hoop later, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so I’ll do it a little lower down. Now, don’t twist this like you would an ear piercing. You need to let this be so it can heal properly.”

“Okay.” You reach out for Harry’s hand as the man cleans up your nose. You close your eyes, and Harry almost thinks to take your picture because he think you look so cute.

“Okay, here we go.”

You grit your teeth and white knuckle Harry’s hand. He places his other hand on your shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelp as the needle goes into your nose.

“Almost done.” The man reassures you.

Your nostril felt numb, but you were happy with it when he showed it to you in the mirror.

“Looks great, love.”

“Alright, Harry, you ready?”

“Yup.” He hands him a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like that on my forearm, where there’s space.”

Harry sits down in a chair as the man cleans up his arm. You sit next him.

“What are you getting?”

Before Harry can answer, the man puts a piece of paper over where Harry wants it and peels it back. You see a very small, very detailed sunflower.

“A sunflower, for my sunflower.” He winks at you.

“Oh, Harry…are you sure?”

“Positive. Will yeh hold my hand?” He smiles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “It really hurt.”

“I know baby.” He puts his hand out to you as the man gets to work. You’re amazed that Harry doesn’t even flinch, but he had so many he could hardly feel it anymore.

Thirty or so minutes later it was done. You take a picture of it for him before the man bandages it up. You each pay separately for your things and head out.

“So my nose really looks good?”

“Yup, can’t wait to see the hoop in it though.”

“Six to eight weeks.” You smile. “I can’t believe you got my favorite flower tattooed on you, that was so sweet.”

“S’not weird?”

“Not at all! It’s so special, like, something for the two of us.” He takes your hand in his and kisses it.

//

Harry had confirmed your double date with Rachel and Mariah. The four of you agreed on a trivia night at a local bar. You all meet there Friday night after work. It was a little weird for Harry to be hanging out with someone outside of work, but he got on with Mariah pretty well, so it wasn’t totally awkward.

You and Rachel told stories from college, and Mariah talked about getting into photography. Rachel explains why she wanted to be a high school art teacher.

“I just think kids that age lose a lot of the fun in their lives. Art is important at any age, but when they’re getting ready to go to college, I wanna help them destress with my classes.”

“That’s so cool.” Mariah says and Rachel blushes.

“Mariah, what was it like when you and Harry first met?” You were a tad tipsy.

“Oh god, I was terrified of him.” She laughs and his jaw drops. “But then when he shook my hand and I saw the bright pink color on his nails, I knew wasn’t so scary.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget, after the first two weeks, he comes over to me and he says, ‘I think you’re the only person here other than myself that isn’t a blithering idiot’.” Everyone at the table laughs at her impression of him. It was pretty good.

“I was right though.”

“Very true. God, it’s so annoying when someone else tries to set up a shot for you, isn’t it? Like hello, I have a vision.”

“Exactly! If it was as easy as just snappin’ away, anyone would do it.”

“So was everyone scared of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I think they were mostly intimidated. Everyone talks to each other and gets together, but H always stuck to himself.”

“Not the type of people I wanted to be chummy with.” He has a disgusted look on his face, thinking of Mykenzie. “I quite like Isaac though, he’s been a good addition.”

“Love Isaac, he always gets us everything we need.”

“He’s always so nice when I come to visit.” You say.

“He’s got a huge crush on Harry.” Mariah giggles.

“Stop it.” Harry says groaning.

“You know he does.”

“Thought he just thought I was cute or somethin’. Didn’t think it was a crush.”

“Well, I’ve never asked him personally, so he could easily just be attracted to you. I’ve heard him talk about it with Julia and Dana.” The sound of Julia’s name makes you want to vomit.

“Jesus, Harry, does everyone at your work have a thing for you?” Rachel asks.

“Everyone except this one.” He winks and nods towards Mariah, making both girls giggle.

Trivia starts and you all pick a stupid team name. You and Rachel were best at coming up with answers. You both knew a lot about pop culture, and luckily there weren’t too many other categories.

“How the fuck did yeh know that?” Was something Harry said quite a bit, and you both just shrugged your shoulders.

“Which Kardashian married an NBA player after dating for thirty days?” The emcee asks.

“Oh that was Khloe.” You tell Rachel to write down. Harry’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re obsessed with reality television!”

“Not true! I used to watch Keeping Up when I was in college. It was night to have on in the background when I’d do homework. It’s not a show you have to pay attention to.”

“What was the name of season twenty Bachelor?”

“Ben Higgins.” You, Rachel, and Mariah all say at the same time.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You watch the Bachelor?” Rachel asks her.

“Never miss an episode. You watch?”

“Yeah, we should get together to watch some time.”

“I’d like that.” They smile at each other. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give it a little squeeze.

“What did Leonardo DiCaprio text back to Jennifer Lopez after James Corden texted him from her phone back in 2016?”

“Who the fuck would know-“

“You mean tonight boo boo? Club wise?” You say as Rachel nods and writes it down. You look at Harry whose mouth was hanging wide open. “Do you not watch carpool karaoke ever?”

“Can’t say I do, love.”

“You’re missing out.” You giggle.

“Do you still have that picture of Leo with that quote over his like serious face and it’s in black and white?”

“I do! It’s in a drawer in my office. Makes me laugh when I look at it.”

You were quirky, and Harry rarely got to see these little things come out. He liked it, a lot. You were sort of nerdy in your own right and he thought it was insanely cute.

Your group came in third place, earning you each a coupon for a free app the next time you came to the bar. You all say goodnight, and confirm what time with Rachel you should be over tomorrow to get ready.

//

Your hair was up in messy bun and you had sweats on before you left for Sarah and Rachel’s. You bring your large overnight bag out to the front hall, and go up to the loft to say goodbye to Harry.

“Any plans tonight, baby?”

“Yeah, Niall’s comin’ over. Think we’re goin’ to play Madden.”

“Oh great!”

“That’s what you’re wearin’ for your big night out?”

“God no, I’m getting ready with them. Like old times. We pregame a little while doing each other’s hair and make up. We decide on outfits, all that girly stuff.”

“So I don’t even get to see what you’re wearin’ out before you go?” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips as you stand between his legs.

“’Fraid not.” You lean in and kiss his forehead. “I’ll send you a pic though.” You kiss him on the lips. “Have fun with Niall.”

“Have fun with the girls.”

He watches you descend down the stairs. He was very curious to know what you might be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t too sexy since he wouldn’t be there. The thought of a bunch people looking at you didn’t sit right with him, but it was out of his control. He also hated that you wouldn’t be coming back to him tonight. He wanted your drunk cuddles, they were the best.

You drive to Rachel and Sarah’s and hug Sarah and wish her a happy birthday. You all start drinking and get ready. You each take turns posting to your Instagram stories. Giggles and music in the background.

Niall comes over to see Harry, and they both get set up on the sofa.

“How was your date last night?” Harry asks.

“Made her cry tears of joy, finally gave her a key to my place.”

“Good for you mate!” Harry smiles at him. Niall checks his phone and looks at all three of your stories. “What in the fuck was that?”

“Our girls havin’ a grand ol’ time. Look.” Niall shows him Sarah’s story and sees you with your hair half done, curling iron in hand, making a kiss face as Rachel dances behind you. “Like they never stopped livin’ together.” He chuckles.

“Any idea where they’re goin’?”

“Pinz I think.”

//

“Okay, what am I wearing?” Sarah asks.

“We got you this sash that says ‘birthday bitch’ so you have to wear it.” Rachel giggles.

“Guess that means I should wear my red dress to match, huh?” She snatches it. “What did you bring, Y/N?”

“Oh, just my fav party outfit.” You grin. You take out a skin tight quarter sleeve, olive green, midi dress.

“Ohhh shiiiittt.” Rachel says. “She back in town.”

“For one night only.” You wink.

Sarah puts on a short sleeve red dress that flowed around her thighs. Rachel put on a black pencil skirt and white crop top. You all looked great. None of you wore a bra, purposefully, to just make out all of your piercings. You set up your phone to take a few pictures of the three of you. The three of you were feeling sexy, and you were ready to show Sarah a good time.

“Wait, I told Harry I’d send him a picture.”

“Better send one to Niall too.”

“Okay, line up you heteros.” Rachel says sarcastically. You both stick your tongue out at her.

“Y/N, push your boobs up, really put a show on for him.” She giggles.

“Okay, like this?” You push your boobs up and pout your lips.

“Model! Model vibes!” Sarah screams as she takes a shot of tequila.

“Okay, now turn around and look over your shoulder. Gotta show that booty.” You do as she says.

“He’s gonna kill me.” You laugh.

“Why?”

“Because not only am I not wearing a bra, but I don’t have any panties on either.”

“Well, duh, you can’t with that dress.” Sarah defends you. “Okay, my turn.”

You and Rachel snap pictures of the birthday girl. You both send the pictures to your boyfriends. You take some more silly pictures altogether.

“You know what’s crazy? This is my first birthday without Kate in years…”

“Are you upset we didn’t invite her?” Rachel asks.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I haven’t really missed her to tell you the truth.”

“Me neither.” You admit. “I miss the old times, but I’ve been less stressed without her in my life.”

“Agreed.” Rachel says. “Uber’s here! Let’s hit it.”

//

Niall and Harry’s phones go off at the same time. They look at each other and pause their game.

“Jesus.” Harry’s eyes pop out of his head.

“Holy hell.” Niall says looking at the pictures Sarah sent him.

Harry zooms in on the pictures best he can. You looked incredible. He wanted to tear the dress right off you.

“Mate?” Harry says with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not wearin’ any knickers…”

“Doesn’t look like Sarah’s got a bra on either.”

“Same with Y/N…why would they do that?” Harry looks at him panicked. “I mean, look, not even any knickers!” He shoves the phone his face, but Niall pushes it back.

“Do ya really want me lookin’ at her arse?”

“Right, no, I don’t. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Why would she do this t’me?” He whines.

“To remind ya how fuckin’ lucky ya are.” Niall gets up. “Come on, we better break into the liquor instead of just beer tonight.”

“Good idea.”

//

The three of you get to Pinz, and Sarah is given a free shot and drink of her choice as the bartender sees her sash and ID. You all head to the dance floor once you have your drinks. The music was good tonight, really good. You were all laughing and singing, adding more to your Instagram stories. Niall and Harry couldn’t help but keep refreshing their feeds to see what the three of you were up to.

“They’re havin’ a lot of fun…” Harry says.

“Fuck girl’s nights. We should be allowed to show up.” Niall slurs.

“Even to just roll up and have a shag in the bathroom quick, then I’d be good.”

“Exactly! S’not askin’ too much.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I was told specifically not to show up.”

“Bullshit is what it is.” Harry slurs. How much did they drink?

You go up to the bar to grab the next round of drinks. You bump into someone by accident and apologize.

“Oh, no worries…Y/N?”

“Matt?!” You cross your arms over your chest immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hi, um, how are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. How are things with school?”

“Good, new semester. Miss working with you all.”

“We miss you too.” You walk up closer to the bar. You lower your hands and flip your hair slightly to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whatya have gorgeous?”

“Three vodka cranberries please.” You push your boobs closer together.

“Got a tab?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten bucks.”

“But that’s only-“

“Know it’s your friend’s birthday over there.” He winks at you, and you put a ten dollar bill and a couple of singles down on the bar while he makes the drinks. Matt was in awe of you.

“Come here a lot?” You ask him.

“A little yeah. We came here for my birthday like you suggested, so we come out when we can. Guys! This is Y/N!” A few of his friends look at you and their faces flush, they wave hello and you wave back.

“Alright, here ya go.” You hear the bartender say.

“Thanks so much!” You say taking the drinks.

“Get off at two by the way.” You blush and smile at him. “Just a girl’s night, but thanks.” He nods in understanding.

“Well, it was good seeing you. Have fun!” Matt and the bartender watch you walk away.

Rachel and Sarah each take a drink from you. You notice a napkin stuck to yours.

“Oh god!”

“What?” They both ask.

“The bartender gave me his phone number! What should I do? Just throw it out right??”

“Toss it on the floor!” Rachel says. And you do just that. You didn’t want to risk Harry finding anything like that.

The three of you continue to dance and pop your asses to the songs the club was playing. It was a really great time. You each have another round of vodka cranberries, courtesy of Rachel. Harry hadn’t texted you more than a kissy face since you sent him the pictures. You take out your phone and send him a drunk text.

You: having fun w ni?

Harry smirks when he sees it.

Harry: mhm, having fun with the girlies?

You: so much fun!! Miss u

Harry: miss you too baby

You: ur a cutie

Harry had a dopey smile on his face and Niall starts laughing.

“Oi, what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You’re so gaga over her.” He shakes his head.

“S’not a bad thing.” He pouts.

“Not at all.”

The three of you laugh and sing and are actually quite annoying in the back of the uber on the way back to Rachel and Sarah’s. The three of you set up camp in the living room with air-mattresses, blankets and pillows. Sarah uses the bathroom first to wash her face and change. You sit down and your head feels heavy. You decide to FaceTime Harry, Rachel sits next to you to get in on it.

“Oh check it out, she’s FaceTimin’ me.” He says to Niall. The two had just started a movie. “Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hi Harry!”

“Hi girls.”

“Where’s my girl?” Niall pouts.

“Birthday girl got first dibs on the bathroom.” You explain. “Whatcha up to?”

“We just started a movie, love.”

“Ohhhh, fun. We’re gonna do that too, just waiting to wash our faces.”

“How was the bar?”

“So much fun! We danced the whole time.”

“I’ll bet. Any guys try to give yeh their number?” He jokes. Your face and Rachel’s lose all color. You both look at each other and laugh nervously. “Wait, did a guy actually try to give you their number?”

“Um…just the bartender.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. “But I didn’t even realize it! He had put a napkin with our drinks and I noticed it. I threw it right on the ground!”

“Why did he give it to you though?”

“Y/N only paid ten buck for the drinks.” Sarah giggles, sitting down with them, only in a large t-shirt. “Oh, hi Niall!”

“Hey baby!”

“You only had to pay ten dollars for three drinks?”

“Mhm.” Your face grows red. Rachel starts giggling. “Stop, you’re not helping.”

“What did you do? Why’d he discount it?”

“He said he knew it was Sarah’s birthday.” You shrug. You burst out laughing. “And I may have pushed my boobs up.” The other two start laughing.

“Y/N, that’s not fu-“

“You know what, I really need to pee. You know how I am when I really need to pee, Harry. I love you, have a fun rest of your night!” You end the call and get up to use the bathroom.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You cannot get mad at her, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s drunk, clearly. She doesn’t know what she’s sayin’.”

