#(A N Y W A Y Drops caps into my blog for ME)

[shuadotcom]

Hate U | JHS (M)

→ Summary: Your relationship with Hoseok wasn’t that serious. It was just fun and casual until the realization that you’re catching feelings for him hits you hard. The only rational thing to do is to avoid him… that is until you can’t anymore.

→ Pairing: CEO!Hoseok x Female!Reader

→ Genre & AU: Angst, smut, pwp, friends w/benefits au, office au, ceo au

→ Rating: 18+ | R (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

→ Warnings: Profanity, weed, alcohol, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, squirting, oral (male receiving), cumshot, Sir!kink

→ Words: 5.2k

→ Note: Written for the Suits & Ties collab hosted by @sugakookitty​! Songspo: I Hate U - SZA

Thank you to @yutasthetic​ for being a wonderful beta reader and to @sugakookitty​ for making this amazing banner!! Took me a few months to even get my brain working to write again but here she is in her angsty smutty glory!

“Hey, Y/n, are you coming out to grab dinner with us?” Victoria’s dark hair cascades over your computer screen as she leans over her cubicle wall into your space. Frowning, you shake your head.

“Nah, I have a very important meeting, remember?” You roll your eyes as you repeat the words your boss said to you during lunch. You, Victoria, and another co-worker were eating lunch in the cafeteria when Hoseok, in all his uber friendly, sunny CEO glory, found you and asked (see: demanded) you stay late for a critical meeting about a project you’re in charge of.

“Oh damn, that’s right. You’re going to the principal’s office,” Victoria teases. “Do you think he’ll tell you to scrap the whole project?”

“He better fucking not. I’ll quit if he does.” But, of course, you won’t, which Victoria knows, but not for the reason she thinks.

She makes another detention joke before promising to take a shot for you and saying goodbye. Your smile drops as you watch Victoria and a few other co-workers gather and head out of the office. A handful of others file out after a few minutes, and soon you’re all alone.

If you sit up and look directly across the room, you can see Hoseok’s closed office door. The light from within peers through the closed slots of the blinds, and you have to build yourself up to finally decide to head over.

Victoria and everyone else believe the words he said earlier about going over one of your projects but you know it’s a lie. You’ve been avoiding his calls and texts for a week and anytime he’d try and corner you in the office, you managed to dodge him, except for today.

Your knock on his door resonates through the silent space, causing you to flinch slightly. You try twice more before deciding to just go in, turning the cold knob with a deep breath.

Stepping into the warmly lit office, you immediately see Hoseok on the balcony of his office, the glass door shut as he leans against the rail. His cellphone is to his ear and when he spots you, he holds a finger up to you, indicating that he’ll be a minute as he continues to chat away on the phone.

Shutting and locking the door behind you, you make yourself comfortable on the cloth couch in the room, fidgeting as you watch him. His suit jacket is off, his white silk button-down and tie both loose on his body, billowing in the light breeze outside.

Hoseok plucks a lit joint from the ashtray balancing on the railing in front of him and takes a long drag. He holds the smoke in his chest as he makes a few nods of acknowledgment into the phone. He tilts his head back and blows perfect smoke rings up to the sky.

The sight is reminiscent of your ill-fated meeting with your boss during last year’s office holiday party.

“I need some air, I’ll be back,” You called over your shoulder, waving goodbye to Victoria and a few other co-workers on the dancefloor. Your company had rented out an entire event hall for your holiday party complete with an unlimited cap on the bar, a TV chef in the kitchen, and a well-known DJ playing nothing but bangers.

It was the most fun you’ve had at any company-sponsored event in your whole working career, but a breath of fresh air was needed. You couldn’t help but grab glasses of champagne, one for now and a second for later, on your way to the furthest balcony door for a few moments to yourself.

Inhaling as you open the door, you anticipated the crisp December air to hit your nose, but instead, the smell of weed is the first scent you encountered. It didn’t take any time at all before you saw none other than your boss’ boss, CEO Jung Hoseok staring back at you, wide-eyed.

Both of you froze, eyeing one another. You with two glasses of champagne in hand and him with a blunt dangling from his mouth.

“Hey,” he said, quickly overcoming his shock and flashing you one of his infamous, infectious smiles.

“Hi.” You couldn’t help but offer a grin in return.

He didn’t object as you walked over to join him and relaxed as you leaned on the balcony next to him, looking out at the city lights below.

“You smoke?” He asked casually.

“Yeah.” You offered him one of your glasses in exchange and he eagerly nodded, swapping the glass for his weed.

It didn’t take long before the two of you fell scarily easy into conversation. Only a few puffs had you feeling relaxed and coupled with the top-shelf drinks you’d been sipping all night, it felt less like you were talking to your boss and more like flirting with a charming stranger.

You had been with the company for almost a year and still didn’t know much about the man who ran it. All you knew was what the press knew: he and his family moved to America from South Korea when he was in elementary school and he started this company with his college roommate.

Hoseok quickly fixed that, making it clear that he’s an oversharer when he’s not sober. He told you all about his sister, who’s a fashion designer, his parents who own a successful chain of Korean restaurants across the country, and how he accidentally launched this million-dollar tech start-up because he was bored of dealing weed on the side of his shitty part-time college job.

You learned more about Jung Hoseok in the span of thirty minutes than you had since you started working here but you don’t mind. Typically, people that talk too much about themselves were an instant turn-off, but Hoseok was just too funny, captivating, and too unfairly handsome that you let it slide.

At some point in the night, you moved close enough that your sides were touching and his hand started to wander to your hips. From there, his hand found all of your curves and dips and you admired just how strong he felt beneath his shirt. You still don’t remember who moved first, but when the champagne glasses were empty and all of the weed was gone, you moved on to each other’s mouths, tongues intertwined and fists full of formal attire.

Your night ended in you fucking your CEO in an empty bathroom stall, mouth shoved full of his tie to muffle the feral moans he forced out of you.

Hoseok laughs loudly and abruptly on the balcony, the sound like a melody as it cuts your reminiscing short. He glances your way then, sending you a wink, promptly flustering you as you avert your eyes.

Your reaction serves as a reminder of how things between you and Hoseok changed after last year’s party. He went from just the boss to your friend with benefits.

During your 5 day work week, Hoseok continued to be his notorious, overtly friendly self to everyone as normal, but behind closed office doors and dark hallways, he was shoving his hands into your panties and cumming down your throat.

Work hookups shifted to after-work hookups which turned further to weekends spent at Hoseok’s condo having sex and getting high and you were more than happy with it at first until you begrudgingly began to feel more than lust stirring for him.

The more time together you spent together, the more you learn all about Hoseok and his quirks, his likes, dislikes, and overly flirty tone aside, there isn’t much you dislike about him. For the past six months, his presence was a staple in your day-to-day life and you hated that you can’t see yourself without Hoseok somewhere in it.

This is why you’ve been avoiding him. It was your last-ditch effort to combat the growing fondness in your heart for Hoseok. It doesn’t seem to work particularly well, but any progress will surely be halted tonight. It’s clear Hoseok knows you’re purposely staying away from him, and he’s likely to make you pay for it.

“Hey, Y/n, sorry about that,” Hoseok leaves the balcony door open as he comes in, tucking his phone in his pocket. “Yoongi needed to go over some last-minute numbers for the merger.” You nod along as he mentions his newest potential business partner, eyes fixating on his every move as he beelines to his office mini-bar, pouring you both drinks.

He turns towards you, grinning from ear to ear as he moves across the room drinks in hand.

“Thank you,” you take the glass from him and sip. Your favorite wine. “So what did you want to see me about?” You try your damndest to sound casual.

It doesn’t work and Hoseok sets his drink down next to him so he can drape his arm over you. His fingers dance across your bare shoulder as he takes a hit of his still lit blunt before answering.

“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t know. Why exactly have you been avoiding me?”

“Have I?” Hoseok looks at you, clearly not buying your faux ignorance.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/n. I’ve had a shit day and wanted to finally spend time with you,” he sighs, blowing a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. “I don’t know how I survived all week without you and your beautiful pussy.”

You force out a snort to hopefully hide the sound of your heart racing. “He’s just being flirty. Don’t take it seriously.” Hoseok, the always positive always flirty man that he is. Always making you laugh and making you feel more special than anyone else he's seeing and sometimes you let yourself be delusional and think he really means it.

Shaking off the butterflies, you snatch the blunt from him, taking a long drag and passing it back. “It was only a week. I was just busy is all.” You shrug, trying desperately to be on guard. It doesn’t last long as the fingers on your shoulder trail down to graze your nipple through your shirt and you jump.

“Well, now it’s just you and me here so you can be busy with me.” His voice is a trap: laced with sugar, spice, and everything naughty that you know him to be capable of.

“Wow, so you’re that into me huh?” It’s a joke to his ears of course, but you wish more than anything he’d say yes and truly mean it.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” The way he says it makes your hands clammy and you instinctively wipe them on your skirt.

Hoseok leans forward to place soft kisses on your face and neck as nimble fingers trail lower until they’re playing with the buttons on your blouse, undoing each one painfully slow. When he gets the fabric open and slips it off of your shoulders, his fingers are warm as they graze over your bra, brushing against your already hardening nipples.

“You smell so good. You always smell so good,” he mumbles between kisses on your neck. It’s embarrassing how quickly the icy wall you’ve been building to push him and your feelings for him away gets melted into a pathetic puddle. With each kiss, each nibble, each flick of your nipples, you relax in his arms more and more until you’re panting and pushing your body closer to him.

No one should be able to have you like this, yet here is Jung Hoseok, driving you absolutely crazy in every sense of the word.

Once he skillfully undoes your bra and tosses it aside, he takes a long, ring decorated finger and slips under your skirt, rubbing you softly over your panties and it’s enough to have you almost leap off the couch.

“Just as sensitive as always I see.” He muses, clearly enjoying how you fall apart at the mere touch of his finger against your clit. Hoseok reaches under your skirt completely, teasing your entrance momentarily before slipping inside.

“Oh fuck,” gasping, you drop your head onto his shoulder, inhaling his familiar Hoseok scent of weed and woody Hermes cologne.

He presses kisses along your forehead as he fucks you with one finger, then plunges another in. His other hand hanging around your shoulders inches down to roughly squeeze and play with your breasts. Your eyes slip close as you mewl out Hoseok’s name, barely keeping your grip on your half-full glass of wine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. A beautiful girl making all these beautiful noises just for me.” His words drip with a sweetness that only serves to drive you crazier until your hips are moving in tandem with his hand, rushing you embarrassingly further to an orgasm. He’s fucking you hard with his fingers, easily rubbing against your g-spot with the push and pull of those talented painted digits.

“H-Hoseok I’m so close…”

“Cum then, baby. Cum for me, all over my fingers.” The timber of his voice, egging you on is enough to make you whimper his name and do exactly what he tells you to. Warm pricks of pleasure ripple through you, the tightly wound coil inside you releasing as you ride out your orgasm, Hoseok helping you through it with gentle caresses against your core.

“Such a good girl.” Hoseok always praises you when you’re together, but after avoiding him like you have this bout of praise shoots straight to your heart and ricochets straight to your pussy.

Looking up, you make eye contact with the man you want so desperately not to love. His face is flush as he glances back at you and he licks his lips. You already know he wants so much more from you and you want to give it to him.

You don’t think twice before you lean up and kiss him, pressing your lips together with desperation. Hoseok kisses back immediately, and the hand that was on your breast moves to cup your face with a gentleness that you hope he reserves only for you. Hoseok kisses with just as much passion as he fucks with. He licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue, and glides his lips against yours as though he was always meant to kiss you and only you (which you know isn’t true but you like to pretend).

“Missed this pretty little mouth so much,” he breathes out when he pulls away to take your lip between his teeth. “Wanna use it and show me you missed me?” Hoseok frames it as a question, but you already know it’s more of a command than anything.

Without hesitation, you pull away and empty your glass in one go, then proceed to make your way to the floor in front of him. The white shag rug is soft under your knees and you try to focus more on that than the thumping of your heart. Hoseok sits above you, legs spread as he unbuttons his shirt, opening it to showcase his smooth, sculpted body.

Your hands make quick work of undoing his belt and fishing out his hard cock. You groan at the sight of him, hard and hot, leaking pre-cum for you.

“Mmm, someone’s eager. Missed my cock that much huh?” He smirks down at you before taking another puff of his blunt.

“Yes I did,” you pout and you mean it in more ways than one. Leaning forward you lap at the head of his cock, his hips jerking immediately at the contact. You don’t hesitate to begin sucking him off with the utmost sense of urgency. You want so badly for him to fuck you and can’t even feel ashamed.

“Fuck, Y/n, ” Hoseok throws his head back against the couch. “Just like that.” Large hands reach down to grip your head, stroking your cheeks, forehead, anywhere Hoseok can reach.

His cock is heavy and hot on your tongue, his pre-cum dripping down your throat. You revel in the taste of Hoseok and the way he chants your name over and over again. It only spurs you on to suck him down even sloppier, spit pooling in the corners of your mouth and dripping onto your breasts. You gag each time you take him in, but you won’t stop until he tells you to.

