#already fighting for his life in that suit they had to borrow

[afrophunk]

Parent-ish teacher conference went ok-ish

Tiencha design based on @stephanos-spaceopera 's Tiencha design. Or “Tienca” according to stephano

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[screamforyani]

cariño

warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end

a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head

wc. 1.1k

“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you. 

you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.

the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you. 

maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex. 

not that you were complaining. 

“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”

“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference. 

you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”

you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick. 

“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”

miguel spat, “you annoy me.”

“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”

you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”

“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.

you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.

licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.

that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.

“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”

“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.

your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”

“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”

“go faster!”

you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”

“do i have to?”

“do you want to cum?”

miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”

“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.

miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.

it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.

and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.

miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.

“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware. 

miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.

that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.

“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.

that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth. 

“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”

[sleepy-wyvern]

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked. 

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was. 

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes. 

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad. 

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed. 

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you. 

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt. 

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily. 

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it. 

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe. 

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything. 

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?” 

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out. 

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside. 

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear. 

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go. 

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider. 

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

[verdemoun]

can I get some timewarp Charles or Dutch? I love your au 😭

cracks every bone in my hands lets fucking gooo

charles blessed and beloved. he died of illness in 1908 but it was so peaceful he died in his sleep in a warm bed and as got sick he accepted it with a very similar flare to hosea talking about bessie where he was quietly hopeful he would get to see arthur again and instead of being jolted to the present like the more violent deaths he just woke up peacefully to an arthur that got to age and looks healthy and is smiling at him so affectionately because he missed him so much

they're in love, your honor

arthur already has his own place (very close to hosea's, of course) so charles immediately moves in with arthur and they fall into domestic bliss without actually having the conversation of 'i know we were close friends and confidants with unaddressed feelings in the past and it's been almost a decade and you had to mourn me but do you want to be my partner for the rest of our natural lives btw i have an adult son'

charles is still awkward though he didn't understand life and people in 1899 sometimes modern era is just too much they'll be grocery shopping and someone will say a new sentence so stupid he has to go sit in the truck and just disengage with society for a while.

he has zero social media presence and cannot handle the constant depression of tv news media. what do you mean people are still fighting over civil rights and racism back in my day you could throw a stick of dynamite at a kkk meeting or shoot a eugenicist in front of the law and no one cared. if he's home alone he's listening to cds on through an actual cd player

charles smith would absolutely fuck with a home depot helping john build beecher's hope awakened something in him. the garage is almost as big as their house on one side you have arthur's eclectic collection of passing interests including the car he's working on and on the other side you have precision organised charles's expanse of every kind of tool you can imagine. hand tools power tools different kinds of wood organized by tree and then grain

he might be a little in love with the customer service guy at the tool shop who is similarly awkward and accidentally blunt with a flat sense of humor. no small talk. just 'this is my project' 'you will need this. this is the brand we're meant to promote but this is just as effective with more attachments and it's cheaper' 'thank you' 'it's literally my job'. sometimes they go to each others workshops to show off their projects he is charles 'doesn't drain my social battery' friend

charles' job title is just 'decent guy with a truck' every construction company in the local area has his number and will send him a text asking him to help out on a job or if they can borrow some obscure power tool only charles smith would have. it suits charles really well because it means he can just turn off his phone and go on a spontaneous three week hunting trip with arthur and isaac without needing to communicate with anyone. people know if you don't hear back within 15 minutes he's turned off his phone and you will hear from him when he gets back from whatever adventure he's gone on with his family find someone else to do the job

for a lot of the gang they almost have to get to know charles again like he became a lot more comfortable with himself as a person between 1899 and 1907 the first time he cracks jokes or acts downright silly they almost don't recognize him. like yass charles be happy.

admittedly he is the guy they call to help build furniture charles doesn't follow ikea instructions he just rocks up with a drill and assembles it the way that makes sense

eliza and charles are besties and arthur lives in constant fear. they go out for coffee and gossip about whatever the latest antic is. she talks to charles honestly more than arthur and takes charles to functions when she needs a plus one because they are both just wallflowers who talk shit about everyone else quietly. isaac sitting patiently in the principal's office having gotten in trouble for something stupid with the most passive aggressive slight smile on his face as he hears charles and eliza pull up (arthur got banned for threatening the principal)

i may need to part 2 this for dutch

[delicatemusickingdom]

Book 1 Part 2 Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2: Eddies of War

The seasons cycled once more. Just like the unchanging summer heat and winter cold, everyday life in the lower quarter remained unchanged. 

Be it working in the fields, fetching water, or even travelling to the ‘other side of the wall’ for work — the battle against poverty continued with no end in sight. Norein’s lessons, too, and Yuri and Flynn’s sword training as well. 

“Daaah!”

“Too slow!” 

“Not yet!” 

Metal clashed with metal, sending sparks flying. Those sounds rang out in intermittent, yet sometimes regular intervals, like bizarre-sounding music. 

“Haa!” 

Someone exhaled sharply, and an incredibly sharp and forceful sound rang out, followed by a continuous rattling, grating sound. All that remained was the sound of two people breathing heavily.

Yuri stared sullenly at the hatchet that had fallen to the ground. It had been in his hand moments ago, but now all he felt in his hand was numbness from the impact. 

“What did I tell you? If you swing it around too much, you’ll only leave yourself wide open.” 

Flynn spoke as he relaxed his stance. He was using their sword, as usual. 

“……It was supposed to chain together a bit more smoothly.” 

Yuri grumbled as he picked up the hatchet. It had once been too big for his child-sized hand, but now he found it much easier to handle. 

On the days when he didn’t have ownership of the sword, Yuri would often train using the hatchet he borrowed from the shed in the fields as a replacement. It was to make up for not being able to use the sword, but at the same time, he felt strangely familiar using it — after all, he had killed his first monster with a hatchet. Wielding it was quite different from wielding a sword, and he’d almost hacked himself with it more than once, but somehow he’d managed to make it this far without incurring any serious injuries. 