“She purposefully showed off to get a discounted drinks!”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing.”

“Not while I was datin’ someone…”

“Oh Harry.” Niall shakes his head. “Please don’t make this a big deal. If I was a woman that looked like her, like any of ‘em, I’d do the same thing. Relationship or not. Don’t spoil her fun.”

“M’not.” He sighs. “You wouldn’t be mad if Sarah told you somethin’ like that.”

“It’s her birthday, she can do whatever she wants.” He shrugs.

Niall and Harry pass out on the couch, and they both wake up around three in the morning. Niall leaves and goes back home across the street while Harry sleeps in his bed alone. He imagines how lonely it must’ve been for you while he was away. He sleeps in the middle of the bed so it doesn’t feel so large without you.

//

You and the girls stay up until nearly five in the morning. You watch old movies and reminisce on your days in school together. You all pass out snuggled up together like old times. Harry woke up around eleven and you still weren’t home. No texts or anything from you. He sighs, and gets up to make some coffee. Just as he’s walking out to the kitchen, only in his boxers, he here’s your footsteps. He stands leaning against the wall of the outside of the kitchen, arms crossed waiting for you to enter.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, your sweat pants were hanging low on your hips, your dress from last night was rolled up to look like a shirt, and you had your sunglasses on. You drop your bag once you get into the living area, and you jump when you see Harry.

“Christ.” You say, pulling your sunglasses up on the top of your head.

“Fun night?”

“Mhm.” He starts chuckling. “What?”

“What are you wearin’?”

“I woke up sweaty and didn’t wanna wear my shirt home, so I put this back on, and these are your sweatpants, so they’re baggy, and I know I look ridiculous okay?” You walk towards him and go into the kitchen. He follows you. “Need coffee.” You go over to the Keurig.

“Do you remember FaceTimin’ me last night?” He asks with his arms still crossed. Yes.

“Vaguely.” You press the button on the machine after putting your favorite mug underneath.

“Do yeh remember sending me those pictures at the beginning of the night?”

“Course I do.” You turn to look at him. “I looked like a fucking stunner.” He looks down and sees your pebbling nipples through the top of your dress. You cross your arms over yourself.

“So happy everyone got to see your nips last night.”

“No one saw anything. It was dark in the club.”

“You didn’t have any knickers on.”

“And how would you know that? Easily could’ve been wearing a thong.”

“Were you?”

“No.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t wear underwear with this dress, it shows everything.”

“Why would you wear it then?”

“Because I felt like it.” The coffee finishes pouring. You go over to the fridge and grab your creamer, and pour a little in. You bring the mug to your lips and take a small sip. You sigh happily. Harry begins making his own coffee. “Did you and Niall have fun?”

“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “Yeh hungover?”

“No, stomach just feels gross. We drank vodka cranberries all night. Way too much sugar.”

“Need breakie?”

“No.” You giggle. “Thanks, we ate. We had some hash-browns and cheesy eggs, that’s why I’m just getting back now.” You finish up your coffee and put your mug in the sink. You yawn and stretch. “I feel like I need to sleep for like ten years.”

You leave the kitchen and start taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom. You were desperate a shower. But Harry was more desperate for you. You feel him wrap his arms around you from behind. You had only taken your top off.

“You’re still not wearin’ knickers.” He says into your ear.

“Nope.” You press back against him, and you feel him growing hard.

“I missed you last night.” He whispers while nipping at your earlobe. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his.

“And I bet you missed more seeing me dressed like that?” Your nose brushes against his as he nods. “My poor baby.” You rest your chin on his shoulder as you hug him closer to you. “Let me take a shower, and then I promise I’ll love on you all day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You kiss him on the cheek and let go of him.

“I can’t shower with you?” He pouts.

“I need to, like, shave and stuff. Just ten minutes, get cozy and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

“Alright.” He sighs like you’ve denied him of the world, and gets on the bed.

You do your thing in the bathroom. You don’t need to wash your hair, so that saves a good chunk of time. Your stomach still feels like shit, but you know it’ll pass. You dry off completely and moisturize your freshly shaven legs. Usually you’re wrapped in a towel, have your robe on, or even have pj’s on after you shower. You and the girls were introduced to tik tok last night, and you kind of want to try the new challenge going around. You just hoped Harry kept his boxers on.

You grab your phone and start the video, showing the audience that you’ve dropped your towel. You open the bathroom door slowly. Harry had an arm behind his head, and the other hand was scrolling through his phone. You giggle as you open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey baby?” He looks over at you, furrowing his brows while he smiles.

“What are you doin’?” He reaches his hands out to you.

“Air drying.”

He gets up off the bed and walks towards you, picking you up, you stop your video and laugh hysterically. He puts you down on the bed, and wonders what’s so funny.

“Were you recordin’ me?”

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to since you’re like naked.”

“Post it where?”

“Tik tok…”

“Jesus, how old are you?” He chuckles. “Dana and Julia are on that app all the time.”

“It’s actually a lot of fun. The girls and I all downloaded it last night. There’s this challenge going around for couples, so I thought I’d give it a try. Look, watch your face.” You play the video back for him and you both start laughing. “But I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.”

“S’fine, I don’t really care.” He shrugs.

You post the video and add all the hashtags, then put your phone on the night table. You turn over and rest your head on his chest. You drape your leg over his, and he pulls your thigh up closer. He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Ohh, nice and smooth.” He coos. “Not that I really care if you’re hairy.”

“So if I just stopped shaving my legs, you wouldn’t care?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said it’s for your own comfort right? Do what yeh want. It doesn’t bother me, hair is natural.”

“How progressive of you.” You say facetiously. He looks down at you as he continues to stroke your leg.

Your hand goes up into his hair and he leans in to lightly kiss you. You kiss him back, and you both sink into it. Your mouth opens for him and his tongue slides in tasting you until your tongue meets his. You both let out soft moans. One of his hands is cupping the back of your head, the other leaves your thigh and moves up to your breast, kneading it.

You pull him on top of you, and you feel his hard cock press against your hip, as your kiss deepens even more. It wasn’t often the two of you just made out. You always really liked kissing, to have someone’s lips on yours. Harry had soft lips, always. He was good at pressing them hard against yours, always making yours puffy and swollen after. You loved the shade of his lips too, especially after kissing. They would become this raspberry color. It made you want to bite onto them even more.

Subconsciously that’s what you do. You bite his bottom lip and suck it into your mouth. He groans and grinds himself against your hip. You let go of his lip slowly, really making a show of it as you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Want you.” He says in a whisper.

“Take me.” You whisper back.

He groans again kissing you quick before tugging his boxers down his legs, and tossing them to the floor. He hovers back over you, and you put your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands reaches between your legs to make sure you’re wet. Of course you are. It doesn’t take much with him. He smirks as you spread apart for him. He lines himself up and he slowly pushes inside. You both moan at the initial contact.

Once he’s all the way in, he stays there for a moment, just savoring how your velvety walls feel around him. You tighten out of instinct, and loosen up letting him know he can move. He slowly starts to rock his hips against yours. Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Y’like that?”

“Yes.” You say with your eyes rolling back into your head.

He keeps up the same motion, just rocking in and out of you, his tip hitting your g-spot already. He picks up the pace only a little to give himself some of the friction he’s been craving, but he slows it back down for you because he knows that’s how you like it. One of his hands drops back down to rub slow, but purposeful circles on your clit.

“Ngh, Harry.” You moan softly.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the grasp at the hair on the nape of neck. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing you softly. Your breathing was getting heavier. He could feel you starting to tighten against him in preparation for your orgasm.

“Gonna come f’me, angel?” You moan at his words, your eyes fluttering closed. “Go on, I know you can do it. Come all around my cock.” He nips at your neck, and your heels dig into the backs of his thighs.

You let out a large moan of his name, tears pricking at your eyes, and he feels you pulsate around him. He fucks you through it, not letting up on your g-spot or clit. You come really hard, and the sound in the room fills with squelching and skin slapping against skin.

“Gimme another one, come on, let’s see how many we can go for.” Your eyes pop open. You realize he still hadn’t let up on you. You start panting again.

“Harry.” You groan. It was too much. You were so sensitive.

“Don’t hold back baby, just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The way he was talking to you was sending you to another dimension. You release around him again and he groans against you, loving the way it feels.

He leans up a bit and looks down at you with a wicked grin.

“What?” You say trying to catch your breath.

“Can I hit it from the side, love?” Your eyes grow dark with lust and you nod.

He helps you turn your body with him still inside you. One of your legs going up over his shoulders, and the other staying between his own legs. He rocks into you and your back arches immediately.

“Feel good?” He smirks.

“So good.” You clutch at the blankets as he continues to rock in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth. You reach down to rub your swollen clit.

“Jesus.” He moans watching you touch yourself.

“Harry, I…I want you back on top of me, wanna feel your weight on me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

He pulls out of you only for a moment to let you adjust. Both of his eyebrows raise as he watches you flip onto your stomach. You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Go on, I’m okay. Want it this way. Just get fully on top of me. You’ve done it before.”

“Okay…but…if-“

“I promise I’ll tell if you if I’m scared.” You wiggle your butt back at him to let you know you’re getting impatient.

He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, and he lines himself up to enter you again. You feel his chest flush to your back, and he rocks into you slowly. You raise your hips slightly to slip your hand underneath yourself to rub your clit. Harry grabs your other hand with his, and you intertwine. That’s that good shit, you think to yourself. Your hands rest together by your head.

He’s getting in so deep this way, and the way he’s squeezing one of your hips just feels so good. You rub yourself a little faster, and you feel another orgasm coming on. He can feel it coming too.

“That’s it baby, come f’me again.” That was all he needed to say to make your release come. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” You pulse and vibrate around his cock. You wonder how much longer he’ll last.

You both have a pretty decent rhythm going. You push yourself back against him, and his hand moves from your hip to your ass. You squeeze tighter on the hand that’s intertwined with yours. He kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. You arch up into him.

“I love you, Harry.” You groan.

“I love you too, so fuckin’ much. Wanna be able to look at yeh, can we do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out so you can flip back over. You grab back at his hand so you can continue to hold onto it. He knows you really like this. His other hand slides up your torso, feeling every inch of your smooth skin. His hand rest gently on your throat, he doesn’t even tighten around you, he just wants it there. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. He thrusts in deep and stay there so you can grind against him.

“Harry.” You moan. You were overly sensitive at this point, but he was so rock hard inside you, it felt amazing.

“C’mon baby, show me how you do it.”

You nails from your free hand dig into his bicep as your fourth release comes out in waves.

“Shit! Fuck!” You scream. You were completely drenched in sweat now. You felt like you were going to need another shower. “Harry, please.”

“Not done with yeh yet, my love.” You look up at him. What the hell was he trying to do to you? He kisses you hard as he moves his hips in circles.

“Mother of fuck!” You gasp.

“Yeah, you like it when I do that, huh?” You nod your head yes as he continues you stretching you out like this.

You’re down for the count when you feel your legs start to shake again and your back arches fully off the bed. He smirks watching your body writhe underneath him.

“Harry.” You breathe. “It’s too much.”

“Want me to come now?”

“Yes, please. Fill me up.”

He grins at you and squeezes tightly on your hand as he thrusts in and out of you. It doesn’t take much for him to come. The warmth from it all feels incredible. He pulls out once he’s done, and collapses next to you. Your mouth hangs open as you look at him. Your legs felt like jello. It was some intense love making to say the least.

“What was that all about?” You say, reaching for him. He lays his head on your chest.

“Just something maybe you’ll keep in the back of your head next time you flirt with some bartender to get free drinks.” He looks up at you with a smirk, and your jaw drops farther.

Oh he was good, really good. He was telling the truth when he said he missed you. But he didn’t want to make you come over and over just because you both were in a lovey mood. No, he wanted to teach you a lesson. To remind you he was always there, no matter what. That he was the only one worth giving the time of day to. That he was the only one that was ever going to make you feel this way. Well played Mr. Styles, well played.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #ahhhhh #come hang in my ask box to chat cause i dont feel like doing hw #i loved this chapter sm idk why #yes i do

[izzyrenee13]

Morpho: Clint Barton x OC

LIZA’S POV

2012

“Explain to me again, what exactly do you want this reactor to do?” I asked my lovely father as he showed me the blueprints to an underwater reactor he was going to build, presumably soon. He and I both knew I understood his plans, but just wanted to hear him say it again, and so he did. It was no question, I shared my fathers brain, his wit, but I was more skilled than he was. That was his own fault though, since I could walk I was in various combat training classes, having high ranks in most, I was a trained marksman and I could hack the most secure buildings in the world. I also had my powers, I forget about those sometimes though.

As he finished his explanation of the reactor, my phone rang, usually I’d ignore it but Phil Coulson doesn’t call people unless it’s important. “Hey Dad, I have to get this.” I stood up from the computer in the lab, my tone slightly worried. He nodded and went back to checking the prints a millionth time.

“Agent Stark.” I answered, a standard greeting for any SHIELD calls I got.

“Stark, we need you to come in.” Phil sounded panicked, and Phil Coulson never panicked.

“Phil, I’m in New York, with my dad, can’t work wait until my week off--” I was cut off.

“Barton’s been compromised.” That sentence was all it took to cause anxiety and panic to course through my body. “And please, ask Tony about project TAI. He’ll know what to do.”

So I did, and not even an hour later, I was in a Stark Industries helicopter, landing on the bridge of a SHIELD helicarrier. As I got out of my ride, I was greeted by one third of my crew, Natasha Romanoff, and Doctor Bruce Banner. “Nat!” I was a mess, ever since Phil told me Clint had been compromised, I’d been crying, just pulling myself together the last ten minutes of the flight. I ran over to my red headed best friend and threw my arms around her. I was one of, maybe two, people in the world she would hug. “Have you seen him?”

She hugged me back, “No. I haven’t, but we’ll find him and we’ll get HIM back.” She pulled away from the hug, “Agent Stark, this is Doctor Banner,” She introduced me to the man, who just witnessed me be vulnerable. I instantly put on my ‘Agent Face’ and greeted him.

“Agent Elizabeth Stark, your work on anti-electron collisions is...unparalleled.” I stuck my hand out for him to shake, internally I was fangirling. On top of being one of SHIELD’s top agents, I had degrees in Thermonuclear Engineering, Physics, and Literature.

“Thank you, Doctor Bruce Banner,” He shook my hand, “Stark as in…?”