“Let me fuck your face, baby girl.” Going lax almost immediately, you release your hold on his length, and let Hoseok adjust to start thrusting up into your mouth at his own speed. His fingers press into your scalp and it hurts in the most delicious way possible.

Tears prick your eyes as his cock slams into the back of your throat over and over again, having you choking and gagging with each movement. Fuck, you love it when he’s rough with you. It helps you stay away from romanticizing him, only some of the time.

Hoseok is never quiet about the way you pleasure him and this is no exception. Hums and huffs and words of praise come from him, each one having you clenching harder and aching for him even more.

As if he knows how much you’re anticipating him, which he likely does, he pulls out of your throat suddenly and cups your head as you pant for air. Hoseok gazes down at your debauched state and leans down to kiss you again, keeping your lips locked as he stands you up and walks you over to his desk. He keeps you in his hold as he fishes in one of his desk drawers for what you assume is a condom.

Your lower back knocks against the wood, the molding pressing into your skin more the harder he kisses you. Any thought of avoiding him or pushing your feelings away is long since abandoned. If giving into Hoseok with a single kiss or a single grope makes you pathetic, then so be it. You’ll be pathetic for Hoseok as long as he never stops taking care of you the only way he can.

Hoseok pulls away first and turns you around, pressing himself against your back.

“Want you,” you rasp as he fondles your breasts from behind, placing kisses on your neck while he opens the square packet.

“Yeah, you want me?”

“Mmmm.”

“Fuck, I want you too. You kept yourself away from me for way too long.”

It’s easy for him to unzip your skirt and push it down your hips. Your panties come next, pooling with your skirt at your feet as he presses the pads of his fingers into the supple flesh of your ass. His skin is hot and sticky against yours, cock rubbing against your thighs, teasing you. The want for him is almost dizzying as your body buzzes with desire.

“You’re practically shaking for me, baby girl. You want my cock that bad, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod as you mumble to him, but it’s not enough. A heavy hand smacks your ass, the sting making you yelp.

“Not loud enough, baby,” he chuckles, another slap against your ass nearly has your knees buckling. “I’ll ask you again, you want my cock that bad?”

“Yes! Y-yes please.”

Another spank against your tender skin. “Yes, who?”

“Yes sir! I want your cock so bad, Sir!” On cue, you clench your thighs together, hoping the sight of you underneath him will spur him on.

“That’s better. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you better not forget your manners,” Hoseok tuts, following up with two more spanks, your ass burning in the best way possible from the impact.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” it’s a whisper as you momentarily recall your real feelings for Hoseok and why you’ve been trying to stay away from him, but all thought escapes you when Hoseok spreads your thighs, expertly finding your weeping pussy and shoves his cock into you. “Ahh!”

“There you go, baby. Keep making those pretty noises like that for me.” There’s a grin in Hoseok’s voice as his hands take hold of your hips. It’s easy to do as he says as he begins fucking you, rocking into you so hard you jolt into his desk over and over again.

There’s no fighting the way that Hoseok always knows how to make you feel good. He quickly learned all the places you like to be touched, the way you like to be kissed, and the positions you love to be fucked in the most. He knows you too well and you hate it - you hate him. You hate that he always knows you more than anyone.

Hoseok finds a tempo that can only be described as feverish. He’s making it clear that tonight is all about making up for the seven days you kept him away. Sometimes it’s slow and casual, both of you savoring one another and other times, like now, it’s nothing but a race to get off.

“I missed you all week, baby. Missed fucking you and touching you like this.” His words come out through gritted teeth as he plunges his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. He fucks the breath out of you over and over and over again, leaving you with only enough air to babble out what sounds like nonsense to you.

“I’m gonna ruin this filthy little pussy of yours,” another hard thrust. “I’m gonna make a mess of you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“I know you would. My dirty little cockslut. I’m gonna cream this little pussy.”

“Sir! Please I’m so close!”

“Already? Do I make you that fucking wet? That needy for me that you’re ready to cum so fast?”

“Y-yes. I’m so close. Gonna cum for you.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fat cock.” Hoseok’s words are lewd and his thrusts are rough and his hands are soft and it’s all too much.

Eyes screwing shut tight enough to hurt, you cum hard, screaming Hoseok’s name along with a flurry of ‘fucks’ and ‘pleases.’ You grasp at the desk underneath you to stay anchored as your knees completely give out under you, but Hoseok’s strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you upright. His hips don’t stop driving into yours and the pleasure quickly toes the line of pain as he doesn’t falter his pace at all.

“H-Hoseok, I - AHH!” Your sentence is cut off when Hoseok smacks your ass harder than earlier.

“What did you just say?”

“I - Sir! Sir, please I c-can’t!”

A teasing scoff reaches your ears. “Can’t or won’t?” Both of you know you can keep going, but your senses are even more on edge than before. You can feel every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls and every swing of his balls against you. His fingertips feel like needle pricks when he reaches down to toy with your clit.

“Sir!” Hoseok ignores your screeches and continues to rub your sensitive bud. You squeeze around him and a growl of your name leaves his mouth.

“Yeah, clamp down around my cock just like that. You’re gonna have to call off work tomorrow when I’m done with you. Gonna bruise this messy little cunt.” His words ring in your ears as he rocks against your body, plowing you further into the wooden desk. Skin slapping skin, Hoseok’s grunts, and the squelching of your juices echo in the room. For a moment you worry if anyone outside on the street below can hear you getting destroyed by your boss through his open balcony, but thoughts don't stay coherent in your mind for long.

“P-please…” you beg, your body tingling as your third orgasm creeps up.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby girl. So wet and tight for me. I love this pussy so much.”

“And I love you.” You can’t help but think. How can you even think something like that right now? You’re getting your guts rearranged and your heart has the audacity to jump at Hoseok saying the word love about you in any capacity.

The thought is thankfully fucked out of you with one particularly harsh thrust, Hoseok pushes a scream out of you. He drapes his large body over yours to fuck you deeper, his lips and teeth kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Sir… Hoseok, please…” You sound pathetic even in your own ears. The tone only serves to spur Hoseok on as he calls out your name, his voice husky and full of lust.

“You ready for me, baby? Ready for me to cum all over you?”

With clenched fists, you cry out a yes right as you cum again. Stars explode behind your clenched eyelids as your juices squirt all over Hoseok, covering you both. Your mouth opens but you can barely tell if you even make any noise.

“Fuck, yes, make a mess all over me. This pussy is all mine, I love it so much, fuck!” Hoseok moans with his whole chest, hip bones digging into the flesh of your ass seconds before he pulls out. You barely have any energy, but you manage to lean up on your elbows to look behind you and watch as Hoseok yanks off the condom and jerks himself off once, twice, then he’s cumming all over your ass, hot ropes of cum painting your sore skin.

At some point, tears had welled up in your eyes, realizing your cheeks are damp with both sweat and tears.

“Shit, you’re so good for me, baby. So messy with my cum all over you.” Hoseok smirks down at you, reaching up to swipe at your face. “Aw, I’m sorry I made my baby cry.” Whether the tears came from Hoseok or your overactive brain, you smile anyway, the gesture feeling fake but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, he stands up straight to stretch, your eyes following every muscle as it moves under his beautiful skin. He takes your hand and gently brings you to stand in front of his couch. Quickly, he grabs a few tissues and cleans the cooling cum off of your ass, then sits you down. He joins you after grabbing his earlier forgotten joint and relighting it. He hums as he scooches next to you still naked and takes a hit.

“You’re never allowed to leave me hanging that long again. Seriously, a week felt like a year.” He’s so casual with his words it makes you angry. The idea of him only missing sleeping with you whilst you missed every bit and piece of him feels unfair.

“Like, no one else I’ve been with ever makes me feel like you. Especially not this week. Like this one girl, I met up with the other night? Couldn’t give me a blowjob anywhere near as breathtaking as you. You’re the only one I wanna get high with and fuck.” You swat away his hand when he offers you his weed. How can he just sit here and say something so casual about fucking other people?!

“Goddamnit, Hoseok! You drive me fucking insane!” Your outburst surprises even you, but you can’t take it back now.

He blinks at you, truly clueless. “What did I do?!”

“You walk around the office laughing and smiling at every girl you see and I’ve even seen you flirting with them! How do you think that makes me feel?!”

“Oh come on, you know me, Y/n. I’m too fucking friendly for my own good.”

“Yeah, no shit! You do the same to me and it makes me so confused because you can go from fucking me stupid to talking about how you’ve fucked someone else. Sometimes I really hate you, you know. Like, do you know how all these mixed signals make me feel?!”

“Huh? Y/n, you know I like you right? You’re special to me and I always tell you that.”

“Yeah, Hoseok you do. And you tell me how much you love fucking me and eating me out and smoking with me and that’s always all it ever is with you!”

The words come out faster than you can stop them. The confusion on Hoseok’s face has you wishing the floor would open up and consume you already.

“Y/n, listen, I -”

“Actually, never mind.” You rush to gather your clothes, pulling your skirt on backward.

“Hey, wait I’m sorry if I hurt you or something. I just really like spending time with you. You’re special to me.”

But he doesn’t like you as more than what you are now. It’s obvious. He isn’t trying to hurt your feelings but it does hurt - so fucking much.

“Just forget I said anything, okay. Thanks for tonight.” Your buttons are done up haphazardly but you don’t want to cry in front of Hoseok so you leave it as is.

Before you can open the door, his hand is on yours, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn to him and anticipate his next words. “Let me know when you get home, okay?” His brown orbs are rimmed red, eyelids drooping as he watches you. If you’re lucky, he’ll be too high to remember you pouring yourself out to him and getting nothing in return.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get home safe.”

You’re out the door after that and it’s not until you’re out of the office, out of the building, and in your car do you let yourself cry. With blurred vision and a bruised heart, you make it home somehow.

Even after everything you text Hoseok, letting him know you’re safe.

[Hoseok] Good :)

He stops typing after that, then starts, then stops again. Wiping away the tears that refuse to dry, you hold your breath, waiting to see what else he possibly has to say.

[Hoseok] If you need to take tomorrow off, that’s fine. Sleep well.

That’s all he says. You feel empty. You haven’t gotten outright rejected like this since high school and it fucking hurts. Hurts so much more than any foolish school crush.

[You] Thanks.

Your night is somber as you silently go about your routine and climb into bed without dinner, no semblance of an appetite in sight. The only thing that haunts you is Hoseok which isn’t uncommon, but this time it’s not the positive, bright times with him. It’s the heartbreaking reality that you love him so much more than you thought you already did and now it just hurts.

Thinking of him and being with him, it’s like you’re swallowing glass and you can’t breathe at the mere thought of him. Tomorrow will be hell and seeing him in the office hallways will suffocate you, so you decide you won’t go in tomorrow. You’ll stay in bed and get a three-day weekend to yourself to wallow in self-pity.

Even so, in the back of your mind, you just know that come a new workweek, you’ll still go running to Hoseok’s office when no one is around. Hell, you wouldn’t even be surprised at yourself if you let him come to your apartment this weekend if he asks. In your love-drunk heart, you know that having Hoseok superficially is better than not having him at all, even if it contorts your heart in your chest. Even if it makes you hate him and hate yourself more for giving in, at the end of the day, you can’t help who you fall for; and you finally accept that you truly have fallen for Hoseok even though he doesn’t and may never, feel the same.

[lifesabe-ch]

this means war - billy r. and frank c. (part 6)

summary: this is a spin off from a movie (can anyone find the title? ;) starring Billy Russo and Frank Castle. In this AU, Billy isn’t a psycho, Frank’s family is alive, and they both really like coffee. And, y’know, Y/N.

pairings: Frank Castle x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader (actually both of them, i promise)

warnings: fragile male ego and sass

a/n: hi i’m admin A, aka @pitaparka, and this is my first post on this blog! we’ve been co-writing this for a while so it just seemed logical for me to hop on here as an admin! I probably won’t be doing any individual writing here (i write independently on my above blog, so if you like this blog, you should check that one out too ;), but if we’re doing any co-writing, it’ll probably be here. that’s all for now. later!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5

Billy accidentally locked the door to his apartment trying to get in from work. Which was concerning, considering he locked it this morning. If he could bet money on whether or not Frank was sitting on his couch—

He would have been wrong. Frank was sitting at his breakfast counter. Eating pizza.

Billy sighed loudly, “Did you at least save me some?”

Frank doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he slides the pizza box over to the empty seat next to him. 

Billy drops his keys on the counter, tosses his suit jacket there too, and loosens his tie before sitting down next to Frank.

“Mushroom and sausage,” he says, his eyes trained on the news playing on Billy’s television. 

They sit there silently eating pizza together. 

“I saw Y/N today.” Billy says. He can almost see Frank’s ears perk up.

“At work?” 

“No. The coffee shop. I dropped by, you know, to see her.” 

Frank nodded. 

Grinning, Billy nodded, “We’re going on date. Our first date, already.” He gets up from the breakfast bar to wipe off his hands. 

Quirking a brow, Frank chuckled, “Good for you man. Good for you.”

“Yeah. How are you two doing?” 

“We already had a date.” 

