#I adore how they kept building onto their base idea

[selemina]

Parkour Civilization is weirdly good! It starts a bit cliché and predictable, and you soon wonder how far this initial idea can go.

And then they pull out the parkour battles.

And then they pull out dystopian themes.

And then you get invested in the execution of the courses.

And then they slap you with lore for the world and high stakes and clever problem-solving alongside some ridiculous deus ex machina, and intrigue and mysteries and-

AND THEN THEY SLAP YOU WITH THE MURDER CLOWN???

(And if you squint there may even be some yaoi in there? But for once I genuinely could not care because I was enjoying the story too much!)

Go watch it. If you've got the time and can ignore inordinate amounts of vine booms, go watch it. It's worth your time if only for the humor and skill display!

[writingfics-passingtime]

Look at you superpowering your way through that fic. I haven’t had time to read in sooo long but I’m definitely going to put some aside to read OTR parts 2 & 3 as I adored part 1. Anyway, here’s my prompt for the song request! The song is Hey Girl by Stephen Sanchez (my little sister’s wedding song apparently, though she’s also said that about a hundred other songs lol), & the character is Andrew’s Spiderman. Have fun!

Head in the Clouds

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Hey Girl - Stephen Sanchez

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

Word Count: ~2000

CW: mentions of crime and death

Note: Cas, do forgive me for the fact that this took nearly two years. I hope it was at least a little bit worth the wait. Thank you for sharing this song with me, it is so sweet and tender and this idea flowed out of me. Hope you like it!

The subway car hummed with the rhythm of its own chaotic life. Peter sat slouched against the seat, his head low, the rim of his hood shadowing his face.

He didn’t want to see the city today.

Didn’t want to see the ghosts that lingered in the faces of strangers, or worse, the ones that followed him like a haunting memory. The night before replayed in loops that wouldn’t stop. The mugging. The panic. The older woman he couldn’t save.

He curled his fingers into fists inside his jacket pockets, the faint tremor in them making him nauseous. Every sound - the faint screech of the rails, the muffled conversations, the hiss of air brakes - rubbed raw against his frayed nerves.

Then you stepped onto the train.

Peter didn’t look up at first. He was too lost in the cavern of his thoughts. But something shifted in the air - subtle, like the faintest hint of a spring breeze brushing through a winter morning. A quiet presence, steady, unassuming. You sat across from him, balancing a sketchbook on your lap, pencil already in hand. He caught a glimpse of your headphones, wires trailing into the folds of your coat. Whatever you were listening to must’ve been good, because your lips tilted faintly upward, your expression soft and serene.

For a while, he didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare look too long, didn’t dare make himself known. But his gaze kept drifting toward you, a fragile kind of curiosity building in his chest. You weren’t just sitting there, zoning out like everyone else. You were drawing.

Peter watched the way your pencil glided across the page, your hand light but sure, creating shapes and shadows that looked effortless. You tilted your head, studying someone across the car - a man in a rumpled suit who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Peter saw the way you captured him on the page, not cruelly, not mockingly, but with a surprising kind of reverence. You made him look… important. Worthwhile. Seen.

His chest tightened. How long had it been since he’d felt like that?

The train jostled, and you didn’t even flinch. Your hand adjusted, your lines precise. You worked quietly, invisibly to everyone else, but not to him. Peter watched the way your brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the way your lips twitched when you got a line just right. There was something almost magical about it - the way you turned the mundane into something remarkable.

The man you sketched got off at the next stop, and Peter thought maybe that would be it. Maybe you’d close the book and tuck it away. But you didn’t. Your gaze wandered briefly, settling somewhere near him, though not directly on him. He held his breath as you started to draw again.

Was it him?

Peter’s heart thudded. He resisted the urge to pull his hood tighter, to shrink into himself. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, letting the rattle of the subway mask the sound of his shallow breathing. He dared a glance down at your page. The lines were faint but unmistakable - long limbs, slouched shoulders, a figure weighed down by invisible burdens. You captured him, but not the way he saw himself. You didn’t draw the guilt, the failures, the shame. You didn’t draw Spider-Man. You drew Peter Parker - someone who was tired, yes, but still human. Still real.

Something inside him cracked.

Weeks and months passed, and Peter found himself noticing you more and more. He couldn’t explain it. The way you seemed to bring light to such an ordinary space felt like a balm to his fractured world.

if he was really lucky, he’d end up in the same train car as you once a week.

Still, every morning, he looked for you, his chest tightening each time he spotted your familiar frame, your sketchbook in hand. Sometimes, he’d catch glimpses of your work - portraits of subway performers, a mother holding her baby, a tired worker slumped against a pole. Every face told a story. Every face mattered.

One morning, Peter’s resolve crumbled entirely. He hadn’t slept. The weight of his failures clung to him like a second skin. He barely managed to drag himself onto the train, collapsing into a seat near the door. He pulled his hood low, resting his elbows on his knees, his head hanging in defeat. The last thing he wanted was to be seen.

But then you sat down next to him.

Peter froze. He didn’t dare turn his head, didn’t dare look at you directly. But he could feel you there, close enough that the faint smell of your shampoo reached him - a hint of something floral and clean. Your sketchbook was open again, your pencil moving with quiet purpose.

This time, he couldn’t resist. He risked a glance from the corner of his eye. You weren’t looking at him - your gaze was focused on a mother and her young son sitting a few seats away. The boy was clutching a balloon, his wide eyes full of wonder as he chattered about something Peter couldn’t hear. You smiled faintly as you worked, capturing the scene with the same delicate care as always.

Peter’s chest ached. How did you do it? How did you see the world this way, even when it was so often cruel and unforgiving? How did you find beauty in the cracks and crevices, in the quiet, unremarkable moments no one else noticed?

The train lurched, and your pencil slipped. You frowned, erasing the errant line with quick efficiency before continuing. Peter almost smiled at your determination. For the first time in days, the heaviness in his chest lifted, if only slightly.

And then, as if sensing his gaze, you turned. Your eyes met his, and Peter’s breath caught.

You didn’t say anything - your headphones still nestled in your ears - but your expression softened, your head tilting slightly in silent acknowledgment. Peter felt a lump rise in his throat. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words tangled up inside him. Instead, he gave you the faintest of nods.

You smiled, small but genuine, and turned back to your sketchbook. Peter let out a breath he’d been carefully holding. The train rattled on, the city blurring past the windows, but for once, he didn’t feel lost in the noise.

He watched you sketch, the quiet rhythm of your pencil grounding him, reminding him that there was still beauty in the world. Still hope.

Still something worth fighting for.

The next time Peter saw you, something was wrong.

The train doors slid open, their mechanical groan pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced up instinctively, eyes scanning the platform. And then there you were - only you weren’t quite you.

Your usual energy, that quiet, creative spark that seemed to light up the gray monotony of the subway, was missing. You stepped onto the train slowly, your shoulders slightly hunched. No sketchbook was tucked under your arm. No pencil rested behind your ear. Your hands clutched the straps of your bag, gripping them tightly as though they might anchor you to something solid.

Peter sat a few seats away, unnoticed. At first, he wasn’t sure it was really you. The vibrance he had grown accustomed to - seeing you sketch, lips sometimes moving faintly to the rhythm of your music - was gone. You sat down heavily, not directly across from him this time, but on the opposite side, a few spaces to his left, staring down at your lap.

You fiddled absently with your bag’s straps, the leather creaking under your restless fingers. The movement was almost hypnotic. You were present but not here, your gaze vacant and distant. Your headphones were in, the faintest buzz of music leaking out, but whatever song you were listening to clearly wasn’t helping.

Peter’s chest tightened. Seeing you like this felt like seeing a bird with its wings clipped, something small and free now tethered to the ground. He’d never spoken to you, but in the months he’d spent in your presence, you’d become a quiet constant, a beacon of life in his otherwise heavy days. You made the world look softer. Brighter. Now, you looked like the light inside you had been dimmed.

He couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t just sit there.

Peter’s fingers twitched against his thighs. What could he do? He wasn’t sure what had happened to you - whether it was something big, or just the weight of a bad day. But the thought of you sitting there, carrying whatever invisible burden had settled on your shoulders, made him ache in a way he didn’t quite understand.

His eyes dropped to his backpack, slumped against his feet. An idea - reckless, impulsive - began to form. Slowly, as inconspicuously as he could manage, he unzipped the bag and rifled through it.

Books. Notes. Crumpled papers. Pens. He didn’t have much to work with, but he didn’t need much.

He found a scrap of paper tucked between the pages of his physics textbook - half an old assignment, blank on the back - and a cheap blue pen that was on the verge of running dry. He hesitated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You hadn’t moved. Your hands still toyed with the straps of your bag.

Peter straightened in his seat and pressed the paper against his knee, clicking the pen. His heart thudded as he bent over the makeshift canvas.

He wasn’t an artist. Not like you. His lines were awkward, shaky. The pen smudged slightly, leaving faint streaks on the page. But he kept going. He drew the way your hair framed your face, the slight downward tilt of your head, the way your hands gripped your bag. He tried to capture the quiet sadness in your posture without letting it define you, the same way you’d drawn others with tenderness and care.

It wasn’t good. It wasn’t even close to good. But it was something.

The train slowed, brakes screeching as it approached his stop. Peter hurried to finish, his fingers trembling slightly as he folded the paper in half. He shoved the pen back into his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder, standing as the train lurched to a halt.

His eyes flicked to you one last time. You still hadn’t looked up.

He didn’t think. He just moved.

As he stepped toward the doors, he passed your seat, hesitating for only a fraction of a second. Then he dropped the folded paper into your lap, the motion quick and deliberate, a secret passed between strangers.

You startled, your fingers freezing mid-fidget. Your gaze lifted briefly, confusion flickering across your face as you looked at him. But Peter didn’t stop. He kept walking, his heart pounding in his ears.

The doors slid open, and he stepped out onto the platform.

He didn’t look back.

Inside the train, you blinked, staring down at the folded paper in your lap. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to make of it. You glanced toward the doors, catching a glimpse of the guy in the hood as he disappeared into the crowd.

Curiosity tugged at you. Slowly, you unfolded the paper.

The drawing stared back at you - a clumsy but earnest portrait of yourself, captured in pen on a crumpled scrap of paper. The lines were uneven, the proportions a little off, but there was something in the image that stopped you cold.

The figure in the drawing looked… real. Recognizable. But there was more to it than that. He hadn’t just drawn you - he’d seen you. Even in the shaky lines and imperfect strokes, there was care. There was tenderness.

There was hope.

You pressed your lips together, your vision blurring slightly as your grip tightened on the page.

For the first time that day, something inside you felt lighter.

On the platform, Peter shoved his hands into his pockets, walking briskly toward the stairs. He didn’t know if you’d unfold the paper. He didn’t know if it would mean anything to you.

But he hoped it did.

And for the first time in a long while, Peter felt like maybe, just maybe, he’d done something right.

[sweet-villain]

End Of A New Beginning~ D.M

Author's Note : This is based on a dream I had and broke my own heart through the whole day.

Summary : Basically you wrote a song about your boyfriend, and you want to propose to him. He says no.

Tags : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead

Angst

You nervously sat in the driver seat as you waited for Dacre to come out. He had to go into a meeting while asking if you could pick him up. You were happily to, you had a day off from work. The thing that made you nervous was sitting in the glove box, a little small box with a question you wanted to ask him for awhile. You felt like it was the right time.

He ran out of the building not wanting to keep you waiting as he rushed to the car. He climbed into the passenger side shooting you a smile.

" Hi love" he says as he reaches over placing a kiss on your lips. You giggled against his lips. Just the sight of him brought you so much happiness. " Hi baby" you pecked his lips as he buckled himself in.

The sweet wood scent hit your nose mixture of him brought warmth. You loved the way he smelled, it felt like home. He was home to you.

" You ready to go?" you asked. " Have everything?" he patted his pockets making sure he got his phone, wallet and anything else he needed. He nodded.

You started the car, hearing it beep as it roared to life. He was staring out the window as you pulled out of the parking spot and onto the road, heading home. The ride went by smoothly but your stomach tied in knots as you were getting closer to home.

He kept looking over at you from time to time not really understanding why there is silence in the car. The thought of something being wrong has ran through his mind. His eyebrows knitted together as he tried to place what he did wrong or said something wrong. But it wasn't what he said or did wrong, it's the question you wanted to ask him.

He had no idea what was coming. You were afraid.

You parked the car in front of the house that you and Dacre had moved into last year. You can taste the iron on your lip from biting on it too hard and you eyed the way your hands shook.

" What's going on? You have been quite the whole ride home and have not said a thing" he turned to face you with worry written on his face. Oh Dacre, he cared so much about you. He always knew when something was off about you.

" I might have written a song for you and I'm nervous" his whole face changes from worried to a chuckle. " You had me worried for a moment there" he says, shaking his head. But you weren't laughing. It's the last line that worries you.

" Put it on" he says, " I can't wait to hear it" you turned the knob to play the song. You already had set it up for him to hear. The music flows through the car and he smiles instantly. He loves it when you write music about him. It was like a little gift you were giving him and he adored you so much.

The lyrics began to flows as he listened, smiling wide hearing about when you first met him, the first date, the fist kiss, how lucky you are too have him. His blue eyes are shining with tears as he hears the happiness behind the lyrics. He hears the love you have for him in your voice.

You were nibbled on one of your nails as you looked at him when it got to the lines.

" At moments like this, I want to call you forever mine. Will you be my husband for life?" you reached over to open the glove box and there staring right into his face is the little box that held the ring. The ring you wanted to propose him with. His breathe hitches when his eyes spot the box.

His head turns to look at you but you are already looking down at your lap with your stomach tied in knots and heart racing like you were about to throw it up. The song has finished and silence filled the car.

" You're not serious, are you?" He asks. His hands remain in his laps, his heart is racing but he feels his stomach drop to the ground. You wanted to marry him? That was a big commitment.

You rose your head to meet his blue worried eyes. His face goes blank seeing the tears filling up in your eyes. He knows you aren't joking right there and he swallows the lump in his throat.

" No" he says. The one word that breaks your heart. Tears run down your cheeks as you take the keys out of the key hole and slide out of the car. He didn't want to marry you. He didn't want you. Did he even care that you wanted this?

He watched you run inside the house without another word at him. He unbuckles the seat belt and he get out of the car. The breeze kissing his cheeks as he makes his way to the front door. The door creaks open as he steps inside, tripping almost over your shoes as they laid by the door. He sighed and bend down putting them away from you and rolls his eyes seeing your jacket on the floor, next to the stairs.

You hear him come into the front door but you were too busy shoving clothes into your bag. The tears were running like waterfalls and your hands shook. You had no reason to stay in the same house as he is. You needed to get out of here. You didn't even bother to look at what bag you took to even notice you had taken his gym bag and shoved your clothes into it.

Dacre was downstairs in the kitchen with his back to the sink as he looked up at the ceiling with his arms across his chest. He bite down his bottom lip as he debating how to approach you with this topic. He didn't see what was the point of getting married. He believed in continue to dating with no other label needed. He didn't believe a piece of paper would justify anything.

You on the other hand wanted a wedding. You wanted to call him your husband. You wanted to see him in tears when he saw you in your wedding dress. You wanted to be walked down by your father, seeing everyone in tears and you wanted this more than anything.

You closed up the bag and hung it over your shoulder as you walked out the bedroom, sniffling and heading downstairs. Dacre head turned hearing you walk down the stairs and the small sniffles from you. His heart clenched hearing you were crying over him and over this.

" Baby" he calls you. But you don't respond putting on your shoes with the bag by your feet. His socked feet hit the floor as he followed the sniffles coming from you. He stopped in his tracks seeing his gym bag by the floor and you are putting on shoes.

" What are you doing?" he asks. You weren't responding to him as you grabbed your jacket off the hook that he put on. His heart sank to his stomach as fear over took him. " Baby?" he tried again as he calls out to you but you weren't giving him the time or even a glance. Your hand gripped onto the bag and that's when you felt the tug.

He was tugging the bag off your shoulders and hanging onto it as he waited for you to turn around to look at him.

" Where are you going?" he asks, his own voice cracking as his breath hitches. He blinked his eyes feeling the tears coming. His worst fear was coming true. You were leaving him.

" Away" your own broken voice answered him staring at the door. It was more interesting at the moment than his face. He tugged on the bag and you stumbled on your feet. He catches you and turns you around to face him. His blue eyes are glossy and his bottom lip is trembling as he takes you in. He takes in your red puffy eyes, the tears that keep going and the way your dry, bitten lips look. It's the heart breaking look on your face that tells him he chose the wrong thing to answer.

" Away where?" he asks. He was afraid of your answer.

" From you" his eyes blinked away the tears, one manages to escape sliding down his cheek as he looks down at you. " Baby.." he says as he cups your face with both his hands.

" Let's talk about this" you shook your head as you pulled away from him. " There is nothing to talk about, we both want different things in life."

" Y/N, please.." he begs you.

" I can't do this anymore, Dacre. I want to marry you, I do. I want to see you wearing a tux waiting for me as my father walks me down. I want to see you cry over how beautiful I'll look in a wedding dress. I want to call you my husband. I want a forever with you but as my husband"

He is loss at words, " That's it then?" he asks. " You're leaving me?"

" I love you Dacre, I do. But I need some time to think about this. Maybe I'll get over the fact that you don't want to marry me, maybe I'll be back. Maybe I'll call you or maybe I'll be back for my stuff."

" Please don't leave me" his knees buckle as he wraps his arms around your waist. His head is buried in your stomach as he looks up at you. His blue eyes are teary with fresh tears, " Please" he begs as he shakes his head, " I love you so much."

Those words meant everything to you but they no longer held onto the meaning you thought. If he did love you, he would marry you. You have been with him almost three years, his family loved you, everyone loved you and you felt like you weren't good enough for him if he didn't want this commitment.

" Let go" you say, prying his hands off of you but he held onto you tighter. " No! Please!" he says grabbing onto your hands as he stands up from the ground.

" Stay, please.." he begs. You step into his space and lean up on your toes as you lay one small kiss on his lips. " I will always love you, thank you for giving me the love I deserved all these years.."

" Don't say goodbye, don't" he begs, his lips brushing against yours. They are salty and wet as he kisses you, a small peck.

" Goodbye Dacre" you kiss him one more time and grabbed your bag making your way to the front door. He sobs as he races to the door and after you, begging you to stay and begging you that he would change his mind.

" Please.. I love you" he begs through his tears. Your own tears blur your vision as you push him away. You threw the bag inside your car and closed it.

" Let me think about this, don't leave me" he collapses on his knees again as his body shakes. His heart shattered in two as he hears the car start. You were really leaving him. The box in the glove box is still there.

You grab it as you throw it out of the window having no use of it anymore. It's only a few feet away from his vision and he takes it into his hands just as you drive off. He opens it and it's a silver band with your initials and his together with a heart.

" I'm so sorry.." he cries through his tears.

[cata-daily]

I wondered how long it'd take for me to transcribe a part of the terroguelike video.. It took about 25 minutes for this, which is the start until the ending of the first biome, or 2:58

My only excuse is that I like listening to british people talk lmao

Oh. And by the way, being on that 15 hour flight knowing that the video was out was so painful..

You may have heard that AquaSG recently came out with a video for a mod- I didn’t see that coming, did you?? *chuckle Terra-roguelike. It’s exactly what you think it is! It’s terraria, but roguelike! How ever would you have worked that one out if I hadn’t have told you? The objective of this mod is very simple! Get from the beginning to the end- that’s about the best that I can put it Defeat rooms full of enemies and get an item! Go to the next room, kill off the enemies, pick up an item, kill off the next room, full of enemies, pick up an item- It’s kind of rinse and repeat, until you get to a boss and then move onto the next stage! Pretty easy concept again actually, so let’s begin!

To start off we did the most important thing, building our character! I named this one “Dusty”, and we went with Full Moon mode first, before Blood Moon, I need to know what I’m getting myself into I then waste a small amount of time, decorating my character- only to immediately join into the world and cover it up in vanity! Why do I even bother?! I’m not going to lie, I have no idea how to word this or even script this out, so we’re just going to go completely rogue! Like. Nyeeeehhheheheh-

After clearing our very first room, we got a sanguine orb. This thing deals bleeding damage every single time you attack something. And, I didn’t realise at first, but it doesn’t go in your accessories. Even though I tried multiple times. You’d think you’d learn the first time but no- I just kept on trying to put it in! And with the next two rooms out of the way I was given a tapeworm- which, t-um, questionable things happened to it. Ooh, it’sa, it’sa, it’s a tapeworm! I’ll shove this right up my ass! During the next few rooms I even tried the melee. It didn’t take long for me to change my mind about that, getting too close to these things, it just doesn’t seem like a very good idea-haha, so uh, we’re just sticking to the gun. To be honest with ya I think the gun is mostly the go-to in this… melee just doesn’t seem like a very good idea. And then we reach the first boss of this roguelike! The paladin! Something I adore with this mod so far, is the bosses! They are brilliant, to say the least. Apart from one. Find out about that later. Like what, how is the- how is that possible?! They really are so unique when it comes to bosses, like mister paladin over here, ramming with his shield, throwing axes at you (wait a minute that’s in the base game), lunging into the air and causing a shockwave, showering the area with boulders. It’s small, but it’s brilliant! Even though the sneaky paladin did get a good hit on me at one point- the entire time it’s been charging across the floor it’s stayed on the floor, so I decided to hide up these stairs thinkin I’d be nice and safe, and the bastard went up the stairs and rammed me. Cheeky sod! I got my own back for it later though, cause he died. Heh! The item he gave me was a rare variant! You see, you have common, uncommon, and rares! Based on their colours, blue, green, red! And this red one grants me an extra 50% to my healing. That’ll be nice for later. Going through the portal wall, we end up in the crimson

[rendevousz]

mum?

mother figure!nat x fem!teen!reader

avengers x reader

req by @teenwonder ; i absolutely love the entire teams adoration for reader skfksngnsf its so cute! could i please request one a little more nat based? maybe r treats and loves nat like a mom but nat hadn’t noticed that before, and the whole team is like listing examples of how and why 🥺🥺🥺

summary: the four times you needed nat and the one time she admits that she needed you too.

warnings: blood, a random attack out of nowhere because i'm not creative, inaccurate writing of medical situations because i have no idea how those things work, also let's just pretend bruce was around during iron man 2 when tony still had palladium in his arc reactor, also inaccurate descriptions of palladium effects bcs i just...don't know much about palladium pls forgive me thanks, and idk any hospitals in new york/manhattan or even the states LMAO so uh bear with this, and last but not least, my inability to write good endings

word count: 5426

notes: that's a long ass warning nevertheless pls do enjoy this fic <3

"i'm going now, bye!" you bid the team who were having breakfast together, walking out of the common area.

