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illumilu · 3 years

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“there’s only one bed” - hisoka morow x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? i roll with cringe. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this a bit too long, but who cares?? i have time, you have time and an incandescent loneliness to fill, so let’s get into it!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with hisoka, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part one of a three-part series, with the adultrio. illumi and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! i’m afraid there’s no nsfw here... keep in mind it’s hisoka - i kept it as pg as possible... may be ooc i’m sorry :)

hisoka morow:

- you arrived at your hotel room, tired from the trip there, not quite sure what to expect. you stared at the single bed placed in the middle of the room, aghast. there must have been some kind of mistake. except there wasn’t. the room had been booked out of simplicity, with no specification on the number of beds, or anything else for that matter.

- and, of course, the man you had booked this room with was none other than hisoka morow.

- otherwise known as the most flirtatious man on earth.

- a little bit of backstory; as your strictly professional colleague, hisoka was always taunting you with his charming little phrases, treating you like his little toy whom he could mess around with.

- “oh, y/n! whatever will we do~?”

- you sighed in frustration. out of all the people you could have been stuck with on this trip, it had to be hisoka.

- hisoka sighed and pouted - not from worry or anguish - but, rather, to mock you. you shot him a dirty look.

- “my my, y/n... why so serious? it’s not like i’ll do anything~”

- the playful lilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

- while hisoka went off to take a shower, you busied yourself with your latest objective; making sure he couldn’t pull anything. being inventive as you were, you gathered all the pillows from the bed (which, for some reason, there were many of), and built a wall separating the two sides of the mattress.

- you got changed promptly, and lay on the left side of the bed, waiting for hisoka to come back. however, his shower ran for longer than expected, and soon enough you felt yourself becoming drowsy.

- just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard hisoka’s voice come from the other side of the room.

- he chuckled. “y/n, what do we have here? your latest invention~?” he teased, ridiculing you.

- “i don’t trust you.” you stated plainly, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t see him from across the strangely high pillow wall you had made, but you could feel him smirking.

- “...and for good reason, y/n..”

- he extended his arm and lazily ejected his bungee gum to attach to the pillows, knocking them over in an instant. damn. you thought you had made a pretty good structure.

- you rolled over lethargically to see him standing there; what a sight.

- honestly, you didn’t mind hisoka. it was just... he often became... annoying. as much as he irritated you, you had to admit he was quite pretty. striking amber eyes, streaky plum hair that fell across his face, soft lips and an overall impressive facial structure. not to mention his unique fashion sense that somehow accentuated his toned body. porcelain skin, with his childish paint, which was so often called on by you - “hisoka, do you put that on every goddamn morning?” - he was a fine man.

- but, when that bastard opened his mouth.

- what a contrary tale.

- he waltzed closer to the bed and eventually sat down with his legs crossed, like a child in a classroom - except, he was staring down at you, who was scowling at him.

- “hisoka. don’t pull anything. i’m going to sleep.” you ordered, rolling to your other side so you were now facing away from him.

- “oh y/n... but how could i resist you~?” he joked, lying down on his back, unnecessarily close to you. you tensed up.

- “hisoka.” you warned. except you didn’t really sound like you were warning anyone. some undertones in your voice urged you to let things happen - for an uncertain millisecond, thoughts of letting hisoka do what he wanted plagued your mind.

- the millisecond passed soon enough.

- the jester turned to his side, so you were both facing the same direction and began whispering in your ear with a smile. why was his voice so... smooth? so succinct and mellow? that was not the type of person he was. so why did you want to melt into him? he giggled childishly.

- “so... y/n... you wouldn’t mind if i did-”

- “-this!”

- all of a sudden, hisoka was embracing you, cuddling you and shoving his idiotic face into the crook of your neck.

- “HISOKA, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET OFF ME.”

- “oh, but if you wanted me off, couldn’t you simply give me a little kick~?”

- bright idea, madman. bright idea.

- you kicked him in the stomach, which invoked no painful reaction, but prompted him to roll to the other side of the bed, letting you escape from his clutches.

- “ah. y/n, that hurt~” he exhaled tiredly, feigning offence; it was more of a hum, which escaped his mouth like golden honey pouring from a dipper.

- “good. don’t come near me again.”

- “if that’s what you want, darling~”

- “don’t call me that, morow.” you glowered.

- “how scary... good night, y/n.”

- despite trying to hide it underneath his complacent ego, hisoka was beginning to worry. the man was attracted to essentially everyone, but something pulled him closer to you especially. you had a certain magnetism about you that he found increasingly attractive. why did he find teasing you so... enjoyable? why did he long for you to reciprocate? thoughts such as these had been swarming his subconscious since the beginning of the trip. he had pushed away such speculation, for it didn’t suit him.

- a man like him, a man who killed so depravedly, a man whom nothing was known about, an enigma of sorts; surely a man like that didn’t deserve to truly love.

- meanwhile, your brain was a motor engine; what had just happened, and why did you let it go on for so long? you had the reflexes of an expert nen user; so why did you let him stay there, nuzzling into you, before socking him in the gut?

- what a conundrum, for the both of you. looks like this cliche is reaching its peak, hm?

- you fell asleep soon enough; after all, the trip had been long and you were tired. not only physically, but also emotionally. hisoka wasn’t helping your case.

- hisoka himself often had trouble sleeping, which many people didn’t know. most nights, he just lay there solemnly, thinking of new card tricks or enticements for new victims.

- lately, however, he had been thinking of you.

- which he didn’t like at all.

- time passed as his mind whirred while he contemplated who you were, and why you made him so impressionable. suddenly, he heard something.

- he had his back turned to you but heard a shuffling of bedsheets. what time was it? 1am? 2am? he couldn’t tell, but he came to the conclusion that you moved around when you slept and left it at that.

- that was, until, he felt someone cling around his back and reach across his chest firmly, wrapping around his waist with their leg.

- that someone was you.

- if only you knew what you were doing, you would be appalled... maybe a little grateful... but for the most part, appalled.

- your soft breath brushed hisoka’s back delicately, making his nerves transform into an quivery yet arrogant smirk. your arm was wrapped around his chest and your leg was draped across his side. you were obviously deeply sleeping. he couldn’t see you from the way you were embracing his back, but he could have easily woken you up at any given moment.

- so, why didn’t he wake you up?

- maybe it was because he could tease you about it in the morning. yeah. that seemed reasonable. that seemed alike to what hisoka would usually do.

- or maybe it was something else, something he didn’t want to come to terms with, something panging within his heart, something festering inside of him, something that was a victim to his ignorance of emotion.

- much like he had done to you earlier, you burrowed into his shoulder, sighing contentedly, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

- blissfully unaware of the way you were ruling over hisoka, the way you were confusing him and making his emotions a tumultuous mess.

- surprisingly, you clinging to him helped him sleep, and within 15 minutes, hisoka was out like a light. though neither of you were conscious enough to experience it, those few hours you spent embracing each other felt tranquil. it almost felt normal, or like something that should have happened long ago, but never did.

- as peaceful as those hours were, the moment you woke up, everything crumbled into chaos. complete and utter mayhem - at least, on your part.

- you woke up calmly enough, as one usually does, without realising where you were or what you were doing. but, as soon as you registered that you weren’t hugging a pillow, but in fact a person, your reflexes triggered and you abruptly let go, jolting backwards and upright.

- oh my god.

- not just a person.

- hisoka morow.

- you stared at him dozing away, like the little jerk he was.

- what had he done to you? had he put you under some spell? no, that wouldn’t make sense. he was a transmuter, not a manipulator. the bastard probably didn’t even know how to manipulate. then, what was it? was it his dumb bungee gum? your mind was racing 100 miles per hour, so you sat on the left side of the bed, sullen and confused.

- your side of the bed. the left side. the side you had so protectively proclaimed as “your side”. yet there you had been, on his side of the bed, cuddling him? what type of sorcery had he used to make you embrace him so passionately?

- facing the wall, you rationalised yourself. hisoka wouldn’t have done anything, right? but neither would you. right? right?

- “awake, are we?”

- hisoka interrupted your disarray of thoughts. you stood up and turned to look at him. he was propped up on the header of the bed, staring at you composedly. with those amber eyes. what was he on? why was he doing this to you?

- “you...” you began accusing him but couldn’t finish. looking at hisoka, he seemed... well-rested for once. did he even know what had happened? was he waiting for you to admit something?

- “i...? i what, y/n? use your words~” he cooed mischievously.

- oh, the jackass. he definitely knew.

- you glared at him, unable to compile your thoughts into words. you watched as he stood up and walked toward you, until he was standing opposite you, gazing into your eyes. he smiled knowingly at you, causing an surge of emotions to rush up your throat, inciting you to say something, to do something, anything.

- “did you...”

- “no, y/n. it was you.” he simpered.

- oh.

- he raised his hand and pat you on the head, a sly and righteous smirk ceasing to wipe off his lips. he left to the bathroom, leaving you standing there, mouth agape, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. or perhaps, better said, in confusion. when did you start clinging to people like that?