Of course, Flynn wasn’t going to keep quiet about this. There was nothing more dangerous than watching from the side, and the training manual — which, thanks to Norein, not only Flynn, but also now Yuri could read a large portion of it on his own — wrote instructions based on the premise that the reader would be using a sword, not an axe. Flynn couldn’t stomach seeing Yuri, who was barely more than an amateur, change the written instructions as he pleased to suit his own style.

Yuri’s handling of the axe was, to put it mildly, ingenious. To the swordless Yuri, the axe’s centre of gravity, which was different from that of the sword, gave him new ideas. To compensate for his current lack of strength, he learned to utilise the weight of the weapon itself. These moves were fundamentally different from that of chopping a tree or splitting firewood. And then Yuri tried to apply the knowledge gained from using the axe to the sword. 

“That’s not swordplay, but acrobatics!” 

But despite Flynn’s repeated warnings, it was clear that Yuri had made considerable progress with his own fighting style in his own way. Flynn couldn’t deny that, which annoyed him even more. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, which is why they should cut off all ties……wasn’t an option — after all, he still felt indebted to Yuri for buying the sword. Which meant he had to use his own strength to teach Yuri the rashness of his actions, which led to the confrontation moments ago. But Yuri showed no signs of having learnt his lesson. 

When they sparred against each other, most of the time, Flynn would emerge as the victor. Despite that, Yuri never showed signs of giving up, and often found something to reflect on. He had felt his progress in his own way, and in the first place, he was doing this in order to defeat Flynn. In a sense, he had already factored in losing to Flynn in these bouts. 

Flynn never attempted to wield an axe unless it was for his manual work, and so such clashes between the different weapons were limited to the days when the sword belonged to Flynn.

There was something that the two of themselves hadn’t realised. It took a certain amount of skill for them to be able to spar seriously without injuring both sides. Without realising it, at some point the two of them had attained that level of skill. And the people who used to be terribly afraid at the sight of them sparring were now long gone. 

****

When Norein wasn’t teaching or they didn’t have their manual work to do, Yuri and Flynn usually spent their time training, or playing with Jareth and the other boys like the children they were. Lately they’d been tasked by Jiri and the other adults to take care of the younger lower quarter children — some of which, of course, had no relatives. Despite his grumbling, Yuri was good at taking care of them, and the little ones were sensitive enough to see through him. As for Flynn, he was popular with them from the very beginning. Yuri was the only one unused to this amiable side of Flynn’s. 

Most of the time, when they had something to do, and when they had nothing else to do, the two of them could often be seen together, and most of the time they would be quarrelling with each other. 

“You’re only ever awfully on edge when you’re with Yuri, yet you two are always together.” 

“Y’know, you act pretty mature, Yuri, but when it comes to Flynn, you always get so worked up.” 

The adults and children all said the same thing, albeit using different words. Things like, the two of them are always together, or the two of them are such good friends. And the two of them in question would, upon hearing that, made their displeasure known on their faces. 

In any case, without any incident-like incidents occurring, the days passed by peacefully.

Ever since his pursuit of the mysterious ‘Dark Wings’, Yuri hadn't gone near the Grey Alleyways. Now that he had a clear idea of what kind of place it was, he had no reason to challenge it out of some sense of courage. It would be different if the ‘Dark Wings’ showed up again, but he’d only hear the occasional rumours of thieves, and most of the time they were stories from the ‘other side of the wall’. 

He hadn’t seen the knight uncle he’d met back then ever since either. Knights would come to visit the lower quarter from time to time, but Yuri never saw any familiar faces among them. Maybe if he could look under their helmets he could recognise them, but obviously there was no way to check them one by one. 

Once, a company of knights had come to the lower quarter carrying something in a cart. They looked slightly different from the usual knights, and had provided them with monsters they’d hunted from the ‘outside’ to use as food. The residents were puzzled at first, but gradually lowered their guard when they saw that the knights strangely lacked any arrogance in their attitudes, and even called out to them to see them off as they left. 

Regardless of who they were, the sight of the knights reminded Yuri of the uncle’s words. Maybe something is changing, just like the uncle said. He didn’t really understand it, but it was in a good way. It didn’t seem like a bad sign. Even Jiri, who had a bitter way of looking at things, had honestly expressed her gratitude. 

“What good people. It’s a shame to just leave them as knights.” 

Many of the adults wished the knights would visit again, but that never came to pass. Yuri didn’t feel particularly disappointed. After all, the lower quarter was a huge area. If those knights were like Yuri thought, by now they were most likely distributing gifts in the same way to the other districts. And in the end, it was the same as receiving charity. Yuri couldn’t bring himself to wait for the knights’ return while filled with anticipation in exchange for his pride. 

There were knights like that too. For the time being, that was enough for Yuri. 

Peaceful days. 

As long as this continued, everyone would be able to live peacefully without needing to be happy. Those were the days. 

****

“Is Teacher Norein still not feeling any better?” 

Yuri asked one day, when the break from lessons had entered their second week. 

“Yes…… Her fever won’t go down. She doesn’t have much of an appetite either……”

Flynn answered weakly. His usual cheerfulness had completely disappeared. 

When Norein had first arrived in the lower quarter, her body and mind had been severely weakened. But after finding her reason to live as a reading and writing teacher, it looked as though she had regained her health. And then several years passed, so he thought her recovery must be genuine. Even though she sometimes fell ill, at most it was a cold, and her condition had never been this serious before. That was why Flynn was so worried about his mother’s illness this time. 

“Hanks said he’s going to call a doctor. According to him, there are some doctors who are willing to visit the lower quarter.” 

Flynn managed to regain a bit of his composure and said. 

“Huh, I didn’t know there were doctors like that. Guess that’s a relief.” 

“But because that’s the kind of doctor he is, he’s incredibly busy, so we have to wait for our turn. We don’t know when he’s coming.” 

“What the heck? What if she gets even sicker in the meantime?!” 

“……” 

Flynn bit his lip and hung his head. He looked like he was suppressing the feelings in his heart. Yuri couldn’t bear to look at him like that. 

“……My bad.”

Even though they’d honed their sword skills, the two boys were as powerless as ever. 