Watching as the grin immediately fell from Billy’s face, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? When?” 

“Last night.”

“No… you went on my date?”

“Your date?” Frank scoffed, sipping the beer he had in his hand, as he watched Billy pace. “It was my date, asshole. One too many hits to the head today?”

“I—You… That was my date!” Billy says, leaning on the breakfast bar.

“So why weren’t you on it?”  

 “W-what?” Billy asked. He takes a second to process it. “I was… at a meeting.”

“Sure. At eight o’clock at night?”

“Yes, at eight o’clock at night.” 

Frank shot him a look.

 “Some people have businesses.” He defends. 

Frank scoffed, “You have one business, Billy.”

“And you’re getting into my business, so watch it.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it, Russo? You gonna—”

“We need some rules.”

“Huh?” Frank asks. He gives Billy a look like Billy’s seen many times before. It basically slaps him upside the head and asks him how much he’s had to drink already. He retreats to the fridge to grab a beer. Get an early start on the night ahead of him. 

“What the hell are you on about, man?” Frank asks. He leans over the box and grabs another slice of pizza. 

“I don’t think we should tell her that we know each other.” Billy says. Frank looks at him. 

“What, like, stay out of each other’s way?” Frank takes the remote and turns the volume down on the TV.

“Yeah. Just let her decide.” 

“We’re already letting her decide,” Frank clarifies.

“No, I mean… no interruptions.”

Billy watches as Frank contemplates this whole thing. 

“Billy, you know you’re like a brother to me, man.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t do this—”

“No no no, I mean, I don’t want this… whatever this is to mess us up, okay?”

“Listen,” Billy starts, “have we ever let a girl come between us before?”

“We’ve never liked the same girl before.”

“I’m just saying…  If things get too tense, we can both back off, okay?”

Frank shakes his head. He lets out a sigh. 

“So we’re not getting in each other’s way.”

“No, Billy, we aren’t.”

“That pretty much settles it?”

“Yeah.”

Frank closed the pizza box, signifying the end of the conversation. 

“How was my date?” Billy asked, taking a drink from his beer.

“You mean my date.” Frank clarified, turning up the TV a little bit. 

“Well, I was the one who asked her. And I picked the restaurant. And the time.” 

“The restaurant? What restaurant?”

Billy stared at Frank in confusion. “Did you not… wait, where did you go?” 

“We went to Tina's Place. Off of 60th. The midnight one.”

“Oh. Why?” Billy picks at the label on his beer bottle that’s already starting to peel with condensation. 

“Because we were at the bar down the street.”

“You picked her up at a bar?”

“What does it matter, Russo? You’re losing anyway.”

“Frank, you’re this close to getting kicked out of my apartment.  Did you do anything?”

“No, Bill, we sat there and we stared at each other. All night.”

“You know what I’m asking.” Billy deadpanned.  

“We kissed.” 

“And?”

“And nothin’.” Frank huffed. 

“You went on my date and all you did was kiss?” Billy asked, incredulously. 

“More than you did,” Frank muttered, loud enough for Billy to understand the mischievous grin on his features. 

“Just wait until I get to go on my date, Frankie.” Bill declared, moving to toss the empty pizza box in the trash.

“If you even make it. Maybe I’ll get to go on that one too,” Frank said, chuckling. He gets up and grabs his phone off the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even check it before he slips it into his pocket and makes his way to the door.

“Oh I’m going on this date, Frank. It’s gonna be the best damn date of her life. She’s not even gonna remember who you are.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll see ya tomorrow, Billy,” Frank yells over his shoulder on his way out.

Billy sat, only the company of the TV to keep his apartment from complete silence. As much as he hated coming home to other people in his house, he didn't mind Frank all that much. Especially when he cleaned up after himself. Billy let his own beer bottle clank softly into the trash. He got to work on the dishes that were starting to pile up in his sink. He hated a messy apartment. 

With most of his household chores done, he broods on the couch over Frank’s dinner. His dinner, really. A missed opportunity. He wasn’t upset with her. He wasn’t even upset with Frank. He was more upset with himself, getting caught up like that. He fiddled with the remote. 

“Dinner. Saturday night. Eight o’clock.”

This was shaping up to be just like the situation he got himself in. He needed to do something else. Something drastic. If this was a race, Frank was winning. But that’s okay. Only for now. Slow and steady, Billy. Slow and steady.

He takes out his phone and sends a text. 

Hey, you free Saturday morning instead?

He doesn’t know what to do, so he stares at his phone. He imagines her, rolling her eyes and ignoring him. He cycles through some apps before he gets the notification from her.

uhhhh why?

Billy is awestruck. Why? He doesn’t know how to respond. Everything he comes up with sounds wrong. That’s not how he expected her to respond. 

“Because I want to take you for breakfast instead.” He types, but deletes it. That sounds too forward, like he has plans late on he doesn’t want to cancel for her.

“I just want to see you sooner.” Ugh. That’s the wrong side of creepy, not sweet.

He panics. He’s been typing and deleting for almost a minute. 

Why not?

 He sends.

I’m a coffee man, you know that

He sends again. He stares, and his messages pop up as having been read by her. He lets his fingers do a little dance over the keyboard, waiting to type out a reply.

you got me there

 She sends, and Billy smiles at his phone.

Sweet 

He sends back, and at the same time, she sends him,

still my place?

Billy ponders for a second. The ball is in his court.

Yeah. 9:30 sound good? He asks.

yup 

She shoots back immediately. He locks his phone and tosses it to the side, running his hands over his gelled hair. All is right in the world. But he needed to shower. Just then, he gets one more text. 

He thinks it’s Y/N, but it’s not. It’s Frank.

i left my hat at ur house

Billy ignores the message. 

“Even when he’s not here, he’s here,” Billy mumbles to himself. He sees Frank’s blue baseball cap sitting lonely under the chair where Frank sat. He ignores that too, in favor of a hot, steamy shower before bed. Frank will come get it eventually. Just not tonight.

tag list (respond to post or send ask to be added!):

@full-of-sins-not-tragedies, @harrysthiccthighss, @constellation---me, @editboutique, @achesiresmile, @ghastlygray, @muddleofmarvel​ , @starxdame​

[curlystom]

again — peter parker

{ in which peter tries to make things right again }

a/n: this was a second part to a fic i wrote 2 years ago, but i cannot for life of me find it. luckily this can be read as a stand alone piece! this is what i get for deleting my old blog. sigh. 

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst and fluff what’s new

MASTERLIST

The grey skies started to finally turn blue, leaving you wanting to do nothing but enjoy the fresh sunshine and freedom.

You hadn’t talked to Peter in 8 months. For some, 8 months was their entire relationship. For you, it felt like eternity. You had definitely cried yourself to sleep some nights and punched walls the next. To say you were a roller coaster of emotions was an understatement, but no one said break-ups were easy.

As the months went on, it became easier to go through the day without crumbling into a pool of tears. All of the memories you two made together became less vivid; however, it still hurt to visit all the places you two spent the most time. The park. The school parking lot. Your driveway. He was everywhere, but at the same time he wasn’t. 

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. Although for the disappointing weather, your parents still decided to run errands downtown for the day, leaving you to hear the pounding rain against your bedroom window by yourself. Not that you minded.

You were quietly flipping through the pages of the book you were reading before the doorbell interrupted. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, because who on earth would be outside in these conditions? Nonetheless, you reluctantly got out of bed and slowly made your way towards the front door. 

The blinds were open enough to shed the little amount of light from outside, but you could still see the grey clouds painted along the dark sky, as well as the small raindrops racing towards the bottom of the window. You hadn’t gotten a good look at outside all day, but the glimpse you saw before opening the door was enough to tell you that it was bad. The thought of who would be crazy enough to walk around the neighborhood in pouring rain crossed your mind as you shot the door open, and in that moment you knew you found the answer to your unspoken question. 

Peter’s hair was flat against his forehead, dripping the excess water against his tinted cheeks. Your eyes widened at the boy, who was hugging himself to keep warm. He looked like he had been outside for some time, which made you worried that he probably walked all the way here from his home. 

“P-Peter? What the fuck are you doing?” You dragged his shivering body behind you, making him loudly exhale at the temperature difference inside of your house. 

“I-uh… you k-know… I-I was in the neighborhood and thought I w-would s-stop by. H-holy s-hit… it’s  cold.” Peter chattered as he opened and closed his hands to regain feeling there. 

“Bullshit. You haven’t said anything to me in 8 months.” You spat out, clenching your teeth.

You knew he was lying. Even after your time apart, you were still able to see right through him, despite how much he’s changed as a person. Peter knew that as well. He also knew how caring of a person you were, which is why he wasn’t surprised when you sighed and handed him the closest blanket before running off into your room to grab a spare of Peter’s clothes you had recently found in your closet. 

“Damn it, Peter.” You muttered under your breath as you ran back downstairs and threw the clothes at Peter’s face. 

Him being the enhanced person he is, he dodged the crumpled clothes and caught it, forcing you to roll your eyes in annoyance. You almost forgot about his reflexes. “Go change in the bathroom. I’ll make you some soup to warm you up.”

Peter nodded before shrugging off the now damp blanket and heading to your bathroom. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you walked towards the kitchen. There was too much happening in your mind to process. Peter Parker was actually in your house, again. Never in a million years would you have dreamed that would happen. 

The scent of the boiling soup spread across the entire house, and Peter sighed in comfort once he was able to smell it from the bathroom. He hung his drenched clothes over the shower curtain pole before heading downstairs again. His lips formed into a small smile once he entered the kitchen, his presence surprising you as you turned around. 

Peter took a seat at the counter, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers as you poured his soup into his favorite bowl. He took notice of the small detail and smiled. 

“You remembered.”

You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised. “Like I could forget. You used to get mad at me for not using the right one.”

He stifled a laugh before finally accepting the soup you made. You took in his features, like you had done a million times. The freckles on his face remained the same, but the darkness under his eyes were more intense than you had remembered.

You frowned at the thought of him not getting enough rest. Peter was one to take care of others more than himself, but it was a characteristic about him that made you fall in love with him in the first place. In love, you thought. It seemed so long ago, when in reality it was still fresh. 

Peter slurped his soup in silence as you stared. You didn’t mean to, but quite frankly how could you not? The boy you fell in love with months ago, the same boy who broke your heart, was in front of you again as if nothing happened. The anger was building up inside once again, and you couldn’t help but clench your fists in frustration. 

He sensed it almost immediately, as usual. Peter always knew how you were feeling before you did, and he frowned as he felt your anger boil through your blood. He opened his mouth to speak but you held up your finger and interrupted his thoughts. He wasn’t about to get the first say in this when he had the last one.

“Nononono. You don’t get to do this.” You took a deep breath as your felt your eyes on the brink of slipping a few tears down your cheeks. 

You turned around so Peter couldn’t see how upset you still were, but he knew already. His heart began to ache at the sight of you falling apart. It never got easier for him to see you like that. 

“Y/N-” Peter stopped himself. The words he practiced as he walked to your place slipped from his mind. He thought about this moment for a long time. Talking to you again, seeing how you were holding up, it wasn’t as great as he would have hoped. You turned around, his eyes fixed on the soup in front of him. He didn’t dare to look up at you and see how broken he made you. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t care. If your eyes were weapons, they would have killed him in an instant. However, you knew it was best for the both of you to have this conversation civil, no matter how much you wanted to scream in his face and hit his chest rapidly. But you were better than that. 

“Why are you here, Peter?” You inhaled deeply. “And don’t give me some bullshit answer.” 

Peter built up the courage to look you in the eye for the first time since he walked in. You definitely looked better than he had expected. The bags under your eyes were less visible than what it used to be, and your skin had a fresh new glow to it. His face saddened knowing you were most likely better off without him. 

Being with him definitely added stress into your life, but you always reassured him that it was something you didn’t mind. However, seeing you here, happy and stress-free, made him wonder if you truly meant it. 

He stood up, immediately pacing back and forth as you mindlessly watched him. Peter always had to keep moving, especially when he became nervous. He puffed as his chest became tight, the nerves rushing throughout his body. “I-I miss you,” he mumbled. It was loud enough for you to hear, and it was all you needed. 

“No. No,” you cried out, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “Absolutely not. 8 months Peter. 8 fucking months! Y-you can move on with your life a-a-and continue to converse with my friends but you can’t have the decency to put any effort between us!?” The pent up frustration that was exponentially growing hit its cap, and you had no shame on popping off on him.

“You just fucking dropped me Peter! God, y-you just ended it out of nowhere! You made me think for months that it was my fault. T-that I was.. I was the one who pushed you away..” you gasped for air, throwing your hands in the air as you became closer to Peter. “But it wasn’t me. It wasn’t my fault, and it took me months for me to fucking realize that. And it’s not fair that you… you get to waltz back into my life like nothing happened.” Hot tears were definitely streaming down your face, all the anger and confusion you stored away was going towards the one person you’ve been wanting to let it out on. 