- why... did you feel so at home? when you first woke up, something had been different. some sort of warmth had enveloped you, in your heart. it had felt nice to have someone to lie close to.

- in the meantime, hisoka was also seriously mulling over his emotions for you. so many questions invaded his mind, each popping up quicker than the last had been answered.

- sometimes, he felt as if it would be better to keep everything about you tucked away. underneath his charming, intelligent mask was years of emotion and love and hatred and all things deemed merely human, but too human for him to ever “deserve”.

- as the jester stared at his dazed reflection in the cheap hotel mirror, he came to this conclusion; it wasn’t a matter of what he deserved, or his entitlement. he had to confront the obvious truth that had been bugging him for so long.

- he would tell you he loved you, but not for himself. he would do it for you.

- let’s just say this was the start of something new.

hey so i thought it’d also be good to mention that this is my first time writing a fic on here... to be honest, it’s more the format of a drabble, but i hope you enjoyed! the word count was 2084 words, so i’m super sorry for rambling on too much - i feel like i got a little too deep into hisoka’s character at the end there. illumi’s and chrollo’s version will be coming when i have the time!

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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ivorysoapshavings · 3 years

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Matching (Kenma x reader)

You were up late overthinking about life when you came to the conclusion that dying your hair would solve your problems (or at least cover them up). You grab your keys and head out the door to grab what you needed for this midnight adventure

You were practically buzzing as you stepped out of your car and into the Drugstore parking lot. You’re nervous and exited energy mixing together creating this weir anticipation. ‘Should I actually do this, this is probably a disastrous idea,” you worried to yourself. Just as soon as the wave of doubt came it vanished “no,” you muttered to yourself “you want this you will have it, it will look great,” Without another doubt you waltzed straight into your local drugstore, heading straight for the hair isle. One you were there you grabbed bleach for your hair, a box of bright almost highlighter orange hair die, some gloves, and an applicator. You quickly paid for your items and left the store way too excited for this. But a realization dawned on you as you sat down in your car ready to drive back home ‘I have no idea how the fuck I am supposed to go about doing this.’ the most you have ever done with your hair is style it; also those videos of peoples hair falling out because they did something wrong kind of terrified you.

You sat in your car for a good thirty minutes contemplating how you should do this, if you should do this. Those fears of people hating it, having to shave your head, people staring at you almost made you want to throw the dye away and never think about it again. ‘I’ll just call Kenma and see what he thinks’ you thought to yourself

“Oh my god, Kenma!” you shouted face palming “I’m an idiot,” you grabbed your phone to text Kenma,

You: b there in 5 b ready😼😽

Ken🕺🕺: u in trouble or 3am impulsive decision

You: 3am impulsive decision that's going to get me in trouble

Ken🕺🕺: k doors unlocked

You put your phone down and go to start your car all the nervous energy now gone replaced with excitement.

You hop out of your car almost forgetting to grab the bag with the dye and make your way into the apartment building, taking the all to familiar path to Kenmas apartment. After taking a few flights of stairs you reached his door. Quickly you went inside eager to get started. You went straight to his office turned gaming/streaming room knowing thats where he would be. You opened the door to him surprisingly streaming.

“I thought you didn’t stream past 2am,” you said confused

“Well hello to you too,” he said sarcastically pausing his game to face you, “and I couldn't sleep and I was bored,”

“Cool mind if I join,” you tossed the bag full of dye in Kenmas direction and turned to pull up a chair to sit next to him. You heard a small chuckle as he searched the bag you tossed at him.

“Not at all, all though your text makes sense now,” he looked at you smirking as you placed your chair next to him. You just smiled and faced his monitors, one with raft pulled up and the other with chat and all the stream settings.

You waved “hey guys I’m back interrupting stream again,”

Kenma chuckled “ for those that are new here this is (y/n), my frie-,”

“Favorite bestest friend ever,” you interrupted proudly

“Acquaintance,” he finished.

You turned and pouted at him, “mean”

“Anyways,” he turned back to his stream “we are having an unplanned break from the game, because this thing,” he gestured at me, “Is incapable of dying their hair and wants me to do it.” you stuck your tongue out at him and her returned the gesture. He grabbed the bag again laying everything out on the table. He picked up the bleach you got and made a disgusted face and tossed it back into the shopping bag.

“We’re using my bleach, that shit you got’ll destroy your hair,” he said getting up and leaving the room. ‘Thank God I didn’t decide to do this myself’ you mentaly sighed. Kenma came back caring the bleach, a bowl to put it in, and a towel to protect my clothes. He walked behind me and layed the towel around my neck.

“That towel looks like its been through hell and back,” you said, it was frayed and torn with lightened areas where you could tell bleach had been spilled with some color splotches here and there.

“Still works so I’ll still use it,” Kenma shrugged putting gloves on getting ready to start the dying process. He put some bleach in a bowl and instructed me to lean my head back, then started applying the bleach. ‘To late to turn back now’ you said to yourself.

After applying all the bleach Kenma sat back down taking his gloves off and setting a timer. For the duration of the timer you just sat together and answered questions that popped up in chat and argued over who is the best mario cart character which is of course shy guy. But Kenma would not have that. After the timer had finished you went to go rinse the bleach out. Once you had gone and washed the bleach out and towel dried your hair it was time to put in the actual color. While waiting for the color you guys decided to play Mario cart to prove which character was the best, after a coupe of rounds it was nearing the end of stream so you decided to raise the stakes.

“Hey Kenma,” you sung

“Yes?” he replied knowing you had something planed

“If I win this round you have to dye your hair orange too, if you win I’ll take you to get that new game you wanted,” he grew a devilish grin on his face

“You're gonna regret doing this,”

You won. So a couple hours later it was around 4 am and you both had annoyingly orange hair. Kenma had ended stream saying he would post a picture of his hair on instagram, so now you guys were just lounging on Kenmas sofa.

“I still have no fucking clue how you won that,” kenma sulked

“Because shy guy is superior,” you retorted. Kenma gave you a glare that would have looked way worse if not for his bright fluffy orange hair. “OH,” you shouted with a sudden idea “we need to show this to Shouyou,” Kenma suddenly lit up from his sulky mood

“For once you’re right about something,” you just sighed and opened the snapchat app on your phone. You guys snapped a photo and sent it to Shouyou with the caption ‘triplets’. Shouyou responded so fast he could probably be a world record holder. It was a blurry picture of his face with the caption ‘OMG OMG OMG I’M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO TAKE PICTURES TOGETHER’

You and Kenma never ended up sleeping instead taking pictures together with all three of you and posting them all over social media per Shouyous request.

#kenma x reader #kozume kenma #hq kenma #kenma fluff #kenma kuzome #oneshot #haikyū!!#haikyu #haikyuu!!#hq smau #haikyu x reader #hq imagines #kenma

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quiddy-writes · 7 years

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Surprise?

I had no real idea what I was gonna do with this, but I had to snatch up Tangled, which is my all-time favorite movie ever. Then, one night, it was 2am, I couldn’t go on FFXIV and bug my friends, I’d already found my Magic cards in amongst all the boxes I’ve yet to unpack, and so I was staring at my screen as I died from boredom and then, hey, simple idea hit.

I need to get my writing done between 12 and 3 all the time now. I forget that it’s when I’m most productive. :D

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Reader Challenge: @i-dont-know-how-to-write Cutie Challenge x Words: 1330ish Summary:The reader is woken up in the middle of the night to an intruder and, damn it, she's gonna defend herself. Warnings: Some swearing and sass, (because I can’t control myself), minor violence Prompt: Tangled

Y/N sighed happily, curling up under the thick, fluffy blankets on her bed. The day had been a total wash, with her car breaking down just as the storm had rolled in and having to even be near her pompous, asshole co-worker.

Coming home to cuddle with her covers and watch some Netflix with the thunderstorm and TV screen providing the only illumination in the room was just what she needed.

Halfway through her third episode of A Series of Unfortunate Events, she finally turned off everything and fell back onto her nest of pillows to drift off to sleep.

Which would’ve happened, had she not, a few minutes into her rest, heard glass breaking downstairs. She was immediately awake, sitting up in bed and holding the covers to her chest, as though that would protect her.

She reached over for her phone, only to find it dead. Right, she had left her phone charger downstairs and been too lazy to grab it once she had realized her mistake.

Son of a bitch.

She was torn between two possibly equally stupid ideas. She could hide upstairs under her covers like a child hiding from the boogeyman, or she could try to go downstairs and get outside to a neighbor’s.

She whined pathetically, shaking with fear as she finally made her decision. She silently swung her bare feet onto the floor, cringing with every creak under her steps as she slipped out of her bedroom and into the hallway. She tip-toed to the stairs, finally seeing a faint light and hearing some quiet clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen.

She frowned, crouched on the stairs, trying to make herself as small as possible. Was it an animal? Could animals open fridges? Shit, her electric bill was high enough, close the damn door!