"bye, cupcake! don't get into trouble, don't do what i'd do and definitely don't do what i wouldn't do." tony advised and you rolled your eyes because tony says that to you every morning before you leave for school.

"wait, don't forget your lunch!" nat stands up from her seat and grabs your lunch that she had packed, from the kitchen island, bringing it over to you. "thanks, nat!" you grabbed it, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

nat smiles at the action, turning around to walk back to her spot on the table, only to find the team staring back at her with knowing looks.

"what?"

"you know, you only need to sign a couple papers and the kid's all yours." tony states matter-of-factly. nat snaps her head towards the man, an incredulous look on her face. "what are you talking about?"

"we all see the longing looks on both your faces. she's dying for you to call her your daughter and you, her mother." clint explains and the others nodded in agreement.

"that's nonsense. she has wanda too," nat reasons, sitting back down. "i'm pretty sure she sees wanda as a sister considering how much she drags wanda with her whenever she's causing trouble around the tower." steve raises his brows at the redhead who was in denial.

"she sees you as her mother, nat. just accept it," wanda tells her, taking a sip from her glass. "really? name me one time she showed it." nat challenges them, not knowing that they've been watching your interactions with her for the longest time.

"you have no idea what you just got yourself into, romanoff," clint chuckles, cracking his neck and knuckles as if preparing for a fight.

"remember new mexico?" he smirks and nat only frowns, trying to remember.

i.

"no!" you screamed, dropping down to the ground. you didn't care that you scraped your knees doing that, the only thing that mattered was the overwhelming feeling of grief engulfing your whole being. tears streamed down your face as you looked at the debris on the ground, the remainder of what used to be standing in front of you; a building. blown up, now in ruins.

clint, bucky and steve watched you break down in front of them, their hearts breaking at the sight in front of them as well as the fact that their teammate had been caught up in the middle of the explosion.

"y/n/n? come on, tony's team called for back up. we gotta go," steve tried to get you to stand up, failing when you kept your ground. you screamed when he tried again and their hearts clenched at the heartbreaking sound.

"we can't just leave her! please, we have to find her," you cried, clinging onto steve's body as he ran his hand up and down your suit-cladded back to soothe you. "y/n/n, we can't. the whole place is in ruins now," he didn't want to say it but he had to. he had to in order to get you to leave. "she's gone."

"she can't be gone! she can't just leave us! we need her! i need her, stevie.." you cried into his chest and he had to control himself so he didn't cry right then and there too.

he looked up to see bucky looking at the two of you guiltily, tapping his wrist to indicate that they were running out of time. steve had no choice but to carry you in his arms, getting you to leave the site against your will. but you were too weak to fight back now. "what am i gonna do without her now, stevie?" you asked quietly.

"we're gonna be okay, y/n/n," he tells you, sitting you down on a chair and settling down next to you as clint flew the jet to your next location. the atmosphere was tense and you could tell everyone, too, was sad about this.

"what if we're not? what if we're not gonna be okay, stevie? i know i won't be." you wiped the tears streaming down your face despite the fact that your face still wasn't drying up any time soon.

"because nat wouldn't want to see us like this. she'll be angry if she sees that we're risking people's lives just because of her." he says truthfully.

"we're landing, guys." clint announces and the team prepared for another round of fighting. steve turns to you, wiping the tears on your face as he made you look up at him. "now let's save some people and make nat proud, yeah?"

you nod at him sadly, preparing your weapons. all of you got out the jet and the second battle of the day begun. boy, were these people unlucky because they were on the receiving end of your fury.

you were busy taking down a group of guards alone when you heard a familiar voice. "y/n, behind you!" and you turned just in time to take down a guard who was aiming at you.

you didn't even have time to register your shock of seeing the redhead because more guards came at you two. you guys fought alongside each other until all the men were taken down.

"nat?" you breathed out. "yes, bub?" she answers as you both carefully walked over the knocked out men. she was taken aback when you slammed into her, hugging her the tightest you ever did since you met her.

"please don't ever do that again." you mumbled into her chest. she was about to ask you what you meant when she heard you sniffling. figuring out it wasn't the appropriate moment to ask, she continued to just hug and comfort you in silence.

"wait, that was why she cried that day? because she thought i was in that building when it blew up?" nat asks after steve finished the story. "i never found out why because she never told me."

"yeah, you should've seen her when the building exploded. completely shattered my heart, dude." clint states, remembering the broken down state you were in that day.

"wait, did you guys not grief over my supposed death then?" nat glares at clint, bucky and steve. "in our defense, they were about to blow up about a hundred people, we didn't have much time to process the whole situation." clint tries to convince his best friend, only to receive a glare again from her.

"alright but just because she cried when she thought i was dead, doesn't mean she sees me as her mum. i'd cry too if any one of you guys died," she states, still in denial.

she did love you like how a mother would love her child. but she didn't want you to feel that she was forcing the title onto you. after all, you had so many other adults around you, who's to say that you saw someone else as a parent figure instead of her? she didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"woman, are you serious?" sam exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "need i remind you that the girl sacrificed her life for you?"

ii.

"nat, watch out!" you stood right behind her where the man was about to attack her. you gave him a harsh kick to the head and that was all it took for the man to go unconscious.

the redhead turned around, not having enough time to comprehend what had happened before you dropped into her arms. you two were lucky the last of the men had already been taken out.

"bub? what's wrong?"

at this point, you were fully leaning against her. she was holding up your whole weight, hands wrapped around your middle to support you. that was when she felt it. the familiar thick substance on her fingers, leaking from the back of your suit.

her eyes widened, pulling one hand away from you to look at it. red. her breathing picked up as one of her hands felt around your back, finally feeling the handle of a knife sticking out from your back.

your eyes were already drooping by now and she lightly shook you awake, careful to not hurt you. she lowered you down and you were both sat on the floor now.

she presses a finger to her ear and you could hear her voice echo in your ear from your own comms. "can someone come please," she paused, exhaling shakily. "y/n's down."

if it had been any other person, she probably would be bringing them to the jet by now but it was you. she didn't know what came over her but when she saw that you were injured, it was like her whole body shut down. her knees felt weak and she couldn't bring herself to move.

"hey, hey, keep your eyes open. can you do that?" she asked gently and you nodded weakly. "bub, why did you do that?" she cried softly, moving your hair away from your face as you leaned sideways against her. the action caused your face to be smudged by your own blood from her hands but she didn't care as she caressed your cheek.

"he–he was gonna hurt you. i–i couldn't..." you paused a while, the pain getting too much for you to bear. "y/n, don't strain yourself. you need to stay awake," she tells you as tears streamed down her face.

"rather me than you," you whispered. nat's eyes widened at this. "don't say that, bub." she scolds gently.

you smiled weakly at her. "i've grown too dependent on you, nat. it's to the point that i," you coughed and nat worried that you were straining yourself but you continued. "that i'd rather die than live without you. you probably can go on with life without me but i can't without you. i need you, nat." your eyes closed and nat panics, shaking your body.

"y/n?! bub?! stay awake, please, they're coming!" nat cries out loud, holding onto your limp body.

"did we not agree to not mention that to me anymore?" nat glares at sam for bringing that up.

the night of that incident had been one of the worst nights for nat. she sat by your bed all night after you had been treated. she had been the first one you saw after you woke up. she had been the one you broke down in front of after you admitted the full reasoning behind your actions. she had been the one who opened her arms for you to make yourself at home in.

"i'm sorry but you must be blind if you can't see how really she sees you for the past years," bucky states. nat turns to him with a glare. "you don't know what you're talking about."

"oh really? who does she call whenever she has a really bad nightmare?" bucky questions rhetorically with his eyebrows raised.

iii.

"no, please, don't!" you begged, asleep and thrashing around in your bed. quiet whimpers turned into heavy breathing as you plead for your life in your nightmare. "please," you whispered, inhaling and exhaling harshly.

FRIDAY, noticing the amount of distress you were in, alerted the closest person to your room, that being bucky who was returning from a late night trip to the kitchen for some water.

he quickly went into your room, only to see you shivering and thrashing around in your bed. "doll?" he approaches slowly, finding you still asleep, though sweating a lot. nightmare, he realised.

"doll? wake up," he gently shakes you and you immediately jolt awake, breathing heavily as you register what was going on. "it's okay, it was just a nightmare," he soothes you, holding you close as one hand rubbed up and down your back while the other held your head to his chest.

none of that helped as you were still in the same state as you were when you woke up. "are you okay?" he asks, worried. "nat... i need nat.. please i need her," you whimpered, shaking in his hold. you were having trouble breathing.

"FRIDAY, get romanoff."

within minutes, nat arrived, looking panicked and disheveled like she had just woken up, which she just did. "what's wrong?" she asks bucky, approaching you two.

"she was having a nightmare and woke up and i think she's having a panic attack. she asked for you," he informs her and immediately moves away when she approaches, so that she could take his place.

"bub? it's me," you look up to meet natasha's pretty green eyes. "you're okay, bub. can you tell me five thing you can see?"

you looked away from her eyes, looking around your room. "i–i see my book on my nightstand, my lamp, my jacket on the chair, my laptop and the painting on the wall." you told her after some difficulties.

"good, that's good. four things you can feel?"

"i feel the socks on my feet, my fluffy blanket, the pillow i'm leaning on and your hands around me."

she smiles softly at you. "three things you can hear?"

"i hear your voice. a–and the faint noise from the ac and i can also hear bucky's breathing." you look up at the man and he smiles sheepishly at you, standing around awkwardly. you gave him a small smile back.

"two things you can smell?"

"i can smell my own shampoo..and my room's air freshener." you told her more calmly now, feeling the panic attack already going away.

"one thing you want to taste?"

"i wanna taste wanda's blueberry pancakes." you pout and the two adults couldn't help but chuckle. "you can have them in the morning. right now you need to sleep so you can have the energy to devour them tomorrow, okay?" you nod at the woman as she tucks you in.

not long after, you fell asleep. she then presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving with a less worried bucky now. and sure enough, the next morning, wanda made you blueberry pancakes.

"okay, so what? we all need someone to help us through panic attacks?" nat rolls her eyes. "did you miss the part where i came in and tried to help but she specifically asked for you? she needed you, nat."

"guys, i... i love her with my whole heart but she has all of us. i don't wanna make her feel like she's restricted to only one of us. you all love her too," nat reasons.

"yes but she doesn't have anyone to call her mum and frankly, i think you'd be perfect for it." wanda encourages the older woman.

"i—" before she could continue, her phone rang loudly and she thanked whoever it was that called her because now she didn't have to make up excuses about her doubt of becoming your official mother.

iv.

she looks down at the caller id, sighing when it was you, meaning the team had more against her now. of course she didn't mind you calling her, you could call her when she'd be asleep after a mission and she'd still pick up with a smile on her face. but it was the fact that the whole team could see how she softened when she realised it was you who called that bothered her. she really didn't want them to let her have hopes that you'd accept her as your mother.

"bub?" she said into the phone and half the team smirked at her while the other half gave her knowing smiles. "aren't you supposed to be on your way to school?"

"yeah but uh are you busy right now? i um, i need you."

nat immediately stands up, worry etched onto her face and the team frowned at this. "what happened? are you okay?"

"you know how i told happy i wanted to walk to school today? yeah, i just remembered why i don't walk to school anymore."

"what do you mean? what happened? are you hurt? did someone hurt you?" she bombards you with questions out of worry. at this point, the team had also stopped their chatter and teasing looks, equally worried for your well-being.

"yeah, i am. wait, maybe not. i mean, i was just being dramatic but uh, i tripped on who-knows-what and now i have a sprained ankle. i can't walk now so i'm standing in an alley right now so i'm not in the way of people. can you come get me?"

nat sighs in relief, thankful that it wasn't anything that she was thinking of. "you are unbelievable, y/n." she chuckles in disbelief at your clumsiness. "can you tell me where you are? i'll come get you now. i'll have the school know you're not coming today." you told her your location and she immediately leaves after telling the team what happened to you.

you were expecting nat to call again, to tell you she was around the corner but instead you heard a whoosh of air beside your head, followed by a crack sound. your head followed the sound, eyes widening when you saw that a dart had struck the wall beside your head. you looked ahead, trying to see where that came from.

if it hadn't been for your fast reflexes being an avenger for the past few years, you probably wouldn't have ducked in time when another dart came flying right for your head. "what the hell?" you grunted, staying low but still looking around for the source. you squinted when you looked up, the sun blazing but you managed to catch a glimpse of a man on a rooftop nearby. he had blonde hair and was dressed in all black, donning a same coloured mask that covered the bottom half of his face.

"you had one job! how could you miss her twice?!" the blonde hears his colleague hiss in his ear through the earpiece. "i'm sorry! i'm no hawkeye, how was i supposed to get her in one try?!" he scolds back.

"you didn't even get her in two!"

"shut up and just let me work! you're distracting me!"

"hurry because i see the redheaded one nearing the alley. boss'll kill us if he finds out we didn't get her in her vulnerable state."

"i'm trying, i'm trying!" the blonde closes one eye, his sight now locked on your crouched state. he saw you move once you saw him and he cursed under his breath, his weapon following your movements. "she's moving!"

"just take the shot and be done with it! you have to go now!"

and shoot he did. after he shot the dart gun, he immediately fled but it wasn't like you were going to be able to chase him down or anything. a scream left your lips as a dart pierced through your skin, right under your shoulder.

you dropped down to the ground, right in the middle of the alleyway. you cried when you felt the burn in your flesh. you had been stabbed multiple times before with much bigger objects so why did this feel different?

"y/n?! is that you?!" you heard nat's voice yell from a small distance away. "i'm here," you croaked out, feeling your body grow weaker at an alarming rate.

"oh my god, bub, why are you on the ground? it's dirty, c'mon let's get you up. which foot did you sprain?" she places both her hands under your arms, pulling you up on your feet before accidentally dropping you back when you let out a shriek, crying out in pain.

"oh my god, did i hit your ankle? are you okay?" nat assumed that your tear-stained face was because of your sprained ankle but then you wheezed, your eyes drooping the longer she stood there.

your right hand slowly reached across your left shoulder, the butt of the dart sticking out of your skin now in between your shaking fingers. nat's eyes followed your hand movement's, a gasp leaving her lips.

"y/n, what happened?!" she panicked but before she could even get an answer from you, you had already blacked out. her eyes widened, knowing it was the dart because why else would you pass out that quick from a simple penetration in the shoulder. you had dealt with much worse than that and she knew your tolerance level.

she took off your bag, careful to not move the dart. she then placed her hands under your knees and behind your back, easily picking your unconscious body up and rushing back to the tower.

when she arrived, she was met with many confused yet concerned looks from the tower staff, seeing the black widow, rushing in with the youngest avenger unconscious in her arms. they had seen you leave the tower for school about half an hour ago so they knew something must've happened on the way.

"get bruce in the hospital wing. tell him it's urgent." she tells the woman working the front desk, hurrying into the elevator and telling FRIDAY to get her to the floor she so desperately wanted to arrive at quicker. black lines appeared on the left side of your neck, slowly spreading to the right side and she assumed it was from that damned dart in your left shoulder.

"natasha! what's wrong? they said it was an emergency," the doctor spoke in a panicked voice when nat entered, immediately going quiet when he saw you in her arms, neck lined with seemingly black veins.

nat laid you down on the surgery table, frown growing when black lines steadily spread to your arms now. though she was too worried to think, she managed to at least tell bruce what was outwardly wrong with you.

"dart. left shoulder." she blurted, incapable of forming proper sentences now that she had seen more of you. the black lining your skin got her speechless and anxious. bruce got ready with medical gloves, removing the dart from your flesh before analysing the pattern of your skin. it looked familiar.

"FRIDAY, get tony down here. it's urgent."

"bruce, please, what's wrong with her?" she cried, tears now freely streaming down her face. she didn't cry much in front of anyone but when it came to you, you always managed to get her to do just that.

"hey, what's going on? FRIDAY said there was an emergency here, who's hurt?" nat heard tony's panicked voice but she didn't make an effort to reply. her gaze was fixed on only you.

tony's jaw dropped, frowning when he saw you on the bed, upper body covered in black lines. "what the hell happened?!"

tony stepped beside bruce, taking a closer look at your skin. his frown deepened. "wait, it looks like.."

"yeah, looks exactly like when you had palladium instead of vibranium in your arc reactor."

"does that mean—"

"palladium's been running through her veins for about twenty minutes now. FRIDAY, how high is her blood toxicity level?" bruce asks, sampling a drop of your blood from when he took out the dart.

"53% and it is still steadily increasing."

"tony, at the rate it's going, if she's not treated in the next fifteen minutes or so, she'll.." bruce pauses, not wanting to say it out loud.

"no, she just needs lithium dioxide. that's how fury and i cured your palladium poisoning, tony." nat finally speaks.

"SHIELD probably has them but they're all the way in dc. they're not gonna reach here in time," tony states solemnly, reaching over to move your hair out of your face, looking down at you sadly.

but he was immediately pulled aside, nat grabbing his collar and looking him straight in the eyes. "you have your stupid iron suits that can probably travel faster than the speed of sound if you try. you can go down there yourself and get the damn thing. i swear to god, tony, i'm literally going to destroy those stupid suits myself if you don't put them to good use." nat threatens, glaring at the billionaire.

tony's eyes widened, the genius having not thought about nat's idea yet. "yeah, yeah, you're right, i'll go now."

he left immediately and nat approached your bed hesitantly, not wanting to see the black lines making home on the skin on your upper body. "do you think tony'll make it back in time?" she sniffles and bruce's worried frown on his face softened. "of course he will. he won't let anything happen to y/n. we won't let anything happen to y/n." he assured her.

there was nothing they could do now but wait for tony to come back with the lithium dioxide. nat sat beside your bed, hands gingerly grasping one of your own. despite the black staining it, nat held it to her face and her tears rolled past the back of your hand.

bruce decided to give her some privacy, opting to inform the whole team of the situation instead of standing around idly.

nat pulled your hand away from her face, rubbing her thumb over the back of it, crying even more at the sight in front of her. "y/n, please. i've never told you this but i need you." she pauses, breathing in shakily. "i've always needed you and i'll always need you. you can't leave me, please. you said i could go on with life without you but you're so wrong, y/n. you're the reason i'm still here and you're the reason i still want to be here. if you're not here then it's as if i have no reason, no purpose. i need you, y/n. so much more than i'd like to admit. heck, probably much more than you need me. so please, don't leave me. i can't do this without you." nat sobs out, watching the patterns on your skin spreading and growing bolder.

at this point, the whole team had now gathered outside of the room, watching nat cry over you. they wanted so bad to get a closer look at their beloved baby avenger but they respected nat and instead, waited for her to finish talking to you. once she stood up and looked around, bruce knew she was done so he entered, followed by the team.

"status, FRIDAY?" bruce asks, sampling a bit of your blood again. "blood toxicity at 96% now."

the team looked your unconscious body in apprehension, some crying and some worried out of their minds.

"goddamnit! where the hell is stark?!" nat growled. her eyes were now puffy after having spent the last half an hour crying. the team had never seen her lose her cool like this but they figured why.

as if on cue, tony's iron man suit crashed through the windows of the room but he couldn't care less. his main priority was to get to you quickly. in his hand was a silver briefcase that he passed to bruce.

bruce opened the case before wasting no time in plunging the syringe containing lithium dioxide, your supposed cure, into you. immediately, the black patterns on your skin started disappearing. it was slow but noticeable. it started from the tips of your fingers, going up towards your neck.

everyone sighed in relief, and to tony's surprise, nat hugged him tightly. "thank you. you have no idea how much this means to me." she whispers. tony pats her back gently. "hey, i care about her too, okay? of course i'd do this for her. any one of us would."

nat smiles at him when she let him go, turning back to you and almost crying out in joy when your skin had finally turned back to normal. she let the medical assistants set your bed up and handle your sprained ankle before going back to sit by you. the team left her alone with you once again.

it was only about an hour later did you wake up, squinting when bright lights shone down on you. you moved around but you felt hands around your left and you heard a familiar voice.

"and remember when you dragged wanda to pull that prank on me with you and after you did, i grounded you like i was your mum or something?" you hear her chuckle, still not noticing that you've woken up.