“Yes, Doc, my father is Anthony Edward Stark, and my does he know it.” I giggled slightly. The three of us started walking along the bridge, coming up on a quinjet that had just landed. Out stepped my favorite awkward man and America’s first super soldier. “Phil, I see you’ve called in..” I trailed off, knowing what he was doing, why he was bringing us here.

“That I have Liza. That I have.” He smiled and gave me a side hug. It wasn’t a secret how close the “three assassins” were, especially me and Clint.

Nat approached us from talking to a fellow agent, “They need you inside, they’ve started running the face trace.” She directed at coulson.

~

Third Person POV

Captain America was on the ground fighting with Loki, while Black Widow and Morpho were in the quinjet, manning the jet and trying to get Loki to drop the sceptre. Eventually, with Iron Man’s help, they contain Loki and head back to the helicarrier from Germany.

All of a sudden, Loki is in the hands of his brother, Thor. A fight ensues, and Morpho wonders if she should teleport down to help contain Loki, but decides against it.

~

Morpho freezes when she sees Hawkeye for the first time since getting that dreaded phone call. Morpho and Black Widow fight Hawkeye until he gets knocked out, Morpho staying with him and eventually taking him to the medical wing after the fight, which got the Hulk to come out, ended.

~

A day later, Thor, Iron Man, Hulk, Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Morpho are fighting Loki’s army of the Chitauri. Black Widow is about to close the portal when Iron Man cuts in, “No. Wait.”

“Stark, these things are still coming!” Captain America warns.

“”I’ve got a nuke coming in, it’s gonna blow in less than a minute and I know just where to put it.”

“Dad..that’s a one way trip.” Morpho stands in the middle of the street, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I know. I love you, my little butterfly.” He says as he disconnects his comms and flies the nuke into the portal.

~

Liza’s POV

Once we had fought, and fought, we had finally sat down to eat some shawarma at this little place in Queens. We were all just talking amongst ourselves, I was currently going off on my dad for trying to sacrifice himself, while casting an illusion to hug Clint, Nat and Bruce, we all needed it. As soon as my illusions dropped, Thor cleared his throat.

“Lady Liza, I have an announcement to make that will interest you, most of all.” He started, “There is a reason I was on Midgard, other than my little brother. I was to come find my long lost sister Tyr, tell her of her origins, and bring her home so the Allfather and Allmother can explain their actions.”

“I love you Thor, but how does this involve me?” I questioned, being genuinely curious about the whole predicament. There was no way in heaven or hell I was Tyr...it would explain my magical abilities and why I healed faster and whenever I got sick I was only down for a couple of hours, but no..I couldn’t be.

“Liza, You are Tyr. I was sent, with an image of who and where you are. Heimdall has been keeping tabs on you for years. I understand if you do not wish to talk this over here, but rather somewhere more comfortable.” Thor slightly explained and I simply just nodded, everyone, including myself in a state of shock.

~

That night we all decided to stay at the Triskelion Barracks, where everyone had a room connected with one big common area. We were The Avengers now, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, we needed a place to stay after long world saving missions, though my father was already in talks with Fury, to change Stark Tower into Avengers Tower.

Thor, Clint, my dad and I were all sitting in the common area waiting for a more lengthy explanation from Thor, Clint and my dad being there for moral support. I looked at Thor, “Please, explain how I’m a norse goddess.”

“It was merely 25 Midgardian years ago, my mother Frigga got pregnant, unexpectedly, as she had not been pregnant since she had me, roughly 28 Midgardian years ago. When my father heard the news, he was ecstatic, but made a political decision for the unborn baby my mother was carrying.” He started, looking at me to make sure I was following, “He decided to send Frigga to earth, have her meet and sleep with Tony Stark, later convincing him she was pregnant with his baby, then she was to leave him, aged 18, to care for the baby until she was ready to take on her royal status.”

“Hold the FUCK UP.” Tony started, “You’re telling me, Carrie wasn’t Carrie, that--my whole relationship was a lie?” He was fuming. I was just as shocked as he was. No matter what though, Tony Stark was still my father.

“I’m sorry, but yes, I hated my father’s logic and wanted to stop him, but I could not.” Thor was genuinely sorry, and I grabbed my dad’s hand to assure him I needed the rest of the story. “As I was saying, the baby girl was to be named as Tony wished, but her Asgardian records were to have her as Tyr.”

“Okay, that explains my powers and extreme strength, but uh-- What-- what am I the goddess of?” I inquired, curious.

“Oh yes! How could I forget, Tyr is to be the Goddess of War, Justice and Law!” He was excited. “I do have a question for you, little sister.” It felt weird to me, Thor calling me a sibling.

“Shoot.” I faked a smile, overwhelmed at the information I had dumped on me, the fact I knew I’d have to talk with this alone with both Tony and Clint, so many things.

“Loki and I leave for Asgard tomorrow, so he can get the punishment he deserves, please come with us, meet your Asgardian family.” He looked hopeful. What would it hurt to meet my actual creators?

“I’ll go.” I answered. With that he stood up and excitedly wished a goodnight to the three of us left.

“Hey, Clint, Can you give my dad and I a couple minutes? I’ll come talk to you when I’m done.” I started and Clint went to his room, leaving Tony and I.

“Dad..” I started, and when I finally looked at him, I saw THE Tony Stark crying.

“You--you’re not--I didn’t make you.” He stuttered over his words.

“I do not give a flying fuck who my biological parents are. You’ve been my dad for almost 25 years now. You. Are. My. Dad. Always have been, always will be. I’m 24, you’re 42. We have the rest of our lives to be father & daughter. I won’t leave you because of this new found ‘family’. You and Pepper and Happy and Nick, you guys are my family. That won’t change.” I went on a small tangent.

He pulled me into a hug, gave me a kiss on the cheek and muttered a ‘thank you’ into my hair. He felt reassured, I knew his anxiety would get the best of his brain after that revelation. He got up and went to his room after that, and I made my way to Clint’s room.

I knocked on the door, he opened it and I instantly walked to him, gave him a hug and started crying. I was exhausted and overly emotional, I wasn’t as closed off as Natasha so me showing Clint my emotions wasn’t weird.

He just held me and listened to me rant about everything that had been dumped on me in the last two days. I almost lost my best friend, found out I was a goddess and I’m not technically human. I kept coming back to almost losing Clint. I couldn’t lose him. He was my rock, my person. I was in love with him, and god damn it, one day I’ll tell him, just not right now.

Once he got me to calm down, he walked me back to my room, and once we got there, “Stay. Please. I leave for another realm tomorrow and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” I asked my best friend. We’d cuddled and slept in the same bed multiple times, platonically.

So he did, we both crawled into my bed, I laid my head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. I wished I could stay like that forever. Slowly, we both drifted into sleep.

~

The next morning after everyone had woken up and got ready, we headed to Central Park to have a send off. Thor and I had taken Loki out of SHIELD custody and were heading to Asgard. Apparently, my magic was the only magic in this realm that could counter Loki’s.

Thor was addressing the group, but really the information was for me, “We’ll be in Asgard for about a week, which is roughly three weeks Midgardian time.Time moved weirdly between the realms as one year here is 53 on Asgard.”

With that, Thor, Loki and I stood on a bridge overlooking a little river, holding a contraption that held the tesseract. I said my goodbyes and gave everyone a hug, spending a little more time on my dad and Clint. When I walked over to my brothers, we twisted the contraption and were off to Asgard.

(BONUSSSSS: THIRD PERSON POV)

Clint and Natasha were walking away from the group when the assassin turned to the Archer, “So when are you gonna tell Liza?” She asked.

“Tell her what?” He looked at his best friend, a quizzical look on his face.

“Oh god, you don’t think I’m stupid do you? Even the Iceman can see it, You’re in love with Elizabeth Stark.”

“I--uh-- what--- I don’t”

“Just tell her before it’s too late.”

_________

A/N:

GAHHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT.

Also, if I decide to incorporate movies into this book, it’ll happen like this chapter did, the plot skimmed over in third person. I’m not sure if any other movies are gonna be canon in this, but this one in particular was important to the plot.

-Izzy

Masterlist

Taglist: @hawkeyesbabe

#Clint Barton #Marvel #Avengers #avengers incorrect quotes #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanoff #Happy Hogan #Nick Fury #Fanfiction #Captain America #Thor

[mythrilhusk]

Despite Everything - Chapter 4

NOT RPF (Ao3 Link) Words: 2,091 Last Chapter CW: violence

Feat. Relationship (only SFW): Niki/Puffy (Rainbow Arson)

Spirit Reference Key:  Niki Nihachu - Death  Captain Puffy - Fire  Jack - Light  Eret - Ice  Awesamdude - Dark  Foolish - Life 

On the eve of Puffy's birthday, Niki finds herself cuddled with her girlfriend on a beanbag sofa as Jack and Puffy's three other friends laugh and banter around her. She reaches for the cookies to dip in her chocolate milk. Puffy gulps down her own favorite drink, her ears already flushed red with tipsiness. 

Jack and Sam play a card game, taking shots every time they lose a round. The two other teammates Niki just met today, Foolish and Eret, dance around in the kitchen as they cook up dinner. 

Niki grabs a handful of popcorn and chews it thoughtfully. The others haven't pressured her to fight with them yet, but she's ready for the inevitable disappointment. She watches the card game, trying to keep her mind off of darker musings. 

Eret strides out into the living room, their bi-pride-flag cape swooshing behind them. "Dinner is ready, Captain." 

Captain Puffy grins and wobbles to her feet. "To the kitchen!" She crows. 

Jack groans good-naturedly. "Man, I was just about to win!" 

"No, you weren't." Sam retorts, shoving Jack's shoulder playfully. 

Niki follows Puffy to the kitchen, where Foolish has set up the dinner table with paper plates and plastic cups. "Thanks, Effy, my son." Puffy slurs her consonants slightly. 

Foolish smiles and waves a bashful hand. "No problem, Papa." 

Sam sits down beside Niki. She slouches in her seat uncomfortably as he smiles at her. He's been waffling for weeks between either unsubtly avoiding her and being overtly friendly. If she didn't already know that he's very monogamously in love with some other dude, she'd think he's crushing on her. But that can't be it, so Niki is confused in regards to his possible motives.

Eret serves everyone heaping piles of the noodles and stirfry. "Truly, a queen among humanity." Puffy giggles as she stuffs food in her mouth. 

Foolish laughs at Jack, who's formed a mustache out of his noodles. The banter is so normal, the scene so mundane, it brings an ache to Niki's heart. 

The heavy knock on the door shatters the illusion. 

Niki rises to answer, but the door swings open before she can peek out the peephole. "Why, hello." A gruff voice intones, two glittering eyes pinning Niki in place. "Mind if I come in?" 

"Who are you?" Niki crosses her arms, blocking the way of the shadow. 

"You may know me as Technoblade." The massive form ducks through the door and into the light, shedding the boiling shadows. Niki gasps and flinches back from the menacing figure. 

Technoblade adjusts the glasses resting on his muzzle, scratches his bristly neck, and widens his amused grin. Behind Niki, her friends have all stood up, tensing for battle. "Relax." Technoblade admonishes lightly, raising his claws. "I'm not here to kill any of you this time." 

"This time??" 

Technoblade laughs awkwardly. "Aha, don't let this scare you or anything, but I'm under oath to not harm any of you tonight." 

"What do you want??" Puffy snarls, yanking Niki behind herself protectively. 

"We would like you to join our anti-emperor coup d'etat as allies." His tusks glint as he bends his head to stare at them through his glasses. "Sam, you smell terrible." 

"Ha- what??" Sam clenches his fists. "Wanna say that again, big guy??" 

"Yeah, actually. You stink of guilt and lies." Technoblade shrugs. "Hey, that's none of my business though if y'all wanna associate with a traitor." 

"Out." Puffy growls, glaring up at Techno. "Get out." 

"Wait, wait, haha, I kinda have to secure this alliance. C'mon, Captain, what do you say?" 

"Fuck you." Puffy flips him off. "Leave." 

Technoblade shrugs. "K. Don't say I didn't warn you." He ducks out of the door again, once more shrouded in shadow.  

Puffy slams the door after him. "What the hell was that about?? How dare he come in here to, to try to tear us apart!" 

Niki steps back as Foolish and Jack join in Puffy's rage. She turns and meets Sam's eyes. He stares at her with broken desperation apparent in the welling tears. Eret offers Sam their hand. "You good, man?" 

Sam flinches. "I- I'm so sorry." 

The room goes unnaturally silent. Puffy breaks the quiet tension with a furious shriek, throwing up her arms and storming to the beanbag. She throws herself into the poof and muffles an angry scream. 

"What do you mean, Sam??" Foolish cries. "What are you sorry for, you've done nothing!! Right??" 

Sam drops his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I have prior loyalties that- I thought I wouldn't encounter him again, okay? I thought- I thought he was gone for good. But he's back. And I can't betray him again, or- or he'll kill all of you, and I can't let that happen!" 

Jack pats Sam's shoulder. "Hey, look, at least you had good motives." 

Niki leaves Jack and Eret to comfort Sam, and approaches Puffy, who kicks her feet on the floor, still making noises like a pissed off tea kettle. "Are you okay?" 

"No, I'm not okay!" Puffy snaps, going miserably limp in the poofy beanbag. "I can't even protect my own team." Tears well in her eyes. "I can't even protect my own fucking team!! Why the fuck did that goddamn bastard Technoblade notice before I did??" 

"I, I think he's still out on the balcony, Puffy." Niki hisses upon glancing out the window. 

"Damn him, of course he is." Puffy grumbles. "Please deal with him for me?" 

"Of course, babe." Niki impishly plants a kiss on Puffy's wrist, then leaps up. 

Upon opening the door, she scowls at the lurking Technoblade. "Fifty thousand a day." 

"Heh? That's a rather high price, what about-"

"This is not a negotiation." Niki smiles sweetly. "It's an ultimatum. We will be your allies in this coup if you pay each of us fifty thousand bullion credits a day." 

Technoblade huffs heavily. "Don't punt anyone, they said. Just barter, it'll be easy, they said... Damn Wilbur, he should've been here instead." 

"Take it or leave it." 

"Fine, I suppose that deal is okay, I guess." Technoblade grumbles. "We'll contact you when we want your assistance." 

"Deal." Niki slams the door closed on him once more.

Puffy giggles hysterically as Niki sits down beside her. "Niki, I can't believe you just extorted the Pax Triumvirs!" 

"Wait, what??" Niki shrieks furiously, leaping to her feet. "The what?? Didn't they beat up Sam??" 

"Yes, but- Niki, you good, babe?" 

Niki glares venomously at the window. "I am going to extort so much more when those bastards try to contact us again." 