Y/N heard heavy footfalls leave the kitchen, heading towards the dining room. Which, thankfully, was behind the staircase. Now she had a clean shot to the front door through the kitchen, and she was going to take it.

She creeped down the last steps, cringing at every step, no matter how silent they were. She slowly and methodically slinked her way towards the exit. When her base feet met the linoleum, she looked around for the intruder, trying to still be stealthy. She couldn’t see anything, and she prayed the same was for whatever was in her dining room.

Curiosity gripped her. She needed to know what was in her house. She rationalized it, saying to herself that she needed a vague bottom to tell the police. She’d hate to bother them if it did turn it to be innocuous. Somehow.

Only wanting to do one stupid thing that night, she reached above her, carefully freeing the largest frying pan she had. She gripped the handle with both hands and moved towards the dining room.

In the pitch black, she could only see a vague shape at her table. She thought it might be a bear, but then it pulled out a cell phone, dialing with one hand awkwardly.

With a soft front, he put it up to his ear. “Sammy?”

Without thinking, she took her pan and smacked him as hard as she could across the back of his skull.

He fell to the side, knocking over the chair that he had been occupying.

A voice was heard from the phone, calling out a name: Dean.

She picked it up, ending the call. His buddy wasn’t helping to rob her, that was for sure.

She looked down at her victim, flicking on the light as she did so.

Oh no.

He was gorgeous.

His plush lips were slack, revealing straight, white, perfect teeth. His sandy brown hair, cropped close to his head, looked soft to the touch. A straight nose rested on perfect checkles, sprinkled with freckles, and she found herself wondering what color his eyes were.

His broad frame was crumbling on the floor, and that’s when she noticed the blood amidst her ogling.

His right hand was covered in it, and a gash was oozing from his left side. He was hurt.

She cursed that that pulled immediately at her heartstrings. She leaned forward, tugging up on his shirt to take a quick look at the wound, see if they also need paramedics.

His hand shot out and latched around her wrist. She yelped in surprise and immediately began trying to free herself.

“Please,” he groaned, making her eyes shoot up to meet his own.

Oh son of a—was he a fucking Greek god or something?! Why did every single bit of him have to beautiful?!

“No hospital.”

She frowned. “You’re hurt. And, I mean, probably have a concussion now.

“No hospital. ’m fine.”

“Fine? You broke into my house bleeding and I hit you with a frying pan? At the very least, you’re having a bad day.”

He smirked and, had she not already been kneeling, her knees would’ve gone weak. “A frying pan? What are we, in a cartoon?”

“Shut up!” She flushed. “It was all I could think of!”

“No shame, you clocked me real good,” he groaned, moving to a sitting position. “I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I just needed some ice and then I’ll go.”

Y/N squirmed. “But…”

“You want the guy who broke into your house to stay?” He chuckled.

“No, of course not!” She flushed. “You’re just…if I’d known you were hurt, I wouldnt’ve hit you.”

“No, you should’ve,” he waved her off. “Strange man in your house when you live alone.”

“How do you know I live alone?”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “If you have a boyfriend or a husband or whatever, and they left you to fight me alone, I’m kicking their ass.”

Shu chuckled in spite of herself. “Well, good to know my robber will protect my honor.”

“My name is Dean, sweetheart.”

“Great, now I know what to tell the cops.”

He laughed at that, though it obviously hurt him.

With a heavy sigh, she finally relented. “Will you let me get something for that?”

“You have whiskey?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“I meant medical supplies.”

“Whiskey is a medical supply.”

Another laugh escaped her, and she pulled lightly at his hand. “Fine, I’ll go look for that too. Just let me go.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” his thick fingers straightened, and she was free.

She pushed herself off the ground and was back a few moments later with a handful of medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. “This is all I had.”

“That’ll do,” he shrugged, which he immediately regretted. He leaned back onto his elbows as she lifted his shirt to reveal the gash. “Alright, pour the vodka.”

“What? I have iodine, dude, chill,” she said as she dabbed the chemical onto some cotton balls.

“Ooh, fancy,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes and began dabbing at his wound. He took in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, but otherwise said nothing.

Upon close inspection, the gash along his side wasn’t just one cut, but four long lacerations. To her untrained eye, it didn’t look like any weapon she’d ever seen. “Were you attacked by an animal?”

“Sorta.”

That confused her. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You broke into my house and now I’m cleaning your wounds. I think I earned a story.”

He chuckled, watching her as she worked. “I think I owe you more than a story.”

Her eyes briefly met his, and her face flushed from his heated gaze. “Are you flirting with me? Really?”

“Well, I was referring to your frying pan,” he teased. “But, hey, a badass woman who can defend herself and is beautiful? Worth a shot.”

She toyed with her bottom lip as she focused back on his wound. “You should focus on getting better and out of my house.”

He shrugged. “Well, the offer stands.”

She pulled away, placing the cotton balls on the ground next to them before taking the biggest bandages she could and trying to cover as much of the wounds as she could.

“Do I need stitches?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” she grumbled.

He laughed, throwing his head back as he did. His hand came down to grip the wounds again, obviously hurting himself.

She took his right hand, lifting it off his side and taking it in her own. “Shit, your hand’s covered.”

“The shirt’s already ruined, sweetheart,” he mumbled, somewhat reluctantly pulling his hand away and pressing it back against the gash.

Her soft laughter was cut off by the sound of her front door slamming open, revealing the tallest male-model she’d ever seen, holding a giant, gleaming gun and a flashlight that tried its best to blind her.

“Damn it, Sammy!” Dean groaned, covering his eyes.

The new intruder—Sammy, apparently—looked more than a little dumbfounded. “You…you’re okay?”

“‘m fine. Had a great nurse,” Dean winked at her.

Sammy sighed heavily, pushing his gun into the back of his pants. “Of course you’d find a way to flirt with this girl. Look, ma’am, I’m really sorry about my brother.”

Holy shit, what genes did their parents pass down?!

“It’s no problem, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Alright, we’ll get outta your hair. C’mon, Dean,” Sammy wrapped Dean’s free arm around his shoulders and helped the hurt man to his feet slowly.

Dean grunted and groaned and, without a second thought, Y/N slid under his other arm, her hands finding his waist amongst all the flannel to help him along.

“Can’t stay away, huh?” Dean smirked, though he looked a little more woozy and less clear.

“Ma’am, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t worry about it. Where’re going?”

Sam led them all the a beautiful, sleek black classic car that was parked right in front of her home. They pushed him into the passenger seat as gently as they could. Dean waved Sam off, leaving the former and Y/N alone as he walked around to hop in the front seat.

Dean looked up at her, looking more like a lost puppy and not the bear that she’d feared when she awoke a short while ago. He smiled, and she felt all warm inside, the terror completely gone. “You sure I can’t make it up to you?”

She tried to hold back her own smile in return, and failed. “Well, if you wanna take me to dinner tomorrow night, I won’t object.”

His smile got wider, and he looked like a child just given a puppy. “Sounds good. I’ll pick you up around six?”

“Sounds good. And, seriously, thank you.”

She shrugged. “It was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Wait until after dinner tomorrow before you say that,” he joked, which pulled a light laugh from her. “Hey, you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, nodding his approval. “I like it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Might have to ask Sammy for the address.”

Dean opened his mouth to object, but then then stopped and, after a beat, shrugged.

“Sleep tight, okay?” she said as she began to close the door.

“Night!” Dean called, just as Sam leaned over and said the same, even thanking her again for her help.

She stood there in her pajamas on the sidewalk, watching until the car was out of sight. She then turned around to her home and began cleaning up a little bit some of the blood Dean had left behind, as well as the medical stuff she’d left on the floor.

She even picked up her frying pan, though she had to stop cleaning for a bit as she laughed. It was completely ruined, a giant dent right smack dab in the center of the pan. She was going to have to take Dean up on his offer for a new frying pan the next day but, no matter what, she was never getting rid of this one.

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visionsofus · 4 years

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MIT, Time Travel and oh mY GOD IT’S PETER PARKER!

see the first story here, or start the sequel on ao3 and you’ll receive my eternal love and devotion!

| chapter 5 - an eventful thanksgiving |

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Peter and May spend an eventful thanksgiving at the Avengers Compound with the rest of the team.

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Peter had his legs tucked beneath him as he pressed his head against the tinted glass of the window. The wheels thundering down the highway made his head bump up and down and when the vibration grew too disrupting, he leant his head back against the leather headrest and sighed. He had definitely stayed out too late the night before to be up this early. Peter let his eyes fall shut against the sights flashing past the window and tried his very best to get some sleep.

After seeing MJ home the previous night, Peter had gone back to the lab and ensured that things were all running according to plan. His weekends back in New York were his only time to be able to check, in person, on how the prototypes were going for the various projects he had in motion. Luckily, nothing had blown up in his absence and everything was running smoothly. He’d spent a couple of hours tweaking various things before getting on to his next important task of the evening.