Loud sobs escaped your chapped lips as you hit Peter’s chest, his hands holding your arms to keep you from collapsing. He stood there and took it. He had anticipated this reaction even before he walked over and rehearsed what he was going to say. You were always known to be a physically emotional person, and Peter learned that quickly. The memories of you shaking uncontrollably, violently scratching your arms and rubbing your face because of your sobs were embedded in his mind, something that he sees glimpses quite often. 

The hits against Peter’s chest became weaker as your sobs started to become more and more quiet. “W-Why would… would y-you ever… d-do that…to me?” Your legs gave out, your body fully resting against Peters. You were no longer angry or upset, but the heartache you felt before was pounding against your chest. He picked you up softly bridal style as he carried you to your room. 

It hadn’t changed one bit since the last time he saw it. Clothes were still sprawled out all over the floor, several piles of paper lazily tossed on your desk, your blankets and pillows messily laid out. It was you, and his chest suddenly didn’t feel tight anymore. He gently set you down on your bed before grabbing one of your several blankets that was rested on the edge and covering you with it. You immediately wiped your face with the soft cloth, not bothering to reach for the tissues that was close by. 

Peter moved strands of hair away from your face, you flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers touching your heated cheeks. “S-sorry… I didn’t realize my hands were still cold..” he apologized, retracting his hand to fiddle with his fingers.

Your chest expanded as your sobs continued, something you had absolutely no control over anymore. It always took time for you to calm down after a breakdown like that, and although everyone knew it was best to leave you alone during that time, Peter wanted to be next to you. 

“I-I know I hurt you.. a lot.” Peter said, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you. “A-and you have no idea how… how much it pained me to leave you alone for the last 8 months.” You rolled your eyes at his words, not buying it for one second.

Tears started to form again as you bit your lip, your teeth already drawing a little blood. “I-I know you think that’s total bullshit but… but fuck Y/N. I miss you.” His lip quivered, becoming even closer to the brink of breaking down. You subconsciously grabbed his hand, Peter flinching at the sudden contact. 

You hadn’t held his hand in what seemed like years, and you didn’t know you had withdrawals from his touch until then. Peter’s eyes widened at your soft gesture, his heart racing as your thumb grazed the back of his hand in comfort. It always seemed to calm him down when he was distressed. His breathing steadily became regular again before he retracted his hand to reach for something in his back pocket. 

A small frown formed at his action, but it was wiped away once your eyes landed on the familiar piece of paper he was now holding.

Your letter.

“I… I read this… almost every night. Y-You can even see some of the tear stains I left.” He chuckled. You prompted yourself up with your elbows so you rest against your headboard, your eyes never leaving the worn down letter you had written so many months ago. “I knew I wouldn’t be to.. you know… form words once I got here. We both know I’m bad at that so…. I-I wrote you something.”

The crisp, fresh piece of paper contrasted against the dull one behind it. It had been folded neatly, something Peter usually didn’t care about. However, it seemed like he wanted this to be perfect. You already knew he took his time writing it, wanting his handwriting to be as legible as possible. His hands were shaking as he handed you his letter, your heart pounding against your chest. Peter gave you a soft smile before resting his hands against his lap, trying his hardest not to fiddle with them or the blanket in front of him. You looked at the curly-haired boy once more before eyeing the letter in your hands.

I have dreamed for weeks thinking about giving you this letter. It’s something that I wish oh so deeply for, but we’re not on talking terms right now, and I don’t know if we’ll ever be but I just need you to know that you are the most important person in my life and I let that go.

God, you were my everything. You were the reason to get myself out of bed and go to that torturous history class. You had no idea how happy you made me. I know I told you that a lot but fuck Y/N, the smiles were endless with you. I don’t care how much we fought or how often you had an episode, I loved you through it all. And I just want you to know that I would never leave you for something like that. I love you too much. 

I don’t know what I was thinking. I was an idiot, and you have every right to hate me after what I did to you but I will never stop loving you. You’re my best friend, my other half, my person, and I will always remember the strong person you are. You make me who I am, and Y/N Y/L/N, you continue to make me want to become a better person everyday. 

If you read this, whenever you do, just know that no matter what happens I will be in your corner. I’ll continue to support you through everything. You can throw this away, burn it. Do whatever you want. But I love you Y/N, and I’ll love you through it all. 

Peter 

Surprised was written all over your face. The hand holding the letter fell against your lap as you kept your gaze down. Your mouth was slightly opened as you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Every ounce of emotion you felt minutes before disappeared into the atmosphere and was replaced with the loving memories you tried so hard to forget. All the laughs and smiles with him, they resurrected back into your mind and your heart was piecing itself back together. 

Peter took in a deep breath before grabbing the unoccupied hand and bringing it up to his lips. He grazed your knuckles along his lips before leaving a chaste kiss. You bit the inside of your mouth to prevent a smile forming on your face. His soft lips always made your heart beat 10 times faster. 

“I’m really really sorry.” Peter rested his forehead against your hand which was being held by his and closed his eyes. You let go of the letter so you can run your fingers through his brown locks. It was no longer damp from the rain, but it had that fresh scent that you loved. “Come here..” You whispered.

Peter’s eyes fluttered open and saw a look he never thought he’d see again. You retracted your hand from his and scooted over so there was enough room for another person. His eyes lit up at the realization of you accepting his apology, but he still carefully climbed into bed next to you and threw his arm around your shoulders. You eased into his touch, relaxing your head into his chest so you could hear his heart beating. You slid your hand along his chest until it rested against the crook of his neck. 

Peter tensed a little at your movement, but the familiarity of the situation relaxed him.  You sighed in comfort as he faintly drew infinite circles on your arm, his touch almost too delicate. The crinkles around Peter’s eyes appeared when a bright, yet gentle smile was decorated along his freckled face. You were easing into contentment until you realized he was no longer skimming mindless circles but words. His touch was becoming more subtle, but what he was writing on your arm wasn’t. 

I love you, he wrote. 

Through it all, you thought, as you sunk into his arms again, never intending on letting go. 

[scribeofmorpheus]

Chasing Tornadoes {3/6}

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Series Warnings: poorly written medical procedural, mild delving into spirituality, language, overbearing egos, graphic descriptions of medical procedures. more warnings to be added. 18+ Generally, like my blog.

A/N: suprisingly, very little to warn about. blood splatter?

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3

Taglist is open -comment or send an ask!

<< Previously ○ Next >>

~

“God, you’re insufferable!” You slammed your clipboard into Stephen’s chest, it was surprisingly firm in a subtle way. You swallowed.

Stephen grabbed your wrist, not tightly, but firm enough to lock you in his grasp. He tugged, you moved forward against your wishes.

“And you’re so goddamn stubborn,” he whispered.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe you went around my back and interfered with my patient! That wasn’t your call. If I wanted your help, I’d ask for it!”

Stephen inched you towards the wall, back pressed to the familiar hospital walls. “You and I both know, I was the more qualified to handle this one.”

Why is he being so blasé about all this? Your breath hitched when he moved in a little closer. Why is he so close?

“Steph—”

He cut you off, lips prompting a rise in euphoria as soon as they met yours. They were soft, supple. But there was a boldness beneath it. You whimpered, finding it strikingly good. Deliciously good. And then while your head spun and Stephen stole your breaths, your surroundings changed to the familiar navy blue of the OR.

You gasped and pushed Stephen softly, “How did we…?”

Stephen followed your gaze.

A group of surgeons, masked up and gloved up, were performing surgery on a banana. You stuttered, at a loss for words. Stephen shrugged, unphased and then moved his attention back to you. Lips a mere millimetre away.

You recoiled, “Stephen.”

“What?” He asked, somewhat disappointed.

You pointed your ring finger at the operating table, “The banana.”

“Oh, right,” He turned. “How’s our patient?”

A beeping noise sounded out. A fellow spoke: “He’s going into cardiac arrest.” The beeping stopped. “He’s gone.”

“I’m calling it, time of death—”

You were shaken from your sleep by the sudden reorientation. With a loud thud, you landed hard on your ass, the sheets tangling one foot.

You rubbed your eyes, vision coming back blurry and spotted, “What the hell kind of dream was that?” Your fingers trailed over your lips. Dry and chapped and sorely missing the softness of the dream. You groaned, in no mood to deal with some romance drama in the workplace.

You were roused from the floor by the sound of something breaking. With heavy eye-lids and noodle arms, you hoisted yourself up and walked towards the kitchen, the source of the sound.

Rich loam soil and four fragmented pieces of a flower pot lay scattered on the floor. A small root system was peeking out from under the stove; it belonged to a cactus. The last cactus you owned.

You groaned as your eyes trailed up to the former resting place of the now destroyed flower pot and saw Spike’s fat reptilian body trying to slink away.

“Oh no you don’t, you leathery cat,” you hopped over the mess on the floor and grabbed Spike. You held him close to your face so you could stare into his eyes. “What is it with you and cactuses?”

Spikes tongue slithered out then in again before he let out a whiny growl.

You rolled your eyes and scolded him, “If you keep this up I’ll put you up for adoption.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you opened up the balcony door and let Spike down next to the arbour. “You stay out here and think about what you’ve done while I make breakfast.”

Spike made another lazy growl before moving away from the door at a snail’s pace. You hastily swept up the soil from your wooden floors and set aside the broken ceramic pieces in case you wanted to use them for another DIY home decor project.

While you put together a fruit bowl for breakfast, you noticed you hadn’t checked your voicemail. As you squeezed out the last two drops of honey onto your breakfast, you listened absentmindedly to the voice messages while making a mental checklist.

“Hey, Y/N…” Teddy’s soft voice reminded you of a lounge singer who smoked too many cigarettes in between sets. The kind of swaggerful baritone that belonged to men like Frank Sinatra or Nat King Cole. Ironically, Teddy’s face matched the softness of his name more than it did his pitch in voice. “I sent a few messages but I suppose you were on shift. That tornado…messy stuff. My cousin is local fire department, she told me—”

Remember to pay Mr Eliopoulos for the takeout. Teddy’s voice dissolved into white noise as you chewed your food. Get some bills out the ATM to keep on hand.

The next message played after a beep and you weren’t the slightest bit sorry you didn’t fully catch the rest of Teddy’s message.

“Y/N, it’s Irene.” –You froze. For a second– “I don’t know if you deleted my number after the last time we talked or not so…Yeah. It’s Irene,” your sister’s voice was a startling surprise to hear. She sounded as lively as a doornail, probably all the hours spent banging her head instead of her gavel in the courtroom. Irene thrived in the city, even if she never looked fully awake in any of her social media posts. You didn’t care much for city life and its exhausting churn.

Remember to save Irene’s number. Again.

“Mum called me, frantic that you didn’t call or text to say you were okay. She watched the news. The tornado rattled her. Your phone was off the whole day. I had to clear a whole day’s worth of meetings because her angina was acting up.” Irene was rambling in her monotone.

Angina isn’t a disease.

Irene paused as if she’d heard what you’d thought. Then she took a breath. You could practically picture her working her jaw muscles as she fought the urge to get emotional. “Call mum.”

Call mum.

The distance between you and Irene wasn’t consolidated to the miles between your cities. Irene was prickly, like a cactus. Maybe that’s why you had so much trouble growing them. But she was also the only person on the I-95 highway who stopped to pick up a wounded iguana on her cross-country trip that winter you moved into your apartment. That iguana was Spike. That was also the first and last time Irene ever stepped foot in your apartment. And the second time you’d deleted her phone number.

“Or at the very least, post one of those disturbing pictures of Spike dressed in baby clothes,” Irene’s tone turned condescending. There was some chatted on her end of the line. “I’m needed in the chamber.”

No rush saving her number. You swallowed the last spoonful of food before dumping your bowl in the sink. Then you opened the balcony door to let Spike back in.

A third beep. Another message.

“Dr Y/N?” the voice on the other end of the line was now very familiar to you. For a second, you wondered if you were still dreaming. “Dr Stephen Strange. The relief. I got your number from the on-call sheet. Just letting you know I got the go ahead first thing this morning to prep for the transplant. I’ll be the chief surgeon on staff. Marcy is in the best hands. Literally. I’ll see you at work.”

Ask about the transplant. You head shot up so fast you were convinced it’d crack like an Indiana Jones style bullwhip. Transplant?

“Marcy…” you mumbled before rushing to get to the shower. Just then another message played. The last. On it, Mike told you he was on his way to pick you up and that you should do something, but you weren’t paying much attention at that point. You had less than five minutes before he arrived.

Your shower was cold and quick. About half-way through, you realised the conditioner was practically empty. No time to fully detangle your bed-head knots, you raked your fingers through and washed all the shampoo away, making sure to add a little styling crème so your hair wouldn’t look like frizzy from the summer humidity.

You made sure to grab your go-bag, keys and lock the balcony door before rushing out the door just as Mike pulled into the driveway.

Mike had dark circles under his eyes, wind tousled hair that was still damp in places and an outstretched hand dangling out the car window with a coffee flask waiting expectantly.

You grabbed it and hastily made your way to the passenger side.

“Thanks,” you said out of breath as you unscrewed the cap and took a swig. Mike looked at you with a perplexed expression. When no coffee touched your tongue it was your turn to look back at Mike with a similar expression. “It’s empty.”

Mike nodded, “I know it’s empty.”