****

Despite the boys’ anxiousness, the doctor came to visit a few days later. He arrived at the bottom of the hill at dusk, and was, like their reputation said, not so arrogant for a person from the ‘other side of the wall’. They could sense hints of condescension in his demeanour towards them, but in the first place, having a doctor visit the lower quarter was unprecedented. This much could be tolerated. 

Still, Jiri didn’t forget to warn them beforehand. 

“Listen here. It’s incredibly rare for a doctor to come all the way here on foot to heal someone. Don’t do anything unnecessary and don’t make him angry.” 

With those words ingrained in their mind, the adults and children went to welcome the doctor. Hanks and the other adults showed the doctor their hospitality in the lower quarter way as they guided him to Flynn’s house. Yuri, and the other people who had attended Norein’s lessons, or were close to Flynn and Norein, followed along. 

Norein could hardly get up to welcome the doctor, and could only lie in bed, taking in laboured breaths.

Flynn stood by his mother’s side, accompanied by Jiri. The others had to wait outside the room until the medical examination was over. 

The moment the doctor saw Norein, the expression behind his glasses clouded over. He took out some equipment from his bag and asked the people around her some simple questions, but the medical examination itself was short. For the people who had been waiting impatiently for his arrival, they felt a bit indignant. 

****

“……So, Doctor, how is her condition?” 

Hanks asked. He had come inside after being informed that the examination was over. Behind him, Yuri and the others also followed him into the room. 

The doctor didn’t take his eyes off Norein, and his expression remained grim. 

“It’s unfortunate, but this is beyond my ability.” 

“!!!” 

Flynn’s eyes widened and he lunged forward, but a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. When he looked back, he saw the stone-like expression on Jiri’s face. It was inscrutable. 

“Could you please explain a little more, Doctor?” 

The doctor didn’t look overwhelmed by the pressure, but he still took off his glasses and wiped them nervously. He put them back on, and then, as if he’d recited it beforehand, began to speak. 

“It’s a rumour among my colleagues in the same profession, but a strange illness has been spreading throughout the imperial capital for the past month or two. You can’t find anything wrong, but the whole body continues to weaken. Eventually…”

“Are you saying she has this same illness?” 

The doctor nodded at Jiri’s interrupting words. 

“…This is just a rumour, but according to a mage, there has been a strange disturbance in the aer in the entire imperial capital lately. Aer is the source of life after all, and it coincided with the time the illness started to spread. Some say that the illness is the result of people who are sensitive reacting to that change, but there’s no way to know for sure.” 

The aer that the doctor spoke of was the power that was the source of everything that shaped this world, and its existence in itself was power in the purest form. Although it was an indispensable power for blastia and magic, it was a word far removed from the everyday life of the residents of the lower quarter, and in fact didn’t provide them with any understanding at all. 

“So can you heal her, Doctor?” 

Still firmly pinned down, Flynn couldn’t take it anymore and cried out. The doctor glanced in his direction, but he must have sensed the relationship between the boy and the patient, because he returned the boy’s gaze uneasily. 

“So far, I’ve never heard of a case of a patient recovering naturally on their own. Without a high-level healer, or a panacea…”

Healers. They had the power to cure illnesses and heal injuries with the help of blastia. Apparently the most skilled healers could even revive the dead. But it was common knowledge that they were small in number, and most of them were either registered as members of the Imperial Knights or went door to door taking nobles as their customers. The lower quarter already had trouble finding a decent doctor with what little money they had scraped together — to them, the monsters roaming outside was a more realistic presence. 

“Then Doctor, please give us a panacea bottle. we’ll find a way to pay you back somehow.” 

It was expensive, but as they were sold in stores, panacea bottles were more common than healers. But at Hank’s words, the doctor shook his head

“There are no panacea bottles. As its name suggests, it is true a panacea can cure this illness. But right now, even if you searched all over the imperial capital, it will be extremely difficult to obtain the medicine.” 

As soon as the strange illness started to spread, and they learned that it was the only cure other than seeking a healer that usually demanded exorbitant fees, the nobles and the rich had rushed to buy up the panacea bottles — even before they themselves showed any symptoms of the illness. As a result, the panacea bottles weren’t just out of stock but also scarce in supply, and their prices had only continued to skyrocket. 

“Rumour has it that there are some people who are even buying up the stock of panacea bottles that come into the imperial capital from outside to raise their prices. Thanks to that, a lot of ordinary doctors like me have our hands tied. It’s been a month since I used up the last of my stock. If I’d known, I would have prescribed the medicine more prudently.” 

The doctor’s voice was filled with anger. At the very least, he seemed to have enough professional ethics to be angry at this obstruction of medical treatment, more so than his reluctance to reveal his powerlessness to the residents of the lower city. That being said, it didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t help Norein. 

In the end, the doctor took the medical fees and left. It was money that the residents of the lower quarter had pooled together, and even though the doctor’s visit hadn’t helped Norein’s condition at all, it still had to be paid. Though there were some people who lamented Norein’s inability to receive treatment, no one lamented that the money had been wasted. That was how the people in the lower quarter lived. 

Nobody brought up the possibility of the Imperial authorities acting. If the government regulated the speculative hoarding and tried to encourage an increased production of medicine, the situation might improve. But those same authorities were definitely the ones currently monopolising the panacea bottles, keeping the medicine tucked away in their pockets. That was what authority was. This was also common knowledge in the lower quarter. 

Even though he didn’t know the details, Yuri still understood. Whenever the word ‘noble’ or ‘rich’ came up, it meant you were helpless to do anything about it. Just like the knights, it was all a part of this great, big unfairness. He was angry, but at the same time, he was also used to it. 

There was one person who didn’t understand, and didn’t try to understand. Someone who, despite living in the lower quarter as one of them, wasn’t as used to letting go of his anger as the other residents. 

And that was Flynn.

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[guardian-rocket]

@byondtheveil

Rei knew Rocket had been in town. They had planned on meeting up tomorrow cause he was doing stuff with the avengers today... She didn't care which one it was, whoever abandoned Rocket was going to get a beating... even if it was Thor she'd just have to find a way to hit harder... or maybe she'd rebuild her flame thrower...