New York had not seen Spider-Man in two weeks and if Peter didn’t show his face, or mask, soon, then the press would probably start spinning tales of his death. He’d spent a few more hours out and about, clearing up some small skirmishes throughout the city before finally retiring back to the apartment around 2am.

Peter’s legs were beginning to cramp, and his neck was starting to twinge from the odd angle it was at. After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep (it didn’t help that Peter wasn’t all that good at sitting still) he opened his eyes and unfolded his legs, flopping against the back of the seat in defeat. He flicked his phone open and skipped the song he had been listening to. But it seemed like everything in his playlist was annoying him at the minute as he flicked past Rhianna’s Umbrella and Back in Black byAC/DC, eventually giving up and yanking his headphones from his ears.

“Everything ok, Pete?” May asked, pausing the conversation she had been having with Happy in the front seat.

“Yeah fine, just tired that’s all.” Peter muttered, running a hand over his face and sighing.

May gave him a concerned look and he mustered a half-hearted smile.

“That’s more like it, it’s Thanksgiving and you get a break from work!” May said trying to be enthusiastic and giving Happy a look that indicated he should probably follow suit.

Peter watched Happy’s eyes flick to him in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, your Aunt’s right, you’ll get to catch up with the rest of the team, Morgan will be there.” Happy said supportively and May gave him a smile and a squeeze on the shoulder.

Peter smiled weakly and turned his attention outside. He could tell they were getting close to the compound. A feeling was beginning to settle in Peter’s stomach, and he wasn’t sure he could quite place what it was… dread wasn’t quite right… maybe apprehension?

He loved the compound with all his heart, after all, he had been thoroughly involved in the design and security of the new buildings. After accepting his part time position at Stark Industries, Pepper had brought Peter onto the project for rebuilding the compound. Not only did this give Peter something to do, but it also taught him the process of getting approval and all the levels of order he more or less had to answer to. Back when he had been an intern, he’d just asked Tony if he could start a project, but he’d quickly learnt that there was now a new order to follow.

In the month he had been stuck in his spiralling depression, the rest of the team had cleared the carnage that remained of the compound and were left with a clean slate to start something new.

Bruce, Carol and Nick Fury were heading the task, designing the new compound to fit the new-ish team and making space for anyone who might join them in the future. Peter had spent the better part of the summer break covering the tech side of the new base, ensuring that there were features that would prevent it from falling prey to future attacks.

He’d been under the strict supervision of Nick Fury (who was incredibly specific about what sort of defences the compound needed – Peter had begun to think he was slightly paranoid), Pepper (who had generously provided majority of the funding for the new base, along with a variety of other philanthropists) and Carol Danvers (who had all the otherworldly knowledge that Peter needed to design the best security system possible). Bruce had been in charge of the actual design and had tried to stay as true to the first compound as he could. It had taken around a month of hard work to design everything and a lot of communication with Shuri in Wakanda, who had taught Peter about the shielding software she had designed, before everything was ready to go. Throughout the whole process Peter felt that in many ways he had grown a lot closer to the rest of the team but couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he still didn’t quite stand on the same footing as them.

“Alrighty, here we go.” Happy said and Peter felt the car slowing as he was drawn out of his thoughts and into the present.

“Are we here?” Peter asked.

“Oh my gosh that’s the first time that you’ve asked during the whole trip, I figured that you’d be saying ‘are we there yet’ every half an hour like you did as a kid.” May cooed and Peter grumbled something about ‘I’m an adult now’ which made May wrinkle her nose as she laughed.

That was when the voices reached Peter’s ears and he instinctively shifted away from the windows, despite their impenetrable tint. The car slowed and Happy pressed his hand on the steering wheel, giving a short beep of the horn to try and get the people ahead to move out of the way.

Peter suddenly wished he had left his headphones in.

“This is absolutely insane.” May said as she peered out the window at the scores of press vans, cameras and reporters lining the fence of the Avengers Compound. Peter hoped they didn’t get too close to set the security systems off. The arrival of a new car to the scene caused great excitement and people ran, shoving each other aside to try and get a view of who was behind the tinted windows.

Peter ground his teeth in frustration as his eyes darted around at the scene playing on outside the window. It was so unnerving to be in front of the camera, even if he knew there was no way they could see him. He could already imagine the headlines now if they figured out it was him in the car. No need to fuel the news’ insistence that he was the new Tony Stark, Peter’s position at Stark Industries was enough to do that on its own.

“I don’t see why Danvers felt the need to tell the public that the Avengers are spending Thanksgiving together.” Happy grumbled as he slowed the car to a near stop, edging it forward slowly. He couldn’t stop entirely otherwise the press would collect around the car and make it impossible to move, as they were currently trying to do. It was a difficult balance and Peter almost hoped that Happy ran over the toes of some of the reporters in the process.

Peter knew why Carol Danvers had felt the need to alert the press to their Thanksgiving plans, the Avengers did need to present a united front. The rest of the world was slowly but surely putting itself back together, order had been restored more or less though there were still some countries in complete disarray. Peter suspected that the Department for Foreign Affairs and Defence Force had banded together to insist the Avengers make some press noise just so the rest of the world could see the arsenal that America had assembled should they think about taking advantage of the fragile international order. Admitting this didn’t make it any easier for Peter to handle the hordes of press awaiting them.

Thanksgiving with the Avengers… what a strange thought? It was kind that Carol had asked for May to be there as well. Peter and his aunt had never really been strictcelebrators of Thanksgiving, but he had to admit that the chance for a big lunch and to do some tinkering at the compound was pretty appealing.

After a few more beeps of his horn Happy finally made it to the front gate and they waited patiently as the gates were opened slowly as whoever was manning the security system in the compound recognised the black sedan. The car lurched forward as they entered the compound, leaving the clamouring press to wait behind. Now that the people were out of the way Happy increased his speed as they pulled up the drive to the compound.

With the press left in the dust behind them, Peter couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his chest at the sight of the complex before him. Over the last few months the compound had become his baby of sorts, after the weeks spent designing a system to protect it Peter had had to leave for university and hadn’t been able to see construction start. He’d monitored it sure, and had visited a few times when he was back in New York, but there was something different about seeing every piece where it was supposed to be as a whole. The compound had only been completed a month ago and Peter had luckily been around for the weekend as the finishing touches were put on.

May made noises of appreciation as they followed the sweeping lawns towards the main building and Peter craned his neck in-between the front seats to try and get a good look.

“Oh my gosh…” May said as she caught sight of the main building, the residential one that most of the Avengers stayed in. “Sweetie… you helped design this?”

“He sure did!” Happy said smiling widely.

“I think you missed your calling in architecture.” May said appreciatively and Peter could kind of understand what she meant, even if he didn’t deserve sole credit in any sense.

“I kinda did more of the stuff you can’t see, but there were a few things I had input on…” Peter said nonchalantly.

The first compound had been made for practicality, ease of use, everything was where it was so that it made it simple for the team to get around. Peter had taken a slightly new spin with it, after clearing his ideas with Pepper, he’d gone to MJ to get her opinion, after all she was the artist.

The new compound was still modern and for all intents and purposes, followed a similar design to the first build. After Wanda Maximoff and the rest of the Avengers had spent two weeks clearing the destruction that Thanos had left behind they had discovered that there were some parts of the original compound that could be recovered, the basement for one. As such, the new base had been built right on top of where its sister had stood. There was still the hanger in the North of the compound and the labs, conference rooms and medical bay in the West wing, but Peter and Pepper had tried to make the main building, the residential part, more homely.

It was still modern, but Peter had added in a few things of his own. The first, which you couldn’t see from the outside, was that the residential building was hollowed out on the inside. Glass cascaded down the inside walls, surrounding a large square at the centre of the building that the kitchen and living space had opened up to. Amongst all the technology and modernity of it all, Peter had decided a garden might be a nice touch. Pepper had loved the idea and had taken control of the project, doing a wonderful job of selecting trees and shrubbery and creating a small stream which ran the span of the courtyard. It seemed she had taken to gardening during the five years after the Decimation.

Peter had asked that they include as much glass (reinforced and bullet proof) as possible so that the compound could take advantage of the sun, given they were already going to be using so much energy to power it. Despite that, Peter was glad to say that the compound was 100% renewable, running on the green energy of the arc reactors in the basement.

And finally, there were the little touches that Peter had decided upon himself. There was symbolism throughout the compound, windows in the shapes of triangles, a roof top patio shaped as an arc reactor. Constant reminders of what it had cost to get them here.

The most prominent of which sat in the centre of the compound, a series of very rare, alien trees. One for Tony, one for Natasha, and the final one for Loki and every other person who had given their life to try and stop Thanos.

Happy pulled into the private car port and switched the car off, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thanks honey.” May said leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. Peter pretended to crinkle his nose in disgust, but May just smiled at him, which made Peter smile. He was so glad she was happy… even if, oddly enough, it was with Happy of all people.

“Thanks, Hap.” Peter said getting out of the car and slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, it clinked insistently which reminded Peter of all the work that he still had to do.