Puffy guffaws. Niki glances back at her with a fond smile. In the kitchen, Foolish, Eret, and Jack try to comfort Sam with ideas on how to free him from whatever entity that's been threatening him. 

Nothing about this is normal, anymore. But Niki finds she doesn't mind so much. 

++++

Cloaked in the night, Badboyhalo trails Technoblade back to his base. The foolish Angel walks confidently, unaware of his stalker. Bad waits as Technoblade turns a corner. He sneaks around after waiting a moment. 

But Techno has disappeared. Bad huffs, annoyed that he has to use his meager strength to track the Angel. This was supposed to be a quick, easy mission. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness seep through him. 

Technoblade's form is a mere whisper tickling Bad's senses. Right behind him. Bad ducks; the blade of an axe whistles over his head. His daggers leap into his hands and he slashes for the Angel's arms. Feathers rustle, Bad's only warning before a heavy wing bowls him over. 

"Rude." Technoblade places a foot on Bad's chest, slowly increasing the pressure as Bad struggles to gasp for air. "Why are you followin' me?" 

"I, I was just, just passing throu-gck-!" Iron gravity wraps around his limbs, choking him. "Please-" Bad whimpers. 

"I asked a simple question." 

The pressure eases slightly, allowing Bad to gather his breath for an answer. "I- I just want to make sure they stay safe!" He cries. 

"Who? Nemesis?? They'll be fine. I ain't gonna kill them unless they try to cross us." 

"I know." Bad pleads. "I know, but the Lucid Spider is out and looking for revenge." 

Technoblade's eyes light up. He lifts his foot and yanks Bad to his feet. "The Lucid Spider, you say...?" 

"Yes! He's going to kill me if he finds me, but there's not time, I have to warn the Spirits." Bad brushes himself off. He glances up just in time to see Technoblade hiding a smirk. 

"Well, then. I've got some good news, then." 

"Oh? Really?" Bad perks up hopefully. 

Technoblade caresses the blade of his axe thoughtfully. "Good for me, that is. I'm not entirely sure how great it will work out for you, to be honest." 

"Oh-" Bad shrinks away. "Please don't?" 

"Alright. What'll I get if I let you go?" 

Bad thinks for a moment. He doesn't have riches, or anything really. "Uh, the satisfaction of doing the right thing?" 

"Heh." Technoblade laughs darkly. "I'm afraid that doesn't pay the bills. I can't have Quackity getting pissy cause I let a hostage go for having the moral high ground, now, can I..." He raises his axe. "You're comin' with me." 

Desperately, Bad kicks Technoblade in the gut. The Angel grabs his foot and twists, knocking Bad off balance. Bad shrieks as the axe slams down. It stops, hovering barely a centimeter away from the heartbeat pounding in Bad's throat. Technoblade scowls at Bad for a moment, then turns away and sheathes his axe. "Come on." 

Bad shrinks back, trembling with terrified adrenaline. He wants to go home. He wants to return to Skeppy and Antfrost, his team, his friends.

He starts to draw the shadows to himself in the vain hopes of sneaking away, but he's yanked into the air by gravitational forces beyond his control, then slammed down again. Technoblade doesn't even glance back at him, doesn't say anything, merely waits as Bad regains his breath and struggles to his feet. 

Badboyhalo looks over his shoulder at the nearest escape. Then he looks back at the Angel, who stretches his arms with a lazy yawn. He meekly follows his captor. 

++++

Antfrost and Skeppy search the bridges and alleys frantically for Bad. Skeppy gets increasingly more and more panicked as no traces are found. "What if Dream got him??" Skeppy cries. "That fucking bastard-" He bursts into tears. "Now Bad will never yell at me again!!" 

Antfrost growls low in his throat. He's grown accustomed to teammates dying, but the loss still aches. "We will find Dream and make him pay." 

"Ye-yeah!" Skeppy sobs. "I don't understand, how could Bad let himself be defeated??" 

Antfrost shakes his head. "The goddamn muffinhead shoulda taken us with him." 

"He didn't even tell us where he was going!!" Skeppy cries. "He could be literally anywhere!" 

"I will try to look." Antfrost kneels on the cold bridge and clasps his hands together. His eyes snap open, blazing golden as his cyan phylactery floats up from the silver chain around his neck. Beams of light flare and dance around his body. 

"Badboyhalo." He hums and Io hums with him. "I am Antfrost, Speaker for the Dead. I summon you. Badboyhalo!" 

Skeppy stares at Antfrost, never failing to be amazed every time the former Spirit of Death taps into his lingering power. Antfrost's white and gold outfit glistens with diamond dew, setting off the cyan accents of the sharp holographic wings fluttering behind him. 

"We can't find him." Punz murmurs through the invisible portal to Hel's gates. 

"He's not here," Fundy confirms. 

"We will search for him." Purpled promises. 

Tears bead in Antfrost's eyes. He struggles to close the portal and cut off his power. His dead friends give him spectral hugs, then retreat once more to whatever afterlives they've chosen. His eyes flicker closed as he collapses weakly to the ironwood planks. 

Skeppy wails as he picks up Antfrost. "Don't die!!" 

"I'm not dead, you idiot." Antfrost snaps with his remaining strength. "Just, just let me rest." 

Antfrost lets Skeppy carry him back to their team headquarters. Skeppy, dear Skeppy. Formerly Spirit of Life, until it was ripped from him. Badboyhalo, dear muffin, former Spirit of Dark, until he gave it up for Skeppy's life. Punz, Fundy, and Purpled were not so lucky. Antfrost senses his remaining reserves of magic. He's running too low. Just one more spell, and his own body could be torn apart by the forces that only the gods will ever truly understand. 

#captain puffy #niki nihachu #eret #awesamdude #foolishg #jack manifold #badboyhalo #antfrost #skeppy #technoblade #magical warriors au #dream smp au #dream smp #not rpf #rainbow arson #magical transformations #violence cw

[jinmindeulle]

crowned ∣ jwy (4)

anyone but you

word count: 2.7k

genre: royalty au, prince!wooyoung x dressmaker!reader ∣ angst, fluff

warnings: a lot of minor swearing

a/n: if you want to be in the tag list so that you don’t miss the updates, just comment down below and i’ll happily add you! ♥

bring your tissues once again :(

Three weeks go by, and I never come across Wooyoung. Not once.

The first two, I kept myself busy inside the sewing room, with both of the dresses that the Queen had requested, a tuxedo for the King, and the wedding suit for the love of my life, who happens to be marrying someone that is not me.

San kept me company most of the time, trying to lift the mood every time he saw sad eyes and frowns on my face, or sensed that I was about to cry as I got started with the wedding gowns. I tried not to think much of it, but it was clearly impossible.

When the time came for me to choose the wool and cashmere for Wooyoung’s suit, I had the breakdown I was expecting to happen ever since that day. I was lucky to have San with me at the fabric shop, keeping me away from the curious glances from the shopkeepers and making sure I was breathing normally again. At the end, he just bought the fabrics for me and held my hand until we reached the palace gates.

Having San by my side was a blessing. He never failed to make a smile appear on my face throughout the whole wedding suit process. He hugged me tight, squeezing the life out of me when I gave it the last stitch, and whispered in my ear that he was really proud of me.

So now, having finished those and with just a couple of simple dresses to create for some of the royal maids, I had more time available to wander around the palace by myself, trying to figure out my next move.

The breakdowns came to an end the day I stored away the wedding suit. I chose that moment to be the closure that I needed, letting the last tears flow down my cheeks.

But no more, y/n.

I reach the kitchen, offering myself to give some help after realizing that the maids are busier than ever, going in and out, running here and there, cutting, mixing and boiling what seemed like a hundred meals at the same time.

“Have any of you seen my son?” I turn around, and with wide eyes, I bow at the presence in front of me.

The Queen inside the kitchen was a rare sight to see.

The half dozen women behind me chant a ‘No, your Majesty’ that seems to have been meticulously rehearsed. “What about you, miss y/n? You’re a friend of his.” She smiles softly, painfully reminding me of Wooyoung’s tender smile.

“Uhm…” I gulp, taking my eyes off of her to stare at the wooden floor. “I… I’ve been busy in the sewing room so I haven’t seen him in a while” I mutter.

She sighs “I’ll go see if San has. Tonight’s the engagement party and I can’t find him anywhere. Well, if you happen to bump into him, please let him know I’m looking for him. Thank you, ladies.” And with that, she leaves.

Just when I thought that everything was getting better for my mental health.

“I’m… I’m heading back to my sewing room, girls. Just in case… you need me.”

“Go, y/n. It’s okay, we can handle the kitchen by ourselves.”

I simply nod without looking up, and slowly go back to my work place.

I enter, and with the same pace, I go to what are labelled as Wooyoung’s drawers. I open the third one, revealing a perfectly folded and ironed Prussian blue suit. Without second thoughts, I take it out and put it on my desk. Right after, I open his wardrobe doors, looking for a black turtle neck shirt. I neatly fold it and place it over the suit. With this, he won’t need me.

It takes me a while to find matching shoes and a belt, but once I have them with me, I take a look at the clock hanging on my wall. Five thirty-nine p.m. Just in time.

I quickly make my way out, going down the hall and taking the paths that lead me to my destination. When I reach that wooden door, I sigh heavily, and go inside.

I take in my surroundings, making sure that he’s not here before he’s supposed to. All clear.

Carefully laying the outfit on his bed, I run away from there without looking back.

It’s been two hours since I’ve started this book and I find myself unable to go further than page three. I read the sentences but I don’t understand their meaning, because in the enormous garden that is right by my chamber’s window, an engagement party is being carried out.

I should be there, actually. Every person that works for the crown was invited, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I asked San to inform that I was ill, and that I was not going to able to make it.

When it was time for San to go to the party, he kissed the back of my hand and urged me to wait for him, because he wanted to come by and check up on me before going to bed. I nodded as a response, and threw myself into the middle of my bed, flat on my stomach.

Luckily, my windows draw out the noise, so I am barely able to distinguish the fancy orchestra playing and the light chatter of the guests.

I take my eyes off of the sentence that I’ve been reading for the last ten minutes and I sigh, annoyed at me and my foolish heart for falling for a man that I knew since the beginning was untouchable.

I throw that stupid book away from me, sitting down against the head of my bed. Closing my eyes, I try to think of something that can keep me busy the three hours left that I need to stay awake.

As I’m about to head out of the room so I can quickly go to the kitchen for food, I hear the music stop, the voice of the Queen resonating everywhere.

“I am so happy to be gathered here. Tonight, one of the most special nights…”

My mind goes blank, and I just stay still. Right in front of me, through the damned window, I can see his face. His defeated, shattered expression making my heart rate immediately stop. His eyes are glued to the dinner table sitting in front of him, and I gasp, knowing what’s about to come.

You promised that you would never cry again for him, y/n.

Well, fuck it.

As if my body was in a sort of trance, I slowly make my way to the window, touching the cold hard material with one of my hands.

Right by his side, a gorgeous young lady engulfed in a silk white dress, is grinning like she’s won the lottery, listening attentively to what her future mother-in-law has to say. The truth is I can’t hear her seemingly deep and emotional message, because my mind can only take Wooyoung’s sorrowed face.

His eyes leave the banquet, taking a look around the garden, as if he’s searching for something (or rather, someone) in the crowd that surrounds him and his soon-to-be fiancé. Suddenly, his dark orbs go wide, and the light that they seemed to have lost makes its way back where it belongs.

Right, he’s caught me staring at him through my own window.

I quickly take five steps back, trying to disappear from his sight as soon as possible.

Shit.

Earth, swallow me, please.

I keep going backwards, so at one point I just bump into my bed and lay there, too astonished with my stupidity to move an inch.

San left.

After the engagement party came to an end, he showed up in my chamber. According to what he told me when I met him for breakfast the following morning, I was soundly asleep, all spread and hugging my favorite pillow. He didn’t know that I’d seen Wooyoung, but I thought that the best option was to stay quiet about it.

We chatted about my future plans and his intentions of helping me get over him in any way possible, even proposing the idea of staying with him from the time being. However, with the softest smile that I could master, I nicely rejected San’s offer. I had to take into consideration the fact that he still was Wooyoung’s best friend and in one way or the other, I would keep myself attached to him. He ended our conversation by adding that he had to go back to his land for some time, because, after all, he had work to do before the great day.

I hugged him as tightly as I could, wishing him the best and thanking him for everything that he had done, was doing and would keep on doing with the mere intention of just pulling me out of the hole.

So then, all by myself, I did not do much. When I felt like it, I went out of the palace with some of the maids and helped them get the enormous quantity of kitchen items, ingredients and decorations that they needed for that day. I took long walks along the lake at sundown, sometimes taking my book with me and reading a few paragraphs before my mind wandered somewhere else. Or rather, with someone else.

I finished the maid’s dresses within one week, so the only work that I had left was patching up the royal staff uniforms, with which I took my time, because I had a whole month left before resigning.

However, time flew by.

Without me even knowing, a month and a half went by with me and Wooyoung crossing paths not even once.

All of my stuff was already packed, waiting for San to come for it after the wedding. I didn’t want to give explanations to everyone in the palace, so I just threw the essentials inside a bag and hoped for them to be enough until San could pick up the rest for me.

 The morning of the wedding day, everyone was ecstatic. The busiest I had ever seen them, but ecstatic anyways. Maids running everywhere, wedding planners shouting and screaming instructions at anyone that crossed paths with them, guards making sure that no stranger entered the confinements of the palace, and the braid’s dressmakers going in and out of the lady’s chamber with cold sweat running down their faces.

I, nonetheless, had taken care of the gowns a whole week before the event. I took them with me to the King and Queen’s dressing room, smiling at their content expressions and bowing in gratitude.

⤷ A week ago

“I also wanted to bring you the Prince’s wedding suit.”

The Queen looked at me with a quizzical expression, giving away her dress to her lady-in-waiting for her to put it aside. “He actually requested you to be there and help him get ready. You know about his unwillingness to learn how to tie his ties.”

Right. Damn you, Wooyoung.

“Oh, yeah. Okay, then. I’ll just take it back with me. Good evening, your Majesties.” And with a last bow, I abandoned the room. “You just had to do that, right Jung Wooyoung? Fuck.” I mutter, going back to the sewing room.

Present time ⤶

I should’ve known that after what happened at the engagement party, even if it was as insignificant as staring into each other’s eyes for three seconds, getting away from him wouldn’t be that easy.

So now, pacing in front of Wooyoung’s chamber’s door, I tell myself that it isn’t a big deal.