“Why’d you give me an empty flask?”

“Because you were supposed to make the coffee.

“Then you should have told me to.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t.”

Mike stared at you with a knowing look for a second too long. He sighed, rubbing his red eyes, “You didn’t listen to the whole voice message did you?”

You opened your mouth to retort but then you realised Mike was right. You clicked your tongue, “We can stop by the café near the intersection.”

“You’re buying,” Mike put the car in drive while you tried your best to distract yourself from thinking about Marcy.

“Tell me something new.”

 You got dressed into the maroon scrubs in the locker room. Your lanyard feeling particularly heavy that day. Maybe you weren’t as ready for today as you thought you were.

You had hoped and prayed to whatever constituted as a god on any particular day that Marcy would get a new lung. A healthy lung. And that she’d finally get to experience her youth, but now your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and your heart was so loud you wanted to scream just to shut it up.

But today was here and you only had the one heart, so you made a fist, took a long, deep breath and ran towards the OR.

Bach in C minor was playing over the sound of the heart-lung machine. There had been a slight pause when you walked into the OR mid-surgery, but everything continued without fail.

You knew, logically, that observing from the theatre was the right thing to do. The impartial thing to do. But this wasn’t any patient. This was Marcy. The girl you helped with her science homework that one weekend she came in for a check-up and stayed for a minor surgical procedure. The girl you watched rerun’s on cable TV with when you had the night shift. The girl you watched grow up.

Doctor Weisz was among the medical staff in the room. Strange didn’t bother looking away from Marcy’s open chest cavity.

“I don’t remember calling for a second pair of hands,” Strange said as if he was talking to himself. “Did you Doctor?”

Doctor Weisz’s words came out muffled behind her mask, “No.” She kept an impressive straight face. Come to think of it, you had never seen her smile. Or get angry. She was always professional. Even her haircut was a choice of convenience; short and slicked back.

You stepped out from behind Strange’s frame and moved in closer to Marcy. It was a little unsettling how normal she looked in a hospital gown with the elastic of her breathing mask drawing two red lines across her cheeks. The open chest cavity was different though. Unsightly.

Your fingers trembled, reaching out to hold her open palm lying flat on the table when the sudden loud beeping of the heart rate monitor shook you to action.

A squirt of blood sprayed out, turning the sterile blue operating gowns dark with plasma.

 “She’s bleeding,” Strange noted as if reading a catalogue. “There’s too much scar tissue.”

“BP is dropping. Fast,” Mike said. You hadn’t even noticed him in the room.

“Clamps,” Doctor Weisz’s hand was stretched expectantly to the fellow behind her.

Your feet were glued in place, like a statue with open eyes that couldn’t look away, just watching. Your brain yelled at you to snap out of it, let your training take over, set your emotions to backburner. But none of it worked.

“Someone get her out of my OR!” Strange’s composure shifted for the first time. It was then that you noticed your hand was holding tightly onto Marcy’s.

Just as Strange instructed, someone grabbed your hand and pulled towards the doors. Once you were out in the bright hallway you realised it was Mike.

 In the last couple of hours, you had treated a kid with tonsillitis, a man with a hangnail and one skateboarder with a concussion.

Why’d today have to be a slow day?

You sighed as you flipped through a medical chart Arlene had handed over for a second pair of eyes to go over.

“You said she came in with a fever?”

Arlene stammered before straightening her spine, “Y-yes.”

You kept quiet for a few seconds, waiting for Arlene to jump on cue and finish telling you the symptoms. She didn’t.

“Arlene?”

“Yes?” She looked up, big eyes fully attentive. Her innocence was endearing, but if not grown out of, it’d be a hindrance in this profession.

“This is usually when you fill me in.”

“Oh, right,” she fumbled with her chart. “Uh…loss of appetite, abdominal cramps and joint paint.”

“What’s your diagnosis?” You looked up at the wall clock, watching the hands tick.

Arlene fidgeted, “M-my diagnosis? I um…” She wiped her forehead as if there was sweat on it. “Cramps, fever and joint pain could be…stomach flu?”

“Viral gastroenteritis, yes,” you agreed with her diagnosis. “Treatment?”

Arlene was getting more confident, “Rehydration Solution, anti-viral—”

“Good, do it,” You excused yourself when you spotted Mike walking down the hall. The surgery was done.

“Mike!” You caught his attention. “So…how’d it go?”

Mike tried to miss eye contact, “She’s stable. Transplant wrapped up okay.”

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Mike rushed to place his hands on your elbows. “Marcy’s fine, taking well to the lung. She’s on assisted breathing until the rupture heals and the pressure is relieved on her muscles. She will have to stay in Recovery for longer but she’ll pull through.”

You laughed, a bright smile beaming over your face, “Then what’s the issue?”

Mike bit his lip, “Strange recommended to Weisz that you be put on probation for the time being.

Anger rushed unexpectedly, “What?”

Stephen suddenly appeared down the hallway. You marched over to him. He looked at you, expecting your oncoming aggression.

“You recommended I be put on probation?” You folded your arms to seem imposing.

Stephen glanced knowingly at Mike. Mike shrugged before disappearing into the lounge.

“God, you’re insufferable!” You flashed back to your dream and now you were confused as to what exactly you should be feeling.

“And if today is any indication, you’re too emotional,” he said softly.

You baulked, feeling insulted, “Too emotional?”

He rubbed his neck, “I told you about the operation out of professional courtesy. You had no right to barge into my OR and distract from the procedure. You put a bad foot forward, unprofessional. Weisz agreed. I suggested temporary probation to prevent Weisz from dealing a worse blow.”

You scoffed, “So you were helping me, is that it?”

“Yes,” he sounded on edge. “You’re too raw to be working right now. If I was your superior, I wouldn’t be assured that you could competently manage the rigorous expectations of the workplace.”

“Unbelievable, you really do walk around thinking you know everything, that your word is final. Mike was right, you have no reason to overstep your boundaries. You’re the relief, not my boss,” You threw your arms up in the air, ignoring the other residents listening in.

Stephen sighed, pushing passed you, ending the argument prematurely.¨

“Where are you going?” You demanded, following in stride.

“To get a drink,” he pressed his eyelids. “If you insist on still handing me my ass, you are welcome to join.”

You stalled for a second then decided to continue your squabble.

To be continued...

[meganlpie]

The Tale of Bucky Barnes -Final

Here it is(Finally)! The final part of my Medieval/Galavant AU! All Avengers belong to Marvel and all familiar plot lines belong to the creators of Galavant. 

The Tale of Bucky Barnes masterlist

Warnings: Longer part this time. Duels, angst, drunkenness, FLUFF! And a little humor.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Preserum Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Brock Rumlow

No sooner was lunch finished did the kids all beg for more of the story. Sam sat back in his chair and let out a sigh of content. "Alright. Let's see…where were we?" Bucky spoke first, "Bucky and the princess finally admitted their love for one another." The children nodded and Tony continued, "And Bucky volunteered to be Tony's champion in the duel against Clint." Everyone else started speaking until Sam held up his hands. "Okay, okay! I got it. Now here's what happened next…"

         The next day, everyone was pulled from the cells and outside to the arena where the duel would take place. Clint was already prepping. "Bucky?" you questioned. Bucky looked at you with a smile on his face. "Don't look so worried, Princess. I told you; I will win this for you. Then we can go anywhere we want." You smiled at him and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Good luck." Bucky entered the arena and prepared himself.

         Tony and Brock were up in the royals box with Natasha. Tony looked worried while Natasha and Brock looked smug. You bit your lip in concern. You knew Bucky was good, but so was Clint. There was absolutely no predicting the outcome of this match. As both men readied themselves and Tony stood along with Brock to announce the start, you held your breath. Bucky and Clint took their stances and everyone was on the edge of their seats. You'd never felt so much tension in one place.

         Just as Tony and his brother opened their mouths, another sound carried on the wind. The sounds of trumpets and galloping hooves. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around until the horses came into view. When you saw who was leading them, you breathed out an "Oh no."

         "Hello, Y/N!" the young prince astride the horse called down. Bucky looked back at you in confusion. "You know this kid?" You nodded, feeling your face heat up. "Yes. That's Prince Peter. He's the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom and…my fiancé." Bucky nearly dropped his sword.

         "WAIT A MINUTE! FIANCÉ?!" Steve cried, finally getting into the story. "No. No way. Steve did NOT just deal with all the nonsense between those two and witness them falling in love JUST to find out that she's got a fiancé!" You all stared at Steve for a minute. He closed his mouth and his ears turned bright red. "Easy, Cap. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," you said. Sam nodded and continued on.

         "Fiancé? He's a kid!" Steve exclaimed. "It was arranged by my parents. Believe me, I've been trying to get out of it for years." Bucky was still in shock. Why didn't you tell him you were betrothed? At least you were trying to get out of it. Yet another reason to save your life. Still, the admission had thrown him. He didn't even hear Tony announce that, in honor of the guests, the duel would be postponed until the next day.

         Back in his cell, Bucky paced again. He tried to come up with a solution. And finally, he had one but he needed to talk to Tony. That was easy enough since he was representing the king in the duel. The guard took him to Tony's chambers after only slight hesitation. Then, Bucky managed to convince Tony down to the nearest tavern.

         "How would you like to take back your kingdom without worrying about losing the duel?" Bucky asked. Tony arched a brow as he downed another whiskey. "The only way that can happen is if Brock dies." Bucky smirked and nodded. Tony's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean…?" Another nod and Tony's lips curled up in a smile. "You want to kill my brother?"

         "It's the only way. We can sneak in tonight and kill him while he sleeps." Tony thought for a moment before he spoke again, "I'm going to need another drink or five if I'm going to do that." With a laugh, Bucky ordered another round. And another. And another. In fact, by the time the two left the tavern, they were both drunk.

         Tony was not a quiet drunk. At all. The whole way back into the castle and down to the dungeons, he kept singing about how he was going to kill Brock. Bucky wasn't much better, but at least he was a little more quiet. "Bucky?" you asked. Bucky grinned lazily at you. "Hello, Princess. Gosh, you're pretty. And not just your face. Your brain. It's like your beautiful brain exploded all over your face."

         "Are-Are you drunk?" you asked and Bucky nodded. "Yep. Man, I should have kissed you when I had the chance. But I knew that, once I did, I'd never stop. It would be one of those forever kisses." You shook your head fondly. Tony tried to whistle at Bucky, but ended up just spitting a little. "Welp, off to kill the king," Bucky announced as he grabbed Tony and pulled him from the dungeon. He didn't remember much after that.

         "So did they do it? Did they kill Brock? And what about Prince Peter?" Your son asked. "Wait, who now?" another voice asked. You all turned to see Peter there. "Just in time, kid. You made your story debut in Wilson's adventure tale. Apparently, Prince Peter is engaged to Princess Y/N." Peter's face turned red.

         "Uh, sorry Mrs. Barnes, but I don't like you like that." You let a laugh burst out of you. "That's alright, Peter. I'm pretty happily married." Bucky kissed your temple and Sam cleared his throat. "Can I continue?" You and Bucky both looked sheepish. Sam took a deep breath and pressed on.

         Bucky woke in the cell with a splitting headache. "Oh…god," he groaned. "Serves you right," he heard. He looked over to see you smiling at him. "Oh god, what did I do? What did I say?" You licked your lips and bit back a giggle. "Well, you and Sleeping Beauty over there," you gestured to the cell on the other side of Bucky's where Tony was sleeping away and continued, "Tried to kill Brock. He caught you and threw you in here. You're both to be executed at sundown tonight."    

         Bucky shot up, suddenly a lot more sober than he had been. He'd failed. He had failed in everything he'd set out to do. He'd failed to "save" Natasha who hadn't even wanted to be saved. He failed to win your freedom. He'd failed in seizing his moment in the sun. He had failed.

         "Hey," you cooed, "It will be alright." Bucky shook his head as he got up and made his way over to the bars separating you. "How can you be so sure?" You smiled sadly at him. "Because I know you, Bucky. I know that we'll find a way out of this. Together." Bucky grasped your hands and tried to return the smile.

         Just then, the doors opened, causing you to jump. Bucky stiffened in place and Tony finally awoke at the sound. "W-What? Clint?" he questioned. You and Bucky looked more closely and, sure enough, it was Clint standing there with one hand on the hilt of his sword. After dismissing the guards, he grabbed the keys and unlocked the cells.

         "You have to hurry," he said plainly, "The guards are stupid, but it won't take them long to learn Brock didn't summon them. There's a boat waiting for you on the shore behind the castle." Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion. What was going on here?

         "Why are you helping us?" you voiced Bucky's unasked question. Clint flicked his gaze to Tony for a brief second. "Because I may be a dog, but I'm a loyal one. Tony's been my king and my…friend, for a long time. Get him out of here and keep him safe. That's all I want in return for letting you go. Now go. I'll take care of Brock and the guards."

         Bucky went to work making sure everyone was ready to go while you stared at Clint. "Now why are you really letting us go?" Clint chuckled softly and smiled. "A story for another time, Princess. Go on." You said nothing more as Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you after him.