As though reading his thoughts May pointed a stern finger at him, “You are not going to get straight to work, you are going to come and talk with everyone first ok? I’m sure they all want to hear about how university is going.”

“I know…” Peter grumbled as they followed Happy to the glass doors which opened to let them in.

May had linked an arm with Happy and was whispering to him about something or other, Peter chose not to listen in – he could never be sure if it was something he actually wanted to hear… but it seemed like she was just as awestruck as Peter had been the first time he had come to the Avengers compound.

In the years since Tony had offered to induct Peter into the Avengers, he had only visited the compound a few times. Despite dedicating most of his Avengers time to Stark Industries before the Snap, Peter’s visits here had always been wonderful and, in some ways, felt like a dream from a very, very long time ago. Sometimes Peter wasn’t quite sure whether it was all real… if any of it had actually happened. Peter could feel his mind floating away and so he glanced around the room, grasping at anything that would ground him to the present and prevent the spiral he could feel himself being drawn into.

Peter could hear chattering from upstairs and so he pulled ahead of May and Happy, who were still whispering to each other, and took the stairs two at a time. Though he didn’t really need it, he grasped the silver railing with one hand and let the cold metal bring him back down to earth a little more.

As he had in the two times he’d been to the completed compound, Peter admired the interior design. It was simple and minimalistic but wasn’t without a few homely touches here and there. Large vintage prints of Steve Rogers from before he went into the ice adorned the walls leading up the staircase, inter woven with smaller frames which held newspaper clippings from the Avengers first mission together in New York. There were photos of the team together smiling, one of them all (besides Peter) in the living room of the first compound looking battered and bruised but still happy. Most of the photos had been taken before everything fell apart after the Sokovia accords and the fight in Germany. There were a few new editions Peter noted, a couple of ones of Tony but Peter let his eyes glaze as he passed them, refusing to look.

As Peter rounded the corner and reached the top of the stairs, he heard the voices becoming clearer and grinned when he heard the high pitch of Morgan’s chattering.

Peter dropped his bag against the wall at the front of the room and walked into the wide-open kitchen/living space. Of all the spaces, this one had stayed most like it’s original. All the permanent residents had agreed that this was the most important room in the house.

“Ayyy there he is.” Sam Wilson said jumping up from the couch and striding over to Peter to give him a hug.

Peter grinned and clapped Sam on the back in return. “Hey, how you going?”

“Good, good.” Sam said keeping a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guiding him into the kitchen, “very glad that we have a permanent base now, you’ve done a pretty great job.” Peter grinned, the two had definitely had a rocky start in Germany, but Sam had always been easy to talk to and get along with. Even if he did tease Peter incessantly, he never treated him like a child.

“Ah nah it wasn’t just me.” Peter said bashfully but smiling anyway. He turned to the rest of the room and as usual, the scope of heroes felt a bit like a kick to the stomach. Honestly, how long was it going to take him to get used to seeing them all here? His teammates… the word seemed strange to describe the odd collection of people before him.

“Peter!” Morgan cried, launching herself from the couch where she had been sat beside Pepper and running up the steps to throw herself into his arms.

Peter smiled and hugged her, letting her take his hand and lead him down to the living area where she began to show Peter a small robotic dog which barked and moved its little legs. As all young children usually do, Morgan had latched onto the idea of getting a dog and it seemed that Pepper had placated her demands with a robot for the time being. Peter wondered how long that would last. Pepper seemed to give him a knowing smile and a slight eye roll as Morgan doted on the robot.

As Morgan played with her toy Peter grinned at Wanda and Vision who were tucked up on the couch, he was glad to see that they were well. Even seeing them was, well, a miracle. From what Peter had heard from Bruce, who was currently busy in the kitchen with Rhodey, Vision had only been fully restored two weeks earlier. Peter couldn’t quite comprehend how they had done it and felt it a bit intrusive to ask. He was pretty sure that Wanda could feel the curiosity emanating from him, at least that’s what her wry smile seemed to tell him.

May and Happy finally reached the top of the stairs and Peter jumped up to go to his aunt’s rescue as the rest of the team emerged from different wings of the house, coalescing into the living room.

Rhodey emerged from the kitchen, removing oven gloves as he did and strode over to Peter to see him.

“Everything good?” Rhodey asked, his tone so serious that it made Peter’s brain scramble as he wondered whether something really was wrong.

“Yes.” Peter said smiling and clasping Jim Rhodes hand in return as the Colonel smiled and clapped Peter on the back.

Carol, Nick and a dark, long haired woman that Peter didn’t recognise had come from one of the other rooms in the house and were deep in discussion. They trailed off as they reached the rest of the group after getting a stern look from Rhodey who seemed to be taking this Thanksgiving business very seriously.

“No work talk in the kitchen, we’re on holiday today.” He said jabbing a wooden spoon at them.

“Peter, it’s good to see you again.” Carol said warmly, smiling at Peter who grinned in return.

“You’re still in one piece? College must be going easy on you…” Nick Fury said sizing Peter up, “we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Fury, seriously, Rhodey is right. It’s thanksgiving, can we please give the kid a break?” Carol said, frowning at him.

Peter had never really seen someone talk back to Fury like Carol did, but every time she did it reminded him of the insane power of the tesseract, aka the Space Stone, which coursed through her veins.

“We’ll be talking later.” Fury said glancing sideways at Carol in a way that made Peter’s stomach fill with lead. Already this visit was taking a not so great turn.

“By the way, this is Monica Rambeau.” Carol said indicating the woman standing next to her. “An old friend… more like family I suppose.”

“Spider-Man I assume.” Monica said extending her hand which Peter shook. She had a firm grip and if Peter had to guess he would say she had some form of military training based on the black trousers, combat boots and button-down ensemble she was wearing.

“Yep.” Peter said trying to smile but being called Spider-Man threw him off a little bit. Even though everyone in the room knew his true identity it was still strange to be so out in the open about it. If he was being honest it made him want to suit up immediately, even if just to hide behind his mask. Instead, he retreated a little to stand closer to his aunt who was just looking around the room with raised eyebrows.

She had met most of the Avengers before, whether it was through Pepper, Stark Industries or at Peter’s graduation (long story short, some of his teammates had crashed the ceremony which had significantly distracted the audience from the main event, while giving Peter a last minute popularity boost he hadn’t asked for – but he was nevertheless grateful they had deigned to show up at all). Peter had no doubt that seeing everyone in the same room, the energy of so much raw power, would be overwhelming. Heck, if Peter was overwhelmed then surely May would be too, right?

Instead, she looked extraordinarily relaxed. May’s eyes had followed him throughout his various interactions so far and something between sadness and pride could be seen in them. Peter frowned and decided not to comment on it. Peter edged a little closer to her though as he prepared for the next round of introductions and catching up.

May seemed to have other ideas as, having spotted Pepper and Morgan on the couch, left Happy to explore the kitchen and Peter to fend for himself.

“Parker,” Bucky called from where he was sat at one of the stools by the kitchen island, raised a hand in greeting.

“Hi Mr Bucky, sir.” Peter said waving back with a smile.

“Mr Bucky!” Sam said breaking into cackling laughter and hitting James Barnes roughly on the back which made Bucky shove Sam in defiance. If Sam hadn’t seen the shove coming, he probably would have been thrown onto the couch, but managed to duck it at the last second as he continued to laugh.

“I seriously hope that everyone is hungry, because we have a lotof food.” Rhodey said from the kitchen.

“Wait you made the food?” Peter said in slight disbelief.

“Oh, do you not think I can cook?” Rhodey said indignantly, a wooden spoon in his hand.

“No, no that’s not what I meant.” Peter said throwing his hands up in defence but smiling mischievously, nonetheless.

“That’s totally what he meant.” Bruce said from the other side of the kitchen where had just pulled two enormous turkeys from the oven.

“Hey!” Peter said as Bruce spared no sympathy in throwing him under the bus.

“Oh, he does it all the time, you should have heard the way he was badmouthing my lasagne.” Happy said, pulling said lasagne out of his freezer bag to heat up.

“I was not!” Peter said indignantly, thinking back to their conversation on his eating habits yesterday.

“Ok so Peter is getting none of the lamb.” Rhodey said as he gestured for Sam to start taking plates to the table.

“There’s no winning with you guys.” Peter said throwing his hands up in mock frustration but proceeding to help set the table anyway.

Peter’s leg was bouncing restlessly underneath the table as the dessert was being served. He wasn’t sure why he was so antsy and nervous, perhaps it was the fact that the only other times he had seen the whole team together like this was usually when they were about to die, save a few special occasions like birthdays. May knocked her knee against his and Peter stopped immediately. Perhaps it was because he was expecting someone to blow up at the table.

Sure, they were a team, but everyone had their own personalities and being on the battlefield was very different to sitting down at a lunch as though they were what… a group of friends, a family?

Perhaps it was how empty the table felt without Tony and Natasha. They both had such big personalities that it was almost quiet without them around. It was as though the conversation tried to compensate for the humour that was usually there, that would have been there.