Just go inside, give him the suit, tie his tie and leave. Easy.

Ha, right.

Taking at least five deep breaths, I shut my eyes tight and slowly knock on his door. I take a look at the suit in my hands, cursing the stupid tie that rests above it. I hate you so much, I want to yell at it.

But as I’m about to actually do it, the door flies open and a strong arm wraps around my wrist, shoving me inside of the room. The hatch is closed as fast as it was opened.

“Stop fucking avoiding me”

Oh? He dares to accuse me of avoiding him after having done the same? And he curses at me in the meantime?

I stare at him in disbelief, a shocked expression taking over my face. “Don’t pretend like you actually didn’t do it too.”

“Can we please talk?” his angry, accusatory tone suddenly changes for a more saddened, desperate one. “San told me you’re resigning.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about, Wooyoung. We have already said and done things that hurt each other, so I think that we are better off this way.” I quietly answer, giving him his outfit. “I’m here just so I can tie your tie for you.”

“Right.” He whispers, staring at the pieces of clothes that I placed in his arms. He keeps on rumbling, but his voice is so low and broken that I cannot make a word out. Without looking back, he goes behind his folding screen and starts changing into his wedding suit.

I feel tears picking my eyes and a lump on my throat slowly growing. You can do this, y/n. You just have to do one last thing and then you are free.

Free of what?

The discussion keeps going on my head, and I just let it be. I’ll never come to terms with myself if I don’t allow my mind to come up with nonsensical questions that hardly ever have an answer.

The quiet shuffle wakes me up from my daydream, and I know it’s time. I take the tie away from his hands, trying not to make physical contact whatsoever.

I breathe in and out while hanging the fabric of his neck, my eyes never leaving it. I take my time so that it can be perfectly done and no second tries are needed. I complete the knot by tightening it and drawing it up snugly to his collar, my hand lingering there for a few seconds before letting go.

“There you go” I mutter.

Just when I thought that I had made it, I make the mistake of my life.

My eyes land on his own, and damn it.

His dark orbs are nothing but glassy, defeated, hopeless. His cheeks are flooded with what seem like a million tears. His lips are trembling, threatening to let out a pained sob in any minute.

“I love you, y/n” his voice is soft, broken, pleading, shattering everything inside me. The sorrow and grief that had been raging in me for almost two months finally gets me, and I break down in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Woo.” I whimper, as I feel his hands take the sides of my face. “I’m so sorry”

He takes a step closer, no more space between our bodies. His eyes are fixed on mine, their visible pain affecting me ten times harder than expected. I let out a choppy sigh, and with it, more tears.

“I love you, y/n” he repeats. “And I’ll never love anyone but you.”

I want to answer him the exact same, but he never lets me.

His soft, plump lips make contact with mine and all I can bring myself to do is lean in closer. His touch is desperate, hot and heavy, like he’s trying to take in every single part of me. Wooyoung’s hands leave my face but quickly make their way towards my waist, tightening his grip around me to shove me even closer, as if that was possible. My arms go around his neck instinctively, letting him take control over my lips.

We slowly, unwillingly, break apart gasping for air. Our tears keep flooding, but small smiles are taking over our swollen lips.

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

I shake my head ‘no’, leaning in for the last kiss that we’d ever share together. This time, is me who takes control, bringing him closer with my hands on his soft wet cheeks. “I love you so much.” I mutter against his lips, quickly letting go of him and making my way out.

I dare to look back once more, just to find him breaking down all over again.

“I’m sorry, Wooyoung.”

And with that, I leave the love of my life’s chamber.

part five: whatever it takes →

Here’s the fourth part of crowned ��� I know this hurt even worse, but it’s getting better soon!

If you are reading this, thank you so much for being here, it means a lot to me ♥ Leave your comments, suggestions and ideas on the comments below!

Happy reading!

⇢ jinmindeulle

#ateez #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung imagines #ateez au #ateez series #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #royalty au #prince au #ateez fluff #ateez angst #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung au #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung x oc #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez jongho

[bastardbrujah]

There's a thud as his body hits and rolls against the concrete. As Leo tries to get back up, he can feel sharp pain running through his right leg. He prevents himself from looking back at it, it's probably bent the wrong way, but that wasn't important. What's important now is the man he's fighting, and how much it pisses him off that he's barely roughed up.

"Aw, c'mon darling," he can hear the man taunt as Leo struggles to stand. "I thought you were gonna 'make me pay'! How're you gonna do anything like that with minimal fighting skills?"

Leo grits his teeth as he keeps an iron grip on the knife in his hand. There's no way he was losing. Not ever. He was determined to rip his head off with sheer force after everything he put him through. The memories of everything that happened while they were together still feels so fresh, so painful, and every once of hurt he feels only fuels him, despite the fact that his body is breaking.

This man has barely sustained any injuries. The only major injury he has was from Leo's surprise attack in the form of a stab wound to his chest. He stands almost triumphantly as he chides Leo. He wasn't just any man. He was Luke, Leo's sire, and right now the two were at a make or break point.

"Y'know I've had fun with our little fight, but aren't you tired yet?" Luke asks with a smirk, and every single word stings. "I really would like to pack things up so we can be on our way out of this shithole."

His voice feels like venom. Every single word infuriates Leo. He's not going anywhere with Luke again. The year of captivity and abuse is the only thing Leo can think about outside of killing him. He's already frenzied only for his sire to continue using his skills with presence to bring Leo out of it. Leo can see Luke's shadow drawing closer, and before Leo can even get up, he's kicked over on his back. He bites his lip to try and avoid letting out any pained sound, but when Luke gets down to straddle his waist with an iron grip around his neck, he can't help but let out an agonized groan. 

He doesn't need to breathe, but the fact that he can't makes Leo claw at Luke's wrist. Luke only chuckles, "I knew you'd do this. You'd rush in on your own so determined to make sure you got to take me all to yourself. You didn't want that side piece to get in the way, now did you, babe?"

Leo can't speak. He continues to try and pry Luke's arm off of him. 

"Yknow, I gotta say, I had you all wrong. Most of my childes ended up Caitiff, but I picked 'em out that way," Luke continues. Leo felt disgusted; it's like he got off on listening to his own evil monologue. "They were far too timid, too docile and weak for my clan traits to stick, and I thought you'd be the same, but no… no, you surprised me. Later on, you ended up fighting me at every turn you got. You just didn't stay down. It became obvious that I had you pegged wrong within weeks. You were perfect for a Brujah."

Leo can't take this. Every word was like a punch to the gut. Leo scrambles to find the knife he dropped as Luke brings his face closer to his as he continues, "I don't know which part was hotter: watching you get fiesty and try to fight back, or putting you in your place afterwards."

Found it. As soon as he found the knife, Leo jabbed it into Luke's side. Luke's grip on Leo's neck loosened, his eyes widened as he realized he was stabbed again. Everything feels still for a moment before Luke's eyes drift to see the knife in his side through his jacket as he almost laments, "You bitch… I really liked this jacket and you just stuck a knife through it…"

There's a chill down Leo's spine. His usual tone was already disgusting and set Leo ablaze with rage. Now his voice was almost hollow, like Luke himself didn't expect this turn of events, but Leo knows what's hidden behind it.

Luke's head turns back to face Leo. The corner of his mouth twists up into a smirk as he pushes back Leo's bangs that stuck to his face from the blood. Luke brings his face a mere inches from Leo, and the next few words lets Leo know exactly what he's in for.

"You're going to wish you hadn't done that."

In a split second, Luke gets up to grab Leo by the hair, only to kick him and send him flying across the empty lot. Leo's not sure if he can even move any further, he knows he's lost a lot of blood, and his vision is blurred. The second he tries to move, however, Luke kicks him over onto his stomach, and Leo screams in pain when he digs his heel into his shoulder.

"Y'know what, I think this was my favorite part," Luke speaks in that condescending tone again, and Leo can feel the disgust in him grow. Luke leans down closer to Leo, putting the weight of his body on his shoulder as he continues, "The part where you would lose… You would quickly just start apologizing so I wouldn't kill you. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do it, don't hurt me'... how cute. You wanna start doing that again?" He chuckles. "I'm sure you want the pain to stop, don't you?"

Leo felt mortified. If he could bring himself to speak, he'd probably do exactly what Luke asked. He knew he'd made a mistake. He should've never tried to do this on his own, but what other choice did he have? After all he's dragged Majima through, everything that's happened with Nishiki, how could he have him help? Luke was here to collect him, take Leo back and resume whatever torture Luke would frame as a relationship… this was all because of Leo, and in order to fix it, in order to ensure he'd never hurt another person again, he'd kill Luke. 

Except now that seemed impossible. Leo's fingers bled as they dug into the pavement, trying to ball his hand into a fist, trying to get up, do something. Luke grabs Leo's hair to move his head against the ground, scraping his face as Luke speaks, "Well, darling? Are you done acting out for now? Ready to come back with me?"

Not that. Anything but that. Leo can only grit his teeth in frustration as he could barely move his arm. There wasn’t anything he could do to push Luke off or get free, and the gravity of the situation was sinking in. He was going to be taken by his sire, held captive by him, and he couldn’t even fight him anymore.

Next thing Leo heard was the loud clink of metal connecting with something.

Suddenly he no longer feels the weight of Luke’s body on top of him. What happened? Next thing he hears is Luke protesting, “The hell!? Get back!” only before another metallic clink is heard colliding with something. Someone else was definitely here, and they had a fight to pick with Luke. Confused, Leo struggles to flip his body over to look in the direction of the noise, but with his glasses missing since the beginning of the fight, all he can see is a blur. The noises gave away parts, Luke was obviously trying to use presence against his attacker, and his attacker just kept bludgeoning him unfazed. Leo squinted his eyes to try and make out something, anything, but all he could see was two bodies dressed in dark colors. Could that be…?

“Fuck-- stop it!” Luke tries to command, but it’s cut short by a baseball bat to his head. The clink of the bat connecting with his head is repeated over and over, like his assailant is determined to kill him by turning his head to mush. Which each hit, Luke lets out a series of pained groans and screams. All of a sudden, Leo sees the man discard the baseball bat, only to pull out a blade and jam it into Luke’s chest. Luke screams in agony, and Leo could’ve sworn he heard a cracking noise. Did he push the knife in so deep it hit the pavement?

Suddenly the attacker shifts his focus to Leo. He quickly walks over, and as soon as Leo sees the familiar leather pants and snakeskin shoes, his anxiety shifts. Leather gloved hands grab Leo to prop him up sitting, and then they move to hold his head so he can observe his injured and bloodied face. 

“Majima…”

“Why did you run off on your own to fight him like that? Huh!?” Majima’s sudden question throws Leo off guard. It’d make sense he’s upset. The two of them planned to do this together, Majima’s expertise in fighting and resilience against presence was key, but…

Leo can’t bring himself to look Majima in the eye. What was he supposed to say? He felt like he was running out of chances. Majima’s done so much for Leo, and this was another instance in which Leo’s burdens were placed on him. The past few months has strained Majima to where his lovable wild side was barely showing anymore, and Leo knew the origins of that stress resided with him.

“What else… am I supposed to do…” Leo tries to speak, but his throat feels like it’s on fire. “I’ve done enough to you… I’ve left you with enough… the least I can do is clean up my own mistakes…”

“Are you crazy!?” Majima shouts as he shakes Leo’s shoulders, only to stumble over his apology as he sees Leo wince in pain. “You… why do you think that?”

“Because you’ve changed!” Leo responds as tears of blood start to fall down his face. Majima looks alarmed at his sudden outburst, but Leo continues, “You’ve… you can be serious, but that’s all you ever are now. I’ve put a lot on you… and my sire is my own responsibility…”

Majima stares at Leo almost in disbelief before shaking his head and biting his lip. “Leo… I’m not going to deny that I’ve been wound up because of what’s happened to you, but I’m this way because I’m so worried about you, mad beyond all hell because sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, what anyone does, you get hurt! I’m angry because I didn’t put my foot down years ago against Nishikiyama and now we’re here with you bonded to him, and to top it all off, this jackass shows up determined to kidnap you! And I’ve got to be serious because I want to be prepared for anything that gets thrown at you.”

“But they’re after me--”

“And you’re my fiance,” Majima’s quick to cut him off. “Do you really have to ask why I would concern myself so heavily with those who are after you?”

Majima’s hands go back up to Leo’s injured face, his thumbs just gently avoiding the scrapes on his cheeks left by the concrete. Leo hasn’t felt warmth in years, yet there’s something about Majima’s touch that reminds him of it. There’s the usual feeling of guilt that Leo gets when in Majima’s hands, but Leo forces down the bonded emotions to focus on what he knows he feels despite the bond: safety.

“I’ll be damned if another man’s gonna hurt you again,” Majima continues. “You ain’t gotta shoulder this on your own. Let me help you get through this… and once I know you’re safe, I’ll loosen up, alright?”

“You don’t… I’m not upset with you because you’ve changed, I’m upset with myself--”

“And I’m saying you shouldn’t be. This isn’t because of you. You’re the victim here.”

It might take some time for him to accept that, but Leo doesn’t try to argue back as part of the first step for it. He only bites his lip and nods. With that, Majima lets out a sigh before speaking, “Listen. We can fix one problem still… we can still make sure you aren’t going to get hurt anymore by him.”

“Y-you won’t touch me,” a voice grunts out across the lot, and both Leo and Majima’s attention snaps to it just in time to see a knife thrown against the concrete. Luke’s barely standing with blood pouring out of his chest wound. His hair is matted with blood as it hangs in front of his face. 

Majima gently pulls away from Leo, as if a wrong movement would hurt him further, before standing off against Luke. “You really wanna try a round two, you sick fuck!?”

Luke quickly pulls out a tin container from his jacket pocket as he shouts, “You’ll stay the fuck away from me if you know what’s good for you!”

Majima eyes the little contraption in Luke’s hand. There’s no way he should have something like that. The last time he saw something like that was in his own house, shortly before Nishikiyama used it to start a fire in it. Majima stares Luke down, keeping his composure as he asks, “Where the hell did you get that?”

Luke’s face twists up as he chuckles, “Let’s just say I did my research after I learned another man was trying to move in on my childe… turns out he had some interesting secrets in that old warehouse, and they were just thrown out like that…”

‘Damnit, Thirty…!’ Leo can’t help but think to himself. Of course the idiot didn’t dispose of everything properly. Leo tries to get up, tries to at least stop his sire, but the moment he props his leg up, he feels the same shooting pain. He groans, but Majima remains unfazed. Majima tries to take a step forward, but Luke only stands his ground, “Stay back or I use it! There was quite a few of them around there… I got to learn how they work.”