         Your little group didn't stop moving until you reached the shore. Captain Banner nodded at you from one of the lifeboats. In the distance, his ship waited for her captain to return with his passengers. You assisted Bucky in getting everyone on board the boats until it was only the two of you left on the shore.

         Bucky gently took your arms, making you face him. "Whatever happens next, we're in this together, Princess. You and me." You beamed up at him. "I promise. I love you, Bucky." Bucky pulled you a little closer, whispering that he loved you too. And, as the sun began to set, Bucky leaned down and finally pressed his lips to yours in the kiss you had both been longing for.

         "The end," Sam declared, earning cheers of joy from all around the room. "Best. Story. EVER!" Your son cried out. "It was pretty great," you agreed. You leaned your head on Bucky's shoulder with a sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Murmurs of agreement washed over the room. Sam sat back in his seat with a triumphant smile on his face.

         Once more, your youngest made her way over to Sam and sat next to him. "Uncle Sam?" He glanced down at her. She gaze at him with wide, innocent eyes. Before she even opened her mouth, Sam knew what was coming. "Can you tell it again?" Sam let out a laugh. "Sure thing. Way back in days of old, there was a legend told about a hero known as Bucky Barnes…"

(a/n: There you have it! It took forever, so I’ve decided to end it there. I don’t want to go another year without writing the next part.) 

TToBB tags: @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @thors-magic-hammer​

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @sirkekselord​ @aikibriarrose​ @lady-of-lies​ @esoltis280​ @sdavid09​

Marvel Tags: @jotink78​ @iwillbeinmynest​

Avengers Only Tags: @thisismysecrethappyplace​

[nastybuckybarnes]

Out of the Shadows

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Platonic!Loki x Reader

Summary: After finding out that you feel like a complete outcast, the team tries hard, too hard, to include you. And when a mission comes up, well, their efforts lead to disaster.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Injuries, Violence, Fluff

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: Um, hi. Idk what Im doing anymore. It seems like everything I write just ends up flopping so idk what to do.

PART ONE MASTERLIST

“Can I help you with anything? Do you need anything? A-are you comfortable?” You groan and put your face in your hands.

“Listen, Holly, I get it that you're trying to... make up for whatever Loki put in your head, but please stop hovering. I need some space so I can work and focus on what I’m doing. We have a mission coming up and I want to be as prepared as possible, okay?”

Your sister nods and looks away, “I just... I never knew you felt... so excluded. I never intended to make you feel like that.” You look up from the file in your hands and smile lightly. “I know. And I’m fine. I promise.” She sighs, knowing you’re lying, but drops it.

“I’m gonna go train with Nat. Feel free to join if you want.” Right as she leaves, someone else walks in.

“Hey (Y/n).” You smile at the voice, warmth filling you. “Hi, Peter. I’ve missed you.” He walks to your bed and leans down, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve missed you too. Are you ready for the mission tomorrow? Stocking up on carbs tonight? Its kinda like going to a basketball game o-or track-and-field. You’ve gotta have energy for tomorrow. Especially if you’re gonna be throwing things with your mind and-” you silence his jabbering with a gentle kiss.

He sits down beside you, his hands hesitantly wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him.

You push him down onto his back, the file for the mission long forgotten, and straddle his waist. He grabs your hips and squeezes tightly. Through his actions, you can almost feel the anxiety he feels about you going on this mission.

You pull your lips from his and pant softly, holding his cheeks and pressing your forehead to his. “I’ll be safe, Peter. I promise.” He kisses your lips again then sighs, “I know, but I’ll still worry about you. You... I... I think that you’ve made my life so much better. And I really don’t wanna lose you.” You smile and open your eyes, looking up into his deep beautiful brown orbs.

“You mean the world to me, Peter. Without you... I’m not sure what I’d do. I’m so glad that I have you.” He kisses your lips a third time then leans his head down on the pillow.

You lie down on his body, legs tangled with his and head on his chest. He traces light patterns on your back and you exhale deeply, relaxing into your boyfriend.

~*~

“Shit! Nat! Help!” Your sister’s voice calls through the comms.

Your blood runs cold at her cry of pain and for a moment you see red. Moving with speed and determination that you didn't know you possessed, you tear through the HYDRA agents on the outside of the building, quickly getting inside the base and running to the room where your sister and Nat are supposed to be gathering intel.

Holly’s on the ground, a HYDRA agent holding her throat.

You muster up your powers and launch the man off of her, running to her side and helping her to stand. “Okay ladies, I’ve got the hard drive. Let’s get the Hell out of here before someone gets seriously hurt.”

You and Holly follow after Nat towards the door, each of you with a weapon raised.

A small round ball-like thing rolls into the room and you gasp, eyebrows raising to your hairline.

“Get back!” You yell, twisting your arms in a circle and creating a shield just as the grenade explodes.

You get thrown across the room and hit the wall hard enough for all of the other people in the room to hear the cracks of your bones.

“(Y/n)!” Holly cries, running towards you while Nat takes care of the HYDRA agents.

“What happened?” Steve’s voice asks in her ear.

“We need an evac. Now,” Nat’s voice says. Holly grabs your cheeks and sniffles, pleading softly for you to open your eyes. Her fingers find your neck and she feels for a pulse, a sob bursting out of her as she feels nothing.

“Nat! There’s no pulse! W-what do I do?!” The redhead appears next to your sister and takes a deep breath. “I need all the help I can get, guys. Starting compressions.” Nat starts pumping her hands on your chest, trying to get your heart beating again.

Holly sits beside you, one of your hands cradled in both of hers.

“Please (Y/n). I’m so sorry for not being there. I’m so so sorry. Please wake up. Please. Please wake up.”

It takes hardly a minute for Tony to meet them in the room, tears in his eyes as he sees your lifeless form on the ground, Natasha still doing compressions. “Get her to the Quinjet. Get FRIDAY to do something to save her!” Holly almost yells.

“I can give her a shock, Boss. 200 joules should do it.” Tony looks at his hands then nods.

“Charge ‘em up FRIDAY.”

He kneels in front of your body and, after FRIDAY giving him a quick tutorial, presses his makeshift defibrillators to your chest. Your body jolts with the contact and Holly sobs.

“Read vitals,” Tony whispers.

FRIDAY takes a moment but eventually responds.

“Heartbeat detected.”

He lets out a sigh of relief then carefully scoops your body up in his arms, flying you to the Quinjet. As you lie helpless and vulnerable in his arms, he realizes just how important you are to him and everyone else on the team.

~*~

You wake up to a soft voice whispering near your ear.

It takes you a few minutes, but you eventually manage to figure out how to work your body again.

“...and I swear I’ll never let you go. You died out there and I thought I was going to die when they told me. I can't live without you cause you mean too much to me. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe cause I love you. They don’t really want me in here, I should be training, but there’s no way I’m leaving you until you wake up. So please (Y/n), open those pretty eyes for me. Please wake up. Please.”

It takes a lot more energy than you expected, but you manage to pull your eyelids back a tiny bit, squinting against the harsh lights in the room.

“Peter?” Your voice is scratchy and hoarse and sounds absolutely awful.

“Oh my God, (Y/n)! You’re awake! I-I need to get the doctor! Or mister Stark.” He jumps up, freezing in his tracks as you squeeze his hand. “Don't leave me, Peter. Please don’t leave me.” He hesitates for a moment then sits back down. “I really oughta tell someone that you’re awake. You might need painkillers or something.” Your eyes water and he’s quick to kiss away the tears. “But I won’t leave you, (Y/n). I promise I won’t.” You nod, wincing as your head throbs.

“FRIDAY? Can you please call Mister Stark and the Doctor? (Y/n)’s awake now,” Peter says. The AI agrees and in a few minutes, multiple people come barreling into your room.

“(Y/n). I’m glad to see that you’re awake and talking. You had us worried for a little while there,” The doctor says with a kind smile. You look up at her then over at your sister. “Did... did I actually die?” Tony and the Doctor sigh while your sister makes a noise of pain.

“Your heart stopped beating, yes. And if Mister Stark and Miss Romanoff hadn’t acted as fast as they did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

You ponder this for a moment then look up at each person in the room.

“You... why?” Tony sits at the foot of your bed, Your sister and Natasha right behind him. “(Y/n), you sacrificed your life for the team. You gave your life for these two morons here. We... we might not be the best at showing it, but you mean an awful lot to us. We’d... we’d be lost without you. Your little snarky remarks whenever Cap says something you don’t like... the way you can always comfort anyone, no matter what. You’re loved and you’re needed. Don’t even get me started on how much the Spiderkid needs you. When he found out you were hurt he almost went crazy. He hasn’t left your side the whole week. Took a lot of convincing and Capsicle physically removing him from the room to get him to take a shower.”

“We love you, (Y/n). And I’m so so sorry that we ever made you feel like we don’t,” Nat says with a small smile. You nod, looking down for a moment. “I’m sure you’re feeling overwhelmed right now. We’ll give you some time. If you need anything at all, let us know, alright?” You nod at Tony and watch as him and Nat walk out.

“(Y/n)... you’ve been saving my life since we were kids. Thank you. I... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you, but I’ll spend the rest of my damn life trying. I’ll be annoying and overbearing, as long as you know how much I love and appreciate you,” Holly whispers, gently patting your leg before getting up and leaving the room.

A dark-haired man enters the room after a moment, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad to see that you’re alive and well, (Y/n). They haven’t stopped worrying about you ever since you were brought here. I don’t think you’re quite as forgotten as you’d like to think.” A few tears slide down your cheeks and you sniffle.

“Thank you, Loki. For always being there for me when I felt so alone. Thank you.” He dips his head in a mock bow then leaves the room, letting you sit in silence.

“I hope you know that no matter what you feel, I’ll always be here for you,” Peter says softly from beside you, his eyes cast down to where your hands are joined.

“Of course I do, Peter. I love you with my entire heart and I know you love me. I know that we’ll always have each other.”

He kisses your cheek gently then sighs.

“Always.”

~*~ crappy ending I know. Sorry.

TAGS:

PERMANENT TAGS: @smolbeanbucky  @wildefire  @inumorph  @impalatobakerstreet  @nanna022  @mummy-woves-you  @m-a-t-91  @wtfholland  @bookgirlunicorn  @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter  @mrhiddles-81  @iamwarrenspeace  @bitchacho25  @escapetheshackles  @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul  @avnngrs

MARVEL: @fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish  @maladaptive-ninja-returns  @cliffordasparagus  @april-14-blog  @potteritis

STUCK IN THE SHADOWS: @animegirlgeeky  @drakesfiance  @disneychic8 

LOKI:

@arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77

[marvelousheroes]

Don’t Tell Steve!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, The Avengers x Reader 

Request: Hey could ypu please write a peter parker imagine where he's dating the reader but in secret because her older brother is Steve? Like they try to hide it but bucky finds out and then everyone and they tease them? Later steve finds out and ... by @kameliasdream

Word count: 1000

A/N: Okay so, I wrote this a loooong time ago but because I had just posted ‘The One Where Everyone Finds out’ I thought that this was too similar to post right after it... And then I kind of forgot about this. So sorry about that. I tried to do this imagine as accurate to the request as possible without making it too similar to the previous which meant that I couldn’t really follow the request 100 %. Again, sorry about that! 

PS: You can send me asks, stupid questions, messages anything! And please do! I’m always in the market for new friends. send your asks here

Masterlist

”Ooh, what do we have here” you heard Bucky say playfully from the door. You froze. You had been dating Peter for a few months now in secret because of your overprotective brother. You slowly parted away from Peter and turned your head towards Bucky.

“Nothing” you said slowly, thinking hard how the hell you could explain this. “We are just hanging out here” you smiled nervously.

“Yeah… Hanging out. Just watching the TV” Peter pointed at the TV realizing that it wasn’t even on.

“Mhm, right” Bucky gave you two a sly smirk and left the room.

“Oh my God, he can’t tell Steve” you turned to Peter in panic.

“Oh, no no no no, Cap is going to hate me if he finds out! And I just got him to like me” Peter started panicking and held his head in his hands.

“Okay, we need to stop Bucky” You jumped up from the couch and took his hand. “Let’s go” you pulled him up and started running. You didn’t have to run that far when you found Bucky talking with Steve. You let go of Peter’s hand and told him to stay so Steve wouldn’t see him.

“Hey Bucky” you faked a cheerful voice when you walked to him and Steve. “Could you help me out with something?” you continued with a fake smile hoping that Steve wouldn’t get curious.

“Oh, what do you need help with” Bucky turned to you with a smirk.

“I have to write a history essay and could really need your help” you replied, the smile getting faker and faker every second.

“I can help you with that” Steve said with a smile.

”Yeah, why can’t Steve help you with it?” Bucky smirked at you.

“Well, Steve, remember the last time you helped me, and we just ended up fighting” you tried to explain.

“Okay, that’s fair” Steve laughed a bit. “I’ll just go hang out with Tony” Steve continued with an annoyed face and walked away.

“Okay Bucky, come on” you grabbed his arm and led him to Peter.

“Bucky please don’t tell Steve about me and Peter” you begged him.