It didn't take long for Rei to pull up to the address Rocket sent her. Sure she had to borrow her neighbour's car since her truck was being worked on, but she didn't mind. Usually, she'd just walk but she wasn't sure how sloshed Rocket might be, "Hey there did someone order a tiny redhead ready to kick ass??"

Rocket had slugged his drink as he waited, mulling over his conversation that lead to the argument with Sam. He was always the first to admit he didn't care about the grand scheme of altruism, but Sam had pointed it out and somehow it hurt is pride, pride he didn't even know he had. He was frazzled on trying to figure out if he really DID or DIDN'T care. In trying to defend himself and the work he's done, the fact he had a hand in saving the universe a handful of times already and put his life on the line without a second thought.

What started as a toast to the mission they shared mutually turned into some weird interrogation. Either he had to admit he did care or admit he was a self centered prick who only cared about his own inner circle of friends.

Flashback:

"No, it's not your shooting skills I'm questioning. It's your motives. You fight, sure. But it seems like you're only in it if it benefits you or your little circle. You don't really care about the bigger picture, the masses out there who suffer while we're sitting here, sipping drinks."

"So, what? You're saying I'm no hero because I don't go around saving every flarkin' person in the galaxy? I look out for my team, Sam. They're my family. You gonna fault me for that?"

"It's not about faulting you for caring about your team Rocket. It's about what it means to be a hero. It's about doing the right thing, not just for your own, but for everyone. Even if it costs you. That's what being a hero is."

"I never said I was a hero."

"Then why are you upset?"

"Because you ain't got a right to say that. Listen to you, all high and mighty. You think I don't know about sacrifice? About loss? I've given more than you'll ever know, fought battles you wouldn't last a minute in. Just because I don't broadcast it, just because I'm not out there playing the hero for everyone to see, doesn't mean I don't care."

"Maybe you're right, Rocket. Maybe being a hero can mean different things. But at the end of the day, it's about making the universe a better place, not just for us, not just for our families, but for everyone. Can you honestly say you're doing that?"

There was a long pause, Rocket was fuming, "Oh, cut the sanctimonious crap, Sam. You think you're any better? Flying around, saving the day, but only when the cameras are rolling. You're a hero when it suits you, when it makes you look good. What about the dirty, gritty sacrifices no one wants to make, huh?" "No right? When you sit here, dismissing the value of lives because they're not part of your circle? That's where you're wrong. I thought there was more to you, Rocket. I thought underneath all that fur and attitude, there was an Avenger. Looks like I was wrong."

Rocket then growled, more animal-like than man, his hackles going up, and immediately he realized Sam looked uncomfortable, like seeing Rocket like that startled him, and Rocket noticed he didn't care. He was use to that sort of reaction but there was something in his eyes, in Sam's eyes that bothered him. It was like Sam didn't like him at all.

"That's it. I've had enough of this." Sam grumbled as he stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor, echoing through the tension-filled bar. "I thought we could find some common ground, but I don't see what Cap sees in you."

"You're leaving? Just like that? After starting this whole mess? The frick is wrong with you?" Rocket's voice cracked a little, and if Sam felt bad at all, for anything there was no sign of it.

"Looks like it. You're resourceful, Rocket. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Rocket ordered his drink shortly after, letting himself calm down before he called Rei for a ride, letting her know he was free early and giving her a short and very vague explanation of what happened without divulging the topic or what was said. As far as Rei knew he just got in a dumb argument with his ride.

/end flashback.

Rocket went outside as soon as he estimated she'd be close by and sure enough, Rei arrived to his rescue. Wasn't that ironic?

Even with him, angry, sad, and dealing with his own emotions, Rei still seemed to be able to fish a smile out of him.

"Ah... lucky for him he already left," Rocket teased as he let himself into the vehicle. Rei could probably smell the taste of liquor on Rocket, who was by no means totally drunk, but drinking a human sized glass of hard liquor did make him a little tipsy.

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 18

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,462

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: FIGHT OR FLIGHT

Clearly, Steve has never been on a family road trip before; a fact that you had become painfully aware of (literally) while squished in the backstreet of the tiniest getaway car ever 'borrowed'.

"I think we're all adults here," he assured, but he's awfully quiet now as he has been for the last thirty minutes. Only once did he meet your silent glare in the rearview mirror as you both suffered another round of bickering between Sam and Bucky. All adults? Well, he thought wrong.

Naturally, you're very happy for a chance to finally stretch your legs and breathe your own air while Steve meets with the rest of your little makeshift team of fugitives. Aside from Clint who you give a mock salute to as a greeting, you don't know the others personally, although you assume the girl must be the famous Wanda Maximoff Natasha's mentioned from time to time. As for the overly excited Captain America fan, you don't know who he's supposed to be, not that you won't likely find out later.

"There's still time to turn back," Bucky warns quietly, crossing his arms over the car roof.

You're leaning against it next to him, "Nope, you're stuck with me, Barnes. Wherever you go, I go."

He doesn't appear too disappointed, replying merely with a nod, yet his anxiety's clearly there. Whether it's because you guys could lose out there or the idea that all these people will be risking themselves for his sake, you're not sure, however you set a hand over his gently, something that's become your wordless language of comfort; he has no complaints.

A German voice echoes through the car lot, gaining everyone's attention including Steve's. He looks around uneasily which isn't surprising; even he must be worried regarding how this might play out, "Alright, that's our cue to get moving. Suit up."

As everyone begins passing out uniforms, you suddenly groan and rest your head against the car dramatically much to Bucky's concern, "What's wrong?"

"...It's only just now occurred to me that I've been wearing pajamas this entire time...I'm gonna be fighting, like, half the Avengers in my pajamas - and they're not even cool ones!" You whine, your face burning with embarrassment (and slight jealousy). It's amazing what goes unnoticed when you've been repeatedly attacked both physically and mentally throughout the last forty eight hours.