"i didn't mind, though. frankly, i don't think i would ever mind if you continued acting like my mother or something," you spoke and she immediately tore her gaze from your hands, looking at you, now wide awake.

"bub!" she hugs you so tightly you didn't think you could breathe. you still returned the hug though, laughing. "i was worried you might still have some palladium in your bloodstream."

"wait, palladium?" you asked her in shock. "yeah, the dart that got you in that alley, it contained palladium. it's highly toxic so we used lithium dioxide to counter it. speaking of the dart, i'm going to find out who did this to you and they're never going to see the light of day for putting us through all of this." nat says, disturbingly calm.

"yeah...you do that," you tell her, slightly scared. "but palladium? in my blood? how cool is that? i had literal metal in my blood! i could've become like tony but like...palladium woman or something." you said excitedly.

"you do know we already have metal in our blood, right bub?" nat questions in amusement. "oh." you say dumbly. "and palladium don't belong in our body and you literally almost died because of it." your mouth opened but no words came out.

"speaking of, can you please not do that again? i really thought i was gonna lose you." she whispers, stroking your hair. "oh yeah, of course. i'll just announce to the whole world to not target the youngest avenger," you joke, smile dropping when nat gave you a stern look.

"nat, being part of the avengers at my age undoubtedly means i'll be a target for the bad people out there, but i don't care because while i get to kick ass, i know all of you have my back when it's my ass that's kicked. and i think that's the best part of being an avenger; the sense of security i get having you amazing people as my teammates." you tell her honestly and she smiles softly.

"oh come here you," she pulls you in for another hug but this time it's better because you could still breathe. you make yourself comfortable, snuggling into her.

"did you mean it?" she asked and you look up at her in confusion. "mean what?"

"when you said you wouldn't mind me acting like your mother."

"of course i do, you're like the mother i never had. i wouldn't even mind you being my actual mother." you say without a second thought, eyes widening when you realised what you had said. you swore under your breath, knowing you've just made it awkward between you two.

"i– really?" despite the teams efforts to make her see the truth, it was much more meaningful when she heard you say it yourself. "y–yeah.." you admit sheepishly.

"then you wouldn't mind if i actually adopted you?" she asks carefully, gauging your reaction. your jaw dropped, eyes going wide once again. "are you serious?!"

"yeah." she smiles at you fondly. "no! of course i won't mind!" you hug her tightly, tears forming in your eyes. you had gone all your life without parents so this was a huge thing for you. not only were you going to finally have a mother, but the most amazing woman you knew was going to be your mother.

"mum?" you tested the title, smiling when she acknowledged it. you were now crying in joy.

"hey, don't cry." she soothes you, running a hand up and down your back. "no, no, i'm just so happy. this is the best day of my life." you tell her. "me too, bub."

you stayed in her arms until you fell back asleep, nat tucking you in before going back to sit down on the chair. she looked down at you fondly.

sure, she was scared of the big step she was about to take with you but she had you with her and she knew that was enough. "i love you, y/n." she whispers, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg @andreasworlsboring101 @cay-writes-fan-fiction514 @teenwonder @sevenmorningstars @fleurlovesbucky

[theshelbyclan]

Horse Thieves

Summary: The Shelby siblings are still building their imperium, and they need a horse to do it.

(Gif by @madshelby​)

A/N: I asked around a bit and people wanted to read a lot more about Teddy, so I decided to use this request by one lovely anon: Hello! I've never done a request for a fic before so please excuse me if this isn't the right way to do it 🙈 But I noticed your requests were open and read the prompts list you linked to for Shelby sister prompts - so can I request something that incorporates 7.“car. Now”, 8.“what story do you want tonight” and 14.“your heading the right way for a smacked backside”. Thank you! I decided to base this on this idea I had in the longer Teddy series, where she refers to a time when she stole a horse with Tommy. So see this as a prequel if you will, set before the series. Words: 2773

*** “Whatever you do, you’re not using Finn.” “I won’t…” “I mean it, Thomas,” Aunt Polly warned, “You’ve only been back for five minutes from France and I will not have you endangering my nephew, after I’ve kept him safe for fucking four years.” 

Tommy sighed, “Yes, I understand.” Polly looked at her nephew with a distrustful gaze, “Why do we need the horse?” “Betting’s down,” he slowly lit a cigarette, “We need our own. A horse that looks good. Convinces people to lay a bet.” She had to agree with that, “Where will you go?” “To the place where people most expect a horse to be stolen.” “Why?” “Hide in plain sight,” he pointed, “you taught me that.” “I thought I taught you everything…” Polly mused sternly. Tommy nodded slowly, “Maybe. And now I’m acting on it…” After a short pause, he said, “I’m gonna do it, Pol. I’ll make this family rich. Trust me.” “What about the little ones?” “I’m doing this for them, alright, so that they won’t have to grow up like we did!” Fire was burning in his eyes when he spoke, but Polly had never seen him quite like this. He was different these days. After pondering for a while, she said, “So tell me where.” Tommy took a deep breath, knowing she’d disapprove, “The fair.” “For fuck’s sake, Thomas!” *** “WELCOME TO THE FAIR!” Arthur bellowed, which scared most people in his vicinity away, but it made Teddy, who was used to it, literally jump for joy. Arthur grinned broadly and lifted his little sister up onto his shoulders, shouting, “Now look here, sweet girl, this is where we bloody come from and don’t you forget it!” “Arthur, can I have a candied apple?” Teddy asked him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse her anything when he was in a mood like this. “You can have all the apples, Teddy!” he replied with a grand gesture. John came walking besides them and quietly said to his brother, “They’re here.” “Good,” Arthur said uncharacteristically gently, and he lifted Teddy off his shoulders again, “Tommy’s in place.” “What about Finn, Arthur?” he said, playing with his toothpick. Arthur winked at his suddenly much younger brother, “Don’t worry, brother. He’s off playing with the Boswell kids. He’ll be no bloody trouble.” John grinned down at Teddy, “Unlike this one!” “You know why, John?” Teddy asked cheekily, “Because Finn is like Arthur, but I am like you!” John laughed manically out loud and Arthur bellowed, “She’s fucking right!” “How about that apple, Arthur?” Teddy asked innocently, quickly adding a, “Please?” “Wait here, princess.” As they continued walking, John took Teddy’s hand in his and said to her, “Look at all the horses, Teddy. Maybe one day you could have one of your own.” “But I already have the pony you gave me when you came back,” she looked up with adoring eyes. It was no secret that Teddy had four heroes in life, and those were her brothers. He looked down, “Yeah, but one day you’ll have a horse. Promise.” “John?” she asked, suddenly serious, “You won’t go away again, will you?” “Go where? Why would I leave my favourite little girl!” “You did before…” John stopped and turned to her, “Listen, that was the war… You know I don’t like talking about that…” “I know…” “But the war’s over. No more fucking mud for us, alright?” he said earnestly. He tried desperately to hide the pain he felt. Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry,” John blurted out all of a sudden, “I’m sorry we left you. We didn’t know… what it’d be… we thought it would be…” he simply couldn’t find the words. “I know,” she interrupted him in a high voice, “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, alright?” “Alright,” he smiled. Then he changed his tone again, happy to switch subjects, “Now, what story do you want tonight?” “One about a horse!” “How about we get you a real one?” John suggested light-heartedly.

Teddy giggled because she thought he was joking, slipped her hand into his again and started skipping. Then she looked over at Arthur, who was just in the process of stealing an apple for her. It was good to have her brothers back again. 

“Teddy?” John asked, “think you could do something for me?” “Like what?” “Tommy needs our help.” “With what?” her eyebrows shot up. John coughed once and waited for Arthur to join them, “Eat your apple. And listen, Tommy needs us to help him with something.” Mouth full of candied apple, “whaff kinf of somefingff?” “Just do as we tell you to,” John explained, “and then Tommy’ll tell you what to do.” Arthur nodded, “He’s already instructed us.” “Arthur,” John became unsure, “Are we really involving our eight-year-old sister in this?” “She’ll be fine, John-boy! She’s fucking smart, she is.” “I am,” Teddy replied proudly. The candied apple was nearly gone already.

“Alright, Teddy-girl, you listen to me, yeah?” John bend down to her level, “I need you to pretend you got lost, or maybe ask for help, or cry! Can you cry?” Teddy sniffled a little, “I’m not sure,” she then said in her normal voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t! Just scream a lot, alright?” “Wait!” she said, “Give me a second….” And she pouted her lips again, scrunched up her nose and suddenly tears were falling down her cheeks. “Bloody hell…” Arthur mumbled, as he turned to John, “you fucking created a monster.” “I’m crying!” Teddy said triumphantly through her tears, “Now what?” John shook her head to banish the emotions he felt over seeing his baby sister cry, “Go to Tommy.” Teddy quickly darted off and went in search of her other brother. When she found him, she announced herself with, “Look, Tommy, real tears!” “What the fuck?” Tommy replied in shock, “What happened, tell me now!” “Nothing!” she quipped, “John made me.”   “I’ll fucking kill him,” her brother said automatically, “Did he throw you up in the air again?” Teddy grinned, “No, and besides that doesn’t make me cry…” “It did when you broke your arm.” She waved a disinterested hand, “Fine. But I mean he told me to cry because you needed a disattraction! “Distraction.” “Yes!” Tommy knelt down and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, first things first, you can never, ever tell Aunt Polly about this, do you hear me?” Teddy nodded obediently. “I mean it Teddy. She’ll have my fucking balls…” A high voice replied, “Which balls?” He sighed deeply again, regretting his words intensely, “Listen to me, eh? Don’t tell Aunt Pol.” “I will,” but a vague twinkle had come into Teddy’s eyes the second she realised her big tough brother was scared of Aunt Polly too.

Tommy lifted up Teddy and she rested on his hip, hugged close by his arm. She could vaguely smell his hair, his cigarette and a whiff of horse on him. This was her brother, who’d been gone for two whole years. She was only little when he’d gone, but Teddy remembered she cried a lot. All she ever wanted at night was for John to play with her and for Arthur to sit with her and for Tommy to tell her stories. She and Finn used to curl up together and cry. But now he was home, not the same, but still home.

“See them?” Tommy pointed, with a smile playing about his lips like he used to have all the time before the war, “See that family?” Teddy followed his hand with her eyes, “Yeah, the ones with the man with the blue scarf?” “That’s the one,” he nodded, “I need you to distract them.” “Why?” “So I can take their horse.” Teddy turned to face Tommy, and as she grinned, his face lit up as well, “Are we going to steal the horse, Tommy?” Teddy whispered excitedly. “Yes.” She lowered her voice even more, “just you and me?” Softly, he planted a kiss on her head, “Can’t do it without you…” Couldn’t do any of this without you here, he thought, but didn’t say it. “Alright,” he continued, “I’m going to talk to the man with the scarf. Meanwhile, John and Arthur are going to pick a fight with some other men, over by the candied apples, you see?” “That’s why I got an apple…” Teddy mused, slightly disappointed. Tommy quickly got her attention back, “I’ll be talking to him about this other family I know,” he waved a hand, “it’ll be something useless, but I’ll get him to walk away. John-boy is itching to punch someone, so he will, don’t get scared, alright?” Teddy frowned, “I’m not scared of John.” “Now, you see that horse, the black one, by the water?” She peered through the crowd of people and finally caught a glimpse of the beauty. Her eyes lit up in a way that only the Shelby’s eyes light up when looking at a horse. “There’s two boys with him. I need you to go to them. Make sure they walk away from the horse.” “Tommy…” Teddy thought out loud, “Won’t they know it was us?” He smirked at his sister’s intellect, “No. They don’t know us. Besides, they’re feuding with another family here. There’s a war coming, but we won’t be involved this time. Don’t worry about it, eh?” “Why are they fighting, Tommy?” she was not letting it go so easily. “Because I made it happen.” Then he walked a few feet so that they were both hidden from sight, “Now, I need you to distract the boys, and maybe some of the women as well. Cry, if you can, and if anything goes wrong, scream. I know you’re good at that…” “Who will take the horse?” “Johnny Dogs will. He’s close by,” Tommy leaned his forehead onto Teddy’s, “Think you can do it?” “Yes!” “Not too scared?” “Never!” Teddy replied enthusiastically, which slightly worried Tommy, but instead he said, “Go on.” So Teddy walked out behind the tent on her own and started thinking sad thoughts, just to make the tears come easily later on. There wasn’t much need for them though, because as soon as she approached the boys who were washing the horse, one called out, “Piss off!” “Fuck you!” Teddy replied in a flash, “This is free land and I’m a free woman!” she heard Aunt Polly say that once, “I’ll go where I fucking please!” One of the boys pushed her and angrily Teddy shoved him back. Then the second one came for her, and Teddy suddenly remembered her mission. So against all of her instincts, she let herself be pushed to the ground and started howling as soon as she landed. Immediately heads turned and Teddy cried like she hadn’t done in two years, “They pushed me!” But somewhere from out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur arguing with someone and John landing a punch, almost in slow-motion, and she knew everything went according to plan. “Did not!” the boy protested nervously, “she started it!” Teddy curled up a little and held onto her leg like it was hurting, while trying to make herself as small as possible, “It hurts…” “What have you done!” a strange woman called out to one of the boys, who shrunk visibly as soon as he heard her voice, “fighting little girls now, are you?!” “I didn’t, ma! She started it!” but before he could finish his sentence, he’d gotten the first smack around the head. One down, one more to go. So Teddy upped the tears and it worked beautifully: the second boy didn’t wait for his mother to hear, but decided to run instead. Slowly, Teddy started to calm down, because if she just stood up now and showed it was all fake, everything would’ve been for nothing. She made that mistake once with Finn, and she wouldn’t be doing so again. After about a minute, chaos had descended on the fair. Men were fighting, Tommy was making an already nervous man simply anxious and this side of the camp was almost deserted. But where was Johnny? Teddy got up and hid near the beautiful horse. And then she saw him: somehow Johnny had ended up in the middle of the fight as well. This could ruin everything! “Come,” Teddy beckoned, “Come here! I promise I won’t hurt you…” and much to her own surprise, the horse obeyed. She untied the reigns and like he’d always been hers, he followed her down into the river. Teddy swam a little, wondered for only a second what Aunt Polly would say, and then climbed up onto the horse’s back in the water. From there on, she made a quick decision and urged the horse on. The river was low and couldn’t be seen all the way from the camp, so she kept the route of invisibility. After a while, she spurred the horse on and he climbed the riverside, with the tiny load still on his back. From this distance, Teddy could still see the fair, but because of the trees she was certain they couldn’t see her. “Now what?” she asked the horse, because she hadn’t really thought this through. In reply it neighed. “Shh!” Teddy scolded, “you want me to get caught?” So she steered the horse by its manes and made her way to where the family car was parked. With some luck, everyone else would still be too busy fighting. *** “Teddy!” Teddy turned her head and saw her brothers running, with sheer panic in their eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” Tommy demanded. Teddy shrunk a little at the anger in his voice, “I didn’t know where to go so I went here…” “Car. Now!” Tommy fumed. “That was actually smart, Tom,” Arthur defended her. Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I thought something happened to you… That’s why I tell you not to leave my fucking side!” “I’m sorry…” she whimpered and tears started forming in her eyes again. “Don’t even try that,” John joked, “We know you can pretend now.” Looking caught, Teddy tried to hide the smile she shared with John. “That’s it, Tom,” Arthur walked back and forth to get rid of the adrenaline still coursing through his body, after they found there little sister was missing, “We’re not using our bloody sister again, for anything!” “Agreed,” Tommy said at once. “I thought you wanted the horse?” Teddy questioned. Again Tommy sighed and he lit another cigarette, “No fucking horse is worth losing you over, Teddy.” And that’s when she realised he wasn’t angry, just worried. “No fucking horse,” Arthur agreed. “But…” she started. John interrupted, “Forget about the horse, Teddy, we’re just glad you’re okay.” “But…” “Besides, we can get a horse some other way, eh?” Tommy continued, “Might even pay for it…” “But…” Tommy held up a hand, “Stop interrupting me, Teddy.” Instead Teddy interrupted him, “But the fucking horse is fucking here!” she pointed beyond the car at the woods, “Look! I rode him here after Johnny didn’t show up!” “I’ll be fucking damned,” Arthur blurted out, “she rode the fucking horse here.” John burst out laughing and simply high-fived Teddy, but Tommy looked as stunned as Arthur did. Anxiously, Teddy waited for Tommy’s reply, occasionally saying things like, “Johnny wasn’t coming,” and “my tears were almost dried up,” and “it wasn’t really my fault, the horse just followed me!” “Teddy Shelby,” Tommy said finally, “you little horse thief…” “You told me to,” Teddy said pointedly, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in her voice. “Oh, so this is our fault, eh?” Teddy shrugged and put on an angelic face, “Well, Arthur taught me how to steal, John taught me how to cry and you told me what to do…”

He pointed at her, “You’re heading the right way for a smacked backside...” Again Tommy looked at the horse and then he coughed a short laugh, “Alright, you win. We’re all horse thieves. Go get your horse.” “Mine?” “Yours.” As Teddy got the horse, the brothers still couldn’t get over the fact that she just did all of that. “Before we go home, there’s just one more thing, Teddy,” Tommy said, “Tell me again what I made you promise.” “Don’t tell Aunt Polly about this.” “Or?” he said menacingly, hoping he still had some authority over her by usually being the one who punished her, when he wasn’t teaching her how to steal that is… “She’ll have your balls.” Tommy eyed his two brothers who doubled over in laugher, but decided to ignore that. “Good girl.”

*** Masterlist

[marvelatthetwilight]

Love you anymore

“I still love you Y/N, I just don’t think I’m IN love with you anymore.”

And with those words, Y/N’s world came crashing down around her. He kept talking, but she didn’t listen, random words got through as she cradled her legs in front of her on her chair. “Think I should move out...stay with Andy...take the car...”

She couldn’t stay in a room with him anymore. She rushed out of the apartment that she shared with the person she thought was her forever. Tears streaming down her face, without her coat, she had no idea where she was going, she just had to get as far away from him as possible.

She left her apartment building, turning left onto the Port Angeles street she knew so well. She kept walking until she got to the park, and sat down on the first bench she found.

She had no money on her, no car keys, just her phone tucked in her back pocket. What do I do now? She thought to herself. Everything she had planned for the last five years was ruined, with that single sentence. Every part of her life was tangled up with him; her job, her home, her family. They’d been together since they were 16, she didn’t know any different. She needed a new plan, but she felt numb. She grabbed her phone, seeing the 💜 next to his name in her contacts made her feel sick.

Text me when you’ve packed up and left. I’ll stay out of your way till then.

She sighed, waiting for her message to show as read. She looked up at the playground where she could see families playing. I thought that would be me soon, how do I start again?

I’ll grab what I need for a few days then get the rest when you’re at work. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you. X

Y/N put her phone back in her pocket. Leaning her head back on the bench behind her.

~~~

When she returned to her apartment an hour later, it felt bare. She grabbed her iPad and sat at her dining table, time to put the new plan in motion. She found her dad in the contacts and hit FaceTime, he was the only one who didn’t adore her ex, and she knew he would do anything to get her away from him. As soon as she saw his face appear she broke down.

“Y/N, darling, what’s happened?”

~~~

Three weeks later Y/N was stood in front of her new home. Luckily her dad had contacts in the nearby town of Forks, and put her in touch with his friend Charlie, the Chief of Police. He found her a small house on the outskirts of the town, and gave her a job as a receptionist at the Police Station. The pn came together quickly, and her dad did everything he could to help.

She took a few bits of furniture with her, and the place was starting to feel like it could feel like a home. Charlie had asked some of his friends to help Y/N get settled in, Sam and Jared had turned up just as she arrived with her van, and seemed to have no trouble carrying in massive pieces of furniture. They are freakishly strong, she thought, as she watched them carry her couch through the door like it was a pillow.

“So, do you know anyone around here Y/N?” Sam asked, as she followed them into her living room.

“Only Charlie, and I don’t really know him that well, just through my dad. Though I start my new job at the station next week so hopefully I’ll get to know some people there”.

“Well, my fiancé Emily is always keen to meet new people, you should come to ours for dinner, she’s a fantastic cook!” Sam looks to Jared, who nods eagerly.

“Kim and I can join too, the girls would love to have company that’s not the same guys everyday”. Just as Jared finished his sentence, a new guy appeared at the doorway.

“Emily said you guys were here, can I do anything to help...?”

Y/N and the new guy locked eyes.

She felt her face clam up, she was definitely red, but she couldn’t break the eye contact. He was beautiful, his deep brown eyes not wavering from her own.

Sam and Jared look between them, then back at each other.

Sam chuckles, “looks like Paul is joining us for dinner too” he whispers to Jared“Y/N this is Paul, Paul this is Y/N, she’s new to town and Charlie asked us to help get her house set up while he’s at work”.

“Y/N” Paul whispers, still not breaking eye contact.

Those words that Y/N heard just weeks before, the words that brought her world crashing down around her suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Looks like this plan could work out quite well, she thought, as she smiled to herself.

“Nice to meet you Paul”.

Part 2: I think I love you

Taglist

I’ve tagged people who I think might like to read this based on my last post.

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff

[christ0pher-evans]

Shattered Heart

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: Angst / Cheating / Mentions of Sex  Word Count: 1.9k 

A/N: I never usually write RPF angst fics, only fluff or smut, but I was drowning in many of my drafted smutty stories (not a bad thing) and I felt like I needed to clear my head with something different. I had this idea and Chris was the best fit. If you don’t feel comfortable reading RPF then please don’t! Based on ‘I love you’ by Billie Eilish. Please reblog and like🖤

 ♡

PRESENT DAY Laying in bed, wrapped tightly in Chris’ arms and listening to his soft snores over your shoulder was your confirmation that it was the weekend. Any other day you would be waking up alone, Chris already long gone and busy working. You shifted carefully before sliding out of his gentle grip, putting on your oversized jumper which was discarded on the floor from last night. 