Majima isn’t fazed. He keeps the same intense glare as he tries to figure out the best course of action. Luke, however, has already taken this as his victory, as he begins to walk backwards out of the empty lot. Majima eyes him as he makes his way out of the only exit of the gate of the empty lot, and the second Luke begins to turn on his heel to start running, he springs forward. With a boost of celerity, Majima quickly closes the distance between him and Luke, grabbing his jacket collar to yank him back, but Luke is also quick to turn back around and hold the contraption above them. While Majima grabs Luke’s free arm, Luke throws the contraption, causing a flame to rise up in between them, and with Majima pulling, Luke’s arm winds up directly in it.

Luke can’t help but scream in agony. In a last ditch effort, he starts running out of the lot while trying to remove the jacket. Majima stumbles back, the fire directly blocking off the exit. He’s quick to grab his phone to dial Nishida and tell him to start looking. There’s no way the fire didn’t hurt him, there’s no way Luke didn’t face massive damage, and Majima knew all that was left would be to find him quick and assure he reached final death. As soon as he finished relaying the news to his boys, he turned back to the real priority.

Leo looked distraught. He knew how badly he butchered his chance to get rid of his sire. Majima kneels down beside him, and only offers a few reassuring words, “He’s gravely injured. It’s only a matter of time before we find him. Naito’s not far, he’ll get the fire put out soon, just don’t stare at it.”

While Leo knows Majima is right, there’s something that looms over him. It’s nothing concrete, but it’s just a feeling. Luke has no room to wiggle out of the one, but there’s something in him that tells him he will. He doesn’t tell Majima that though. He instead reaffirms what Majima said, “We’ll finish it then. Soon."

#leoart #(here we go)

[realllllfangirllllll]

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 37

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Next }

Jaehyun’s pov

The feeling of my comfortable chair gave me a tiny ounce of relief. I let my body sink into the furniture as the slow jazz music played in the background of my study room. Although the music was relaxing, my mind was not. I ran my hand through my already messed up hair as I recalled the events that happened the past days.

The moment the projector screen lit up, I knew someone was set to sabotage the night. What I didn’t know was that they would stoop so low as to sneak into my company and expose my personal love life.

I quickly ushered the security to come forward in an attempt to bring down the video that never seemed to end. I hate to say this, but Jaemin was actually of help. Not only did he stop the projector from playing, but he even assured his father in as many ways as he can to prevent an argument. As the two of us tried to explain to the chairman, we were rudely interrupted by a wave of reporters. Suddenly, the speakers intruded our eardrums.

This is the true identity of the person you plan on working with. An office romance with an intern? How can someone be so unprofessional… I am hugely disappointed and so should you.

The distorted announcement kept ringing in my ears. My heart shattered when I scanned the ballroom, desperately searching for y/n, but to no avail did I find her. I panicked and rang the group chat in an attempt to find her whereabouts. I was worried sick at this point, not even bothering about the rowdy reporters and their flashing cameras. It was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. I pushed through the crowd and left the chairman to explain himself. 

This very action made it final that Starship will not be working with my company anymore, but the only thing on my mind was my girlfriend. I wasn’t going to leave her alone in this situation. I know her well enough to know that she will put all the blame on herself when in actuality, it was all my fault. 

My phone buzzed and I quickly checked the notification. The next thing I knew, I dropped my phone and ran to the women’s bathroom. As I ran past the many hallways and doors, my heart sank deeper and deeper. At that moment, it felt as if I was seven years old again, running to the hospital to find my mom. I remember running away from home when I witnessed my father’s affair, reaching my mom’s hospital room a little too late, and the letter she left me that caused me to cry in the middle of the hospital until my eyes burned.

On the letter, it read: If you get this letter, then it must mean you got in a fight with your father, my husband. Don’t be too mad at him sweetie, you’ve been a good boy and have done nothing wrong. I was simply too weak to provide your father any happiness so he did what any other person would do. Please forgive him, son. However, your father’s and my actions do not define who you are. You are special. You are not just any other person. Makeup with your father, but do not be like him. You are too pure-hearted for this world and so you must grow up to be strong and only love those you can trust. Never fall for those who want to benefit from you, but never lose those who make you feel at home. Home is where your heart lies. My dear son, follow your heart and everything else will follow. Love you always, Eomma~

At that very moment, I followed my heart. I ran like my life depended on it, because it did. I prayed to the gods that the love of my life was ok.

When I reached the ladies restroom, I found Soyeon with a tear-stained face, sitting against the wall. I was about to lose all sanity, thinking of the worst case scenario. Roughly, I gripped her shoulders, shaking her to snap her out of her sorrow daze. “What the fuck happened to y/n?!” I shouted louder than I wanted to, fear taking over me. I continuously shook her, trying to get an answer from her.

She slowly snapped out of her daze and turned to me, wiping her face, she softly answered, “S-she fainted. I didn’t know what to do...” She continued to explain with her eyes shaking in fear, “I kept tapping her but s-she wouldn’t respond. I-I called Mark over and he took her somewhere...”

I kneeled down in front of her, a wave of relief washed over me after hearing that Mark was taking care of her. I silently comforted Soyeon, getting ready to take her home from this chaotic mess I caused. 

As soon as I got home, I relentlessly tapped my phone. I contacted y/n and everyone that might know where she is. I need to know she was fine, but I received no response.

The next day, I turned on the tv to see news about y/n and me scattered all over the channels and on my tablet. I figured she’d seen them all by now, so I had to text her again to make sure she was ok.

I waited and waited for her response but nothing came. 

Finally, I ran to my phone when I heard it buzz, but the next thing I knew, my heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Jaehyun... I don’t think I can do this. It’s just too much... bye

I stared at the text she sent me. I know she’s only doing this as a habit of running away from her problems. I know. I know that it was exactly like how she ran away from me after developing feelings for me during our complicated relationship. I know it. I just know she still loves me and that's why I text her back, trying to set everything right. Trying to convince her to stay with me.

But she doesn’t reply.

I call her.

But her phone is turned off.

Rage took over me and I threw my already cracked phone across the living room, not even caring that it left a hole through the glass window.

The next few days, I spent my time locked up in the study. Neither did I slept nor did I talk to anyone, not even Johnny or Lucas. Occasionally, I would hear Soyeon pounding on my door, but I paid no attention. For the only thing on my mind was losing the love of my life.

It was all my fault. I dragged her into this lifestyle knowing she did not want the spotlight. I made her hide our love for the sake of my reputation. I was too caught up with loving her that I never realized how much I trapped her. It was nobody’s fault but me and my selfish tendencies. I was too greedy to ask for both success and love so now I’m face to face with its consequences. 

The vinyl record stopped playing and I was brought back to the present. I walked forward to change the record, a familiar R&B song played and immediately, I was thinking of her again.

This was the song that played whenever I was with y/n. I recall the morning after sleeping with her. This time, I was sober enough to feel every part of her. The song was playing in the background while she fell asleep on my chest. I would chuckle at how she acted so tough but ended back up in my bedroom. Her soft breathing would send shivers down my body. Back then, I thought it was only lust I felt. However, even then, I felt a warmth surround me every time we slept together. Her very presence made me feel at peace, whether we were making out or endlessly bickering. I loved every moment I spent with her, even when we were only sleeping buddies.

After our childish tickling battle and yet another intense session of fucking, I softly played this song in the bedroom as y/n hogged all my blankets on the bed. Her soft breathing and the sound of the music meshed perfectly into a serene tune. I remember laughing to myself. Never would I have thought anyone would know about me being ticklish nor thought I would do such childish things and laugh so hard from it. She made me feel like a kid that day, a kid that said “lotion” instead of “sorry.” That day, I only cared about having fun and not having to worry about why my father did what he did nor about my company struggling because of a spoiled brat. I felt like I was truly myself when I’m with her.

This song also filled the bookstore while I read her my favorite quotes from Pride & Prejudice. That wasn’t a mere coincidence, however. I did purposely tell the cashier to play the record when I saw it in midst of the endless boxes of vinyl. That was one of the first time I shared an innocent kiss with her. Ironic that the innocent kiss came after all the endless nights of lust. Nevertheless, my heart felt something that day. It was as if it was doing flips over and over again. Maybe it was because she initiated the soft kiss first, or maybe it was because she called me cute afterward. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had already started to fall in love with her.

Again, the song played in the background of my living room as I lulled her to sleep. I remember smiling to myself as I stared at her puffy eyes, having cried from watching The Notebook and was then clinging onto me while falling asleep. It was the very first time she truly believed that love in fiction could exist. She believed in it so much that she cried. It made me realize just how much our existence changed each other. I was the hopeless romantic who read romance to never forget how love can make up for so much. On the other hand, she was the atheist who read romance novels to see how love was just “fiction.” Although we both shared the same tough act toward others, we gradually changed. We became our real selves when we were together. We were each others’ safe haven. We weren’t just in a relationship, we formed a home.

Tears rolled down my eyes as I thought of our shared memories. She was my home. My heart only beats for her, and only her. 

My mom’s words suddenly filled my mind:  Never lose those who make you feel at home. Home is where your heart lies.

I wiped the tears off my face. That was it. I loved her too much. My world revolves around her and I am not going to lose her. It’s time for me to man up and show her that our love can overpower all hatred.

I rushed out of my study and left my house. I knocked wildly on Soyeon’s door. The moment the door flung open, I said with all seriousness, “I know what I need to do now, and I need your help again.”

———

• I was so stressed as I wrote this ashdkdhdkj •

• Stream BOOM 💥 •

• Omgg also I love The Rose sm so imma have to promote my bbys •

• Stream RED by The Rose 🌹 •

#nct #nct 127 #kpop social media au #wayv #nct dream #nct texts #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct jaehyun #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 texts #nct social media au #nct 127 jaehyun #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun social media au #jaehyun texts #jaehyun nct #jung yoonoh #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun timestamps #more than friends

[joannalannister]

Anonymous asked:

Hey! It’s me again, your GOT secret Santa. Could you please elaborate on what aspects of the Tywin/Joanna ship you like? They’re not a ship I’ve ever written for, so I’d appreciate it if you could tell me why you like them so much. Anyways, I hope things are going great with you and that you’re getting ready for the holidays 😊

I love Tywin and Joanna because this ship is ASOIAF in its simplest form, stripped down to the bare bones, the meaning made plain. 

In my opinion, ASOIAF is different from a lot of other fantasy I’ve read because it doesn’t focus on a magic system, and it doesn’t focus on a great war (we still barely even know anything about the Others). 

ASOIAF is different; ASOIAF is about what makes us human. (Even GRRM’s term for the enemy, Other, comes back to this central theme of our humanity, because it suggests that humanity is fighting against something other than human beings, something un-human, something inhumane.) 

Tywin is one of the most un-human human beings in the entire series. He’s also the villain that we get the most information about, and he still looms large over the text even in death. (Even in the brief glimpses of TWOW that he’s shared, GRRM keeps bringing him up.) GRRM has shown us all of these monstrous things about Tywin, but in doing so, he’s made the tiny glowing embers of Tywin’s humanity burn like the beacons of Minas Tirith. 

It’s our joy and our love and our laughter that make us human. It’s our sorrow and our pain. But more than all that, our humanity is the connections we make to other people. It’s shared joy, shared love, shared laughter. Shared sorrow. Our compassion. To build a society is to connect people, to share with others. Tywin and Joanna is a society of two. 

(That weirwood net of shared consciousness fascinates me - it’s an idea GRRM has written about before in his other works, and he keeps coming back to it.)  

So those handful of smiles: for his wife, for the birth of his (first two) children, for his greatest accomplishments (gruesome as they are). 

And the pain in this passage: “when Aerys II announced Ser Jaime's appointment from the Iron Throne, his lordship went to one knee and thanked the king for the great honor shown to his house. Then, pleading illness, Lord Tywin asked the king's leave to retire as Hand.” 

And the utter and absolute pain in this one: “With her death, Grand Maester Pycelle observes, the joy went out of Tywin Lannister, yet still he persisted in his duty.” 

It’s like a shot glass filled with sorrow. In AGOT through ADWD, the sorrow in those books is slow; it’s (mostly) meant to be sipped, and savored. But the way we experience Tywin’s pain, as GRRM writes it, it’s quick and it burns, and it burns out just as quickly as we move on to Tywin’s next atrocity. 

So, for me at least, Tywin and Joanna are like a distilled version of ASOIAF. It’s the moments we share that make us human, and when Joanna died, Tywin’s humanity died with her. 

That might not be the most helpful thing for writing a fanfic, so let me give you some other reasons:

My favorite short story is “The Last Rung on the Ladder”. I think I first read it ~20 years ago, and it still haunts me. It hurts. It’s about a brother and sister. It’s about taking things for granted, about the people we depend on, and about what happens when those people are no longer there. 

“You're my big brother. I knew you'd take care of me.” “Oh, Kitty, you don't know how close it was.” [...] “No,” she said. “But I knew you were [...] there.”

Maybe this applies to Jaime and Cersei too, and Tywin/Joanna are just a different iteration, but it’s what keeps me coming back: what happens when the people you depend on ... the people you think are always going to be there ... what happens when those people -- those lifelines -- are gone? 

Despite Tywin being (imo) a very social person, I think Tywin had very few real friends. In addition to being his wife, Joanna was Tywin’s friend, someone he could talk to, and confide in, and trust. Someone who made it all real. Someone who made it worth it. 

And I think Tywin thought Joanna would always be there, the same way that everyone in AGOT-ASOS thought Tywin would always be there, “eternal as Casterly Rock”. I think Tywin always imagined that Joanna would outlive him, like it never occurred to him that she would die first, but instead she died when he was in his early 30s. That’s life-shattering to have the rug pulled out from under you like that.  

Similarly, I think Joanna had this idea that she and Tywin would be together, but instead he was “often away”. We’re told that they were children together at Casterly Rock, but then at ~10 Tywin was sent away to be Aegon V’s cupbearer, and later he went away to war on the Stepstones, and then after her wedding Joanna had to be sent away because of Aerys, and we have Tywin sent to Lys at some point. What did it mean to her, that Tywin wasn’t there? For Joanna, I don’t necessarily think that Tywin not being there was entirely a bad thing, at least eventually, although I imagine it was painful at first. I think these forced separations from Tywin allowed her to grow, allowed her to eventually rule the Westerlands in Tywin’s name while he was away. 