If they were still alive.

Peter swallowed the bitter thought and took a spoonful of strawberries from a dish that was being passed around as Bruce made a terrible pun. Some people laughed but more than not, everyone was engaged in their own conversations. Stephen Strange was deep in discussion with Wanda and the newly resurrected Vision. Carol was in heated debate with Fury and Rhodey while Monica and Bruce appeared to be chatting casually at the other end of the table. Happy and May were talking with Pepper as she struggled to encourage Morgan to eat the food before her.

“Vis and I are going on holiday at the beginning of next month.” Wanda said causing the conversation to die immediately.

“What?” Carol said in surprise, looking as though she couldn’t be sure if she had indeed heard correctly.

“Well…” Wanda began looking to Vision beside her and he smiled a tight-lipped smile back, “things have been a little bit crazy these last few months—”

“Things have been a little bit crazy for everyone.” Monica Rambeau muttered, loudly enough for the whole table to hear and Carol shot her a look that told her to keep her mouth shut. Peter leant back in his chair trying to stay as far out of this conversation as possible.

“We just want some time for ourselves.” Wanda said ignoring Monica’s comment, desperation lacing her voice enough that Peter wondered if there was more to it than she was letting on.

“I didn’t realise the Avengers could take leave whenever they wanted.” Pepper quipped, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to encourage a stubborn Morgan to take a bite of her lamb and peas.

“That’s why I’m asking now.” Wanda said smiling somewhat painfully. It seemed this wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for.

“We won’t be gone long, 10 days at most.” Vision said, one of the first things that Peter had heard him say so far. Something about him seemed… different. Like he wasn’t quite all there. No one, it seemed, was eager to explain how he was there.

“You can’t just leave; we have things that need to be done here.” Carol said from the other end of the table.

“We really need to. This year… it’s been difficult and we… we need some time for ourselves.” Wanda replied firmly, looking at Vision for help but he was looking down at the plate before him.

“It’s been difficult on everyone.” Bruce said, setting his fork down and looking at Wanda with something like disappointment in his eyes.

“It’s just…” She looked at Vision who gave the slightest shake of his head and she trailed off.

“We’ll cover for you while you’re gone but you need to be back within the 10 days, and next time just ask with a little more time, so we know what’s happening. Both your skills are very much valued here, and we don’t want to be short-handed.” Carol explained, her gaze darting around the table as she spoke as though trying to anticipate if anyone would go against what she had said. It seemed no one was keen to challenge her word.

Sam was scowling but said nothing as he speared a strawberry and put it in his mouth. Wanda looked at him before lowering her gaze to her plate.

It seemed that the mood had turned sour as everyone tried to return to their previous conversations.

“Peter, I hear that you’re getting a new AI for the compound in today?” Carol changed the topic and Peter nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something Mr Stark developed but I finished the programme and I’ll install her today and maybe do a test run to see how things go.” Peter explained. “She should be able to take care of everything here which leaves Friday to manage Stark Industries.”

“Great,” Carol said before continuing, “if you have the chance could you also check out some of the circuits in the upstairs rooms, the doors have been locking people out even when the house isn’t locked.”

“Yeah I can.” Peter said smiling and taking a bite of a strawberry.

“Not to add to the list, but I’ve been having a few issues with the new suit, I don’t suppose you could tweak a few things, could you?” Sam asked sheepishly and Peter dreaded to think what he meant by ‘issues’.

It was already almost three o’clock said Peter’s watch, but he nodded anyway, he’d make time for it and still be back in New York to go to SI and get some things done. He tried not to think about College. “Yeah I can sort that out too.”

“Any big plans that you’re working on at the moment Peter?” Bruce asked curiously.

“u-uhm…” Peter stuttered, faltering as he thought about Project Chronos. Not quite Thanksgiving lunch material he decided, and he definitely should not mention it to Bruce. “Sort of, just some basic things for Stark Industries and a few things I’m working on for the team.”

“Cool,” Bruce said nodding through a mouthful of food, “and what about the Expo next month, are you presenting anything?”

“The expo?” Peter said swallowing another strawberry quickly, which strained painfully down his throat.

“The Stark Expo…” Bruce said looking between Peter and Pepper.

“The Stark Expo is at the end of December, Peter.” Pepper said, putting down Morgan’s fork.

“Oh right.” Peter said feeling as though his heart had actually stopped for a moment.

Crap… crap, crap, crap. It was fine right? He still had a whole month.

“Did you forget?” Pepper asked concerned.

“No… no of course not.” Peter lied.

“I asked you to present something on the night.” Pepper said sighing tiredly, and Peter tried not to squirm in his seat. How had he forgotten about the Stark Expo?

It was the first time the Expo would have been held in five years, considering the last time they’d had one had been before the Snap. Pepper had approached him a month ago asking if Peter might be up to showing some of the technology he had been developing and he’d been over the moon with excitement. Somewhere along the way though, it had fallen into the backseat of his mind as he was consumed by College, work for the Compound and the Avengers, and Project Chronos.

“I’ll have something ready.”

“So, you’ll be able to send me a brief then? Everything needs to be cleared by the event organisers by Wednesday.” Pepper prompted.

“Yes.” Peter choked out as he ate another strawberry, a million thoughts coursing through his head. He had no brief prepared and hadn’t even thought about what he might present – or the fact that he was going to have to present, in front of a big crowd, at the biggest Stark event of the year. Wednesday was soon, and he had an assignment due next week, plus studying for finals… he would have to find some time to fit it in elsewhere.

“Surely you’ll do something with the new suit tech you developed for me?” Sam asked Peter from where he was sitting by Carol.

“Yeah maybe…” Peter said casting a forlorn look to the table and fidgeting with his fork He couldn’t bear the thought that he had disappointed Pepper after she had put her trust in him. May put a hand over his and squeezed it.

“That was crazy tech, looked like something straight outta’ Tony’s mind.” Sam said his voice tinged with admiration, but the comment was like a shard of glass to Peter’s heart. His breath hitched and he fought to swallow, fist closing on the handle of his utensil.

“I have no doubt that Mr Stark Junior will be able to think something up, Tony was always good at doing things at the last second.” Nick Fury said nonchalantly, throwing the comment out where it landed like a final, thudding blow to Peter’s chest.

Peter dropped his fork, trying not to let it clatter on the table and stood up. His chair screeched back, and Peter kept his eyes trained on the marble floor and the black lines that webbed across it.

“Honey?” May said grabbing the sleeve of his navy sweater as he turned from the table.

“Just getting some air, I’ll be back in a second.” Peter managed to get out, casting his aunt a smile so that she wouldn’t feel the need to follow him.

Every instinct was telling Peter to run from the room as everyone remained quiet and he felt the gazes of their eyes trained on his retreating form. Peter ducked around the corner and followed the first-floor corridor, running a hand over the glass to try and ground himself. He knew the hallways were designed to be this open and he’d purposefully asked for all the glass to let the light in, but somehow it all still managed to feel cramped.

Finally, Peter reached the door to the outside courtyard and Pepper’s meticulously curated garden. As soon as he was out the door, he breathed a deep sigh of relief, his breath shuddering as he did. Walking slowly, Peter made his way over to a bench that was in the middle of the garden. He knew that from here everyone in the kitchen wouldn’t be able to see him and that he could get a little bit of peace out amongst the flowers and the trees.

It was the first time that Peter had gotten to actually enjoy the beauty of the small garden and he marvelled at the calming atmosphere as he felt the tension slowly begin to leach out of him. Peter followed the mossy stone path to a little clearing with a rickety bench that was perched on a path of grass before the little stream that gurgled along happily. He sat and tilted his head back against the sunlight peering down through the compound, a welcome warmth to combat the November chill.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening anymore. He was supposed to be well, to be fixed. He hadn’t had a panic attack in months and yet here he was, the mere mention of Tony setting him off. He figured the rest of the team would be a littlemore considerate, especially considering Morgan and Pepper were there. Peter had half expected someone to make a speech at the beginning of lunch but instead there had just been awkward silence once they had all sat down, no one ready to make the first move or willing, it seemed, to discuss what they were reallythankful for this holiday. It was quiet until Carol had started cutting up one of the turkeys, using her powers to make the skin a little crispier, much to Rhodey’s outrage. Perhaps they had all moved on and Peter was the only one left in the past.

Peter had only just managed to stave the panic off as he sat there, focusing on the sharp jut of the wooden bench in the back of his knees and the way the sun felt against his head and the sound of the bubbling stream, which still managed to flow so eagerly despite it only running the length of the small garden.

How on earth had he forgotten the Stark Expo? The thought was eating relentlessly at his mind and he tried not to freak out. It had been in his calendar for weeks, weeks he should have spent preparing. The Stark Expo wasn’t just a showcase of all the new projects that Stark Industries had coming out in the new year, it was the celebration of technology and ingenuity of the employees – and more importantly, this year it would be a sign of hope for the coming year, a new leaf. The fact that Peter had even been invited to present something was incredible and he was determined not to let Pepper down.