Once you were downstairs and waiting for the pot of coffee to finish, your gaze lingered on the big garden to your home; the hammock that held a blanket from summer evening cuddles, Dodger’s toys flung carelessly from energetic play dates and the makeshift bar that you had built together for the parties you always hosted. All things that highlight the life that you and Chris had started together seven years ago. Smiling to yourself and caught in your memories, you didn’t even hear Chris coming down the stairs. You only realised his presence across the kitchen once you turned around. Taking him in quickly, you noticed a look of anguish fixed on his face. 

“It’s not true, tell me I’ve been lied to”

“Babe, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Upon trying to approach him, to check he was alright, he hastily stepped away as if he was frightened from your touch. Looking away from you, he stayed silent. 

“Chris?”

Now, you were airing on the edge of nervous, genuinely worried something bad had happened but something was also telling you to stay put, to not move closer to him. You kept your distance, leaning against the breakfast bar for support against the unknown. 

“Y/N, I… I have to tell you something.” 

Sick rushed to your throat at the tone of his voice; coarse and frightened. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask him to continue. 

“Last night..” he took a deep breath, “last night, at the work dinner, before I came home; I kissed someone else.” 

Chris took another deep breath before he looked up. You were already looking at him, tears building in your eyes. Gripping the edge of the counter, you bit your lip and took a shaky breath, too afraid to do anything else incase you collapsed from the utter heartbreak washing over you. 

“Y/N, please say something.”

The sound of Chris speaking startled you, suddenly conscious of how long you’d been frozen, practically in suspended animation. Your ethereal bubble of love and adoration abruptly shattered, even the sound of his voice was making you shudder. 

Deep down, you were burning with rage, but your voice only came out as a whisper, “Tell me it’s not true, tell me you’re lying.”

You pleaded, praying and begging that this was some horrible practical joke that he wanted to play on you. 

“I - I’m not lying..”

“So, just to be clear, you went to a work dinner when you knew that I would be spending the fifth night in a row, in our home, eating alone-?” 

Chris went to interrupt but you weren’t finished. You were determined to get your point across before you crumbled. 

“-You went out and kissed someone that wasn’t me and then came home to me, sat and had wine with me and then made love to me but didn’t have the respect for me to tell me the truth the second you walked in the door last night?!” Staring at Chris, you felt the first tears drop onto your flushed cheeks. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh but when everything was fracturing around you, your emotions were the last thing you were trying to control. 

“Up all night on another red eye, I wish we never learned to fly” 

THREE YEARS AGO “Chris, I thought you said you were going to be home this week? It’s our four year anniversary!” You sighed into your wine as you sat eating dinner with him one Sunday evening. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry but they want to squeeze in a week of location shooting, it was a last minute decision.” 

You flicked the contents of your dinner round your plate, sad at the thought of another week at home alone. As an editor for a fashion magazine, you could do a lot of work from your home office therefore you’d already told your boss that you were working at home all week to spend time with Chris. In these situations you were so grateful to have an understanding and flexible job but frustrated to have such an in-demand and famous boyfriend. Sitting in silence with Chris, you couldn’t help but feel like this was another nail in the proverbial coffin that was your relationship. 

“Come with me!” Chris blurted out nervously. “You were working from home this week anyway, why not just work from London?” 

Your heart felt warm suddenly. The idea of spending a week in London with Chris was exciting and the sense of feeling wanted squashed your previous anxiety. 

“Of course I’ll come with you, if you want me there?” 

Chris leaned forward, reaching out and pulling your face to his, lips gently brushing against yours as he whispered, “There is nowhere that I could be in this world where I wouldn’t want you by my side, ever.” With that, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss. 

SIX MONTHS AGO “Chris..” you sigh, holding your phone away from your ear so he doesn’t hear the sob that escapes your lips. “I just don’t think that flying me halfway across the country will fix these problems!” 

You were exhausted with fighting a losing battle. You played with the loose tendrils of hair that had fallen around your face, waiting for his reply, wondering if he understood your hidden rejection of his offer. 

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you want to see me and sort our problems out in person but moan when I offer a perfectly valid solution! I know I’m away a lot at the moment, but your job is so flexible, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just come with me in the first place!” 

You involuntarily groan, irked by what Chris had thought was a perfectly acceptable compromise. He had missed the point completely. Flying from state to state, hell even country to country for the past six months just to get an iota of time with your husband was taxing, it was also forcing you to surrender your own life to follow his. All you wanted was for Chris to understand the sacrifice you’d been making. 

“Okay Chris, I’ll book my flights now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You sighed, disconnecting the phone call and slamming your phone on the sofa in frustration. 

Reflecting back on the past few years, you felt ashamed at your naivety with Chris. You had taken everything with a pinch of salt because you could only imagine how difficult it was for Chris to uphold a relationship, let alone a marriage, with his career, so you were happy to make a small sacrifice if it resulted in spending time with Chris but now you realised, you were sacrificing everything for his happiness, not yours. 

“Cryin' isn’t like you” 

PRESENT DAY The words you had spoken hung over the room like a dark cloud. You knew you were being heinous before you’d given him a chance to explain but you were heartbroken. Your fingers skimmed your lips, disgusted that they’d entwined with Chris’s after he had kissed another woman, disgusted that they had begged him for release as you made love after he had kissed another woman. 

As you wiped your own tears from your eyes, you noticed tears spilling from Chris’s eyes. Your body went rigid - you had only seen Chris cry a handful of times. The feeling of sympathy and guilt should have been foreign to you in this situation but you felt pain from his misery. You could see the torment in his eyes, and you knew that he was angry with himself for hurting you; maybe, just maybe you could sort this out and salvage your marriage. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one that’s crying?” You tried to make light of the problem but recoiled at the distastefulness of your question. 

Moving to the now well-brewed pot of coffee, you poured two mugs before placing one at the other side of the breakfast bar for Chris, a symbolic waving of the white flag. You sat down, anxiously waiting to see if Chris would follow, hoping that you could sort this out like adults and maybe try to recover your trust and your marriage. That’s what you wanted, right?

“Maybe we should just try, to tell ourselves a good lie” 

You took the first sip of your second cup of coffee, still sitting in silence. You had been pondering with how to start the conversation but was admittedly hoping Chris would instigate it. Looking like that wasn’t going to happen, you tore off the bandaid and asked the question you had been dreading finding out the answer to. 

“So, can you start from the beginning and tell me what happened? I think I need to understand what transpired before we move forward.” You spoke calmly, channelling your nerves into picking at your nail varnish. Distracted by the chipped pattern on your nails, you were startled when Chris spoke up. 

“So, um, obviously you and me, we’ve been dealing with what feels like a long distance relationship; even though we live in the same house.” Chris paused from a moment, and you thought he was going to start crying again. You had to look down into your coffee, scared that if you started crying also, you wouldn’t stop. 

“Not that we haven’t handled that before, but this time it felt different, it felt worse. I know it’s not your fault Y/N and it’s not mine either, our jobs are so demanding but I was just feeling so alone.” 

Your heart was shattered at Chris’ confession. Knowing that you were both hurting from the same issue but keeping it to yourselves, it seemed absurd. 

“She was always there. I saw her every day at work, definitely for many more hours than I was seeing you each day, and she is nice. She became my friend and my comfort.”  

Now you felt like you’d been stabbed through the heart. Hearing Chris talk about another woman being everything you thought you were to him crushed you. How could you ever trust him again when he chose another woman to confide in?

“We get on really well, and um, whilst we were waiting outside the restaurant for our taxis, it just sort of.. happened.” 

The rest of the conversation passed by like a bad dream. Remembering snippets of trying to stay calm as Chris told you he made the first move, screaming at Chris when he told you he would still see her at work every day and crying into his shoulder when you admitted you wasn’t sure if this marriage  had a future. 

Chris had left hours ago to stay at a friends house to give you some space. You glanced at the tissues surrounding you - reminders of the tortuous day - as if you were looking for the answers among them. Wiping your puffy eyes for the final time, you waited for something, or someone, to make the decision for you. 

Now, it felt like the quiet at the end of a storm. Like your nightmare had come full circle. You sat in the same spot, alone. 

Part Two: Troubled Heart

[romanoffbelovamaximoff18]

WandaNat Foster Parents

Chapter 2 - Settling in

Pairing: WandaNat parents x y/n female reader

Overview: The avengers rescue you from a HYDRA base during a mission and Natasha doesn't want to hand you over to social services so she and Wanda take on your care.

**********************************************

Yelena lead you through what seemed like an endless maze of corridors. The tower was huge. Yelena kept pointing rooms out and you desperately tried to remember everything but by the time you reach Wanda and Natasha's room your head was spinning.

Yelena knocked happily and headed in. Natasha and Wanda were comfortable on the bed watching a dopey rom-com but they both smiled when they saw you and Yelena.

"Hey malyshka, are you ready for that bath?" Natasha said happily, coming to cuddle you.

You nod and rest your head on her stomach as she rubs your back.

"I wan mac n cheese" you mumble softly into her shirt.

Natasha chuckles.

"I'm sure that can be arranged malen'kiy" she said softly.

Wanda and Yelena left to make food whilst Natasha lead you into the bathroom and got a warm bath running for you. The pair of you sat together on the edge and you looked up at her.

"When did you and Yelena escape?" You ask her softly.

Natasha stares at you for a moment before sighing.

"I had just turned twenty, I rescued Yelena and brought down the Red room several years later, she was just twenty one. What about you?" She asks softly.

"Dreykov sold me to HYDRA for an unbelievable amount of money. I was just what they needed; a small girl trained in combat and with super soldier serum in her veins. HYDRA trained me even harder than the red room. They trained me in archery, bomb skills, chemicals, further combat and at least seven different languages." You say softly.

Natasha sighs and gives you a quick hug, gently stroking your hair.

"How did you know we were widows?" She asks you gently.

You bite your lip.

"I told Yelena I had the super soldier serum in my blood and she told me you and her did too. The red room is the only place I knew that girls got given it so I figured that's what happened to you" you explain softly.

Natasha sighs and wraps her arms around you, gently kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that malyshka" she whispers into your hair.

You smile and gently cup her face with your hands, wiping away a few stray tears.

"Don't apologise, you couldn't have stopped it from happening. It's not your fault. Please please don't blame yourself" you say softly.

Natasha nods and turns the taps off and tests the water.

"That feels nice, let's get you in and clean you up detka" she says happily.

You smile and she helps you undress. You let out a contented sigh as the warm water meets your skin. Natasha giggles at you as she starts gently washing you with a loofah, at first you flinch at the feeling but when she starts on your back you shiver and completely relax into the feeling. When that is done Natasha moves onto your hair, gently scratching and massaging your scalp.

"You'd look adorable with some candy pink tones in your hair. Your hair is such a lovely chocolate brown. If you put a pink layer underneath and dyed the two front streaks the same shade you would look so cute" she chuckles, gently rinsing your hair with the shower head.

You think about it for a moment, you can imagine what she means. You like the idea.

"Could you do it for me? Y'know, dye my hair?" You ask her.

Natasha smiles at you.

"I couldn't, I'm no good, but Yelena could. She dyes my hair all the time" she chuckles, lifting you out of the bath and wrapping you in a fluffy towel.

You smile at her as she gently towel dries your hair.

"I love Yelena. She's fun." You giggle.

Natasha smiles at you and plants a gentle kiss on your head.

"She is, so funny and fun. She always has been, even as a child. The red room broke her down to ashes, it took a while to build her back up to where she is now" she says softly.

As she continues to dry my hair Wanda appears at the door with a bundle of neatly folded clothes and a pair of shoes.

"Hey moya lyubv, hey detka, Clint brought these for you. He has a daughter a little younger than you so he had an idea of what you'd need" she giggles.

You take the bundle with shaking hands, gasping at the soft, clean material. Inside the bundle was a pair of cute blue silk pyjamas patterned with daisies, a white button front t shirt and a denim skirt. The outfit had a cute pair of white slip on pumps and the necessary underwear to complete the outfit. You smile and the girls give you a bit of privacy to get dressed. You do so before sitting on your bed for a moment, playing with your powers. The pink glow from your hands with the power to do more than you wanted to remember. Your eyes glowed the same colour when they worked. You could make people see their worst fears, nightmares, you could move and destroy things. It was honestly quite terrifying.

After a moment you stopped and went outside to find Wanda and Natasha who were both waiting for you outside. Wanda smiled when she saw you.

"Oh Detka you look beautiful" she giggled, giving you a cuddle.

You smile and Natasha takes your hand.

"Let's go get you that mac n cheese malen'kiy" she says happily.

You smile and she leads you down to the kitchen where Yelena is serving up your mac n cheese. When she sees you she smiles and holds her arms out. You run to her and she cuddles you close.

"Look at you! You look gorgeous!" She says happily.

You smile but before you say anything another voice interrupts.

"Excuse me Miss Maximoff but Dr Cho is requesting your presence in the medical wing, she would like to do a blood draw"

Yelena cuddles you close.

"It's okay that's just J.A.R.V.I.S the AI system" she soothes, feeling you shiver.

You look up and turn to Wanda.

"Please. Please don't go Wanda. Please" you beg tearfully.

She looks at you confused before gently cupping your face in her hands.

"Malyshka I have to go darling but I'll be okay. I'll come right back" she soothes.

You shake your head.

"Please. Please don't go!" You wail, starting to sob.

Yelena comes over and gently wraps her arms around you and you grab her hand.

"I want to go. I need air. I don't feel safe. Please. Please come with me." You sob into her top.

Yelena nods and the pair of you head outside. As soon as you're out you start running and she follows.

"Detka. Detka where are you running to? Please just talk to me" she says desperately.

You stop running and just cry.

"I know why Dr Cho wants to do the blood draw but they can't know. They might kill me. Please don't let them hurt me. They want to compare my blood to Wanda's because of the HYDRA chemicals. They always talked about her. They created the magnificent scarlet witch. Wanda Maximoff. HYDRA's best pupil. But they wanted an upgrade. They made me, I was the experiment, the chemicals mixed with super soldier serum." You sob out, clinging to her.

Yelena holds you close and the pair of you sit on the floor as she holds and rocks you. Natasha comes running out and joins you on the floor just cuddling and soothing you. Yelena explains everything to her and she cuddles you gently.

"Oh dorogoy no we would never kill or hurt you because of that. This might be scary but we can help you harness your power and use it for good. Everything you've been through can be used to make the world better. All of us have been through horrendous things but we've used that pain to make the world better. We can help you train, put your training to good use. We'd never be as harsh as HYDRA or the Red Room. We all need down time. I just want you to trust us detka." Natasha soothes.

You nod and cuddle into them.

"I want to do good to the world" you whisper softly.

"I have no doubt you will malen'kiy" Yelena whispers.

You smile and the girls lead you back inside so you can enjoy your mac n cheese. As you're finishing Tony walks in and points to all of you.

"Team meeting now" He says quickly...

🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤

[magalidragon]

paris is always a good idea | a Jonerys Drabble

Thank you @youwerenevermine​ for my wonderful birthday gift, I love it so much and I love Paris so much and Jonerys and you for making this for me so I felt inspired and wrote a quick little drabble thing, lol. It’s only the fourth time I’ve written Jonerys in a modern, non-Westeros world, but it was fun!  And I wanna’ go back so much!  Paris, je t’aime!

They met while in university, oddly enough, as fate would have it, on her birthday.

She had been there to study art, for a year abroad, savoring every last second wandering the wide, arched hallways of the Louvre, staring at grand masters for hours on end, burning the vibrant colors and mesmerizing brushstrokes into her memory, wishing she could be as good as them one day.  One day, someone would have her art in their house, and proudly boast they'd gotten it back when she was but a nobody, painting on the streets or in the grassy parks.  

Since it was her birthday, she decided to treat herself, and instead of heading straight to the university to get some time in the studio, she decided to get an ice cream at Berthillon, heading to the Ile-St-Louis instead of to the metro, taking her time to admire, as she often did, the glory of Notre Dame, it’s gargoyles and buttresses.

At the glacier she took her time selecting a flavor, did not even mind paying the exorbitant price and shouldered through tourists taking refuge from a cold rain that had begun to fall. She savored it, the clean water bouncing off her peat coat and the beanie she’d tugged over her silver hair.

She was about to set off, to eat her ice cream and wander into the Marais, perhaps drop down into the Latin Quarter— maybe take a trip to Chanel or Dior or Celine to admire the creations she couldn’t afford— when her ice cream went flying, straight onto the wet sidewalk. Where a mass of pidgins attacked it with gusto.

“Merde! Faites attention!” she shouted, stomping her Doc Marten on the ground in petulant annoyance.

The man who had bumped her because he’d been roughhousing with another friend had been apologetic.  He bought her another and said his name was Robb Stark. He was from Scotland, was on spring break with his buddies, which she didn’t care about. To apologize he invited her for a drink, especially when the worker who she’d told it was her birthday had commented on it again when she got another ice cream.

She figured why not?  He was attractive, sorry, and nice enough so she agreed, although she had commented his French was terrible best to speak English. “You’re English?” he had teased.

“Half and half,” she answered. English father, French mother.

At the comptoir where she suggested they meet, in Montmartre, she brought her roommate Missandei and Missandei’s boyfriend Grey. It was just a drink and they’d leave and go to the dinner Missandei planned to take her to anyway.

Except that’s where she met him.

The dark, brooding figure at the tiny table in the corner, ignoring Robb and Robb’s friend Theon, and a couple others, favoring silence and his drink. He was in all black, barely acknowledging her and slipped out for a smoke when Robb began to shamelessly flirt. She didn’t care about Robb, she cared about him.

Jon.

She exited, saw him lighting a cigarette against a lap post. She flicked her coat collar up and sidled towards him. “Puis-j’en avoir un?”

“Sorry I don’t speak,” he began, and his eyes— black in the orange lamplight glow— flicking to her. He smiled gently “French.”

She smiled and repeated her question in English.  “Can I have one?  A smoke  that is?”

He stuck the cigarette between his pouty, sinful lips, framed with a cropped dark beard, and reached into his coat pocket, removing a pack. She took one delicately and he lit it, cupping his hands around the tip so the wind didn’t blow it out.

A stream of smoke escaped her nostrils when she puffed and she smiled up at him, hoping he got the hint. “Do you like Paris?”

“Not especially.”

“Aw come on,” she teased. She hummed, closing her eyes and taking in the cold night. The electric buzz is people on the street and at the cafes and bars around them. “Paris is always a good idea.”

“Someone famous said that.”

“Audrey Hepburn.”

He sucked on the cigarette and smiled, a tiny one, the curve of his lip sly rather than shy.  “You aren’t in there with the rest of them.”

“Because it’s my birthday and I want to do what I want to do.”  She stubbed the cigarette out on the post and turned, disposing it in the bin by the door.  A quick text to Missandei: I’m going to skip dinner, I think I have a date, she turned and studied him.  “I’m…”

“Dany,” he said. He shrugged, finishing his smoke. “I remember.”  

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were listening when Robb introduced me.”

“I was.”  He pulled the tartan scarf around his neck tighter.  He glanced towards Sacré-Cœur, illuminated white in the lights around its base. He smirked at her.  “You going back in?”

She shook her head. “No,” she drawled. She followed his gaze to Sacré-Cœur. “Have you been up there?”

“No.”

“You should. Some of the best views of Paris.”

He chuckled, voice tight. “You should invite Robb.”

“I think he might be a third wheel.”

It took him a second, the gears in his mind turning, understanding what she was saying. He cocked his head. His black curls were in a mess around his face. A few scattered rain drops landed on them, and he shook it free like a dog. Or a wolf, she thought, noting the animal embroidered on the edge of his scarf.

He narrowed his eyes again. “I told you I don’t really like Paris.”

“Why?”

“It’s loud. Busy. Dirty.”

She laughed. “Every city is like that but in Paris it’s different.”

“Why?”

Her bravado got the better of her and she stepped towards him, linking her arm through his. If he didn’t get it now, he was a stupid fool who deserved it when she kicked him into the gutter. “Because,” she murmured, rising to her toes, trying to gaze as directly as she could into his eyes, which she now saw were actually gray. His breathing quickened. “You’re with me.”

The wolf got the point with that comment. He allowed her to keep her arm around his and lead him towards the cathedral.  They spoke of nothing and anything on the long walk through Montmartre to the highest point in the city.  

He was in Paris for a research trip.  He was studying medieval weapons and was going out to Bayeux to study some relics. His cousin Robb and friends came along for the free trip.  They spoke about being starving artists in their field-- her literally an artist as it were.  They talked about Paris-- how much he disliked it, how much she adored it.  The top of Sacre-Coeur might have changed his mind, but he pretended he still didn’t get the appeal, so she dragged him back down to the streets, to her favorite all-night boulangerie, into the metro and across town to the Eiffel Tower, spinning in circles on the Champs du Mars.  They ran across the Pont-de-la-Concorde and across the Tullieries.  They wandered down the Seine, smoked cigarettes in the doorsteps of old buildings in the Latin Quarter, and drank cheap wine in one of the tourist-cafes near the Jardin du Luxembourg.  