The thing that I always think of when I think about Tywin and Joanna is this poem, “Mrs. Beast” by Carol Ann Duffy, and I always think of this line, “Bring me the Beast for the night. Bring me the wine-cellar key. Let the less-loving one be me.” The more loving one is Tywin in my mind, no doubt about it. (I played with this poem for Tywin/Joanna here.) 

There’s this scene I imagine in my own fanfiction, about a year before Joanna’s death, where there’s these silent tears, this despair on Joanna’s face, and Jaime asks his mother why she’s crying, and she says, “Because your lord father is home.” 

I think Joanna always loved Tywin, to the very end, but Tywin is a difficult person to live with. I think his homecomings eventually became bittersweet. On the one hand, the love of her life has come home to her across hundreds of miles through snow, through bandits etc, but on the other hand, whenever Tywin comes home, Joanna has to take a back seat. Tywin sucks all of the oxygen out of the room. Everyone has to take a back seat to Tywin: “It has been hard for Kevan, living all his life in Tywin's shadow. It was hard for all my brothers. That shadow Tywin cast was long and black, and each of them had to struggle to find a little sun.“

This is all kind of leading into another reason I like Tywin/Joanna in that it’s an exploration of gender roles, and the ... the limits that women are under in Westeros, even under the very best circumstances. With Joanna, she’s white, she’s filthy rich, she’s a top-tier noblewoman, she’s beautiful. Contrasted against Rhaella, Joanna has a husband who loves her so much that we get lines about Joanna ruling Tywin and how this man who never ever smiles smiled for her. But there are still limits. We’re told that Tywin was ruled at home by his lady wife. Joanna’s influence is restricted, it’s dependent on what power Tywin gives her. While Rhaella physically was confined to Maegor’s Holdfast, Joanna’s influence is confined to the domestic sphere. 

Westeros is a broken place, one that’s always been broken into little pieces (Seven Kingdoms, not one). Westeros breaks people. Like Mrs. Beast in the poem, I think Joanna was able to forget, for a time, about the world’s abused women. She was able to forget that Westeros breaks people, and that it especially breaks women. I think Joanna thought she was the exception, that she would have more, achieve more, do more ... and eventually I think she hits a wall, realizing that Tywin is her limiting factor, even as he lifts her up and grants her the power to do. 

It’s these limits that fascinate me about House Lannister as a whole. Like, the Lannisters are introduced to us as infinite. (Thinkin about this a lot lately.) Bottomless wealth, eternal life, unfathomable beauty, all I do is win win win. But over the course of the books GRRM knocks all of this down and shows us that there is a finite quality to House Lannister. Tywin dies. With Jaime, I think GRRM is exploring the limits of redemption imo. Cersei is going to hit a wall. It’s that the culture of House Lannister, their fundamental values -- they don’t work. 

Tywin is the poster boy of Westeros - he is the feudal system, he’s the face of its misogyny, he’s the walking embodiment of classism and income inequality and privilege and everything horrible about Westeros. 

I don’t think it was ever possible for Joanna to be dealt a winning hand with Tywin, The system is rigged against women, and a woman would have to break the system entirely to win. But Tywin is the system, so it just doesn’t work. 

I think of Joanna as a tragedy. 

um.

idunno if any of that is helpful, but i sure wrote a lot. Also, I really like power couples and courtly intrigue and stuff like the Borgias. Hopefully that helps a little bit, I’m so sorry. 

If you want to read other stuff I wrote, I collect my Tywin x Joanna writings under this tag:

#tjmeta

And these tags might also be useful: #joanna meta and #tywin meta

I’m so sorry, please know that I will absolutely love whatever you write! There are so few fics of Tywin/Joanna that I am excited for anything. 

(Also I hate Aerys and he can go fuck himself. I think that Tywin tried to see Joanna as a person, as much as a man in such a deeply misogynistic society can see a woman as a person. I think Aerys saw Joanna as a battlefield. Also I really hate the theory that Tyrion is Aerys’s. Really hate that.)

Ok, im sorry, ILU SANTA! I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING BEING DONE WITH YOUR FINALS AND HAVING A BREAK!!! 

#tywin lannister #joanna lannister #tywin x joanna #joanna meta #tywin meta #tjmeta #lannister thoughts #secret santa #secret santa 2019 #got secret santa #the meaning of asoiaf

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Dark Webs (Dark! Peter Parker x Reader) - Chapter Three

Warnings:  Topics of death, PTSD and depression,  substance abuse, angst, violence (this chapter does get a little graphic for those sensitive to gore and violence) ignoring some of the MCU timeline/AU

Word Count: 5562 (A bit longer - but I promise, it’s worth it!)

Summary: Still not giving up on Peter, you continue to try and find a way to get him back. Only to find out that Peter has other plans for you...

A/N: Thank you all so much for giving me your feedback on this series! Please continue to send me your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist, please Inbox me or reply to the post! Love you all!!

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

“Look at what we got here! Peter’s lightsaber collection,” you teased him, panning his camera towards his shelves, “Jeez, Parker. I thought you were dorky, but didn’t think this much. You even have them alphabetized,” you let out a giggle, panning over each and every one slowly before Peter grabbed the camera away from you.

He pointed it towards you, extending his favorite lightsaber at you, “If you mock the Jedi, you must fight the Jedi!” Peter exclaims as he lights it up to show off for you.

“Yup, you just got dorkier,” you tell him with a laugh. You grabbed the the red one with a maniacal look, “The First Order will seize you now…” you told him as you lit your saber up to match his.

“No!” Peter shouts for dramatic effect, slamming his lightsaber up against yours. He let out a roar of laughter, his camera falling to the bed as he begins to get into his reenactment, “You’re dead, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes as you fall on your back on his mattress, your lightsaber pressed up against his as he hovered over you, “Not today, Parker!” you shout back. But before he’s able to finish you off, you slide his plastic lightsaber into his own chest.

“Ugh!” Peter shouted out, pretending to die. He collapsed on top of you, making you laugh as he gurgled,  “You killed me, you killed me!” He groaned as his hands went to his chest.

Peter turned his lightsaber off, sliding it into his belt loop with a confident look, “The force is strong with me. Don’t you ever forget it, Y/N,” Peter told you as he stuck his tongue out at you playfully.

You finally open your eyes, coming back to life as you sit up on your elbows, “You could never kill anyone, even if you wanted to,” you said to him, turning your lightsaber off and tossing it over to him.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Peter asked, giving you a look as he placed the lightsabers back in the organized order he had them in originally.

“I would say so. You don’t have a murderous bone in that spider-infected body of yours,” you joke, grabbing his camera and pointing it directly at him, “Am I wrong?” you tested him, zooming in on his face.

Peter inhaled, thinking about his response before he leaned forward closer to you. His face close to yours as he looked directly in your eyes instead of looking into the camera.

“Y/N, I’d never hurt anyone unless I really had to,” Peter said with seriousness in his eyes. You knew he was telling the truth right then and there and that he was certainly one of the good guys.

“Well the best part about having Spider-

“-Hey, you’ve been here a while, you okay?” Harry asked, poking his head into his office where you were sitting at his desk, trying to work on your next piece.

Startled at the sudden interruption, you slammed your laptop shut, wiping a tear away from your cheek as you tried to pretend that that video you watched wasn’t real.

“Uh, yeah. Just got a little side tracked, I think,” you told him, still feeling uneasy from the events that occurred last night, “I think I need to just finish this in the morning,” you finally decided.

Harry shuffled over, leaning his chin on your shoulder as he kissed below your ear, “Maybe you should call out from work tomorrow,” he suggested.

“I can’t, I have a deadline,” you let out a sigh, thinking about the article that needed to get done.

Late the other night when you were with Peter, some of the tech that Peter had stolen and given to Kingpin a few weeks ago was used in a local robbery from a hospital, stealing high tech medical supplies. Now you were convinced whoever was buying the tech from Kingpin was using it for further gain. This went far beyond Stark Technology and Peter.

“I may stop by the hospital and see if I can get behind the police tape too. You used to work for that hospital right?” You asked Harry, remembering he worked in the science labs there while working under his father before his passing, “Do you think maybe you could get me in there?”

“Y/N, stop!” Harry told you. He swiveled your chair around to look at you. Putting your face in between his palms, his crisp green eyes stared back at you with worry and fear, “You just came back with bruises up and down your arm and I didn’t ask what that was about. But now you want to go back out there? For what? For Spider-Man? To prove that none of this is your beloved Spider-Man? You’re going to get yourself killed, Y/N!” Harry said, trying to knock some sense into you.

“What has Spider-Man done for you in the last few months, Y/N? Come on,” Harry said a bit more aggressively.

You were silent. You wanted to be angry with him, but how could you be? Spider-Man had been missing since Tony Stark died. The remaining Avengers were doing their parts in all areas of the world, and New York was in utter chaos. In a time when the city needed Spider-Man the most, he ran away from his responsibility. And nothing that you were doing was helping.

Harry may not have been the biggest fan of Spider-Man, but many people weren’t. Especially now. And sadly, you were beginning to become one of those people.

“I know you’re trying, you want to bring Spider-Man back but,” Harry stopped, licking his lips in frustration, trying to form the words, “I don’t think he is coming back, Y/N. He’s...the one doing all of this, don’t you see?” He finally spoke the words that made you cringe.

“It’s not Spider-Man, it’s…” You trail off as tears form in your eyes as Harry continued to hold you still, swallowing the large pill stuck in your throat, “It’s just not him. I know for a fact that this isn’t Spider-Man. You have to trust me, Harry,” you told him as you felt your voice grow weaker.

Harry nodded, swiping a tear with his thumb, “I do trust you. But you have to trust me. You need a break from this,” He told you. The edges of his mouth curving to form a smile.

You knew Harry was just trying to protect you, but you couldn’t help but be annoyed at how nonchalant he was about all of this. This was your job, your career that you had chosen. Working for The Daily Bugle wasn’t exactly your dream publication, but it was a start. And you were getting really good at your job. Why couldn’t he see that?

But arguing with Harry wasn’t going to get you anywhere. If anything, it would just make him think your agitation just meant you needed even more time off. Which you didn’t, you were just agitated because Peter was making your job a living hell.

“I think I’m going to work from here tomorrow, and get this done,” You finally told him, trying your best to hide your irritation as he pulled his hands away from your face, “I’ll call the hospital in the morning to get some quotes, and then stop by my place and pick up some of my things?” You tell him, trying to ease his mind a bit, even though you were still annoyed.

You wanted to stop by your place anyway. You were running out of fresh clothes at Harry’s, and in addition, you knew you needed to get some of your notes about Peter’s plans in a safe place before Harry came snooping around. It was only a matter of time.

“How about I take you to dinner tomorrow night at that new lounge in the village?” Harry asks, pressing a gently kiss to your lips as he stands up and grabs one of his folders of paperwork from his desk.

You blink slowly, unable to process right away. You had so much going on right now, a date night was on the lowest portion of your to-do list, “Yeah. Sounds..uh, great,” You told him with a forced smile. He didn't seem to notice though.

Harry shut the door behind you, to leave you with your work again. You opened up the laptop, forgetting to X out of the video you were watching earlier. It started replaying again, and your thoughts went back to exactly how you were feeling earlier.

------

Peter tossed the bag of goods on the table. Pulling out the contents of the bag, one by one. The blasters, an older Chitauri gun, and last but certainly not least, Iron Spider. He was absolutely ready to part ways with that thing.

“This is the most powerful batch I’ve brought you so far,” Peter told Kingpin, putting a blaster on his hand and shooting it across the room, burning a hole into the wall in the blink of an eye.

Kingpin looked at the suit with a smirk, noticing it still in perfect condition, “That couldn’t have been easy to get,” He remarked, holding the suit in his hand to examine it.

“Nope. And the next heist I’m doing is going to be worse, so I’m gonna need an advance,” Peter answered back, folding his arms in front of his chest. He looked around the room, it was just him and Kingpin, surprisingly.

“Do you have any idea what this suit can do?” Kingpin asked, but it was more of him telling Peter. He looked down at it in awe, looking at the iron mask that came with it.

Of course Peter knew, he thought to himself. He wore it. He was in that thing when he died, and came back to life. He defeated Thanos in that stupid suit. He even witnessed Tony Stark, the man who made the suit for him, die while he was wearing it.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Peter answered bluntly. He looked unamused when Kingpin shot him a menancing glare, “Anyway, I’ll take my money when you’re done fucking that stupid suit with your eyes,” He told him flatly.

Kingpin glared furiously at him, shocked that he was talking to him in such a manor, “I’ll give you 150k for the suit, 25k for the rest of it. I’ll give you 5k in advance if you can get the product here in three days,” He told him, staring down at the suit.

“Whatever, not the first time you fucked me over,” Peter scoffed at him. Money was money and he just wanted to get rid of the suit, “Whose buying this trash anyway?” He finally asked.

“New guy,” Kingpin answered, handing the suit over to his subordinate to put it in storage until it was sold, “Never met him, he just wires the money and we drop it off at his shipping station on the loading docks,” He answers Peter flatly, without even looking him in the eye.

Peter wrinkled his nose as his other peers walk over with his money waiting for him. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, he just wanted his money, maybe a drink, and to go home. Typically, he’d ask what this new guy was doing with it, but honestly, who cares. It’s not like Peter was doing any better when he was Spider-Man.

He grabbed the briefcase, tucking it under his arm. He didn’t thank Kingpin because, why would he? All Peter wanted was his money and to get the hell out of this shithole.

“That damn reporter!” Someone shouted, barging into the basement. It startled Peter, making him jump as he and Kingpin saw the guy running towards them holding a copy of The Daily Bugle, “She’s saying the hospital and Stark are connected,” He screamed, slamming a copy of the paper onto the table.

Peter looked and saw your name on the byline. Tensing his jaw, he folded his arms as he took a step back, “Well, they are,” He answered wisely.

“Shut up,” Kingpin lashed out at him, staring down at the paper as he read the first few paragraphs of the article on the cover of the paper.

New York Medical Center has fallen as the most recent victim in the recent burglaries that have been taking place across the city. The hospital’s laboratory was targeted, having over $3 million in supplies stolen. Supplies including radiation injections, several DNA kits, and other drugs such as oxycodone were taken from the lab.

Police have yet to comment on whether or not this robbery is linked with the recent ones that had taken place over at Stark Tower, but a recent matchbook from “The Devil’s Pin” bar was discovered at the hospital. Possibly making these two in fact, a connection to a possible mob heist.

“Who’s the fucking moron who dropped the matchbook in the hospital, huh?” Kingpin shouted, flinging the newspaper across the room with fury. He looked over at the two men who participated in the heist, staring at each other with terror.