But somehow, he couldn’t help feeling like he already had.

#spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #Peter Parker #post endgame #doesn't correlate with ffh #thanksgiving with the avengers #Peter Parker needs a hug #Morgan stark #may parker #carol danvers

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buckygirl-fanfiction · 7 years

Text

Sparks Chapter 20

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from the avengers team

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Sad stuff happens.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 67,000 words. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know

March 23, 2016

y/n’s POV

“You cut your hair!” I hear Bucky yell from across the lab. The sudden noise rips me from my computer screen and I turn to look at the source of the sound. I spot a couple startled interns turning their heads back to whatever they were doing and for a second i’m startled as well. I’ve been so focused on work I can’t remember the last time I looked up from the screen in front of me. During the time it takes for me to gather myself Bucky is already across the lab floor and by the little desk i’m working at. He picks at my hair and I lean back away from his noisy fingers.

“Yes,” I say casually. I cut it a couple days ago, I think… I Can’t really remember days now. But I was bored and walking home and passed a hair salon and for no good reason I found myself going in. An hour later I was left with short hair just resting past my chest and a pang in my heart, as least I felt something. I missed my rapunzel hair it was apart of me. But oh well, it took too long to take care of anyways.

“Why!” Bucky says back to picking at my now shorter strands.

“I don’t know…” I say a little annoyed at the intrusion. I have to admit I have been consciously avoiding him since St. Patrick's day, again for no good reason. “Why are you here?”

“I haven’t seen much of you lately,” he says trailing off.

“I know busy, busy. Can’t talk.” I say trying to shoo him away.

“Alright… well are you okay?” He asks his expression sinking for a second.

“Yeah, i’m fine. You gotta go. You’re distracting me.” I say and turn back to my screen.

“Umm, sorry. I’ll see you around? Maybe Dinner later?” he asks genuinely.

“Yeah sure maybe…” I say trying to get rid of him. I hear his footsteps fade away as he resigns himself and I do feel bad. I really do. But I don’t FEEL it. I know I should and for a second I think I do, but not really. Whatever…

March 25, 2016

2am

y/n’s POV

“Are you crazy!” he yells at me from the other side of the conference table. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

I roll my eyes and that’s my only response.

“Alright, let’s all calm down,” Wanda says.

“She could have fucking died,” Bucky continues to yell. “Who let her past the checkpoint?”

“I did,” I say narrowing my eyes at him. “I disabled it didn’t I?”

“y/n when there’s a fucking bomb with your name on it you don’t fucking go near it!” he continues to yell.

“Well I didn’t see anyone else disarming it…”

“The plan was to clear everyone then send in the techs! Not you!”

“Your plan was stupid…”

“You’re the one that’s acting stupid! Do you have any regard for personal safety!” The thing was I didn’t… Well not at the moment at least. I saw a way to save a lot of lives and I took a calculated risk.

“Can I go now?” I say turning towards Tony who has his face buried in his tablet.

He looks up when he realises the question is directed too him and says, “Sure, the disarmed bomb is in your lab. The sooner you get started on it the…” Tony’s words are cut off by Bucky’s firm voice.

“She’s going home. To get some fucking sleep,” God I didn’t know he cursed this much.

“For a second I almost thought you were my boss,” I say laughing. I make my way towards the glass door and pull it open. For a moment I expect him to follow me out and drag me back to my apartment. But he doesn’t.

I’m at the lab photographing and noting everything before I begin to take this latest monstrosity apart. Scrolled across the front are the words: ‘For Dr. y/l/n’ in red spray paint. What a theatrical touch I think to myself. Whoever made this clearly has the flare for the dramatic. Come on picking a hospital… That’s a low blow even for terrorists. I yawn and put the camera down. I should be able to deconstruct this in a couple hours.

…

The sound of my phone ringing tears me from my precious sleep. I squint my eyes picking up my head from my desk. I must've dozed off. I look at my clock and it reads 3.46pm. The last thing I remember was Cho bringing me breakfast, which is still lying in its box on my desk. My phone continues to ring and I snap myself awake and look at the screen. It’s Olivia. I yawn and say hello in a scratchy voice.

On the other end I hear cars and sirens? “y/n” I hear Olivia say in a shaky voice.

“Whats up?” I ask.

“Dr. y/l/n can you stop this one in time?” I hear her say struggling to push out the words. For a fraction of a second nothing seems to compute. Then it clicks.

Bucky’s POV

“Let me go!” she screams, “I have to go.” But the grip I have on her is stronger than even she is. She puts up a good fight but I have to do this. Even if I have to save her from herself.

I see Steve run towards Olivia. The short women looks even smaller from a distance. She’s clutching her baby to her chest and sitting on a chair in the middle of Time Square. The area has been cleared and sealed. Not even a overzealous cop or noisy reporter could get in. “She’s on a pressure pad.” Steve’s voice comes in through my earpiece. “I can’t take the child, the change in weight might trigger it.” y/n continues to struggle against my hold cursing my very existence.

“I’m sending the tech in now,” Tony’s voice comes in through my com. Before I can respond I feel a sharp pain in my shin and for a second I loose my grip on y/n. Just a second. That’s all it ever takes doesn’t it. She slips from my grip and runs towards her friend. This is a message and it was meant for her. There’s a bright flash of orange and red and black. I see Steve’s body fly back. Then I hear a scream. A gut wrenching scream that tears at my heart.

…

Bucky’s POV

y/n has been quiet. The last thing I heard come out of her was that god awful agonizing scream. We’re back at the tower. I don’t want to leave her, but I want to check on Steve. He’s probably fine I know. But, the combined worry of everything is taking a toll on me. He’s only a couple doors down in one of the other rooms in the med bay but I can’t leave y/n. We’re waiting for Olivia’s husband and son. A team was sent to escort them here and a plan has been put into action for their extraction and exit. They are being flown out today to somewhere safe. “It’s just until this is over, okay?” I say trying to reassure her. I’m met with more silence. Not the calm silence one hears during the moments after a trauma but the eerie silence that envelops people when they’ve been truly broken.

After what feels like eternity I finally get the green light. Olivia’s husband, Mark, and Ben finally arrive at the tower. They’re escorted up to the med bay and I see Ben through the glass doors. He’s carefree and smiling running circles around his father as he walks towards the room lead by Carter. I step forward and open the door. They don’t know. They haven’t been told and y/n isn’t in any state to do it. That leaves me doesn’t it? It leaves me to break a family’s heart.

y/n’s POV

Not a lot registers. I remember Cho shining a light in my eye and asking how I felt. I didn’t reply. Then flashes of a car ride. Even when Ben runs up to say hi, I don’t register it. It’s not until he leans against my knees that I realize he’s there and as soon as I do, as soon as I feel him, I push off my chair onto my knees and pull him into my embrace almost crushing him. I vaguely hear Bucky talking and another man’s voice but nothing else registers.

I miss her with all my heart, with all my soul, and if I had anything more to miss her with I would. The pain I feel now is searing and not even my hold on Ben is enough to keep me from losing myself to it.

A moment later I feel him torn from me by a pair of strong hands i’m too weak to fight. “Let go of my son.” Those are the first words I really register since the explosion. “This is your fault!”

“No please,” is all I can manage to push out. Even that I don’t say consciously, it just involuntarily slips out of my mouth. “Ben!”

“You’ll never see him again!” I’m having a hard time seeing reality but I know Mark is gone now and I think the shock finally hits me.

I keep thinking, no you’re stronger than this. But my breathing is ragged and i’m hyperventilating and I feel Bucky’s hands grasp my shoulders. He is saying something that I can’t quite hear past the rush of blood pumping through my ears. “Sed… Seda… Sedate me! Get Cho!” I scream past the fog that is suddenly becoming my new reality. I hear, more than see, Bucky leave the room. But that’s going to take too long. I push myself off the floor and stumble over to the cabinets. I pull a drawer open and find a syringe full of what i’m looking for. I stick myself in the arm and push the plunger down not caring about the dose i’ve just injected myself with. I just want to sleep.

Bucky’s POV

I run outside the room, leaving y/n for no more than a second, to get Cho. But that’s all it ever takes isn’t it? A second. When we come back in she’s on the floor and I feel a piece of myself shatter.

#bucky smut #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader

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sevenkookiejars · 7 years

Note

“We’re both in the vegetable isle and I just burst into tears while staring at the cabbages” + namjin? 👀

Pairing: NamjinPrompt: “We’re both in the vegetable isle and I just burst into tears while staring at the cabbages” AURating: PGWord Count: 1,726 A/N: I got carried away writing this so for the sake of everyone’s dash, I’ll put half of it under the cut ^~^ (p.s. the cute/fluff stuff is near the end, so read this all the way through!)

This probably isn’t the best idea Seokjin has had but while some people drink away their pain or indulge in retail therapy, grocery shopping has always been the best sort of comfort for him. Which is why Seokjin finds himself welcoming the blast of warmth from the 24-hour hypermart’s interior as he steps through its sliding doors.