"Yeaaah, as much as I'd love to see you roundhouse kick someone with flannel pants on, Steve asked that I bring you a little something different," although your misery is apparently very amusing to watch, Clint takes pity upon you despite his smirk and grabs a stack of clothes from the back of his van.

This outfit certainly surpasses any expectation you had which only anticipated something simple and more dignified than pajamas. It consists of a black, long-sleeved jumpsuit with silver seams made from a flexible yet durable material completed with slim shoes built in. Set on top of the stack is a pair of fingerless gloves, a utility belt, and a small handle without any blade, however when Clint picks it up and turns one of the dials, a baton stick appears with a glow of blue electricity around it.

"Figured it was about time you got your own suit. No more fighting in formal work clothes or pajamas," Steve comments. When you look at him, you catch sight of the gentler glimmer hidden behind his amused smile. Bouncing on your heels, you happily thank both him and Clint before hurrying around the car to change.

"Alright, listen up everyone. The original plan was to take a chopper, but since Stark hasn't wasted any time getting here, we'll have to switch things up a bit. He likely has eyes all over the tarmac, so I'll be going out there on my own. When he confronts me, I'll keep him distracted for as long as possible. That'll hopefully give us time to see who else is here and gain an idea as to what his game plan must be. It'll also give us time to find out how he arrived since I refuse to believe Stark would take public air.

"The Quinjet is likely hidden around here somewhere. Sam, I want you to scout it out using Red Wing. Sneak inside the airport, taking cover there with Bucky and (Y/n) while you search. Wanda and Clint will keep an eye on the situation from the parking deck while Scott will cover me from nearby. Remain unnoticed until Sam locates the Quinjet. That's when we'll make a move for it."

Pinning down the Quinjet's location was the easy part, however getting to it would be far more challenging especially considering the party Tony's gathered.

Based on what you had overheard through the comms, Rhodey and Natasha have picked Tony's side along with the company of two newcomers, one being the same cat-guy who attacked Bucky back at the apartments. Earlier, Steve told you that his name's T'Challa and that his father was a causality in the UN bombing which explains that kitty's determination in stopping Bucky. You unfortunately have no information on the last person until hearing a thud against the airport windows.

Sam, Bucky, and you had already been running to hanger five when the person dressed in a red and blue spandex suit starts crawling across the glass after your trio. Before much can be said as a reaction, they push off then use their momentum to shatter through the window, ultimately kicking Sam across the hall; he only had time to brace himself for the impact.

Bucky spins around, blocking you while throwing a punch at Sam's attacker, however his fist is easily caught midair by the kid - yes, kid, judging on the youthful tone of his voice.

"Woah, you have a metal arm? That's so awesome, dude!"

Having someone easily stop the full force of a super soldier's punch takes Bucky off guard, leaving him dumbfounded for a pause which is long enough for Sam to recover. On his feet, he quickly charges at the boy - who seems to be spider themed provided the tiny spider design on his chest and web patterns of his suit - then lifts him into the air away from the two of you.

"Ugh, I can't believe Tony brought a child to a fight. The hell was he thinking!" You complain aloud, chasing after Sam and spider-boy with Bucky remaining close by your side.

They tussle with each other near the ceiling of the building, spider-boy eventually getting away, although that doesn't stop the fight as he pursues Sam by swinging on webs and weaving through the rafters. Meanwhile, Bucky and you aren't too far behind.

Even with the new weapon provided to you by Clint, there's nothing you can personally do to help given this fight's height, but the same doesn't apply to Bucky. Ripping an advertisement sign from the ground, he tosses it towards spider-boy, only hesitating afterwards when you give a shout of disapproval, yet the sign had already left his hands by that point. Fortunately, spider-boy turns around at just the right moment, leaping out of the way before he can be hit.

"Bucky!"

"What?!"

"He's a child-!"

"-Hey buddy, I think you lost this!" Your complaint is cut short when Bucky grabs your shoulders and pulls you against him behind a pillar. He leans over you, keeping you close as the sign is sent flying back towards the two of you with enough force to cut through the pillar mere inches away from Bucky's head.

Looking back at the damage, you shallow whatever concern you once had over the kid, deciding to worry less about morals right now and more about not being killed yourselves. Thus, when spider-boy's distracted by Sam, Bucky and you move to find cover elsewhere behind an information stall that isn't sliced in half.

As you both keep an eye on things from there and await an opening to help Sam, a web is shot at his gear, causing him to crash into a phone market below. Stumbling to his feet, he tries to engage again, however more webs are shot at his hands, sticking him down to the railing behind.

When the boy swings towards Sam with legs drawn forward in preparation to kick him, Bucky runs forward, attempting to shield Sam, not that it does too much good. Both men get kicked off the edge together, landing on ground-level where spider-boy then webs them to the floor.

You curse to yourself at this, crouching along the many chairs and stalls to quietly yet swiftly make your way to the paused elevators. You're thankful that, by the time you get down to them, Sam has used Red Wing to grab spider-boy and toss him out the window which will hopefully buy you guys time to at least get out of this cramped building.

"You guys okay?"

"I'll be better when I get this stuff off of me," Sam grumbles, unable to even sit up on his own due to both of his arms being practically glued together, "I don't even want to know what it is!"

Looking over the sticky substance with a scrunched nose, you realize there's no way it can simply be pulled off given its strength, "...Hold on, I have an idea."

Taking your baton, you mess with the dials a bit to get the exact setting you desire. At first, the same electric current from before appears with a sharp buzz causing Sam to jerk away and shake his head rapidly, "Oh no - No way! Do not electrocute me! If you're gonna run an experiment, test it on Bucky first!"

"Hey!"

"Just - Hold. Still. You won't get electrocuted-" Turning the dial all the way, the baton stick disappears, but leaves the blue current which pulls together with a blow of air, transforming into a blue flame. It surprises even you, being much too strong until you turn a second dial that brings the torch down, "-You'll get burned, but that's only the worst case scenario and if you move!"

Needless to say, your words bring Sam little comfort. Bucky, on the other hand, is very amused until it's his turn.

Racing onto the tarmac, it doesn't take long to spot the rest of your team. Everyone’s heading in the same direction with a concerning lack of any tails, however it doesn’t take long to find them. Seconds after making it out into the open, a golden ray burns through the cement, cutting off your paths.