They meandered back through the streets, the city oddly quiet, the rain stopping, and she brought him to her garret studio in the Bastille, up the six flights of stairs to the top of the building, where she shed her coat and boots adn scratched her fat cat Drogon’s ears, leading him to the wrought-iron bars in one of the four windows she had, pushing the window open and crawling out, up onto the roof where she wanted to show him something.  

“Look,” she directed, when he climbed up next to her-- less gracefully-- pointing to the lit-up Eiffel Tower.  

He cursed under his breath.  “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s my favorite place in Paris.  The rent is steep, but it’s worth it for this.”  She chuckled.  “And it has the best view.”

He whispered.  “Yes, it does.”  

And to her surprise, since she didn’t realize the time, the tower began to twinkle, the 20,000 lights across its metal beams flickering and she glanced sideways; he wasn’t watching the tower, but her face.  She arched her brows.  “You know, the lights twinkle for five minutes every hour, on the hour.”  She smiled and shrugged, whispering.  “It’s a sign that you’re supposed to return to Paris.”

Instead of saying anything, like how silly that was, he leaned in and cupped her face in his wide palm, callused and warm, bringing her face to meet his, kissing gently, in the twinkly glow of the lights.  He pulled back a moment later, breathing, “I think I like Paris.  And you’er right...this place has the best view.”  His eyes were wide on hers, focused.  She chuckled, nodding in agreement, and pulled him back to her for another kiss.

That night she savored every moment with him, as they pulled each other’s clothes off slowly, kissing and touching, every smooth curve and muscle of each other, each hard ridge and plane of his strong, muscular body or her soft, lean one.  He touched her and kissed her and stroked her in ways she’d never experienced, bringing her to heights she’d only dreamed about.  It was intense, the lights behind her closed eyelids when she came, over and over, gripping his shoulders, hair, the bedframe behind her.  He rose up and over her, in and out, their bodies moving as one, thrusting and arching.  

She didn’t know if she’d see him again; if this was a one-time, romantic Parisian adventure, but in the morning when she woke, she found him coming back inside from getting pastries and coffees, the faintest scent of cigarettes and her toothpaste on his lips when he kissed her good morning.  

They exchanged their information, vowing to speak daily, and he would see her when he got back from Bayeux.  She couldn’t believe when he did call and he kept his word.  “When you lie, words lose their meaning,” he’d explained, obviously reading her surprise.  

And when her year ended in Paris, she found herself in London, back at university, dreaming of their magical time there, even when they made time for each other, going back and forth from London to Edinburgh; and he from Edinburgh to Paris during the last couple of months of her year there.  

They made it a priority; every single year they spent time in Paris, like they were students again, on that magical night.  

They grew older, no longer needing to find the cheapest drinks and cigarettes, or staying in studio garrets, eventually able to experience some of the best hotels and restaurants the city had to offer, as he sold books and became a well-known author and professor, and her dream of becoming a famous artist came true, when sure enough, someone bought one of her paintings on the side of the Seine, someone who happened to be an art dealer in New York.  

It was their city, where they met, and where they could remember.  

After they married, about fifteen years after that fateful birthday, they visited again, and spun together on the Pont-Neuf, kissing and murmuring how they loved each other and always would, and he took her back to the tiny studio garret, which was now theirs, and sat on the rooftop and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle.  

“Paris is always a good idea,” she murmured, head in the crook of his neck, her back to his front, wrapped in a warm blanket, and his arms tight around her middle.  She tilted her face up to his, sated, and still hopelessly in love with him.  “Take me to Paris, Jon.”

He nuzzled his nose into her cheek, whispering.  “You are Paris, Dany.”

As it was the city where they’d met, fallen in love, and found true happiness, she grinned, because that was his way of saying how much he loved her.  She brushed her lips over his, sighing, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  

And they kissed, as the Eiffel Tower lit up, and she curled up into him, falling asleep in the city of love and lights.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (deux)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior, manipulation

deep in the forest lies the home to the infamous, successful kim family. you steeled yourself to enter the lions’ den, where kind, masked souls surrounded you, welcoming you with open hearts and open arms. you, however, still keep your wits about you. you protect yourself by getting comfortable, but not too close. but it’s alright. put your guard up to your hearts’ content. you are their favorite past time, after all. either way, sooner or later, you will be theirs...

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

The five Kim siblings couldn’t be more elated, watching the object of their eye sleep without a care in the world.

They remained quiet, speaking in whispers as they strove not to wake you up. Your guarded attitude around them had escaped no one, and they, quite frankly, found it adorable.

You were the only one who didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve around them.

The sleek, black van turned corner after corner around the winding paths of Ichabod, passing homes, places of commerce, and office buildings.

The Kim family lived deep within the woods, not too far away from the base of the monthly gatherings. All of the other town dwellers would walk from their homes, located at various points in the city, into the twisting black woods in order to appear at the meeting on time.

For the Kims would accept nothing less than perfection.

After another twenty minutes, Driver Bin cautiously approached a narrow dirt path and he directed the car onto the incline, winding upwards on the hill. The car then veered off to the right, entering a secluded road that would lead specifically to the Kim family mansion. 

It stood, raised on wooden platforms with impressive glass windows. The exterior shone in the afternoon sunlight, polished cherry wood glistening through the orange and green leaves on the forest trees.

There was no ostentatious fountain or statue outside the front of the home, nor were there piled bodies of the forsaken lying around their grounds, contrary to popular schoolyard taunts and beliefs. 

Only a winding, wooden staircase that led to the front door. 

The boys stared out the window, gaze breaking away from you for only a moment as they watched the approaching front gate.

A black, iron-wrought masterpiece, as well as their father’s pride and joy: the front gate worked all too well at keeping unwanted guests outside and favored guests inside of the Kim household.

Each of the brothers had grown up detesting that gate. Whether on purpose or by accident, it kept them locked up from the outside world, ostracizing them even more than they had already thought possible.

But now, as the old iron monstrosity creaked open, and as they watched their beloved sleep ever so sweetly....

Why, they wouldn’t have wished for anything other than for that gate to close once and for all, leaving you with them forever.

The metal closed with an ominous clang, and the van pulled into the home’s garage as the sun began to set.

——————————————————————

You peeled your eyes open, disoriented for just a moment before pure panic bled through.

The last thing you remembered was getting into the Kim’s car on your way to their home.

But now, you lay in a queen size, four poster bed covered with soft (f/c) sheets. The dark brown, wooden frame had beautiful gossamer, white sheets hanging down, wrapped around each end so that you could sit up without them getting in your way.

You looked down and found your school uniform still on, albeit a bit wrinkled. There was a sweater a bit too large for you wrapped around your shoulders. Your shoes were no longer on your feet, and the thought of someone taking those off for you made you flustered.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten to the room, but logic reasoned that one of the boys must have brought you in here to rest...

Your face twisted into an unreadable expression...you weren’t particularly sure how to feel about that. 

You should thank them and apologize, of course, but still, the entire situation only heightened your unease.

Your phone and backpack lay on the table next to the bed, and you picked the device up, checking the time. To your surprise, it had only been an hour since you left the school grounds. 

You texted your mother that you had arrived before getting off the bed and walking to the door in your socks. Before you could open it, however, your phone began to buzz in your hand.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Is everything alright?” Your mother’s voice, tired but worried, sounded out from across the line. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine! We just got here. I had to use the bathroom so they led me to a guest room; that’s where I am right now.” You paced around the room as you spoke before sitting on the edge of the bed and fingering the silk canopy.

You decided not to tell your mother about the falling asleep part. What she didn’t know couldn’t worry her.

“That’s good. I get out of work in a couple of hours, I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Just tell me how the project’s going in the meantime, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure.” She cautioned you one more time before hanging up the phone.

You put it in your skirt pocket and pulled open the wooden door, relieved by the fact that it made no sound. It led you to a hallway and you carefully walked out into it, making sure not to disturb anyone.

You surmised that you were located on the bottom floor of the house. The room you were in had been situated at the very end of the hallway, and you found the lack of noise unsettling. 

At first, the only thing you could hear was the soft padding of your socked feet on the hardwood floor, but as you walked down the hallway, the sound of talking and laughing got louder and louder. 

You peeked your head around the corner to see all five of the boys seated in a sort of lounge with large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows. 

The Kims had somehow managed to perfectly blend the appearance of old money with the taste and style of new money artwork and design. The house looked like something straight out of a romantic fiction, young adult novel.

As you looked around the living room, it was somewhat hard for you to take in the amount of wealth in the home. The windows offered a splendid view of the surrounding forest from the inside, although clouded a bit by coffee voile curtains. Before them sat two settees with a small, rounded glass table between them. Closer to the entrance where you stood sat a gray sofa across from a much longer, L-shaped couch.

Taehyung and Jimin sat roughhousing passionately on the sofa while Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat on the longer couch opposite them. The former was laughing at the two’s shenanigans, clapping his hands in glee and the latter two were occupied with separate activities: Namjoon reading, occasionally pushing his glasses up on his face and Jungkook concerned with something on his phone.

You hesitantly walked out. “...Jimin?”

All five heads snapped up as they watched you approach.

Jimin’s face broke out into an even bigger smile and he jumped up to stand in front of you. “(Y/N)! How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“Did you sleep well?” Taehyung smiled mischievously from the couch, but you could tell from his tone that he meant well.

Your cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “Yeah! I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I thought I had handled my fatigue pretty well, but I guess it never actually left. You could’ve woken me up, you know...” You spoke with your head down, looking at your hands as they wrung together.

You heard the room go silent for a moment, just as you feared it would. When you looked up, all five of the boys had an enigmatic expression on their face.

It sent chills down your back, just how quickly their attitudes had switched. They went from joyful laughter and peaceful content to emotions you felt were unstable...you sensed a bit of helplessness paired with indifference, and the slightest hint of anger and contempt. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to remind of them of the reason why they were ostracized so much, why they were seen as different. You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead, making a note to be more sensitive about the topic while you were in their presence.

The sound of a hardcover book snapping shut broke the silence, causing you to jump. 

Namjoon gently placed the book he was reading on the couch’s armrest and looked at you with a cordial smile. “You should take better care of yourself, (Y/N). It wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep in your classes or end up unwell.”

With that sentence, the spell was broken. 

Jimin gently took your forearm and tugged you into the direction of the sofa he was sitting on earlier, pouting as he spoke. “I should have known...you looked ready to drop since our break this morning.”

He seated you and took the place on your right as you waved him off. “It’s fine, it was my fault-”

“If you still want to rest, feel free to go back to the guest room!” Taehyung added, claiming the spot on the other side of you.

“Never feel like you have to hide how you feel around us, (Y/N).” Hoseok said with another winning grin, leaning forward in his seat. 

You blinked warily at all of their support. “Well...thanks, guys.”

Your eyes stopped on Jungkook, who was staring at you, and his heavy gaze made you itch.

You leaned back in your seat and felt the sweater you’d woken up with start to slip. 

You pulled it off of your shoulders, beginning to question how it even got there in the first place, and met eyes with Jungkook again. “Is this yours...?”

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak for the first time. “You were shivering in your sleep in the car. I thought you might need it, so I left it with you after I carried you in.”

You folded it and handed it back to him, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Thank you, Jungkook. Again, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you all like that.”

He took it from you, large eyes getting slightly wider in wonder. 

“It’s alright, (Y/N). We’re glad to help you out with whatever you need.” Namjoon nodded and smiled, the dimple in his left cheek prominent. You smiled, a bit more relaxed now but still cautious of your behavior.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your lovely home, then.” You replied, admiring the layout once more.

“Aww, she thinks our home is lovely.” Taehyung gushed. “Seokjin hyung would love to hear that someone finally appreciates his taste in design.”

You cocked your head at him. “Your brother designed this living room?”

“Our eldest brother,” Jimin gushed. “He threw a huge tantrum a couple of years ago, complaining to our parents about how much he couldn’t stand the decor, so they let him draw up a design plan...then they ended up going along with it.”

“He and Yoongi hyung, our other brother, are usually studying away at college,” Taehyung went on. “Our parents bought them an apartment in the city so they could be closer to the campus, but because they have to be present for the meetings, they come back home for a bit every month.”

“They were here last night, but then they had to leave immediately.” Hoseok added.

Before the discussion could continue, you heard the sound of sharp clacks approaching the room.

“My darling sons,” A tilting voice spoke from the entryway and out came one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen (aside from your mother, of course). 

She glided across the wooden floor in sensibly high heels, a silk dress complementing her figure and a tan blazer resting on her shoulders. In her hands, she carried a silver tray full of neatly arranged snacks. 

“I brought a little something for you all to enjoy! I know how hungry you all get-oh....who is this?” She slowed with a smile as she approached the couch.

Kim Eunbyul was not a person meant to be taken lightly. Her status in this town was no different than royalty, and she exemplified grace with every step that she took. 

As expected of the two time winner of the Pluton Actress Award.

You stared at her in amazement before you quickly snapped back to your senses and rose, giving a polite bow in greeting. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim! I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she hummed, laying the tray on the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Might I ask why you’ve decided to visit our humble home?”

“She’s here on my invitation, Mother.” Jimin spoke and your gaze snapped over to him in shock. His tone sounded so...flat, so unfazed, so unlike every other expression you’d heard him use today. “We have a group project for Mrs. Hargrove’s class, one that will be a considerable part of our grade.”

“Alright, I understand.” She chided him slightly, seemingly used to his attitude. She came to stand before you, leaning a good couple of inches above you. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You smiled at her—an actual smile this time, albeit a small one—as she grasped your hands in hers. 

To your surprise, you could feel them tremble slightly.

You stood there, making an effort to avoid eye contact as she studied you. When you looked to the brothers’ in an attempt for nonverbal help, your breath hitched.

The siblings gazed at their mother with something likened to...no, something that was utter detestation.

Jungkook payed her no mind, his thumb obsessively stroking the sweater he held in his possession once more. 

Hoseok and Taehyung openly glared at their mother behind her back, the elder’s lips frowning in annoyance and the younger’s twisting into a sneer.

Jimin’s eyes glued onto her, oozing indifference, his gaze all too similar to the one he’d sent Mrs. Hargrove earlier that day. 

Namjoon simply watched his mother with cocky amusement glinting in his eyes.

Mrs. Kim gave your hands a gentle squeeze and she smiled. “You have a wonderful energy around you, my dear. You possess a wisdom far beyond your years, and great power as well. I advise you to be wary of some of the people around you, though. They may want to steal your power for themselves.” She gave a small sigh and pat the back of your hands before lowering them gently.

“Thank...you?” You smiled at her in polite confusion. As far as you knew, Mrs. Kim was an actress. No one had said anything about her being able to tell people’s fortunes.

Your classmates would have called her a witch.

But with her husband acting as Wylynne’s divine messenger, would she truly have no powers herself...?

“Of course, my dear.” She gave you one last smile. “Please, enjoy yourself, and make yourself right at home. Our doors will always be open to you.”

She then left the living room, not so much as sparing a glance towards her sons. Not that they would have wanted it anyway, for they looked as though they couldn’t stand a second longer of her presence.

You watched her go, leaving with the same grace that she came in with, but much quicker than before. 

Your palm still tickled from the feeling of her trembling hand in yours.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon stood up, brushing off his uniform pants. “I wouldn’t take her prediction to heart. Our mother tends to do that to everyone she meets-”

“Are they true?”

“...What?” 

Just as you started getting slightly comfortable in this bizarre atmosphere, Namjoon’s intense stare brought you back to the present, reminding you of your place.

“Is there some truth to her evaluations?” You innocently asked, trying not to cave under the weight of the older boy’s attention.

“I must admit, I wouldn’t know,” he chuckled, his gaze softening, “we’re the only ones she refuses to do a reading on.”

You nodded, intrigued. “I see. I just find those interesting, is all...”

“Well,” Jimin interrupted, hopping up and clapping his hands. “we should get started on our project!”

“I left my bag in the room, I should go get it.” You turned to go in the general direction of the hallway from which you came but was stopped by Taehyung gently grabbing your elbow. 

“Here!” He stood up, toeing his sandals off and sliding them in your direction. “Jungkook took your shoes off and placed them at the front of the house with the rest of ours, so you might need these.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ll be sure to return them before I leave.” You smiled at him.

He blushed and grinned in return. 

Jungkook's hair fell into his eyes as he looked down in shame. “I should have prepared a pair of slippers for you while you were sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it!” You claimed, just to watch his eyes light up again.

“Good luck on the project, you two!” Hoseok said, turning to leave.

“Let me come with you, (Y/N)!” Jimin said, taking you by the hand. “We’ll be right back, Namjoon hyung!”

He pulled you towards the entryway and you heard the boys start to disassemble behind you, heading off toward their respective locations with the exception of Namjoon, who sat back down on the couch to wait.

You traipsed down the hallway with Jimin. “I think your mother is a lovely person,” you quietly stated.

Jimin didn’t pause, but his grip on your elbow tightened before he turned to you, eyes scrunched together because of his wide smile. “I’m glad you think so! I think she likes you as well.”

You smiled back at him, carefully watching his expression, before turning your gaze to the wood floor. He stood at the doorway as you grabbed your bag and arranged the bed. 

When that was finished, the two of you walked down the hallway and met up with Namjoon, and ascended to the third floor of the home.

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

The Kims’ library looked like something out of Beauty and the Beast, though it was nowhere near as grandiose in height. Your inner bookworm squealed at the sight of all the books lining the shelves, as well as the plush couch and beanbags resting in the leftmost corner of the library. 

You held on to the strap of your bag, following Jimin and Namjoon as they weaved their way through multiple bookcases.

Namjoon reached a dilapidated wooden shelf at the back of the room. His fingers trailed over the book backings and he backtracked and picked one up, blowing the dust off of it only to end up coughing. Jimin muffed his giggle as he covered his nose and mouth with his sweater sleeve.

“I believe this is what you were looking for,” he said once his coughing fit was over, “The Word of the Lost.”

What a fascinating title...

“Ah, yes, hyung! This is exactly what we needed!” Jimin’s eyes practically sparkled as he took the book from his brother. It was an old, leather bound thing and the glossy pages flashed underneath the dim library lights. 

It reminded you of the older bibles with illuminated pages.

“Thank you for helping us look.” You said. Namjoon nodded toward you with his classic student-body-president smile.

“Of course. I thumbed through this book many times as a child.” Namjoon said. “I’m sure you both will be able to find a fascinating creature to do your report on.” 

The three of you walked out from the labyrinth of shelves and you beelined toward the couch, making yourself comfortable.

Jimin came to sit next to you, placing the book on his lap and waving goodbye to his brother. While you were bent over retrieving your school materials, Namjoon returned the wave with a smirk and left the library, leaving the two of you to your work.

You pulled out your notebook and a writing utensil, turning to Jimin as your academic weariness set in once more. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he stated, opening the book. “I don’t spend as much time in the library as Namjoon hyung, but I do remember there being a host of creatures in this book...”

UnFortunately, Namjoon’s recollection of the text was spot on. There were so many mythological creatures, you and Jimin were overwhelmed and didn’t know which one to pick.

“How about banshees?” Jimin suggested. 

“The harbingers of death?” You mused. “I know of them. They’re one of my favorites.”

“Ah...then what about the wendigo?”

You shuddered. “I know about them as well; their folklore is so interesting, but so creepy.”

Jimin nodded, paging through the novel again. “We could research golems?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’ve heard about them before relative to Jewish mythology...and they’re somewhat similar to the Egyptian ushabti.”

Jimin playfully groaned and dropped his head back onto the couch. “You’re so learned, (Y/N)! How did you hear about all of these mythological figures?”

You shrugged and smiled a bit, doodling in your notebook. “I’ve just come across them in some way or another...usually through the media.”

You gently took the book off of Jimin’s lap and decided to thumb through it yourself, turning to the chapter list to see the different branches of creatures. Your finger ran down the list before stopping at a certain name. 

“...Jimin, have you ever heard anything about nephilim?”

He stiffened and his brows furrowed. “No. What are they?” 

You flipped the book to the demonstrated page number and began reading. “‘Nephilim are creatures conceived of humans and angels. These fascinating individuals are born with immense amounts of both angelic grace and the original sin of human beings.’” You beamed. “Perfect! This creature sounds the most interesting-”

You turned to speak to Jimin and found his face uncomfortably close to yours. Gone was the innocent, boyish expression on his face, replaced by an endearing and inquisitive stare.

You immediately turned your head to look back down at the page. “-of the creatures...and the least known,” you mumbled, hoping he couldn’t see the tint of red on your cheeks.

Rather than taking the book for himself, Jimin started reading it over your shoulder. You tried not to breathe too hard with his proximity.

He’s too close...

“‘As they mature, they must come to terms with their proclivity to sin and balance it out with their angelic nature. Nevertheless, this arduous task often leaves them with an identity crisis, and most succumb to their sinful natures.’” Once he finished, he turned to you with an impressed look. “You’re right! This sounds really interesting, and if you haven’t heard of these figures, then they should definitely be the one we research.”

“Yeah! So we should get started, then,” you said, pulling out your laptop and casually reseating yourself a couple inches away from Jimin. 

“Mrs. Hargrove wants us to do a presentation as well as write an essay for this project...which do you think we should we work on first?” You asked him, sending your mother your location, and opening a new tab. 

“We could write the essay first, and then pull information from that to combine it with what we find from our research for the presentation.” Jimin suggested, taking out a laptop of his own.

“Sounds good! I shared a document with you.”

The both of you spent the next two hours on your computers, researching as many articles on nephilim as possible. It was somewhat difficult, finding authentic sources about the creatures rather than commentaries on media representations of them, but working off of what The Word of the Lost gave you, there was enough to compile a hefty source list.