“What? I thought that you two were just hanging out” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell him please!” you begged him once more.

“Fine. I won’t tell him, but I can’t promise anything for those guys” Bucky smirked and pointed behind you. You gave Bucky a confused look and looked what he was pointing at. Your eyes grew wide when you noticed Natasha and Clint standing behind you with amused smiles.

“Oh sh—” you muttered to yourself.  “Hey guys, what’s up. How long have you been standing there?” you laughed nervously while sweating like a pig.

“So, you and Spiderling huh” Natasha winked at you.

“You can’t tell Steve okay?” you begged again and wiped a drop of sweat from your forehead.

“Oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell?” Clint looked up from his phone.

“Oh no, what did you do?” you panicked while Peter stood behind you nervously pulling his sleeves. 

“Relax Y/N, I’m just kidding” Clint laughed and walked away.

“I promise I won’t tell Steve” Natasha winked and followed Clint.

At the end of the day it seemed like everyone on the team knew about you and Peter, except for Steve.

“You and Peter are perfect for each other” Wanda said.

“Congratulations for your relationship with Mr. Parker” Vision came up to you.

“Don’t you hurt my Spider-Boy” Tony gave you a stern look.

“Damn those guys” you slammed your door closed and sat next to Peter. “I mean, fair enough, they said that they weren’t going to tell Steve. I guess I should have been more specific,” you leaned your head against Peter’s shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time until Steve finds out” you continued with a sigh.

“W-well, maybe we should just tell him. I mean, it will be worse if he hears it from someone else, right?” Peter said while stroking your hair.

“Maybe you’re right” you lifted your head from his shoulder to face him. “What did I do to deserve you” you smiled at him.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that” Peter laughed making you blush. You smiled at him and grabbed his hand.

“I love you” you told him for the first time.

“I-I love you too Y/N” Peter smiled widely and stoked your cheek with his thumb. He pulled you closer to him and kissed you with so much love.

“Hey Y/N—” You heard Steve’s voice and you froze. You didn’t know what to do, you were so shocked that you didn’t even realize to let go of Peter.

“I—” Steve tried saying but he seemed just as shocked as you were.

“M-m-mr. R-r-ogers…” Peter finally pulled away from you.

“Um, I’m sorry for interrupting you. Just wanted to say that dinner is ready” Steve said still trying to process what he just saw. He didn’t know what to do or what to say so he just stood there quietly for a while.

“Y-yeah, we’ll be right there” you told him awkwardly.

“Okay, so, I’m going to go now” Steve pointed at the door and started walking away. As he was just about to close the door behind him he peeked his head out the door one more time. “Just, you know, be safe” he said awkwardly and closed the door.

“Well… That went better than I thought it would” Peter laughed.

“Yeah, that dinner is going to be the fun” you said sarcastically. You took a breath and stood up. “Are you ready?” you asked Peter and held your hand for him to take.

“Yeah” Peter sighed and grabbed your hand. 

You spent the whole dinner ignoring everyone’s teasing about your relationship and trying to change the subject. On the upside: all the teasing seemed to loosen up Steve a bit and make him more comfortable about your new relationship.

Tags: If you want to be tagged in my imagines, send me a message here and tell me what kind of posts you want to be tagged in (which characters).

@every-heart-has-scars,  @valerinaalove, @germolig02, @eponine-xx, @pillow223, @sadlittlestick, @lifelillysandmagicwands, @superwholockian5ever, @disteenager, @bonza-bear, @chelykat451-blog, @deanwinchesterisnotonfire, @tomholllaand, @kampfzwergwiesel, @mychemicaltessa, @wizardinthewrongplace,  @thejemersoninferno, @multi-parker,  @aplus-trash, @superwholockianowl, @kocktober

[iwriteficsnottragediesladies]

Girl Can SING (Part 1)

Request: Can you please make one where the reader is newly friends with Brendon and she sings but she's shy and she doesn't want him to think that she's only friends w/ him cause he might get her places. And they sorta have crushes on each other (no hate to Sarah) and he finds out that she sings and he brings her on stage and she sings and they kiss and fluff? Can she sing Run To You by Ptx or Hallelujah? I covered both on my blog under the tag #juju sings if you wanna listen!

A/N Here ya go! Sarah doesn’t exist in this (sorry Sarah!). Hope it’s what you had in mind. I ended up splitting it into two parts, then adding more chapters by other users’ requests. Let me know if there’s anything you want changed up @jared-padaloveme

You had your overnight bag all packed up. You were so flattered that Brendon had asked you to come hang out with him and the guys. Having a “sleepover” was like a throwback to middle school slumber parties but hey, sleeping in the same house as Brendon Urie? You had zero complaints.

You ring the doorbell and are greeted by Brendon, and of course Penny and Bogart.

“Hey Y/n!” He gives you a big hug. “How are you?” He asks you mid squeeze. You pull away and he keeps his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey Brendon! I’m great, how are you doing?” You say, unable to contain your smile.

“Good, good,” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and starts to guide you down the hallway. “You can drop your stuff anywhere. Full disclosure, everything you own will probably be covered in dog hair by the time you leave.”

You giggle, putting your duffel bag down. As you enter the living room, Dallon, Ken and Dan all greet you in unison. “Y/n!” the chorus exclaims. Have you ever been in a room with so many attractive men? Gees. “Hey guys!” You give them a shy but enthusiastic wave as you plop down on the couch next to Dallon as Brendon joins you. It’s like a Y/n sandwich… A very hot Y/n sandwich. Ken reaches behind him to grab a beer from the cooler and it’s passed over to you. “Thank you,” you said melodically, twisting off the cap. Damn, you felt so cool.  

It’s not long before you’re all hanging out comfortably, chatting, the alcohol heating your throat. Penny cuddled in your lap.

“Wow, she really likes you!” Brendon remarks at one point. You are officially Penny-approved.

Hanging out with them is just so easy. Brendon is most definitely the life of the party, he has everyone dying laughing.

The boys pick up their instruments for a casual “jam session” as they like to put it. “Do you play anything, Y/n?” Brendon asks. Do you lie? Or do you tell him about how your life revolves around singing? God, you practically were born singing. It’s the only thing you can imagine yourself doing, and it’s the one thing you truly love to do.

“Not really,” You reply. It’s technically not a lie.

“Aw come on, weren’t you at least forced to play an instrument when you were little?” Brendon teases. Your eyes grow wide with embarrassment.

“Oh god,” you reminisce while rolling your eyes, “The flute.” You practically shudder.

“Was it that bad?” Dallon asked with a chuckle.

“Um YES,” you stated with sass, “It was I-passed-out-in-the-middle-of-band-class bad.” You had the boys’ full attention, so clearly you had to elaborate. “I couldn’t get that thing to make a sound, but I would try so hard. I used up all of my breath until I actually passed out in front of my entire class.”

You were laughing. The boys were laughing. You just admitted your great musical failure to some of the best musicians in the country. Your cheeks were rosy with a mix of embarrassment and joy. 

“It was the worst,” you concluded with a giggle.

Once everyone had gathered themselves together, they began to talk about what to play. They decided to start with some panic stuff. Victorious was up first. You mock-drummed on Penny, who seemed to enjoy the bizarre belly rub. You were mesmerized by Brendon. The sound of his voice, the shape of his lips, the way his hair would flip while he played... You try not to stare, but my god, what a beautiful human. When they finished, they looked up and gave each other proud smiles.

They played a couple more, including Miss Jackson, which was one of your favorites. Brendon had Dallon for back up, so he didn’t have to sing every part all at the same time like he usually did for acoustic performances. Brendon suddenly turned to you.

“How about a request, Y/n,” he says, “Not panic, something different.”

Your favorite song immediately pops into your head and just the thought of Brendon’s voice singing it made you melt. You pretend to think about it.

“Hm, well my favorite is Hallelujah, like, Leonard Cohen,” you clarify. Ken’s head popped up.

“Oh hey, isn’t that one of your favorites, Brendon?” He exclaimed. Brendon bites his lip, nodding, clearly a little embarrassed by Ken. You begin to think that maybe Brendon told the boys to play it cool around you.

“Yeah,” Brendon looks at you and then the ground with an adorable smirk, “It actually is.”

Your heart is beating faster.

“C?” Dallon confirms what key everyone wants, trying to put Brendon out of his misery. Brendon nods and begins.

The way the lyrics pour from his lips is pure poetry. Oh gees, you’re staring again. You admire how expertly his fingers move on the strings, arpeggiating the chords he plays so perfectly. He begins to sing the chorus and you don’t even realize you are singing the harmony quietly. You were so accustomed to singing it.

Brendon looks over at you and does a double take, still singing. He’s caught up in trying to confirm the sound was coming from you and his fingers stumble to the next chord. You silence yourself, suddenly embarrassed. Was he judging you? Oh god, why did you even open your mouth? He thinks you suck, you just know it.

You are silent for the remainder of the song, but Brendon keeps glancing over at you. You pretend to be lost in petting Penny, unwilling to make eye contact with him.

When they finish, they also seem kind of surprised at their success. It was so beautiful, even they were kind of impressed with how nice it was.

“Wow,” Dan said, “Haven’t played that in a while.”

“That was amazing,” you said, trying not to be too starry eyed as you looked at all of them, your gaze ending on Brendon. You swore you saw his cheeks pink up again as he looked at you.

“Alright, it’s past my bedtime,” Dallon joked nervously, as suddenly the boys felt like they were interrupting something.

Brendon nearly cleared his throat in the most cliche way. Everyone agreed and you all departed from the couch. You picked up your bag and Brendon went into host mode, guiding you to your rooms.

“Alright, so there’s shower stuff in both of your bathrooms,” he gestured to your room and the other room the Dallon, Ken and Dan would be sharing. “And there’s towels in this closet,” he pointed to a door a few steps down the hall. You felt kind of guilty that the boys had to pile into one room, just because you were a girl and it was kind of customary not to stick you with a bunch of men.

All of you were in and out of your rooms, retrieving towels and shouting across the hallway to each other, talking about random shit. You leave your door to your room ajar and enter your private bathroom, locking the door. Again, you feel kind of guilty, but secretly happy you don’t have to share.

You get undressed and try to turn on the shower. You end up spraying yourself with cold water. You suppress a squeal and giggle to yourself. Idiot. You figured out which dial controls the temperature, and after some trial and error, the water heated up. You gratefully step into the warm water. Jesus Christ, fancy showers are complicated.

You begin your shower routine and start singing mindlessly. It’s just what you do. I mean, who doesn’t sing in the shower? Hallelujah was obviously stuck in your head after such an incredible performance, so it’s flowing from you without a thought. You’re not belting it out or anything, but the acoustics in the tiled room were amazing.

Unbeknownst to you, Brendon comes to the door of your room, knocking lightly and since it was open, he cautiously pokes his head inside. “Hey, Y/n--” he wanted to make sure you had everything you needed, but he is met by the sound of your voice, echoing in the bathroom. He opens the door to your room fully, listening intently to your singing. He hears every note, spot on, and so beautiful.

Dallon is passing by and Brendon catches him by the shoulder, silently nodding his head in the direction of the bathroom. Dallon steps up next to him. Ken and Dan see them gathered in the doorway and join them curiously. Everything becomes clear to them as they listen. They find your voice to be casual and effortless, clearly performing for no one but yourself.

“Damn,” Ken murmurs quietly, very impressed.

“She ‘doesn’t play any instruments’ my ass,” Dan adds.

Meanwhile, you climb out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel. Your clothes are in the duffel bag on your bed. You nearly forget to turn off the shower, using the correct dial purely by luck, and push the door open.

You look up and are shocked to see the boys in your doorway shuffling around, the epitome of “act natural” and failing. Your eyes grow wide and so do theirs. You hold your towel tighter around yourself.

“Um, can I help you?!” You exclaim with a chuckle. Shit, were they listening to you? Oh my god, your tone deaf, aren’t you? Your cheeks run a hot red, not just from the heat of the shower water. Everyone was too stunned to move.

“Uh, we, um,” Dallon was the first to speak up but trailed off, probably feeling the most awkward out of all of them, seeing as he had a wife and kids at home. Here he was watching a half naked woman in front of him. This is not what it looks like, Dallon thinks to himself.

“Well, we just couldn’t help but,” Brendon kind of winced nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “But hear you singing, and...” He trailed off as well.

Oh my god, they were about to laugh at your singing. You could just tell. Oh dear god, you’re so embarrassed.

“GIRL CAN SING,” Ken finally exclaimed sincerely.

Wait, what?

“Oh gees guys, you don’t have to--” You start, but Brendon interrupts you.

“Y/n, your voice...” He says softly. It is at the moment you realize that Brendon is not wearing a shirt. He continues, “It’s amazing.”

The wonder in his eyes paired with the sweetest smile makes you realize... They mean it. These are not just obligatory compliments... They truly mean it. BRENDON means it. You might throw up. You might pass out. No, no, don’t pass out. You are naked and have four guys staring at you. Do NOT pass out right now.

Brendon must realize what’s happening because he nonchalantly makes his way over to you, but concern is evident in his eyes. You think he doesn’t want to embarrass you by making a big deal out of it in front of the guys, but he is worried. He sits you down on the bed.