The newcomer is yet another Avenger you haven’t met yet. If you had to guess, you'd say he must be Vision, your sort-of-grandnephew going off of what you've been told, but that's a looong headache of a story you're happy you weren't involved with judging on Natasha's account.

"Captain Rogers, I know you believe you're in the right here, however for the collective good, you must surrender now," the rest of the Avengers stand behind Vison, coming together as a barrier between you and the Quinjet.

"What's your call, Cap?"

"We fight," there's no hesitation in his voice nor feet as he begins marching forward despite this roadblock. The rest of you, while showing some concern, follow his lead.

Your pace starts out as a jog then slowly picks up speed until a full sprint towards Stark’s team, your speed mirrored by them as they, too, show no signs of backing down, fully intending to meet you head on which is precisely what they end up doing.

As expected, it's immediate chaos filled with flying fists, blasts, magic, and arrows; a whole collection of superhero powers coming together not to fight a crazed villain, but each other. It's an uncomfortable thought regardless of how many of these people are total strangers to you. If they're here helping Tony, they must be good at heart, after all, it's unfortunately your side that's made up of criminals.

You take some sort of solace in putting your arm up to block a kick to your face which seemed too lazy to actually carry any malice. It might not be appropriate provided the timing, yet you take zero shame in giving a friendly nod to the leg’s owner, “Hey Nat.”

"Hey," she swings her leg down, throwing a punch your way instead. She’s going easy on you - as easy as a black widow can go, anyways, since the force of her punch still burns against your palm when you catch it. She has to keep you on your toes, doesn’t she?

“I like the suit. Is it new?”

"First time wearing it!" You announce proudly, standing back while gesturing down your body. You punctuate your sentence by throwing a punch her way.

She dodges with ease. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards herself roughly, she pins your arm under hers, "Looks good."

"Thanks," she then tries to flip you, but you maneuver against her too quickly, grabbing hold of both her forearms to keep her at a distance. You both keep your grips on each other's arms, smirking the other down until Natasha suddenly pushes you back. A flash of light hits a few feet away, not close enough to be a danger to either of you, just to get your attention.

"Mind if I cut in?" Clint saunters over, nodding his head to the other side of the tarmac, "I think Barnes could use a new partner himself.”

Following his gaze, you realize he's right. T'Challa has Bucky alone, the two engaged in a close fist fight. Thus, you leave Natasha to Clint, rushing to grab your baton and reach Bucky's side. By the time you get there, T'Challa has him knocked down and pinned against a stack of crates.

His focus is taken, preventing him from noticing you until you swing the electrified baton square into his back. It’s plenty strong, resulting in his knees buckling and body freezing in place as he deals with the buzzing pain. Bucky then sweeps his legs out from under him, throwing him to the ground.

"You good?" You have to ask even if Bucky’s already on his feet ushering you away from the dangerous feline.

He gives quick assurance to his well being, the two of you disappearing behind equipment before anyone can attack either of you again. It's from there that you scan the makeshift battlefield, checking to see if anyone needs help, which seems to be the case for everyone really. Each fighter is occupied, running or zipping across the tarmac with someone always on their tail. No progress has been made towards the Quinjet; you’re still just as far as when Vison first appeared.

"We can't keep fighting them forever. That guy's probably in Siberia by now," Bucky points out, not that you need the extra stress.

Steve takes cover behind some equipment opposite to you two, "I'll cover you while you get to the jet-"

"-Steve, I don't think that's possible," you're quick to argue, "There’s too many eyes in the sky right now and they’re all looking for Bucky. Even if you go out there to fight some more, Tony’s not going to be fooled so easily. If it’s not him, then someone else will just blow past you to get to Bucky; you can’t keep them all at bay.”

"Look Cap, I think we have to face the fact that not all of us are going to get out here," Sam's voice echoes over your ear piece.

"If we're gonna win this, then some of us are going to have to lose it," Clint adds.

"If anyone’s getting on that jet, it at least has to be you and Bucky - (Y/n), too, if you think you can stick together that long."

“...The problem is, even with those who will stay behind as cover, we’re too equally matched to beat these guys. Slipping past isn’t reliable unless we can give Tony a concrete reason to turn his head," you cut in, catching Steve's eyes. He’s clearly not overjoyed about this condition, but not everything can end perfectly especially in a battle, "Right now, this fight alone isn't doing that. We need something bigger - a distraction none of them can't simply turn away from."

"I’ve got something bigger, but I can't hold it for long,” Scott offers, “On my signal, run like hell and if I end up tearing myself in half...Well, don't come back for me."

"How's that going to help us...? He’s going to tear himself in half?" Bucky whispers, but Steve brushes him off.

"You're sure about this, Scott?"

"Yeah, I do it all the time - Okay, once - in a lab...then I passed out...but don't worry! I've got this!"

"Where'd you find this guy again?" You ask, not receiving an answer. Maybe you wouldn't have liked it anyways.

Continuing to keep an eye out on the battlefield, you search for Scott's 'signal' which you assumed would be a shouted call or explosion knowing how Avengers usually work. 'Something bigger' only done in a lab before passing out…? Not a lot to go off of there.

Even if using more of your imagination, you certainly weren't expecting Scott to suddenly appear out of thin air nearly the size of one of the airplanes parked around. He grabs Rhodey mid-flight and tosses him across the airport which provides enough of a distraction (and a clear enough signal) for Steve, Bucky, and you to start running towards the Quinjet.

Trusting that Scott and others can cause enough mayhem to keep Tony’s team at bay, you ignore much of the crashing behind yourselves with eyes glued forward. Steve leads the way, easily forgetting that not everyone following him is a super soldier, although Bucky takes some more consideration for you, only running a foot or two ahead while looking back every few seconds to ensure you don't get separated.

You're almost there when a beam is sent flying past, hitting the tower above the hanger which sends it crashing down in a cloud of dust. For a handful of seconds, the debris pauses with the help of Wanda's red magic keeping it up, allowing you all just enough time to roll inside the hanger before the tower finally crashes down behind.