After that, however, you, still mentally exhausted, started to get distracted, and then Jimin decided to take a break as well. The project was due near the end of the semester, and the two of you had made enough progress for tonight. You deserved this break.

Outside, the light changed from the orange afternoon sun to the cool blue of evening. Before your very eyes, the sky outside was purple, and the oranges and greens of the leaves had disappeared in the dark, turning into obscure figures and shapes outside the window that left you wanting to pull the curtains closed.

A couple of minutes later, you were startled by the click of the library doors.

Mrs. Kim peered through the opening. “Ah, there you both are!”

She approached you and Jimin with two glasses of water, one in each hand. 

You took the glass she handed to you and expressed your thanks. Her hands didn’t seem to be trembling as much as they were earlier.

“How is it going?”

“We made a lot of progress--I think this project is going to be a good one.” You smiled at her and she returned it, relieved.

She raised a hand and paused, hesitantly lowering it gently into Jimin’s hair and stroking it lovingly. The boy froze, lowering the glass from his lips and turning to look at Mrs. Kim.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.” His tone remained flat.

She breathed out a sigh and nodded at him before turning to you. “(Y/N), darling, I believe your mother has arrived downstairs.”

Your eyes widened and you began packing your school materials. “Oh, really? She didn’t even tell me! I must have overstayed my welcome.”

Mrs. Kim laughed lightheartedly. “Not at all dear. It’s most likely because she encountered my husband along the way. They’re both seated downstairs, talking.”

On the outside, you managed to give Mrs. Kim a pleasant smile. On the inside, however, your thoughts were raging. 

Why, of all people, would Kim Moonsik want to have a conversation with her?

If that old man tries to sacrifice my mother to his creepy little moon goddess, I swear, I’ll-

“I can take you to meet with her, no worries.” Mrs. Kim stated, bringing her blazer closer around her shoulders. “I’ll just wait for you outside.”

She glanced at Jimin once more and turned away, heels clacking on the floor as the click of the door sounded.

You zipped up your bag, having nothing else to pack, and pulled it over your shoulder. 

Before you could stand to leave, however, Jimin gently took your hand in his.

“(Y/N), before you go, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The boy was looking down at his lap, his eyes covered by strands of his hair. You patiently waited for him to finish.

“I know everyone is suspicious of us and would rather not interact with us at all for fear of...” he paused on the last bit, “but you have been the only to one to approach us wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you for not treating us like freaks, or some sort of plague or disease like everyone else.” Jimin raised his head, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

You smiled and gently squeezed his hand. “Please, think nothing of it. Why would I treat you like something you’re not?”

“You and your brothers are all just people. You’re a family, just like how everyone else in this town has families.” You spoke quietly. “You may not be the most...orthodox of families, yes, but you’re hardly to blame for that. Who’s to decide what the norm is anyway?”

Besides, I have no reason to hurt you or yours, you thought. 

Jimin huffed out a sob and gathered you in his arms in a hug. You grunted, as it was unexpected, but hesitantly raised your arms to pat him on the back. 

“It’s alright,” you murmured.

Behind your back, Jimin did have tears falling down his face, but rather than a look of sorrow or suffering, sheer, hysterical glee appeared on his face.

He struggled to suppress the broad grin threatening to take over his expression.

The smell of your hair was intoxicating...

“I thank the goddess for you, (Y/N),” he murmured, low enough that you could not make out what he said.

He made sure he regained control of his expression and then pulled away from the hug with a soft smile. He stood up and took your bag for you, much like how you had taken his earlier that day, and led you to his mother, who was waiting outside.

The three of you walked down the two flights of stairs to find Namjoon, Hoseok, and their father speaking with your mother.

She was quite the visage in their home, sitting on the smaller gray sofa, still in her scrubs. 

Kim Moonsik sat in front of her, with one of his sons on either side, looking like interviewers for a job position, while she sat on the edge of the couch opposite them, her hands placed in her lap and looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“Yes, well, working at the hospital has its downsides, but it also has its valuable life experience,” you heard her say. “I truly enjoy caring for and working with all kinds of patients, as well as with the staff of the inter-professional team.”

You heard a hearty laugh, followed by the voice that you were supposed to only be subject to once a month. 

“Careers like yours are crucial in the eyes of the moon goddess, Ms. (L/N). It sounds as though you’re doing a wonderful job.” Kim Moonsik grinned and nodded at your mother, who forced a laugh. “Wylynne looks down on you with favor.” 

“Ah, thank you, Mayor Kim. Praise Wylynne...”

She made eye contact with you as you descended the staircase and quietly sighed in relief.

“There’s our guest for the evening!” Mr. Kim cheered and stood up, walking to stand in front of you and Jimin while his wife slipped by, pressing a kiss to his cheek, as she went to sit next to your mother.

Without the luminescent glow of the moon or the intimidating glow of purple flames streaking across his face, Kim Moonsik almost looked like any other successful businessman and father. He and his wife both had dark hair and dark eyes, and they appeared to be quite the happy couple.

But there was no way that the past several years of monthly meetings was a dream. There was plenty of reason for caution around them, no matter how pleasant they may seem.

Your mother had nagged enough sense into you for you to know that much, at the very least.

You bowed again, hoping your nerves weren’t showing through your voice. “Good evening, Mr. Kim. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He chuckled in a good natured manner. “The pleasure is all mine...I trust you and Jimin were able to accomplish what you needed for your project?”

How did he know? “Ah, yes...we made loads of progress today.” You smiled politely.

“Eunbyul told me all about our visitors just before I arrived,” he responded as though he heard your question and smiled proudly, gently clapping Jimin on the back. “That’s amazing news to hear.”

Jimin smiled cordially, pulling you away from his father and walked over towards his brothers.

“(Y/N)-ie is leaving us now,” Hoseok fake pouted. 

You grimace-smiled at him. 

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed. “She’ll be over here so many times, we’ll start to get sick of her, right (Y/N)?”

“As long as you don’t mind having me over,” you said. “We have until the end of the semester to do the project, so, yeah, I might be over a couple more times...” You slowed as the reality of the situation started to hit. “Actually, Jimin, can I see your phone?”

He handed you his phone and you put your number in his contacts and texted yourself. “Now you have my number, and I have yours.” You smiled at him and handed the device back.

Jimin’s eyes widened in glee and he grinned in return. “Thanks, (Y/N)!”

Hoseok’s fists tightened his pockets.

Kim Eunbyul stood to her feet, her conversation apparently over. “You and your daughter are welcome any time,” she emphasized, placing a hand on your mother’s back. 

“Indeed, Ms. (L/N), Our home is your home.” Kim Moonsik added, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“Thank you so much, we’re truly grateful for the invitation.” You heard your mother say.

You carefully slid Taehyung’s sandals off your feet and lifted them up. Jimin handed you your backpack in exchange for the sandals and you took it, swinging it over your shoulders. “Please tell Taehyung and Jungkook I said goodbye, and that it was lovely meeting you all.” You said.

“We will!” Hoseok smiled, waving goodbye.

“See you tomorrow at school!” Jimin called and waved enthusiastically.

You waved and bowed to the Kims one more time, then took your mother’s hand and walked down the front steps.

Her car was parked outside the garage (read: haphazardly strewn across the asphalt). 

Your mother got into the front seat and put on her seatbelt without saying a word. Even when she began to drive, she was eerily silent.

It was not until the both of you were outside of the gates, down the hill, and outside of the forest that your mother abruptly stepped on the brakes and unbuckled her seatbelt, exiting the car.

You repeated her movements in alarm, slamming the passenger door shut and running to the other side of the car.

You got there just in time to watch as she keeled over on the side of the road and began to throw up.

“Mom!”

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

Back at the Kim household, the instant the two guests left, a violent chill swept across the room.

Hoseok went to stand threateningly in front of Jimin. “Don’t go around thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

The younger boy’s grin morphed into a devilish sneer. “Be careful, hyung...it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous.” He shook his phone, still open to (Y/N)’s contact information, tauntingly.

Namjoon scoffed at their bickering before turning his attention to smile at Moonsik and Eunbyul. “Mother...Father...we bid you goodnight.”

Hoseok smirked, following Namjoon up the stairs.

Jimin made a move to go follow them as well, but he stopped in front of Eunbyul. 

“Mother dearest.” The sophomore gripped the woman’s chin, turning her gaze to land directly on him. “As the most talented actress in our county, your performance could have been a bit more...convincing.” 

He looked her up and down, and then released her, throwing her to the right and out of his direct path. Eunbyul stumbled to the side, her form quite visibly shaking.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future.”

Jimin shouldered Moonsik, climbing past him up to his room on the second floor.

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

Your mother had stopped throwing up, but you continued rubbing her back comfortingly. 

She stood up on wobbly legs and you supported her on the way back to the car. You reached in your bag for your water bottle and some tissues, handing them to her.

She cleaned her mouth off, swished some water around in her mouth, spat it out the window, and then drank some more.

Before you could even ask if she was alright, she turned to you with another stern look. “I was so worried about you.”

Your eyes widened incredulously, but softened just as fast. “Mom, you didn’t have to worry! We were just working on a class project, like I said.”

Your mother nodded and sighed, putting the seatbelt back on. “I understand. It-it’s just terrifying to realize how close you were to-” She trailed off and tried again. “I mean, what if....”

This was a first, for you, to see your mother so visibly shaken. 

She usually was, and is, the epitome of strength in your life. To think that seeing the Kims jarred her to this point...

You grasped your mother’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. They’re just people, Mom.”

“People can be just as dangerous as deities,” she whispered, putting the car into drive.

With that thought, the both of you sat in ominous silence until you had arrived at your home.

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

Once you and your mother arrived, you both had dinner and you ensured that she was able to go to bed of sound mind and heart. From the way she pushed you off of her, you surmised she had collected herself enough to return to her usual temperament.

You made your way up the stairs to your room and threw your bag somewhere near you desk, booking it to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, after a refreshing shower and a change of clothes, you sat at your desk. It was already significantly late, and you still had to complete the other classes’ homework that you didn’t have the chance to start while at the Kim’s.

As you basked in the comfort of your home’s walls, you felt truly relaxed for the first time that night. 

Jimin and his brothers were, for the most part nice, although misunderstood. The student body usually stayed away from them because of their parents and the influence they had on this town.

 Perhaps if this town were normal...

You sighed and immediately chased the thought away. This town was far from normal, that couldn’t be clear enough. And with Kim Moonsik in charge, the sense of unearthliness clearly wouldn’t change any time soon. 

You spent the next couple of hours doing the other assignments to the best of your ability. When you deemed it enough, you decided to call it a night, packing your things away and climbing under the covers.

Just as you began scrolling through social media, your phone vibrated from an incoming notification and your brows furrowed. 

Who was still awake at this hour? And why were they contacting you?

Perhaps it was Mana, you thought, begging to hear details about what it was like at the Kim house before tomorrow. You probably should have texted them when you got home, considering school was no longer the most....open place to have these discussions.

Nevertheless, you opened your messages and, to your surprise, there lay a text from none other than Kim Jimin.

I’m really glad I met you, (Y/N) 😇

Aww, that’s sweet of him, you thought.

You paused, wondering if you should pretend that you’re asleep rather than text him back right now, as the conversation could always continue in the morning.

You also thought of how he might nag you should he discover you’re awake at this hour after passing out in his car and at his house, and winced.

Yes, it would be best to ignore that until tomorrow morning.

Having had enough of the day, you put your phone to charge and pressed your head to the pillow, falling asleep.

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

As Jimin lay in bed that night, he thought about your comment earlier this afternoon.

“I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night...You could’ve woken me up, you know...”

It wasn’t the fact that they were reminded of the sacrifice last night that made them pause.

No, it was the fact that that worthless scum caused their beloved to lose precious hours, minutes, and even seconds of sleep.

Almost every meaningful contribution Natalia Pierre gave life, served to make yours more difficult than it already was.

She should have been a sacrifice much, much sooner.

On the other hand, they should have thanked her, they supposed. For it was her demise that led you to sleep so silently, so soundly in their presence.

They had finally gotten the opportunity to see you at your most vulnerable, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

But they reined in their greed and held any dominating thoughts at bay. For patience was the art of the game.

Sooner or later, willingly or unwillingly, you would present yourself to them and their company.

And they would welcome you with open hearts and open arms.

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

~taglist~ 

@melaninkpops​ @loserwithapen​ @hellaspookystudent​ @ecillartto​ @omgsuperstarg​ @ace-angel-judas​ @jjamsbangtan​ @lovinggalaxies​ @lovesick-heart0​ @ksxmpoison​ @girlmeetsliv3​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @purpuravm​ @oneweirdbean​ @hopelessfountainjoonie​ @mazmaz30​ @enigmaticlove-03​ @uppiespuppy​ 

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

There's a team of heroes vs one villain in the town and one of the heroes gives the others away when they all decide cover up something awful. Villain applauds the hero for coming forward, showering them in praise and affection, but Hero is apprehensive about everything because under the masks they still were friends with the other heroes- and they betrayed them. With no friends and no job, however, they keep coming to Villain for their needs.

Request #16

Warning: torture, descriptions of harm & wounds.