He walked around as more people filled the room. Peter inhaled sharply, just wanting to get the hell out of here, “Can I go the fuck home? I wasn’t even a part of this hospital shit,” he told the group.

“Weren’t you the one we asked to take care of her to begin with?” Kingpin asked, walking closer to Peter with his cane in hand, “You call this taking care of her?” He asked.

Kingpin raised his cane over his head and brought it down hard onto Peter’s back, causing Peter to hit the floor instantly. He cussed as the pain stung throughout his body, trying to get back up slowly.

“I ought to kill you right now for getting us into this mess,” Kingpin said, pointing his cane directly underneath Peter’s chin.

Peter sat up a little more, his healing powers coming in stronger than he had thought as he felt himself get some of his strength back.

He wasn’t afraid of Kingpin. He wasn’t even afraid of dying at this point. He could take Kingpin and all of these guys out right now in a matter of seconds if he wanted to.

He just didn’t want to.

“If you want to kill me, then do it,” Peter groaned out, standing back up on his feet, “But you need me. I’m the only one who can get in Stark Tower without setting off alarms and get you your product. So if you want to kill me, kill me. But let’s be honest Fisk, I’m the best you got,” he spat at him.

Kingpin looked at Peter with thoughts running through his head. He looked back down at his cane, and then back again at Peter.

“Yes, I suppose you are a good resource. And it would be a shame to waste you,” Kingpin answered, his back towards Peter as he walked towards the group, “So let’s call this next task a punishment to clean up this mess you started,” He said, pointing towards two of the other guys that Peter knew were involved in the hospital robbery.

Kingpin handed the blasters Peter had stolen for him over to the two guys, pivoting back towards Peter, “Since you three screwed up, you three fix it,” he answered, taking Peter’s briefcase off of the floor, “Get rid of her, for good this time,” he said as he walked away, slamming the basement door shut on the three of them.

------

You look at the time on your phone and realize it’s already 6 PM. You promised Harry you’d meet him at the lounge for dinner by 7, which only gave you about an hour to head back to your apartment to grab some of your things.

Barging through your front door, you almost let out a sigh of relief. You hadn’t been home in about two weeks, and sometimes with Harry, it felt a bit suffocating. You missed having your apartment to yourself. It was much smaller in comparison to Harry’s penthouse, but, it was yours.

You grabbed some fresh clothes, stuffing them into your bag as you selected your favorite cocktail dress to change into before you went to meet up with Harry for your date along with a matching pair of heels. Maybe Harry was right, and a night out would be a decent enough distraction. At least for one night.

Taking your notebook with all of Peter’s blueprints and secrets in it, you figured you had enough notes at this point where you didn’t need it right now. You went in between your floorboards where you kept a bunch of things that confirmed your connection with Peter. Evidence, if you will.

Lifting the floorboards up, you stuck the notebook beside your favorite framed photograph of you and Peter. It was one of you both when you went to Coney Island on a school trip. You remembered you and Peter laughing as Ned got sick on Cyclone and MJ refused to go on any of the rides. But she took that photo of you and Peter. You brushed your thumb against the frame, letting all of the memories flood back to you. You turned your head away from it as you slid the floorboard back into place.

After changing into your cocktail dress, you heard your phone ring from the other room. It was probably Harry wondering if you caught the subway you told him you were going to take to meet him. He was already assuming you’d be late, you figured.

Glancing down at your phone, you didn't recognize the number. But Source had told you that he wouldn’t be contacting you for a while. No way this was him?

“Hello?” You answered the phone, continuing to pack your belongings in your bag. Your heels were beginning to make it a little more difficult to walk around, so you moved slowly around the apartment, making sure you had everything you wanted before you went back to Harry’s.

“Get out of there. Now,” The deep, dark voice said on the other line, “We got an alert that they are on their way to you, and they aren’t happy,” They said.

And then they hung up. That’s all you had was a short warning before there was a banging at the door. It was already too late. You run towards your drawer where you kept your stronger taser gun, and grabbed it.

You heard the door beginning to rattle, and there was no time left to leave. The only thing you could do was hide. But these guys were professionals, and just hiding in a closet was going to be the first place they would check.

Your apartment was a tiny one bedroom, and the hiding options were very limited. In the pinch you were in, you opted towards the fire escape. Crawling as close to the edge, and away from the window as possible.Your taser clutched in your hand as tightly as humanly possibly.

Placing your hand over your mouth, you turned your taser on when you heard the voices enter your apartment. They shined a flashlight into the living room and you could see the light being cast against the fire escape.

“Not in here,” one man with a deep voice said. You heard them stomping around with their boots as they made their way from room to room, “Do we even know if she lives here right now?”

“I don’t think she’s here,” someone said, a voice that you recognized.

Peter’s voice.

Your eyes grew as you heard his voice. Sounding so matter-of-fact as the flashlights scurried throughout your apartment. He came to kill you, that’s why Source was warning you to run.

Peter walked around your apartment, looking at the things that you had left around your place. No photographs, which seemed so unlike you. He remembered your old room, how you had Polaroid pictures of him, MJ, Ned, even Flash covering your wall. He remembered all the decals of quotes about friendship you had under each and every picture. He even remembered the particular quote you had underneath a photo of the two of you.

You were the one who got him into photography in the first place so it didn’t feel like you without photographs of you and your friends and your family. But Peter changed a lot, so he wouldn’t be surprised at all if you did as well.

“What makes you think that, Delaney?” the other one asked Peter, stepping into the bedroom. He pointed at the closet, noticing the clothes have been rummaged through.

“I think he’s trying to get out of this again, what’s up with you and this reporter?” the opposing one said, pointing at Peter. He gave him a shove against his chest, “Do you know her?!”

Peter wasn’t going to take anything from these two morons and shoved him right back, forgetting how strong he actually was and pushed him into the kitchen table, “No, I don’t fucking know her. I just don’t think she’s here,” he answered back.

The blonde guy didn’t like Peter’s aggression and wrapped Peter in a chokehold, pulling him backward to knock him off balance, “You know something we don’t there, Tony?” He asked him in a calm voice.

You grabbed your taser and unlocked it. Staying as quiet as you possibly could, you saw a good shot of the bigger guy who Peter knocked over still trying to get himself back up. While Peter and the blonde guy were squabbling you took a deep breath before pulling the trigger.

Aiming directly at him, you hoped that you were in a good enough range that it would attach to him. You squeezed the trigger gently, setting it off as the electric  current ran a wire, clipping onto his neck.

You let out a sigh of relief as you unclipped the wire, watching him jolt and yell as he fell back onto the floor. The blonde guy threw Peter down, his eyes now on you as you stood still on the fire escape.

“And you said she wasn’t home,” he said as he smiled in your direction. He pulled the blaster out of his belt, and slid it onto his wrist, never taking his eyes off of you.

Recharging your taser, you tried to shoot at him, but he wasn’t close enough. Instead, it landed on the ground, right in front of Peter’s feet. You swallowed thickly, feeling a large lump forming in your throat.

I will not die today, you said to yourself as he took a step towards you with the blaster in his hand.

You looked over at Peter, dead in the eyes as he looked at the blonde guy walking towards you. He saw the look in your eyes, begging for him to help you. Begging for some sort of assistance. To become Spider-Man again and help you.

“I guess you’re not here looking for me to autograph your newspaper,” you told the blonde in a snarky tone, leaning up against the fire escape railing. You were trying your best to keep your composure, but on the inside, you were terrified.

He pointed the blaster right at you, “We gave you a warning, and you didn’t listen,” he reminded you, taking another step.

“Yeah, because I love listening to mobsters telling me how to do my job,” you leaned against the railing, with nowhere else to go but down. You took a glance at the height you were at and were beginning to regret taking the apartment on the twelfth floor.

The blonde guy had enough of you, and fired the blaster towards your foot. Your head hit the railing as you fell to the floor, your eyes still on Peter who wasn’t far behind him.

“I swear, I should’ve killed you instantly,” he told you as he stared down at you, groaning on the metal of the fire escape.

Peter froze, feeling his chest tighten…

“Karen, activate instant kill!”

All different types of armed creatures, coming after Peter. His iron arms and legs helping him out as he clawed his way through. Peter continued to web them up and fight, his abilities amplified in a way he never felt before. He observed limbs being torn off, and what he suspected was blood hit his face. He was killing, wasn’t he?

They weren’t human. But they were living, breathing things, weren’t they? They were beings and Peter was..killing them. Even if it was with the help of his suit, he still initiated it. He made the call to kill. He was the one responsible for ending their lives, regardless of whether or not they were attacking him.

He was the one who ended all of their lives. He pulled the trigger. Something he never done before...

“Ugh, I don’t got this! Help!”

Peter lunged after the blonde guy. He grabbed him by his scalp and brought his forehead down onto the railing of the fire escape. Blood sprayed out from the top of his head as Peter repeated his actions. You laid there motionless and in pain, trying to call for Peter to stop, but you could barely get your words out.

You watched as Peter took the blonde and pummeled him over and onto the ground. You tried screaming out for Peter, but still nothing. You were able to pick yourself back up as Peter pinned him down. He removed his blaster from his hand, and tossed it to the side.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it, you lying shit!” the blonde shouted at Peter. You looked over and saw someone you didn’t recognize anymore. Whoever that was, was no longer Peter, any hint of him that remained was gone now in this moment.

Peter screamed in his face before punching him right in his jaw. You could see the blood spurting out from his mouth as he kept punching. You stood there frozen, completely terrified as you watched Peter refusing to get off him.

You heard him gurgling over Peter’s wails between punches. There was already so much blood, and he was choking on it. Peter wasn’t even aware of his own strength, you thought. The sounds coming out of the both of them were some of the most unsettling sounds you’ve ever heard. Especially coming from Peter.

Finally feeling yourself coming back from the blast, you moved as quickly as you could over towards them. You pulled on Peter’s shoulders, trying to move him off of him, but he was too strong.

“Peter! Stop it! Stop, Peter!” you shout at him, realizing you called him by his full name in front of these guys.

But Peter took a sharp breath before giving him one last hit, right in his face, where you finally got a good look at him. A knot tied around your stomach when you realize exactly what Peter had done.

You managed to pull Peter off of him finally. His breathing was ragged and you could have sworn he was crying, he’d never tell you but, you could definitely hear it in his voice as he tried catching his breath. There was blood all over his knuckles, all over the metal, and his hair was drenched in his own sweat.

Both you and Peter stared down silently at the lifeless body, your hand on his shoulder as he managed to stand back up, “Fuck,” you breathed out, not sure of what you should or shouldn’t say right now. Maybe silence was the best way to go.

Peter leaned over the railing, beginning to empty his gut over the edge and onto the ground floor. You just stood there, completely helpless until you realized the two of you weren’t alone. You pivoted your head to turn back towards your apartment only to see the body was missing.

Just great, you thought.

“We need to call somebody,” You finally suggest, looking down at the body. You felt your stomach turning like Peter’s, wincing at the body that couldn’t stare back at you because it’s face was entirely deformed.

“Get out of here,” Peter finally spoke, wiping his face as he stared down at the body, “Don’t ever look for me again. Just get out of here,” he said, reaching down to pick him up.

You felt tears beginning to prick your eyes, noticing every hair was sticking up on Peter’s arms and neck, “No. Let me help you, I can figure this out,” you told him, hearing your voice quivering with fear.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Y/N?! I don’t want your help, I never asked! And because of you, look!” He practically screamed as he pointed towards the dead body lying beneath them, “So stay the fuck out of my life. I am not. Him. Anymore.  Do you understand? I came here to kill you, Y/N!” He shouted.

You shook your head, swallowing what he told you harshly, “But you wouldn’t have done it,” You tried to say, but you weren’t even sure if that was the truth anymore.

“Yes it is. I am not your fucking Spider-Man anymore! I killed him just like I killed him, okay? Just like I killed Tony, so knock if off.” he screamed, now getting in your face.

The only thing you could do was nod your head. With Peter inches away from your face, venom in his eyes, and now, with a taste of blood; you weren’t sure how to answer other than to just agree with him. You were afraid. And Peter was no match for your taser gun. You hoped deep down, he wouldn’t actually hurt you. But you also believed at one point Peter wouldn’t hurt anybody. Maybe this meant you really needed to let go of Peter once and for all.

“Good,” Peter answered as he lifted the body over his head. He stood on the railing, and you finally saw his web shooter attached to his wrist, “Because I will not hesitate to kill you if you don’t,” he said before springing up to the next high-rise.

------

Peter stood on the loading dock with the human-sized garbage bag sitting by his feet. He stared down at the bag, gritting his teeth together with anger. Not even angry that he killed him, he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to since beginning to work for Kingpin.

No, he was angry that you made him do it. If it weren’t for you, he’d be able to get away with most of the stuff he did. Was he proud of stealing Stark’s technology for who knows what? No, but he wasn’t exactly proud of killing Tony either.

If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been forced to go to your place and try and kill you to begin with. But you were still alive, because of Peter. And now, that was another thing Peter had to deal with now. He killed one of his own, and you were left alive. There was no way Kingpin was going to let Peter go scot free now.

Why the fuck did he even save you? It was as if something had come over him, and he had to kill this guy to make sure you could live another day. Even if that meant risking Peter’s now. No, he didn’t want you dead, but he also didn’t want you around him either. He needed you out of his life, and was willing to do anything to push you out. But you continued to make his life worse.

The police were already on the scene due to one of your neighbors calling about a noise issue. There weren’t any bodies for them to look at. There wasn’t even blood on the scene. Peter assumed you went back and cleaned up after him before the cops showed up, but he wasn’t sure how you snuck around them so quickly.

It was only a matter of time before Peter would see a report in The Daily Bugle that you had written, calling it another break-in, poking your nose where it didn’t belong, no matter how many countless times Peter had asked you to stop. You would never quit, and he hated it.

He was done saving you. He was done saving himself. Whatever happened, happened. If Kingpin found him and killed him, so be it. Maybe he was finally ready to die.

Shoving a few more rocks into the back to make sure it would go all the way down, Peter tied a knot on the end of the bag. He really was dead, Peter noted. His skin was cold and hard, and his eyes stared at Peter with total emptiness.

Peter swallowed, picking the body up in one swift motion. He inhaled sharply as he heaved the body into the river, the excess water splashing up and hitting Peter at his ankles as soon as it hit the water.

He stayed until the bag sank down, until he couldn’t see it anymore. It was almost as if the Peter you once knew was in the bag with him, sinking down to the very bottom of the river, and the new Peter could no longer do anything to try and save them, they were cold, hard, and dead.

Chapter Four

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