It seems like you're at last in the green, the tower’s destruction appearing to have successfully blocked anyone else from getting over too quickly, however not everyone missed your plan until now.

Standing between you three and the Quinjet is Natasha who steps forward with a tired sigh, "You're not gonna stop, are you?"

"You know I can't," Steve answers, his voice sympathetic at the least.

Natasha then glances at you. You don't say anything, but you don't need to since your eyes do enough pleading as does the image of you standing beside Bucky. Your stance does waiver when put up against one of your closest friends, yet it’s clear that you have no intentions of abandoning him even for her.

Natasha had always been your friend, but your bond had grown much stronger once she became the only person you’ve ever trusted with Hollie. After listening to your stories and woes for the last two years, she’s come to understand the inner turmoil you suffer from, often in silence.

As crazy as it had been to accept back then, she now realizes the true extent of challenges encountered by someone with their past life’s memories. She knows it hasn’t been easy for you - far from it - and she knows how much joy it’s brought you being able to be with Bucky again. He had been tragedy ripped away from you in the past without any form of goodbye; as someone who knows all too well what that feels like from their own personal experience, Natasha can’t blame you for holding onto him so tightly even if it divides you from your other friends and family.

Shaking her head slightly, she returns her gaze to Steve, raising her arm in his direction, "...I'm going to regret this."

You inhale, preparing for the heartache that would come with a loss, however Natasha doesn't shoot a taser at Steve. Instead, it goes past him, hitting a different target: T'Challa who had just made his way over the debris, prepared to lunge before Natasha's betrayal which stops him in his tracks.

"Go."

Steve and Bucky take this chance without hesitation, rushing to get on the Quinjet, yet you stay temporarily, long enough to show your relief through an airy voice, "I'm really racking up my debt to you, Nat."

"And I still plan to cash in on it some day," she winks, returning your genuine smile before you hurry after the boys. You have a long flight to make, after all.

NEXT CHAPTER➡️

⬅️PREVIOUS CHAPTER

[forgottencerberus]

No Hound Can Outrun Ananke - A Soap x F!OC fanfic - Chapter I

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x F!OC

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Teasing, Flirting, Eventual Romance, Maybe eventual smut?, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Denial of Feelings,

Warnings: Detailed depiction of gore, fights, torture, and struggles with mental health (majorly PTSD and anxiety).

READER DISCRETION IS HIGHLY ADVISED, MINORS DNI! THIS STORY WAS INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY!!!

Please forgib any grammatical wobbliness, English is not my native tongue.

Summary: Romana "Cerberus" Hanlon was never meant to join the Mexican Special Forces, but faith deemed that she must. Tortured by her past, she is alive yet barely living as she tries to find her place again in life, both as a soldier and a person.Then one day, all is changed when she is put on a mission by Alejandro. She soon finds herself surrounded by new faces and dangers, and lost pieces of her that she thought were gone are slowly falling back into pieces. The question is, can she fully heal herself with the help of others, or is she destined to fall apart once again?

[LINK TO THE AO3 VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER]

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The moon was lonely tonight, sitting upon its throne in the sky in its entirety but with no stars to accompany it. Not a single cloud was attempting to take away from its beauty, as if they were banished, letting the big, cold goddess of the night claim everything for herself.

Romana slowly made her way up the mountain, her eyes already adjusted to the darkness. Her steps were steady and deliberate as she walked a seemingly unknown path. She could hear the animals scattering as she approached, and despite not seeing any of them, she was aware that hundreds of eyes could be looking at her back right now. She looked down for a second, chuckling as, for a split moment, she could not tell the tall grass and her own legs apart due to the ghillie suit that she was wearing. She missed wearing them. Due to her tiny form, she always had to personalise the suits whenever she got her hands on one, but it was worth it in the end. Did she look like a bog monster crawling out of an 80s horror movie? Quite frankly, yes, but she loved that look. Who would not want to be a bog monster in enemy territory anyway?

It took roughly an hour for her to reach the top of the mountain. Once at the top, she laid down on her stomach as she crawled towards the edge, taking in the sight before her. The hills were just as beautiful as she remembered. Gorgeous but deadly. She had her ways of self-protection, but she knew that if anyone less experienced was to be lost up here during a night like this, they might as well not make it.

She heard a wolf’s howl in the distance. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from, as the sound could have bounced from any part of the mountains, but it was a bit too close for comfort. She quickly got her axe out, and put it next to herself, just in case she needed it. With the outfit that she was wearing and how quiet she would be, it was not out of the question that a wild animal would stumble upon, even step on her. She wanted to be ready to protect herself from them if needed.

She slowly started to set her station up. First, she put her sniper rifle down, which was taking a piggyback ride until now. Soon a tripod and several goggles appeared from the depths of her bag. After everything was set, she eagerly looked into the scope, watching the houses on the opposite side of the mountain and the people among them. At that moment, she was grateful that the special forces had several thermal scopes, one of which she managed to borrow for this mission. She would not have been able to see half as much without it.

She shook her head when her eyes landed on a cartel member. The lad was wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night, and his gun was dangling over his shoulder as he walked with leisure step. He was smoking the biggest cigarette that Romana had ever seen, hand-rolled, no doubt. He was not alone either.

She started counting, and to her surprise, she did not find that many of them. Ten or so patrols, which was way less than what she expected. “Maybe inside?” She whispered to herself and aimed her scope towards the windows, lingering on each of them for several minutes, hoping she would catch movement. She did, but again, it was a lot less man than she would have imagined until she reached a particular building. That one was packed with people, and it was getting harder to see how many of them exactly, as they were practically running around as if getting ready for something. She made a mental note for herself before changing her thermal vision scope to a normal one and aimed at the window once more.

“Got you now,” She thought as she spotted Hassan, taking in his details. He was most certainly preaching on about something as he was sitting in front of a rather scattered-looking communications station. When he stood up, Romana could not help but notice the way he was standing.