Here you go! 💖💖

~~~~

Hero couldn't believe what lay before their eyes. While they were out on patrol, their teammates had called them, telling them to get back to base immediately. Apparently, they had caught one of Villain's henchmen and were in the middle of interrogating them.

This, however, was not how Hero imagined their 'interrogation' would look like. Henchman's bruised and bloodied body was lying on the cold stone floor, shaking, their breathing dangerously heavy. "W-What happened?!"

"Oh, yeah, they didn't wanna talk, so we had to uh... get a little rough, ya know?" - Second Hero answered, calm and unbothered, Third Hero and Fourth Hero equally unconcerned.

"Anyway, where were we?" - Third Hero asked no one in particular as they moved closer to the fallen henchman. Calling forth their power, they continued, "This bitch still hasn't said a word."

Henchman tensed up, preparing for more pain, before Hero suddenly interrupted, "Hold on, uh- How about you let me take a crack at 'em, ay? And you guys go take a break; it looks like we're gonna be at it for a while."

The third hero considered their suggestion for a moment, not noticing the bead of sweat going down Hero's forehead, and then responded with a grin, "Aight, leave some for us to play with later, though."

The three blood-covered heroes exited the room chuckling, leaving Hero and Henchman alone. As the hero neared the beaten-up crook they tensed up, jaw locking tight.

They did flinch, however, as Hero's hand gently landed on their shoulder. The henchman dared a glance at them, and their confusion only grew as they saw the worry on the other's face. "Are- Are you alright?"

"..."

"Right, okay- you don't want to talk- uh... here." - Hero continued the one-sided conversation, carefully lifting Henchman into a bridal carry. The criminal tried to fight against them but only hissed as pain shot through their entire body. They rested their head against the hero's shoulder with a groan, letting them do as they pleased.

Hero called upon their power, their eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. Henchman was ready for pain, but to their surprise, the hero did not use their power to hurt them. Honestly, they weren't even sure what their power was, as they've never seen them use it.

The faint sound of pitter-patter caught their attention. The room's door opened, and through it came a... spider-shaped machine...? It was quite odd-looking, a short cylinder with some pointy legs attached to it, alongside what was probably cameras going all around its side, giving it three-sixty vision. The contraption was big, too, and apparently sturdy enough for the hero to stand atop it with the henchman still in their arms.

"W-Wha...?" - Henchman tried, but the Hero quickly cut them off, "I can control machines with my mind."

With a surge of power from the hero, the odd metallic spider moved again, taking them out of the interrogation room. It skittered along the ground before suddenly climbing onto the wall. Henchman yelped as they expected gravity to drag them to the floor but were surprised yet again as both humans and the robot moved horizontally to the ground without issue.

The henchman didn't even bother asking as they moved along the ceiling, traveling upside down; they just assumed it had something to do with magnets. They were very high up. The heroes' base had some awfully tall ceilings, but they supposed it was convenient in this scenario, as the two wouldn't easily be spotted. Upon looking up- or down? Whatever it was, they noticed they were currently in a lounge room, the other three heroes chatting amongst themself below them.

Both Henchman and Hero kept their mouths shut tight as they passed over the team and slithered into another room. Once the human chatter faded from their ears, they both let out a breath, the hero's machine speeding up, crawling to a nearby window.

As the cool outside air hit their face, the henchman let themself relax a bit in the other's hold, still confused but now more convinced that they were being helped. The sun had nearly set, and nighttime's darkness was slowly enveloping the city.

As the moon began rising into the sky, Hero and Henchman moved across rooftops and between alleyways, headed straight for Villain's lair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You know, I probably should've asked earlier..." - Henchman began. The two were standing atop a building, looking down at the villain's lair. " But why are you... helping me?"

"..." - Hero was silent at first, a pained frown taking over their face as they thought about their teammates, their friends. They never expected the three would do something like this...

"I... I couldn't just let them hurt you like that. It- It wasn't right..."

Without another word from either of them, they descended down the side of the building and moved closer to the guards stationed outside. Before entering the henchmen's line of sight, Hero moved off their machine, hiding it nearby, and walked closer.

They immediately became surrounded, power-enhanced guns pointed right at the hero. They stood still as a rifle was pressed against the back of their head, and Henchman was carefully taken from them. Their arms were then forced behind their back and put into power-suppressing cuffs.

As the henchmen dragged them along, they could only ponder whether this was a good idea or not. Hero should've thought this through a little bit better, shouldn't they have? It was a very rash decision on their part, but they couldn't just stand by and let the poor henchman get tortured!

They- They were a hero. Their teammates too! All four of them were, or rather, they were supposed to be. And heroes- Heroes weren't supposed to hurt people...

Lost amidst their thoughts, Hero failed to realize that they were already standing before the villain's office. The doors swung open, and they were thrown inside, falling to their knees. Villain looked unsurprised; their henchmen had no doubt informed them of the intruder as soon as they had appeared.

The doors closed and locked, and Hero was now alone with the enemy. The villain was staring down at them, arms crossed and a calculating look in their eyes as if they were trying to figure something out.

Villain was the first to break the silence, "You brought Henchman back."

"So I did."

"...Why?"

Hero went to answer, but a frown returned to their face, the memory of seeing their friends being so casual about hurting someone... It... It just...

"It wasn't right..." - they muttered, the villain barely understanding their words. "They were hurting them... Torturing them..."

"And even though they're your teammates, you still went against them and saved one of my henchmen." - Villain said, a grin taking over their face as they knelt down to the other's level. The hero grew confused as the villain took hold of their chin, locking their eyes.

"I must say, Hero. This was very unexpected but brave of you."

"H-Huh?"

"So, what are you going to do now? Do you have any... evidence of what your little friends did?" - Villain continued as they undid their restraints, letting them stand.

Hero's eyes widened both at the villain's actions and as they realized that they did, in fact, have something, "The security footage..."

"Well, there ya go!" - the villain exclaimed, giving them an oddly reassuring pat on the shoulder. Why were they suddenly being so friendly to the hero? Not to mention they just... uncuffed them like it was nothing!

"Hey, uh... Villain?" - Hero started, uncertainty clear in their voice. They watched as the criminal moved to their desk and sat down. They trailed after them and continued, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but um... why the sudden... friendliness?"

"You saved one of mine and returned them to me. Is it bad that I'm grateful?" - Villain responded, tilting their head to the side and observing the hero curiously. Hero seemed a bit shocked, if not flustered at their reply.

"Ah, well, no- it's not a bad thing! I just- uh-" - Hero attempted a reply, but the villain's chuckle ended their ramble. They stood there unsure of how to proceed and just let the other talk.

"Why don't I repay you, hmm?" - Villain asked with a smirk and a look that made Hero's face hot.

"Uh- Repay me h-how?"

"I'll help you bring your friend's misdeed to light." - they answered, adoring the slight embarrassment the hero couldn't hide. They obviously knew where Hero thought that was going to go; they made them think that on purpose. Villain just couldn't help themself; the hero was always so adorable when they tried to avoid their gaze in that shy manner of theirs.

"O-Oh, right."

Giving Hero an amused look, the villain stood and went for the door, motioning for them to follow. Together, they went to expose the hero's teammates.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few weeks had gone by, and the footage of Hero's teammates torturing Henchman had gone viral online. Millions of people had seen it already and were raising hell, demanding answers from Organization.

The hero had also stepped forward and spoke about it. They thought that this was the right thing to do. They thought that the higher-ups would be pleased with them for bringing such a crime to light. But instead of praise, Hero was met with hostility and threats. They had no choice but to leave behind their heroic work and go into hiding.

As the days went by, they became more and more paranoid, terrified that the organization would find and catch them. Luck, however, seemed to be on their side. A little while after they had gone off the radar, the villain had found them and offered them their help.

Hero was very apprehensive about taking up their offer but nonetheless found themself regularly coming back to Villain's lair. With no job and no friends of any kind, the villain was now, ironically, their only ally.

You'd think that Hero could just find a new job, right? Something normal for a change, but no. That was unfortunately not an option; not only did their teammates know what their face looked like, but so did the rest of the world now. Organization had exposed their face to the globe, and now there was no going back.

They pondered over all of this, questioning what to do. At first, Hero had been living off of whatever scraps they could find, only occasionally coming to Villain for help. But now? They were practically living in their lair, and they hated it. It made them feel like a leech.

Another thing that bothered the hero greatly was that not only did the villain supply them with food and shelter, but they also, at some point, started to take care of their more... emotional needs. Reassuring them, praising them, holding them, it- it was confusing but... welcome...

And it was actually happening right now. The two were currently in Villain's courters, lying on their bed. The villain was on their back, with the hero on top of them, their bodies facing each other. Hero's face burned hotter than the sun as they cuddled, the other's arms wrapped around them, one hand petting their head. How they got into this situation, Hero did not know.

"You know my other offer still stands, right?" - Villain asked softly, breaking them out of their thoughts. The hero snuggled their face deeper into their chest, too embarrassed to look at them before muttering, "I know..."

"Then why not take it? I'd love it if you joined me." - the villain whispered in their ear, making them shiver a bit. Hero had to admit, they have considered the offer quite a few times now. They just... weren't sure if they'd be...

"Would I even be good enough for this...?" - the hero questioned, slightly tilting their head so that they could glance at the other. Villain's hand moved from their head to their chin, lifting it and locking their eyes.

"Oh, of course, you'd be good enough! You'd be even better than that!" - the villain reassured, a gentle look overtaking their features.

"R-Really?" - the hero was still unsure, but they couldn't help but relax under the criminal's gaze and touch.

"Yes, really. After all, you saved my henchman so exceptionally! Sneaking around those heroes and through the city like it was nothing!" - Villain praised, and Hero found themself slowly believing them.

They lay there silently for a moment, Hero battling internally before finally deciding, "A-Alright, I... I'll join you!"

"Marvelous~." - the villain purred, and a new chapter began for both of them.

[make-me-imagine]

Violets: Loyalty and Devotion

Valentines Special: Day Six

Day One: Morning Glories Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips - Day Seven: Lisianthus

Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?

Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).

Gender!Neutral Reader x ???

Triggers: None        Words: 1,535

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery,  @groovyfluxie  Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @gaitwae, @fablesrose, @kitkatd7, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @beksib, @destynelseclipsa, @criminaly-supernatural, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus, @snarky--starky, @saintbootlegloras​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​, @empath-bunny​, @okkulta​, @katinthemoon, @wecallhimbrowneyess​, @ravennight41​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​ , @okkulta​ , @anonymous-pls-dont-click​ (just daily), @username23345​, @hulkswitch​, @theofficialzivadavid​, @lainphotography​, @fred-deeks-ben​, 

February 11th

It was early-morning as you were lying in your bed, still comfortable under the covers. You had stayed up till late at night with the others as you discussed Tony’s Valentines party. Tony was hiring some party planners and caterers today to set everything up. 

You were also bombarded with questions about your secret admirer. And everyone was questioning whether it was one of them, but of course no one spoke up or admitted it. If it was one of them, they played it off very well. 

As you were lying there, you were flicking through the notes you had received over the last five days. You had read over them countless times now, the words embedded in your mind.

You tried to match the language of the words with the people you knew. The most obvious would be Loki and Vision. They both had a way with their words that came off as poetic. But then again, maybe the way the notes were written were purposefully written in such a way as to throw you off. 

Reading over the note that had been attached to the Sunflowers, your eyes read over one part again and again “I adore your grace, and elegance, your compassion, kindness and bravery. There is no way I could not absolutely adore every fiber of your being.”

This part made your heart swell. ‘every fiber of your being’, the good and the bad. You smiled at the words as you continued to flick through them. You felt like a bashful teenager reading through texts from their crush. 

You began thinking about Tony’s party. You wondered if Valentines Day was what all of these notes and flowers were leading up to. It seemed to be that way, and you hoped it was. Though, you were very nervous about it. What if everyone except you secretly knew who it was? God you hoped it wasn’t going to be a public admission. You cringed at the thought. 

After glancing at the clock you figured you had been lying in bed for long enough. Getting up, you took a quick shower and got changed before leaving your room. You weren’t headed anywhere in particular, you had no work you had to do today, so you were free to relax, but you got bored sitting in your room all day. Maybe you’d go for a walk? 

Rounding a corner, you see Bucky, Steve and Sam coming from another hall. Upon seeing you they all smiled and greeted you. 

“Hey” you replied as you approached them “What are you guys up too?” 

“We’re about to go train a bit, wanna join?” Steve suggested. 

“I would but I have been demanded that I not do anything strenuous today because of what happened yesterday.”

“Sounds like a good idea, just in case.” Bucky commented, while smiling fondly at you. “How are you feeling anyway?”

“I feel fine. I’m think I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“A short one” Sam said, as he pointed at you.

You nodded and laughed “Yes, just a short, non-strenuous walk. See you guys later” you said as you parted ways. 

As you began walking towards the exit of the building, you were stopped when a man at the front desk called out to you “Agent L/N!”

“Hey Gene” you greeted as you walked over to him. 

“This letter was left here for you” he said handing you a small pale blue envelope, a sticker with your name printed on the front. 

“Oh, thank you. Uh, who was it left by?” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t see, I was talking to someone else and when I turned back around, there is was.”

“Oh, hmm, thanks Gene” you said as you walked away from the desk and opened the letter. You immediately recognized the font of the letter and your heart began to beat rapidly. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Y/n,

I was so glad to see that you were alright after what happened yesterday. I was so afraid that you were more badly injured. Especially as I sat next to you in your hospital bed, and you seemed so faded. I hope you liked the flowers I left for you again. 

Also, I am sorry for what curiosity and confusion all of this might be causing you. But I must admit, I also hope that you are getting some form of enjoyment or excitement from it as well. I’m sure you must be wondering, when will I finally show myself? And maybe you have already guessed that it will be on Valentines Day. I think it quite suiting, and hopefully romantic. 

So, please wait patiently for only a few more days, and then all will be revealed.

But until then, you still have 3 days before then, including today. I’m not sure when you will receive this letter, but you should have another present waiting for you at your door, perhaps you already received it. I hope you like it. 

Until the party.  ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You smiled at the letter as you finished reading it. Looking around the lobby, you tried to see if anyone seemed to be watching you. But seeing no one paying attention to you at all, and knowing you had yet to receive your next gift, you decided to go on your walk.

On your walk, you could not get the thought of what the flowers you will receive will be. The ones you’ve gotten so far have been so beautiful. You should press them, save them somewhere. Maybe a flower from each. 

Unable to stop thinking about it, you turned back mid way through your walk to head back. You wonder when they always know when to deliver the flowers...

Making your way back into the tower and up to your room, you held an energy of nervous excitement. As the elevator door opened at your floor, you partially expected to catch them there, at your door. But, you were not really surprised when the door slid open and all you saw was a small plant at the base of your door.

It was small, and as you approached it, you could recognize what it was. A small potted violet plant, with blooming flowers sprouting from the top. You smiled as you picked it up, admiring it. 

“Cute” you muttered with a smile as you unlocked and entered your apartment as you plucked out the note from the pot. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Violets.

Violets hold the meaning of Loyalty and Devotion. Both are traits you have and both are traits I admire about you. But besides this, these are both promises. Promises of how I feel towards you. And they are exactly what you deserve. You are loyal to a fault, and you deserve someone to be loyal to you for as long as you live. You are devoted, to saving people, to helping people, to making people happy. And you deserve someone to be just as devoted to you. 

I hope that I can give these to you. I have been loyal to you since before I remember having feelings for you. Because you are the type of person people trust wholeheartedly, as I do. And I promise, no matter what, to be devoted to your happiness.  ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You sat on the edge of your bed as you read the powerful words. “Do I deserve this person?” you wondered out loud. They seem so....well, devoted. You often caught yourself wondering what exactly you deserved out of love, and you have only been hopeful that you would find someone who could make you feel so important and loved. This could be that person.

Sure, you still had your hopes of who this person could be. One person in particular. But, you seemed to find yourself falling for this anonymous person anyway, even not knowing who they are. And to a part of you, it did not matter. 

Was that crazy? Falling for someone when you don’t know who they are? I mean, apparently you did know them, so it wasn’t as crazy as falling for a complete stranger. 

Falling back onto your bed, you stared up at the ceiling. “Only a few more days” you said out loud. Would they show themselves before Tony’s party, during? After? How would you react? 

You only found yourself asking more and more questions throughout the day. Debating whether or not you wanted to talk to someone about it, you decided against it though. What if you ended up telling everything you felt and feared to them on accident. At this point, it could be any of them.

So, you kept it all to yourself. Any time you saw one of the others, they would ask you whether of not you had received another gift, or a note. You would tell them yes, but not go into detail. The notes were too personal, you couldn’t just share them with anyone. They were meant for you. And you would keep them stored away for yourself. Hoping that some day soon you could really talk about them with the one who wrote them for you.

xx xx xx xx xx

I hope you are enjoying these so far. 

I know they aren’t great, since there is no real Character x Reader stuff in it, but I hope you are enjoying the build up and are excited for the endings. 

[whump-a-la-mode]

more comfort for magician assistant villain please? continuation of that one

Yeah! Of course. Thank you so much!

There’s comfort here just. You gotta squint. Also a dog so its comfort for you guys.

Continuation from here.

CW//Nightmare sequence, scopophobia, stagefright, dehumanization, pet whump, compared to an animal, trauma (soooo much trauma), regretting escape, positive thoughts towards whumper

The laughter of the audience cracked the air like thunder-- shaking the very oxygen with its cacophonous uproar.

Usually, Villain did not join in with the din of the audience, but now, they had no choice. The screams falling from their mouth were not of their own control.

At the very least, their terror made them feel as though there was no control to be had over their own desperate howling. Nor was there any control they could manifest over the quaking shivers that rippled through their body like a disturbed lake’s surface.

No. They had no control, no control at all. Because they were in their kennel.

Hero had found out. Villain knew not how, but they had found out. They knew the terror that the tiny steel box struck through them-- and they found it to be nothing but positively hilarious.

“We’ll just have to abandon our old act.” They’d smirked. “We have something much more entertaining, now.”

A new act. Being wheeled onto the stage in a covered crate, presented like a meal to be feasted upon. And, when the cover was torn away, the laughter began.

Their mitted hands slammed in desperation against the bars, but they did not so much as budge. The solid steel construction was as sturdy as it was minuscule. There was no room to turn around, hardly room to breathe. They couldn’t hide from the thousands of staring eyes, the blaring lights, the screams and the uproar. Even as they shrieked themself, pleaded, pleaded for their kennel to be covered once more, their words were treated as only the comedy act’s cherry on top.

And, beside the cage, Hero drank in the glory. They were speaking, words sizzling through the air as lightning strikes and eclairs, but their words were nothing but noise to their captive.

Because dogs did not speak.

They wanted so desperately to leave, to hide, to curl up in the corner of their cell and sob until the world fell away. But there was no cell. There never had been.

There was nothing. Nothing beyond the stage.

“Come here, buddy. Good boy, c’mere.”

Villain head swiveled on its axis, though the tight confines tried to prevent even as a movement so small. The noise, where was it coming from? It wasn’t Hero’s voice. And how could they be expected to come when they were kenneled?

Were they planning to punish them for failing an impossible task?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Good dog! Good dog.”

The words made Villain’s mouth grow dry, tongue sticking to the roof of it. Good dog, good dog, good dog...

“Good boy, Hydro!”

At once, the stage lights blinked out. The audience’s shouts too disappeared, though they clung on in the form of ringing in Villain’s ears.

They could breathe. The kennel was letting them breathe.

They couldn’t feel its walls. Where was the kennel? Where was the stage? Where were they?

A single blink, and the world of the show fell away, replaced by hues of blue and off-white, and the feeling of fleece on their skin.

Where were they? Their vision at last agreed to refocus, though it showed them little more than the remnants of a repaired popcorn ceiling. In an instant, however, that too was blocked out by the shadow of a human figure.

“Oh- Good morning. I didn’t realize you’d be waking up quite so soon.”

It wasn’t Hero. Hero would never say good morning. Not to a dog.

“Wh....” They managed, though the scratchiness of their throat made the noise come out as more of a grovel.

“Hey, hun, they’re waking up.”

“Oh, okay.”

With the trodding of footsteps, the owner of the second voice soon emerged. That voice was familiar, somehow, though it did not make them shake like the voices of most of the heroes did.

Villain blinked, once, then twice, until the figures above them became solid. Two people. Two strangers. Neither wore uniforms of any sort, nor any insignias. Not even nametags...

“It’s good to see you awake again.” The second stranger spoke, tone soft.

“How are you feeling?”

Who in the world were these people? They certainly weren’t heroes.

“Mmm... hurts.”

“You got thrown through a river for, like, two miles.” The first stranger commented. “I’m not surprised that it hurts. I have no idea how you didn’t drown.”

A river. The river. The fence. They’d fallen off, because of the gas, and-

Villain jolted upright, only then noticing that they had been lying down at all. Their head spun, but willpower kept them conscious.

A living room. A house, complete with DIY wall decor and an honest mess. It was small. Cozy.

Civilian.

And-

Bark!

The noise made them jump halfway out of their own skin, gaze swiveling to the source.

A dog, in the middle of the room. A real dog, fur and lolling tongue and all. Some kind of retriever, they thought, pelt woven with hues of cream and gold.

“Now, you are going to show me just how well you can obey-- or I will have your stay here extended until, when I take out that gag, you bark. Got that?”

A shiver tore through Villain’s spine.

“I guess we should probably introduce ourselves.” The second stranger began, casting a glance back at the golden-furred animal. “Um, this is our place, by the way.”

“Oh.” Villain murmured, struggling to focus their gaze on the person speaking.

“My name’s Spouse.”

“I’m, um-”

The two figures shared a glance.

“You can call me Civilian. It’s nice to meet you, even though I’m sure this is... a little weird.”

“Mmm.” Villain struggled to hum in agreement. “Where...”

“Well,” Spouse began. “I was just out walking Hydro, that’s the dog, and I kinda found you on the river bank? I don’t know if  you remember that. Anyways, you said not to call emergency services, and I didn’t know what to do, so...”

“I’m a doctor. Kind of. I’m a resident. So we figured we could try to help.” Civilian added. “It’s not a lot, but... You’re alive.”

“Yea....”

“Spouse?” The figure looked to their partner. “I think Hydro is scaring them. Could you take him outside a sec?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” The other nodded, moving to another part of the building. With a click of their tongue, the animal followed them, tags dangling from its-

Collar.

"Good. Now, good dogs don't need to be dragged. Heel."

Villain’s hand jolted to their neck, feeling the cold of their mitts directly on their skin.

Their collar was gone.

But the mitts...

“I didn’t know if you wanted those off or not.” Civilian spoke, now that their partner had left. “Do you?”

Their gaze cast downwards. The leather was torn and pockmarked, now, but still holding up. Still restraining...

Villain scanned the room.

In the corner, a wire kennel sat. Larger than their own, with its base laden with blankets and plush toys. In another room, its floor made of tile, a pair of bowls sat. Near the couch, a hair-covered dog bed lay.

There was a dog here, too. But it behaved.

And, for that, it was adored.

A shiver ran through them, once more. But this one did not originate from fear.

They’d run from their owner. Their owner who cared about them!

Oh, god. They’d made a terrible mistake. And, why was their head so foggy?

“No. Um, they can... they can stay on.”

“Okay.” Civilian shrugged. “You sound like crap- no offense. Um, I think I’m gonna go grab some water. You want some water?”

“Please.”

“Alright. Just hold still for me, okay?”

“‘K.”

Yet, despite their promise of remaining in place, they could not manage it-- their bones were made of lead, and their head somehow wrought of something even heavier.  Like a stone to a river, they fell back onto the couch, feeling as though they were melting into the plush.

But unconsciousness did not claim them. Not immediately.

Before it did, they heard the words of Civilian, as they moved towards the kitchen:

“Damn, I wish Hero would stop using those gas guns.”

[spencersawkward]

Hii I'm backkk but can I request a little shower sex fic with mgg and he finds out reader has a choking kink? No Dom vibes but just reader loves to be choked and doesn't know how to ask? Maybe a praise kink tho? Please and thank you! 💕🙈

yes fs! y'all i had the shittiest day today lol but writing this made me feel so much better :) anyway i hope i did your concept justice! 

summary: Matthew comes home early and tries something new with reader.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, choking, praise kink, finger-fucking, masturbation, creampie. pretty much just pure smut. 

word count: 2.1k

the water turns hot beneath my fingers as I stand in the middle of the bathroom, my clothes still on. it's been an exhausting day and the only thing on my mind is the image of scalding water on my skin. after being pulled from one meeting to the next without much of a break, all I need is some relief. I feel as though my limbs have been stretched like taffy.

I watch the steam start to issue from the shower, inhale deeply as the air gets warmer. I let my hair down and begin to strip off the garments that have kept me prisoner all day. there's an actual sigh that comes from my chest once I'm completely naked, just looking at myself in the mirror.

I'm about to hop in when I hear something of a commotion downstairs. Matthew was supposed to be at work until later this evening, so my heart stops at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"Y/N!" the sound of his voice sets me at ease. I feel a small, excited smile spread over my face. I've been thinking about him all day, daydreaming during meetings, even. we've been together for a while, now, but the idea of him still fills my stomach with butterflies.

"about to hop in the shower!" I open the bathroom door and call out to him. his footsteps get closer and closer until Matthew is standing right in front of me, tall and pretty and grinning. the top button of his shirt is open. his eyes flicker over my figure and I go to hug him.

"hi, beautiful girl." he kisses the top of my head while he wraps his arms around my waist. he smells like fresh air and that cologne I like.