The rest of the boys enter further into the room.

“What are we going to do with this one?” Brendon turns to them with a certain glint in his eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Jesus, take her on tour?!” Ken says enthusiastically.

Brendon looks back at you with a wide smile.

“Oh, guys, I barely even sing at open mic nights,” You chuckle nervously.

“We can start off slow, Y/n,” Brendon says, “Why don’t you come and play with us a bit, just here at home.”

You nod slowly.

“We can work on whatever you want,” he says soothingly, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Well, I’m damn comfortable half naked with you touching me, you suddenly think to yourself. You push your dirty thoughts aside, concealing a smile.

“Are you sure?” You ask, needing to confirm that something so amazing could possibly be happening to you.

“Very,” Ken said confidently.

Was this real life? Would you wake up soon? Everyone just kind of paused, smiling. 

“Um,” you started, sorry to interrupt the moment, “Can I get dressed now?” you giggled.

“Oh, right, yeah sorry,” The boys were all remarking, remembering that you were still in a towel. They quickly made their way out of the room, Brendon the last to leave. He paused with his hand on the door. He looked at you with this kind of smirk. He knew that this was the start of something. Something amazing.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” He spoke quietly.

“Goodnight Bren,” You replied.

He shut the door, and you realized you had called him by a nickname. You hoped that was okay. You soon were smiling like an idiot, unable to shake this incredible feeling. You finished getting ready for bed and climbed under the covers, your smile never leaving your face. You didn’t know it, but Brendon laid awake, the same smile stuck on his lips.

This was the start of something amazing.

A/N: Like and reblog if you’re feelin’ it!

[gorillaz-imagines]

Do you think that I could get 1 w/ murdoc pls? I love this blog btw it's the shit

absolutely! and i guess i could say that ur the shit, too ;))))

“D’ya want me ta’ leave? Is this a bad time?” He asked, voice as soft as ever. It wasn’t like your boyfriend, Murdoc Niccals, to be quiet… Ever.

“I-I don’t know,” you whimpered, hands pulling at your hair. “Murdoc, I don’t know…”

You on the verge of tears made him relatively uncomfortable- Mudz never really knew how to handle these types of things, so of course, he just stood at the front door of his Winnebago as you sat on one of the beds clothed with his all-time favorite Egyptian Silk.

“Love, Babe, Honey- what happened?” Closing the door as silently as he could, he adjusted his shirt and put his wallet down on the counter. “I’m sure that you’re just worked up, ya’ know- it’s been a rough day.”

“Murdoc, this is serious,” you stated, eyes red and puffy. From the bottom bunk of the bed, you held a pale, white stick up to his eyes. Mudz strolled over and examined it, looking as perplexed as it gets.

“What’s this here?” 

“A pregnancy test.” Murdoc felt the ball in his throat drop down to the bottom of his stomach, his whole entire body growing as cold as the ice caps.

“And ya’ took it because…?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“B-because my suspicions were right… Murdoc… I’m having a baby… I’m having a baby…”

“W-well, what if the test was just wrong? That happens, right? The test must be wrong! Ya’ can’t be pregnant! Impossible! Rubbish!” He snatched the stick from your hand, spectating it closely; he just wanted to slam it against the counter. You looked to the opposite side of the motor home, tears filling in your eyes once more. 

“I think that I really am having a baby, Mudz… I noticed that I gained a bit of weight, and that I’ve missed my period, my feet have been swollen…” You started to choke up as he looked at you, his eyes cold and gray. “Murdoc, I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry that this happened, I swear that I didn’t do anything, it just happened… Oh god, I’m so sorry, I get it if you would want to leave me… I’m having a kid, anyways…” All of a sudden, his eyes widened as he held up his hands in surprise.

“No- no! (Y/n), listen closely,” he said, grabbing your shoulders. His hands were sweaty and tense. “All my life, all my life I’ve been alone, or drunk, and all my life, I’ve done nothing but shag up- you’re the first person that I’ve ever l-l-loved, and there’s no way in hell that I’d leave you because of this- I don’t like it as much as ya’ do, but we’ll find a way…” He paused momentarily. “We always seem to.” Smiling weakly, he made you smile back as he kissed your forehead, pulling you into an embrace.

“But, for starters, can we perhaps just go to the doctor’s and make sure that ya’ really are pregnant? Because I still don’t trust that test- Ya’ don’t look a pound over (insert weight).”

[thotsforvillainrights]

Hello, i love your blog so much! If you don't mind this, can you write something about Chisaki with a sugar mommy? I mean, he was in need of money, and he lacks a mother figure in his life (plus all of these Lady Nagant stuffs make me just want to have someone who actually cares for him, spoils him even). Thank you in advance and have a great day!

(A sugar mommy/daddy/ or I’m not too sure the gender neutral term ahhh! But either way, sounds like a great idea to me ^_^)

~Sugar Baby!Chisaki~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-You’d have to have mixed feelings at first right? His profile was all over the place. His pictures showed a king pen of the underground and his bio description sounded like the complete opposite. “Well which is it? Are you looking for someone to spoil you or is it the other way around?” You spoke to yourself as you scanned his profile a bit longer. He certainly seemed like he had money at first but you couldn’t judge a book by it’s cover any longer. You went ahead and swiped to message him and set up a day to meet. 

-When he showed up at the cafe you wanted to meet at, he seemed rather reserved. His fashion was questionable and his eyes hid behind sunglasses while his lower half of his face hid behind the mask he was wearing. “Uhhh...Kai Chisaki???” You questioned as he took a seat across from you. “Y/N I assume? Oh no, I don’t shake hands.” He waved your hand away dismissively and you scoffed in amazement. “W...what?” He sighed at your confusion and took off his glasses to peer at you with those golden eyes. “Let’s keep this short. I’ve got business to attend to. So this whole sugar baby and parent thing should be just you giving me money right? I want 4,000 a week starting today if you can. Also I need you to absolutely never touch me under any circumstances whatsoever. To answer the question you’re probably thinking about, I’m a mysophobe is the reason. I would also like to never meet again as well. I don’t really want to keep in contact with you outside of you giving me money. Got it? I don’t have time for little dates and I’m not interested in love.”

-”Wow...uh okay. Well some of that is not going to fly. You listen here because I have my own rules I want to set in place.” He leaned back in his chair with an annoyed expression and a groan. You then explained to him that you weren’t that type of sugar parent and if you wanted to just give your money out like that then you would just drop it on the street as you walked. You explained that he is to meet you for a date once every two weeks and you were to text and call each other a little more often a well. You went ahead and allowed the ‘no touching’ rule to keep him comfortable and you also put your foot down on money boundaries as well. 4000 a week was possible but it was not reasonable whatsoever. You cut it down to a good price and you made sure to give him plenty other rules as well. After you finished explaining things to him he hesitated before reluctantly complying. “Fine then.” 

-Things probably began to change about 2 or 3 months into the relationship when his approach to you was shifting to a rather kinder one. You would think he was just telling you what you wanted to hear over text and until he suddenly called you in the dead of night.

“Chisaki, you alright there baby?

“...I need to see you. Where are you at right now?”

“Huh? I’m at my house. What’s wrong with you? Normally you wait until the date day. You still have 5 days before we can meet up.”

“Send me the address please. I’m coming over right now.”

Then he hung up the phone and left you confused. Maybe he was just drunk or something? Or maybe he just needed money and forgot how to ask. You shrugged it off and sent him some cash over the usual app before you tried to settle down on the couch. A few seconds later you got a text from him in all caps that read: I NEED THE ADDRESS, NOT MONEY. SEND IT NOW. You sighed and sent him the address. He was at your door in 30 minutes flat. “Kai?” He dropped a bag of things and collapsed into your chest, nearly knocking you backward.

-That was the day you found out he needed more touch and attention as a form of spoiling as well. Maybe all the years of neglecting touch have lead him to this. Maybe he was trying his hand at giving you a little more sugar before asking for cash. Either way, you were happier to go along with it when he was sweeter like this. 

-Since then, the relationship shifted just a bit towards him asking kindly when he really needed it and him also asking to be taken care of from time to time as well. No matter the mood he was into, you couldn’t be happier to go with the flow

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

[meganlpie]

A Diary

A Wattpad request! I do not own Tony Stark. He belongs to Marvel. 

Warnings:Body-Switching AU, slight angst and some fluff

Pairings: Tony Stark x fem!reader

When Bruce’s experiment went wrong and Tony woke up in your body, he thought it was going to be the worst day in the world. He certainly wasn’t equipped to be in a woman’s body, let alone yours. And seeing you in his body was weird. But it was all made better when he realized he had an opportunity.

         You hated Tony. That much was obvious to the genius. You never let a moment pass that you didn’t let him know that. So Tony had decided to act like he hated you right back. The two of you fought constantly. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Tony had been harboring feelings for you almost from the moment you met. Since you hated him though, he wasn’t about to tell you that. Instead, he gave as good as he got from you.

         So now that he was in your body and you were in his, it was the perfect opportunity for some sabotage. Maybe he’d try to convince Cap or Sam that you were head over heels in love with them. Or maybe he’d take your body to the salon and have them do something outrageous with your hair. The possibilities were endless. He didn’t realize that you had the same idea.

         All day long, the two of you did whatever you could to make each other look bad. At one point, Tony had Steve blushing furiously at something while you had Pepper smacking you over the back of the head. You’d then smirk at one another and continue on as if nothing had happened. By the end of the day, Tony was exhausted. It was difficult being a woman and making that woman’s life hell. Still, he felt victorious. That is, until he found your diary.

         He hadn’t meant to find it. In fact, he had intended on going into his own room. But Steve found him. “Uh, Y/N? Why are you going in Tony’s room? You’re not going to prank him again, are you?” Tony’s eyes went a little wide. “Of course not. I was just…never mind. He’s probably in the lab anyway.” With that, Tony scurried off to your room.

         He was surprised at how simply the room was decorated. You had a few odds and ends, but really there wasn’t much to it. What stuck out to him was the open drawer of your nightstand. Everything else was in its place so why was the drawer open? Unable to contain his curiosity, Tony peeked inside. He found a few pens and pencils, a bookmark, along with the book you were currently reading. Then, under that, Tony found an unmarked book. He opened it and realized it was your diary.

         A smile made its way onto Tony’s face. No doubt there were some juicy details written in that book. Flipping through the pages, he stopped when he saw his name.

I start working with the Avengers today. They are all so amazing. Especially Tony Stark. He’s brilliant and gorgeous. Hopefully I can get into the groove with these guys.

         Tony smiled. You thought he was brilliant? What had happened then? Why did you act like he was the scum of the earth? He kept on reading. The next entry with his name was dated a couple months later.

Why does Tony hate me? I don’t understand it. I know I’m pretty shy and that I don’t worship the ground he walks on, but still. I don’t recall doing anything to make him hate me so much. I guess I’ll just stay out of his way and not make it obvious that he’s hurting me. I won’t let him know that it kills me that he doesn’t love me the way I love him.

         Tony stopped reading after that. You didn’t hate him at all. You loved him. You really loved him. And here he was acting like a prick. You were just giving back was he was giving. Tony had really dropped the ball and now he had to make it right. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., locate Y- I mean, locate Tony Stark.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave him your-his location and he ran off to find you. It was difficult for him to run in your body, but he managed.

         Tony found you in the living room. You were sitting in a recliner staring out the window. “Y/N?” You looked up and gave him a half-hearted frown. “What do you want, Tony?” He pulled you up and to him. To your surprise, he wrapped you up in a hug. It felt odd hugging yourself. “W-What are you doing?”

         "I’m not good at apologies, so just let me do this, okay?“ You pulled away with a look of confusion. "Apologies? What are you apologizing for?” Tony looked up at himself and sighed. “For being an ass. I don’t hate you, Y/N. Far from it. In fact, I could go so far as to say I lo-”

         "Don’t. Don’t say it, Tony. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me. Why are you suddenly trying to be nice and tell me that you…“ you trailed off and stared at him with wide eyes before continuing, "Oh. My. God! You read my diary, didn’t you?!” Tony had the decency to look ashamed. “A little. I was curious as to why you hated me. Only I learned that you don’t. You were only responding to my treatment of you. Which I was only doing because I thought you hated me.”

         You laughed. “I guess we really got our lines crossed, huh?” Tony smiled and nodded. “We did. I am sorry, Y/N. If that helps. I do love you. I have for a long time.” You glanced down at him with a grin. “I love you too, Tony.” Tony pulled you close again. “I may have to kiss you now.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I may have to let you.” You and Tony leaned in and let your lips meet. It was wonderful. Soft and sweet and just perfect.

         When you opened your eyes you laughed in surprise. You were you again. Tony felt his face and smiled. He was himself again. Without waiting another second, he grabbed you again and planted a firm kiss to your lips.

(a/n: I really hope you enjoy it! I’m getting through the last bit of these old requests as quickly as possible so I can start on the new ones.)

Tagging: @brewsthespirit-blog @esoltis280 @aikibriarrose @jotink78 @ghostie-writes @iwillbeinmynest @mala-firebringer