Except it’s past 1am and Seokjin’s probably drank one shitty mix too many and he feels a little less in control with the alcohol running through his system.It isn’t Hoseok’s fault for dragging him out of his apartment to a party though. Seokjin understands, really, because he’s been a moping mess if he says so himself, and Hoseok is one of those people who finds comfort in loud music and bad alcohol.

“It’ll be fun, hyung” was Hoseok’s response to Seokjin’s weak excuse of “I don’t party”. And Seokjin’s grateful for a friend like Hoseok, even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy parties, because Hoseok’s trying to cheer him up and comfort him in the only way he knows how.

“Who knows, it might be good for you, you know?” Hoseok’s tone was light but Seokjin still caught his meaningful gaze, heavy with concern. He pretended not to have noticed it.

Hoseok took it upon himself to bring drinks over in the next few hours at Jackson’s place, seating himself down to accompany Seokjin instead of joining the mess of bodies on the makeshift dance floor. Seokjin tried to lose himself in casual conversations with strangers and overbearing music, but three hours in and he’s had enough.

He convinced Hoseok that he was tired and wanted to catch some rest, insisting that Hoseok stayed on to enjoy the party. Shrugging on a single heavy coat, Seokjin then stepped into the darkness of night to make his way across the wintry streets.

But of course, the mart with its bright lights and toasty heating distracted Seokjin, which is how he ends up inside, a basket in one hand, walking towards the fruit and vegetables section. It’s Grocery Day tomorrow anyway (or today to be exact, since it’s past midnight), and Seokjin figures there’s no harm doing it a little early.

The familiarity is comforting and at this time, it’s almost void of customers. Seokjin takes his time, steps still a tad sluggish from drinking as much as he did. He picks up bananas first, before moving to select some apples. The fruits look pretty good this winter despite the early chill, and Seokjin’s glad he can keep up with his whole “an apple a day” ritual. Hoseok laughs at him for it but Seokjin’s adamant that it’s what keeps him from catching a cold when the seasons change.

He’s just picked up two packets of Brussels sprouts and is turning around to see what other vegetables he feels like buying when he sees it. The section with a whole lot of cabbages on display.

Seokjin freezes. No, not now. He can feel the lump in his throat growing and Seokjin fights to swallow it back down. This isn’t the right time and definitely not the right place for this kind of flashback.

No, Seokjin tells himself sternly, but his body doesn’t exactly obey his mind with the alcohol running through him, and he feels tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. His vision blurs and Seokjin stands helpless as hot tears flow freely. It’s pathetic how affected he is even after two weeks. He can’t control the tears, so he only hopes that the cashier doesn’t hear him in the quiet of this enclosed space.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there sobbing as quietly as he can. Maybe it’s a few minutes, or something much longer, but there’s a tap on his shoulder and Seokjin glances up out of reflex.

“Hey, you alright there?” There’s a boy who looks about Seokjin’s age frowning a little at him in concern.

Seokjin blinks back at him through swollen eyes, sniffs once, twice, before coming back to his senses. Turning his face away, Seokjin hastily swipes at his eyes before muttering a soft “yeah, sorry”.

“Here.” The boy extends a pack of tissues into his line of sight and Seokjin hesitates before taking it. “I was passing through this aisle and saw you crying so I figured I’d… you know, see if you’re fine."

His voice is low and gentle, somewhat comforting in Seokjin’s mess of thoughts and he finds himself calming down a little. Seokjin ducks his head again in apology, not trusting his voice at this point (he might just break down again if he opens his mouth).

"Hey, you look kind of familiar,” the boy starts again, and Seokjin almost snorts at that despite his teary state. If that’s a pick-up line, it’s probably one of the worst he has heard. Seokjin hazards a glance at the boy to find him staring back, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Seokjin’s about to retort with something when the boy’s eyes light up. “Oh! You’re the lead role in last year’s theater production, senior Kim Seokjin?” At Seokjin’s dazed nod, the boy smiles, dimples showing. “My roommate Taehyung has been gushing about how great a senior you are."

Of course it has to be Kim Taehyung that’s roommates with this guy. Great, so Seokjin possibly just threw his reputation that he’s worked hard to earn down the gutter. Because if Taehyung’s roommate over here spills whatever happened today to Taehyung, half the faculty’s going to know about it by the next week.

Seokjin holds back the urge to collapse dramatically to the floor (it’s not his fault that he’s a theater major). Instead he lets out an oddly strangled "thank you”.

The boy, oblivious to Seokjin’s internal struggles, continues with growing excitement evident in his voice. “Taehyung says you’re really good at acting, and that you’re really nice and are always teaching your juniors."

He’s starting to gesture exaggeratedly, all hesitance lost. Cute, Seokjin thinks, before catching himself, because hold on a second, wasn’t he still sobbing over his ex just a few minutes ago?

”… and Taehyung also says you’re an amazing at cooking.“ Seokjin stiffens at that, eyes automatically darting back to the cabbages. He can feel the waterworks starting again, even as he wills himself not to cry.

"Hey,” the boy stops rambling. Somewhere at the back of his mind, an irrational part of Seokjin thinks that he kind of really misses his voice already. A sob escapes his lips and Seokjin tries to muffle it with the sleeve of his coat. There’s a hand on his arm now, touch light and hesitant. “I’m sorry, Seokjin-ssi, I must have said something wrong."

Seokjin shakes his head in disagreement, taking a shaky breath. Because this boy has been nothing but nice and sweet to a random stranger that is Seokjin (aside from hearing about him through Taehyung). It’s probably nearly 2am now and Taehyung’s roommate was probably just dropping by to grab something. He can very well be in bed sleeping right now if not for Seokjin, and yet here he is. So really, as cliched as it sounds, it’s not him but Seokjin that’s the problem, and Seokjin really should get that out to him to take away that frown of concern on his features.

But as always, Seokjin and alcohol means that his mind and everything else just don’t cooperate. "My ex broke up with me because he hated my cabbage kimchi,” Seokjin blurts in place of a “I’ll be fine, I’m sorry for taking up your time”.

The boy blinks once, twice. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

And Seokjin really should shut up right now, but his mouth decides against it. After all, it’s about food. Food and cooking, and Seokjin without alcohol can’t shut up about that, let alone his mildly inebriated self. “I wanted to surprise him with my kimchi stew but he said it was too bland and horrible and that he hated it. Hated my cooking,” Seokjin says queitly. “I swear I stored the kimchi over the last winter though."

Seokjin knows he’s whining by now. Hoseok chides him teasingly for it but Seokjin really can’t help it, especially when it’s about his cooking. But now that he’s done it again, Seokjin feels a flush creeping up his neck, embarrassment setting in two paces too late. Belatedly, Seokjin realises that he not only offloaded his sob story on a stranger, but also came out to him. Great job, Seokjin, great job.

"He doesn’t know how much he’s missing out then.” Seokjin glances up, surprised. The boy’s gaze is on him, steady and calm.

“What?” Seokjin says.

“I would never have broken up with you over homemade kimchi,” the boy replies. There’s a beat of silence, before the boy colors, eyes widening at the realization of the implication behind his words. “I-I mean, I uhh, Taehyung says you’re amazing at cooking, I can’t even trust myself with a stove and I only do microwaves so… umm… no, what I meant-”

This time Seokjin cuts him off with a hand around the boy’s wrist. The boy’s ramble trails off and Seokjin smiles the first real one he’s had in two week. As much as Seokjin loved the boy’s calming presence before, he finds this flustered side of him undeniably adorable. God, he’s got it bad this time, and it isn’t even the alcohol thinking, Seokjin is sure.

“I’ve still got some kimchi for stew left,” Seokjin starts. “And my apartment is in the block next door. Care to join me for supper?"

The boy locks gaze with Seokjin, surprise evident on his face. "You’d cook for me?"

Seokjin nods, grinning despite the tightness in his cheeks from crying. "Come on, let me grab a few things and we can head back. By the way, I never got your name."

"Kim Namjoon, sophomore, English major” the boy says. “And you’re saving me from microwavable mac and cheese.” Seokjin laughs at that and Namjoon flashes him a dimpling smile. Seokjin thinks he can definitely get used to a smile like that.

“Call me hyung,” he replies. “And you’re helping me with my English script in exchange for the free food."

Seokjin decides then that this grocery run, is maybe the best idea Seokjin has had.

A/N: This prompt honestly caught my attention when I first looked at the prompt list because it’s kind of funny and cute all at once, so thank you so much annonie for choosing this prompt! (and namjin!! bc awkwardly-cute and kind namjoon is too hard to resist ♡)

Send me a prompt and a bangtan pairing, I’ll write you a short fic ♡

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #jinseoknet #rapmon-net #rapperlinenet #replies #anon #namjin #namjoon #seokjin #storyboard #bts #bangtan #bts fanfic #i'm sorry if i'm not that good at fluff stuff #i'm not sure if i did this prompt justice >_<

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