"hi." I force myself to pull away, look at him more closely.  

"I wasn't expecting this." he refers to my naked greeting, though not unappreciatively. I giggle.

"oh zip it, mister," I turn and grab his hand, tugging him with me into the bathroom. his eyebrows rise at the sight of the steam that's starting to fill the space, but I speak before he can tease. “do you wanna join me?"

he's already taking off his clothes. the shirt goes first, slipping over that delicious torso and landing on the counter. then the pants, the mismatched socks, the boxers. I bite down on my lip as I watch, every feature mine for the taking. he straightens up and smiles.

"what?" he asks. I step closer and touch his face. my eyes must be the size of saucers right now, so in love and full of stars, although I couldn't care less.

"I'm just glad you're here."

he gazes at me a moment, placing his fingers over mine and turning his head to kiss my palm.

"I'm also glad that I'm here," he laughs. I snatch my hand away jokingly, but he takes it again. "ready?"

he opens the shower door and I brush past, yelping a bit when he slaps my ass on the way in. he avoids the waterfall at first, wincing when a couple stray drops land on his skin. "that's way too hot, baby."

"mmm," I frown, but turn the knob to cool it down. "fine."

"I missed you." he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear while I stand beneath the waterfall. his eyes follow the rivulets pouring over the curves of my body, hungry to touch me in the same way. I pull him to me, dragging him under the narrow shower stream.

"I missed you, too." the words come out between kisses. I love winding my fingers through his curls when they're all wet; they get plastered to his forehead in this funny way that's simply too adorable. his hands tug my waist closer, one of them moving down to grab my butt.

"yeah?" he slides his tongue over my bottom lip. "how are you doing?"

"honestly," I remove my mouth just enough for us to nuzzle our noses. "kind of shitty."

"noo," it's said like a whine as he pouts. "what happened?"

"can I tell you later? I don't really wanna think about it right now."

"of course," he smiles gently, once again pressing our lips together in a smooth, delicate swoop. "would you rather think about the fact that we're both naked?" his tongue finds my earlobe. "and we have all--" over my throat. "night--" his stubble brushes my shoulder. "long?"

my knees go weak.

"yes, please." I hum with satisfaction as the pad of his thumb brushes over my nipple. I can feel his erection against my stomach, begging to be touched. and all I want to do is give him something, but he's got all attention on me right now. cupping my ass and holding me to him, grinding our bodies together slightly.

he lets out a lazy groan into my neck before sinking his teeth in. he stops himself, however, to reach between us and run his middle finger down my slit. I hiss in a breath when he pauses at my clit.

"you're so wet." he smirks. I blush and resist the urge to hit him playfully for the stupid double entendre. he's cute.

"ridiculous." I laugh, but it turns into a high-pitched moan because he starts to play with my pussy like it's his fucking job. the water streaming down my back only adds to the sensation. warmth all around me when I grab his forearm as it rests over my stomach. I need it for stability, even as his index dips into my entrance with ease.

"you want more?" he's dexterous in his movements, finding ways to stimulate me while sliding in and out at the same time. I move against his touch and he inserts another digit. my eyes roll into the back of my head. I couldn't speak if I tried; he's too good.

"I love how you feel around my fingers." he moans in my ear. I let go of his arm to find his cock, grabbing the base, starting to jerk him off. he moans at the contact and starts to fuck my hand while getting me off simultaneously. I look up at him while he does it, water droplets sliding off the edge of my nose from the steady stream of hot water. his lips are swollen from claiming me. I wish that I could touch and capture this image all at once, the way he looks.

I feel myself nearing the edge as the rhythm of his circles gets more intense. my legs are slightly shaky but the knowledge that I've got his dick in my grasp is enough to keep me standing. I love pleasuring Matthew. he's so confident and sweet all the time that when he comes undone, it's like watching a painting come together. every line and complexity of his expression is more vivid.

I gasp as I fall apart on him.

"I'm--" I whimper, sighing as I cum. he smirks eagerly, increasing his pace still as if to torture me with another orgasm.

"good girl," he murmurs, entranced. "keep cumming."

"fuck me--" I inhale. "fuck me now."

"don't have to ask me twice." he smiles, removing himself and pushing me against the wall of the shower. the cold tiles cause goosebumps to travel over my skin, but they're quickly forgotten as Matthew kisses me and holds my leg up.

"tell me if you want me to change positions, okay?" he mutters as he aligns himself. even in his sexual stupor, he makes sure I'm comfortable. we never have shower sex because it's usually impractical; this is a special occasion. I nod and then his tip is pushing into me. he's quick to sheathe himself, dropping his head onto my shoulder and letting out a loud, lascivious moan.

"oh my fucking god." he breathes, starting to thrust. I dig my nails into his shoulders from the intensity.

"that's so deep." I moan. he's pleased with that thought, going a little harder to brush over my cervix.

"there it is." he chuckles darkly at the sound of my heavy breathing, knowing he's found that spot. his fingers slip over my waist, grasping roughly at me in the wetness of the shower. somehow, he's still careful. I buck for more and he whimpers at the feeling of my impatient body. all I want is to cum on him again, and I know he wants to find that release.

"you're perfect." his movements are so well-executed, our stomachs and chests pressed together. I'm standing on my tiptoes for him, but it's not uncomfortable. he's holding one leg up for better access. my back moves up the wall at the force of him.

"fuck..." I throw my head back against the tile and Matthew's eyes flicker to my hickey-scattered neck. he bites his lip.

"pretty marks." he smirks. I look at him deeply for a moment, at the vein in his forehead and the tense of his shoulders as he fucks me, and I feel the pressure build in my stomach. I know what I need and I've never shared it before-- but god, do I need it. I don't know how to tell him where.

instead, my hand finds his, guiding it up to my throat. his fingers wrap around the column slowly and he raises his eyebrows.

"you want me to choke you, sweetheart?" he asks, pace getting faster. I nod. he follows through, tightening his grip just enough to allow me the room to breathe without imposing too much, and I feel myself get even more aroused. Matthew keeps glancing between his touch to the euphoric smile on my face, and he goes harder on me.

"you look so fucking beautiful like that," he pants. every time his hips slam into mine, I feel myself losing control. "with my hand around your throat."

I squirm and hold onto his arm again for balance while he works me like he knows my body better than I do. he lifts my leg a little higher and the angle changes slightly, causing us to both let out pleasured noises.

"always so tight for me." he holds our foreheads together and swallows my heavy breaths. we move so easily, him and I. like we've always done this. we fit together. I can't get enough of his skin.

"Matthew..." I whine, trying so hard to meet his thrusts. he's fucking enormous as he stretches my walls. the first time we had sex, he wasn't able to get all the way inside until we had almost reached our climaxes. but now I'm always able to take him. even though he sometimes leaves a dull ache in the morning.

"too tight?" he asks carefully, removing the pressure. I shake my head and bring it back to me. he lets out something like a laugh, although he's too wrapped up in his pleasure to really commit to it. "tighter?"

"mhmm." I love how it feels, as though he's boxing me in. it's just him and I, my touch wandering over his back. I squeeze around him to feel the warm pressure moving into me.

"that's my girl." Matthew smiles, using his grip on my neck to lift my mouth to his for a kiss. I moan as he continues to hit my g-spot over and over, the feeling almost blinding. if we could stay like this, his body shoving so voraciously, forever, I would be happy.

every moment is electrified. I can feel his cock in the deepest part of me while he moans my name and drowns me in compliments, his thrusts starting to get erratic. his thumb is rubbing gently over the skin of my neck in a gesture of tenderness, even as he just slightly cuts off my airway. it's heavenly. we hold eye contact.

"such a sweet girl." he's messy and I can't stop whimpering as I start to pulse around his length. I feel my orgasm coming fast and hard, like a wave, and the stress from earlier washes away from my muscles. every place he touches is like the unwinding of a string, a loosening that I've been needing.

"I'm close." I whisper. his thrusts are pushing me up the wall so hard that my toes leave the ground a little. I'm not complaining as he propels his body to mine.

"me, too, baby. cum on it." he groans at the pulsating sensations, his lips pressed to my cheek while he lets out sinful, delightful noises. I pull him under the tide, clenching my pussy around him again and again until he shudders and his jaw drops.

"oh fuck, baby..." he moans in my ear. I can feel his seed inside, him stilling as the muscles in his shoulders jump. my fingers loop around his neck to help support him while he loses it all, and I can feel the quickness of his pulse. his grip lowers from my neck and then we're just caught in a warm embrace in the shower, breathing in steam and the scent of our skin.

"wow." I run my fingers through his hair.

"I had no idea you were into that." he lifts his head to smile a little at me.

"I didn't know if you would be okay with it." I shrug.

"it's hot." he smiles and we start to kiss all over again, just the two of us.

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | SEVEN

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,000

warnings: fluff. angst. language. not even sure why i warn for angst anymore this whole story is just angsty af

18+!!! minors stay away!

In the following few weeks, you realized two things. One: Peter Parker was definitely not subtle. The other being that you were definitely in way over your head. There was no denying the stupid butterflies in your stomach anymore, or the way you found yourself expecting his touch before it even came.

It seemed as though the two of you were like magnets; a constant tug gravitating the pair of you back to each other with an unstoppable force. If you weren't together, he was on your mind, and like he could sense you thinking of him he'd be quick to reach out in some way or another. Be it appearing at your side, all happy grins and playful eyes, or calling your phone no matter the time with his stupidly adorable stutter--Peter seemed to think of you just as much as you thought of him.

The more that you thought of him, the more that you wished you didn't. It was terrifying. You wished that you could pull away again, to push him back out of your heart and lock those iron bars tight once more, but your heart had grown selfish and stubborn. It was as if you were the one locked out anymore; the control over your feelings slipping further and further from your clutches with every toothy smile Peter sent your way.

Like a magnet, he held you in place. Oh, to be held by... You slapped a pillow over your face and screamed, holding it so tightly that your nose ached and you couldn't breath. Peter Parker was like a disease. A stupid, all-consuming, utterly infatuating disease of the mind and the spirit.

You knew that you were wasting time, undoubtedly causing yourself to risk being late for school with every minute that passed as you continued to lay in your bed, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up. Already, your mother and father both had knocked at your door on multiple occasions and questioned if you were sick, and now you were regretting saying no. It would have been so easy to avoid him if you'd just played hookie.

But, with midterms in the near future, you knew it wasn't the best idea. The realization had come to you in the night. A moment so insignificant, so mundane, but it had been as if a switch were flipped in your mind. A light was turned on, so to speak, and illuminated all the thoughts and emotions you'd been so tirelessly repressing.

Talking on the phone with Peter was like a drug, and talking on the phone to him at night was a dangerous game. Under the dull light of a crescent moon and the ridiculous teddy-bear night light that was plugged into your wall, a lingering remnant of your sister's presence in the space, your inhibitions were always low. With sleepiness your walls were always lowered, and he'd unknowingly put a fatal crack in the foundation.

You rolled onto your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet through the air like a little kid as you fought back the grin that always seemed to worm its way across your lips when you were talking to him. "So, how do you like Ned and MJ?" Peter asked, and you could almost picture him mirroring your position as you heard the quiet rustle of blankets over the line. A little giggle bubbled out of your mouth at the thought.

What a sight that would be, Peter kicking his legs to and fro like a school girl in love. "They're cool. I kinda like that MJ doesn't even pretend to hide the fact that she thinks I'm weird. I don't--I don't know, it's refreshing I guess. Ned's sweet." you rambled, and it was the truth.

Ned and MJ were easily slipping into the fortress that shielded your heart with every passing day. Somehow, it wasn't as terrifying as you'd expected it to be. Perhaps that was because they didn't harbor a secret identity with which they risked their lives every single night, or maybe it was just because you'd come to realize that letting people in wasn't so bad. Not everyone was going to die on you.

Michelle Jones really didn't pretend not to think you were weird, not even a little bit. Her blunt and honest nature was a nice change from the quiet stares that seemed to follow your every move; MJ wasn't much for staring. Rather, she boldly told you what she was thinking without any shred of doubt.

And Ned, sweet Ned Leeds, was like a puppy personified. Always happy, always smiling, and always waiting to offer you compliments when you approached. You couldn't remember the last time someone had dared compliment your hair, your smile, or your outfits. Ned made it impossible to feel anything but comfort and joy in his presence, even his awkward nature was endearing.

"I'm glad." Peter hummed, "They really like you. To be honest, though, I kinda like it when it's just us. Maybe I should have waited a little longer to share you."

There was a pang in your chest at his words. Peter had been subtly flirting with you for days now, but this was more direct. He didn't have to come right out and say it for his implications to come across loud and clear, and that magnetic pull grew stronger.

So strong, in fact, that you murmured back, "I like it when it's just us, too."

If you had just kept your mouth shut, maybe he wouldn't have been so bold as to say, "Not gonna let them steal your heart from me, are you?"

The words were right at the tip of your tongue. Your heart was screaming, never! Nobody could ever steal me away from you, Peter! Yet, your mind was racing with a million and one horrible thoughts that made you feel as though your mouth was full of mud.

The silence between yourself and Peter grew thick as it drew on, no words escaping your lead-like lips. The voice in your brain, the one that sounded like your sister yet you knew was not her, was ringing in your ears. How could you ever fall in love, when she never could? How could you give your heart away, when she never had the chance?

You took that chance away from her. You stole it. This thing, whatever the weird force between the two of you was, was all stolen time, stolen opportunities, and stolen lives.

"Good night, (Y/N). I'll see you at school?"

You whispered, "Yes." The line went dead, and you felt cold.

Those simple words from Peter, with meaning and intention that was far from simple, were all it took to send the walls, bars, and barbed wire around your heart crumbling into nothing. With no protection, no barrier between yourself and the dangers of everyone else, your mind was working on overdrive. It would have been so easy to let him in, had that voice remained quiet, and yet you were steadily building those bricks back into place.

Now, all that was left to do was to steal your heart back. When had he managed to take it from you? Had he snuck in during the night, slipping through the strategically placed cracks and weak points he'd created, and stole away with it undetected? Had he taken it that first night, without you ever noticing?

As you finally released the pressure over the pillow on your face, sucking in a shaky breathe and letting all the heavy things crash over you again, tears burned your eyes. You didn't want to push Peter away. You didn't want to be the reason he was hurt, upset, or angry--you weren't ready to be the villain in his story.

"Mom?" you called out, knowing she was lingering close by.

Proving you correct, the door to your bedroom cracked open only seconds later and your mother's worried eyes fell upon your blinking ones. She definitely saw the troubled look on your face, the tears in your eyes, yet she held back from mentioning any of it as she asked, "Are you sick, honey?"

You nodded, the lump in your throat aiding your act as you croaked, "Yes. I don't feel good."

She frowned a little, knowing that you were bending the truth of the matter. Your mother was perceptive, and with the emotion all over your face, it easy for her to know that this wasn't some stomach bug or sore throat. To your relief, though, she resigned, "I'll call you out of school for the day. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Tomorrow, you could be the villain. For today, though, you were content to avoid your troubles and wallow in your self pity. At least this way you had some time to slip back into your stoic, cold demeanor before you had to face him. Time to prepare yourself to be alone again, because you knew that once you pushed Peter Parker away, Ned and MJ would be quick to follow him.

Sleep didn't come for you like you hoped it would. Well, it did, but then you found yourself dreaming of Peter and woke with a start. School had started an hour ago, and already there were a flurry of confused and increasingly alarmed messages from him lighting up your phone screen. Even though you couldn't hold back from reading them, you locked it before you found yourself replying as if on autopilot.

Pete: are you late

Pete: i'm at your locker

Pete: hello?

Pete: i'm going to class... see you there?

Pete: are you okay? you said you'd be here

Pete: at least let me know you're aldkhdkfj

You spent the day in your room, ignoring Peter and ignoring the world. Occasionally your mother would crack open your door to check on you, fussing over feeling your forehead despite the fact that you both knew you didn't have a fever, and tittering little comments about getting rest and staying hydrated. She knew you weren't sick, yet you were grateful she didn't try to pry.

As much as you wanted to tell her all of the things that were on your mind, the reasons that you were upset, you couldn't. You couldn't tell her all of the awful things you were thinking, and see the way her face would contort in anguish over you. You certainly couldn't listen to her telling you that it wasn't your fault, you weren't wrong for liking a boy, and your sister would want you to be happy. Even if you knew, in some deep part of your brain, that it was true.

Pete: got my phone taken in calculus sorry

Pete: I'm at lunch now, are you okay?

Pete: are you sick?

Pete: like... actually sick?

Peter really was relentless. You wondered how long it would take for him to catch onto what you were doing, or if he would at all. Would he understand why you suddenly gave him the cold shoulder? Would he understand, and be okay when you pushed him away again?

Pete: I'm in speech now.

Pete: we got the class to work on the speech and you're not here

Pete: not that we could do much anyways since you're so stubborn but still

Pete: okay what is going on

Pete: (Y/N)

Pete: please talk to me

Reading all of his messages kept the ache in your chest alive, stopping the numbness from creeping back in. You wished you could put your phone down, turn it off even, but it was like a cruel an addicting game to read each message as it arrived. You found yourself watching the little three dots as he typed another message eagerly, even if he was far from happy.

When school ended, he called. You let it ring each time, watching his name scroll across your screen over and over again until it ended. Once, twice, three times--he finally stopped calling, not leaving a voicemail.

For awhile, you wondered if that was it. Was he done? Had he caught on? Had he figured you out just as easily as he always seemed to do? Had Peter given up?

Pete: i know what you're doing

Pete: i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable

Pete: we can just be friends if that's what you want

It wasn't what you wanted, and that was the problem. You didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. Well, you didn't want to just be friends with him. You wanted to know what his touch felt like when it was deliberate and welcoming, not the fleeting and curious brushes of his skin on yours. To be held by him, to taste his lips, to hold his heart in your hands like he already held yours--you wanted so much more than friendship with Peter, and that made you a thief and a fraud.

You: that's not what i want

You were weak. A weak, cowardly idiot is what you were, and you threw your phone on your bed with a groan as you realized what you'd done. The voice in your mind whispered insults, taunting you for being so easily broken.

Pete: what do you mean

You: i don't want to be friends with you Peter

Pete: oh

One simple word, and you realized he had taken that in a completely different way than you had meant it. Yet, you didn't correct him. You didn't explain that you meant you didn't want to just be friends. Maybe this was your chance--an easy way to kick him outside your walls without having to see it firsthand.

The chance didn't last long. A quiet knock sounded on your window, and your heart froze in your chest as you tried to sink deeper into your bed. It was the wind, you told yourself, until the knock sounded again and slightly louder. You could see the shadow on your floor out of the corner of your eye, and you buried your face into your pillow to block it out. If you ignored him, he would go away, and this would all be over.

After a few more knocks, it was silent for awhile, and you tempted a look at the floor only to frown at the sight of the shadow missing. He was gone, and you were alone again. Your lip quivered at the thought; what had you done? It was a mistake. This was a mistake.

You didn't want to push him away. You wanted him to hold your heart. You wanted Peter Parker as your friend, as more than a friend, hell, as anything as long as it was with you. But now? Going back on your word and dragging him back in again would be pathetic. He didn't deserve such treatment, especially not from you.

So, you pulled your pillow back over your face and let the tears fall. Your hot breath burned your eyes and made you feel sticky and gross, but you didn't care one bit. It felt cathartic to cry, like returning to a familiar place you'd been skirting around for ages. Crying over Peter was different than crying over your sister; the hurt was different, but one thing was the same: both were all your fault.

"Go away, mom." you whined, barely hearing the sound of your door unlatching over your muffled sniffles. It creaked further open, and you groaned, pressing the pillow harder onto your face, "Mom, please, I just want to be alone."

A throat cleared, and you froze. That wasn't your mother, the voice was deeper. The sound was still too light to be your father's, though, and that left one option that made your blood run cold. He didn't--did he?

He did. Peter pried the pillow out of your hands, all red cheeks and sad eyes as he stared at you in a sullen silence. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered, "Why are you pushing me away?"

You blinked at him, too paralyzed by the sight of his fluttering eyelids and pouting lips to speak. It must have been a sight to see you like that, your face red and blotchy, streaked with tears and snot that you'd been too lazy to wipe away. He didn't look away from your eyes, though, gazing into them with an intensity that dared you to look away.

Sensing that you weren't going to speak, he pressed on, "(Y/N), what is going on? I don't--It's okay if you don't like me back, I can deal with that. I want to be your friend, though. I thought you wanted to be mine, too."

Voice scratchy, you muttered, "I don't."

Something changed in him, and suddenly Peter was raking a hand through his hair as he frowned deeply. You wanted to smooth the crease between his brows, but you felt frozen. He was angry; he was angry with you, and he didn't hold back as he snapped, "That's bullshit, and you know it. If you didn't want to be friends, then why did you make that deal? Why did you let me make a complete fool of myself just to get your attention? Why did you let me introduce you to my friends? Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not!" you yelped, sitting up frantically and wiping at your face, finally. "I'm not lying, Pete!"

He threw his head back at the nickname, a sigh of exasperation forcing its way from his lips, nostrils flared. "I don't get you, (Y/N). I don't get you at all." he growled, facing you again with a heavy brow.

You gripped your blankets tightly, bunching them around your waist as you blinked at him with wide eyes. "I don't want to just be your friend, Peter!" you burst, "I don't want to just be your friend, and I don't know why. You make me feel all these things that terrify me, but I keep chasing after you and whatever those things are! It was so easy being alone, okay? Then suddenly you came swinging into my life and made everything so--so complicated!"

Your mother's face peered into your room, eyes blown wide in surprise, but the moment you glanced at her she backed away with a bitten smile and you flushed. You didn't get the chance to dwell on the fact that she'd been eavesdropping, though, because Peter sat on the edge of your bed and bit the inside of his cheek, blinking at you with teasing eyes.

"So, you like me?"

Eyes narrowed, you grumbled, "Are you really going to make me say it, Pete? After all of that?"

A sly grin stretched across his lips, cheeks puffing out adorably and making you bite your own to keep from grinning too. He tutted, raising his ruffled brow as he jabbed, "After everything else today? I think it's the least you could do."

You were screwed. His fingertips barely caressed the backs of your knuckles, and you shakily grabbed them before he pulled away again. "I like you, jerk." you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut as you felt your face burn in embarrassment.

Peter just chuckled, squeezing your hand as you felt your bed shift under his weight. "I don't want to just be your friend, either." his breathe fanned over your cheek, and your eyes snapped open to find his face closer than ever. If you just turned, ever so slightly, his lips would brush your own... He kissed your cheek softly, backing away with a tiny smile that you matched. "I like you a lot. Probably more than like, really."

"That scares me." you whispered, eyes still latched onto his, "Peter, you scare me."

He took a long moment to answer, weighing heavily the words he would utter next, before finally telling you, "You scare me, too, but I think it's worth it."

A gentle tapping at your door crashed through the moment, both of your faces burning a deep red as you turned to face your mother's sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry, don't mind me--"

"Mom!" you wailed, slapping your hands over your face in mortification as she stealthily slipped into your room and dropped a box of condoms onto your dresser before racing away again. "Oh, I can't believe she--Mom! Did you really have to do that?"

Peter was laughing boisterously, head thrown back and eyes shut, though you could tell he was flustered too from the cherry red color that creeped down from his face and under his shirt. As humiliated as you were by your mother's actions, you couldn't help but to feel a little grateful for the interruption. The intensity, the tension in the air, had disappeared with the intrusion, and things felt a little bit lighter again.

You flopped back onto your bed, still pouting over the spectacle, as Peter breathed out, "That's so something Aunt May would have done, too."

At least you weren't alone in the embarrassing family department, you thought to yourself as Peter threw himself down beside you. She meant well, obviously, but did she really think that you and Peter were going to go from admitting you liked each other to ripping each other's clothes off in one night? Well, you were eighteen--maybe she had a bit of a reason to be so hasty.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Peter questioned, and you turned your head to face him, trying to ignore the close proximity of his face to your own. "Liking me?"

You chewed at your lip, listening for that voice in your head that had suddenly gone silent. "Yeah, yeah I do." you responded, and his face split in a blushing smile. You did think it was worth it, because being with him reminded you of all the good feelings you missed out on when he wasn't around. "I just wish we could have been like this before. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like I'm stealing her life."

He grew serious in an instant, eyebrows furrowing as he stated, "I don't." At the sight of your confusion, he continued, "I don't wish we met before. Can you honestly say that you're the same person you were before?"

"No."

He nodded, "Exactly. Stuff like that... It changes you. I would know, remember? You wouldn't be the you that I like, and if Uncle Ben were here maybe I wouldn't be who you like, either."

You had to admit, he had a point. "I guess so." you pondered aloud.

"You're not stealing her life, either, (Y/N). She would have wanted you to be happy, to do all the things she never got to. It took me a long time to stop thinking that way, too, but I did. It wasn't your fault, and you can't miss out on stuff just because of her." Peter advised, and you swallowed down the lump that was growing steadily in your throat, "She didn't give up her life for you to stop living yours."

Fuck, Peter really knew exactly what to say. You, however, were at a loss for words. He said all of the things that you'd needed to hear for so long, so perfectly, and it rocked you to your core. How did he know just what you needed to hear? The answer was simple--because he knew you, and he knew how you were feeling. He knew, because he had lived it.

Changing the subject, you asked, "So, what do we do now?"

You didn't have to explain for him to understand, and he swallowed thickly, "Do you... will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That might be worth it."

He scoffed, "Might be? Forget it, I don't want you to be my--"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Pete!" you cut him off, laughing loudly. "I really, really want to." So, maybe you lied when you said that Peter made things complicated. In fact, Peter made things incredibly easy--and that made it worth it.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony @cherthegoddess @justsomebodyweird