He held his head high, eyes dark with purpose, shoulders tense as he talked to one of the cartel members. In her experience, only two kinds of people were standing like this on the regular—the ones who would die for the world and those who would seek to destroy it. Hassan was no doubt part of that second group.

She could have easily popped his head right there and then. She had a clear line of sight, and with this much darkness around, she would more than likely be able to get away with it too. But they needed him alive, and she was well aware of that. “After everything you have done, you still have your lucky stars, huh” She murmured as she moved the scope.

She noticed that an armoured truck rolled into the premises. Several heavily geared-up men stepped out of it; even someone who did know better would be able to recognise that they were people from the army. Romana gritted her teeth at the sight of it. The army was in the Cartel’s pocket, that was known, but their presence in this operation could complicate many things. She had to let Alejandro know as soon as possible.

She whipped the phone out of her backpack, ready to text Alejandro, when she noticed that there was no signal. “Of fucking course,” She cursed under her breath. This meant that she would need to climb down the mountain and then scale back up again, which was risky. During this time, she could be discovered or captured. But this information needed to be delivered to Alejandro as soon as possible. She quickly but quietly packed her things and headed down, checking the phone every ten minutes or so to see if she had reception. Once she was sure that the message would reach Alejandro, she typed away everything she saw. When she was done, she took her axe and slammed it into the phone, destroying it. She buried it deep into the ground and headed back to the top, cursing inside and hoping she would not slip and fall in the dark.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

She wiggled her toes to make sure that they were still there after laying on the ground for so long, without moving an inch. It was already the morning; she had no doubt that Alejandro and the rest of the team would show up soon, so she tried to revitalise her body.

However, when she heard the sounds of footsteps, she froze. It was rhythmic and quick, way too purposeful and loud for it to be of an animal. 'Who the hell would come up here?' She thought to herself as she slowly reached towards her axe and started shimmying away from the edge and towards the grassy areas, leaving her rifle behind. Her heartbeat was picking up as the steps were getting closer, and soon she would also spot the source of it. Someone from the Mexican army, carrying a rifle similar to Romana’s. The realisation hit her fast. They are deploying snipers, and she did not tell about them to Alejandro.

She cursed to herself as the men spotted her weapon and backpack on the ground and headed towards them. She was not spotted yet, with a heavy emphasis on the yet. She had several options. One was to let him observe her gear and possibly report try to report to his teammates about them - something that might not work, as the mountains caused severe issues with some communication systems, or she could take them out. Still, it would risk the person not being able to reply to the checkups in case the communications did work on their end. Neither of the options was optimal, but when she heard the sound of distant gunfires, she knew that she had to make the decision instantly. Alejandro and the rest were here.

She waited until the soldier’s legs were right in front of her and then slashed at his Achilles tendon with her axe. She spat as his blood sprayed into her mouth, and quickly pushed herself up to finish the man off, who was now lying on the ground, howling in pain. She kneeled into his back and lifted his head up by his chin, only to repeatedly slash at his neck with the axe until he was surely dead. She then rolled him to the side, but not before taking his walkie-talkie off his vest. She quickly established her position behind the scope, trying to find her colonel among the chaos that seemingly unfolded in the distance.

“They are running towards the waterfall, DO NOT LET THEM ESCAPE! Hassan has been secured to the new location, over.” The directions from the radio could not have come at a better time; it took her merely a few seconds to find them. She spotted Alejandro leading at the front, and right behind him, one of his soldiers followed closely. The other two, however, were strangers to her. One of them was tall and broad, with all kinds of material covering his face, and he was wearing a mask that mimicked the look of a skull. He undoubtedly would have looked like a terrifying presence up close if not for the sunglasses he wore over his mask. Behind him was a shorter but rather beefy-looking soldier who was only wearing a tight t-shirt under his vest. The most recognisable thing about him was the mohawk hairstyle he had going on. They were a rather unusual pair, that was for sure.

The sound of a sniper ripped through the air, and the next thing Romana saw was special forces soldier falling into the depths. “Fuck”, She swore before getting up and opting to take on a more mobile position instead of laying on her belly. She knew she had little to no time to find the other snipers in the area before it was too late. Whenever her scope landed on someone who would fit that role, she took her shots, taking out as many of them as she could. Looking towards the waterfall through the scope, she just managed to catch a glimpse of the soldiers jumping down to the river below.

“Shit, shit, shit….” She mumbled as she kicked her backpack off the edge to make sure that its contents would not fall into the wrong hands before sprinting towards Alejandro and his team’s direction. She needed to be on the move to keep an eye on them, and with the Mexican army nipping at their heels, this was rather hard to do. The slippery rocks under her feet were not of help either.

She was mortified when she spotted the number of armoured cars on the nearby bridge. She tried to kill as many soldiers as she could from where she was, but this did not change the fact they were outnumbered and that there would be more of them to come. She wanted nothing more than to be able to defy gravity and fly next to them and fight by their side to give them at least one more pair of hands where they were. But alas, she was not a bird, so she did what she could do and sprinted like her life depended on it. The adrenaline in her vein's made her heart beat so hard and fast that she could hear its rhythm and feel its pressure in her ear.

She came to a halt when the bridge disappeared in a cloud of fire and smoke. Only now did she notice the enormous warplane circling above her head, and she was grateful that whoever the owner of that flying monstrosity was came just in time. However, she could not help but wonder who was behind the wheel. She read through the documents that Alejandro got from Laswell several times; she did not remember any mentions of a plane or any other third parties. “I’m going to ask Ale about this later,” She thought as she raised her weapon again, trying to find her colonel. She was relieved when she saw all three of them run out from behind a rock they were using for cover and darted towards a vehicle. She watched them get in and drive away at the speed of light. They would surely be safe from now. All she needed to do now was to get out of there herself.

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It took her almost all day to get out of the mountains. Everything was swarming with the cartel and army members, so she could only proceed inch by inch, most of the time by crawling. They were on high alert for obvious reasons and no doubt had noticed that several of their snipers were dead. There were many opportunities where Romana would have had the chance to take out at least some of them, but the risk was way too significant compared to the reward. She had to leave all means of weapons behind to make less noise; the only thing she had left was the small combat axe. As good as she was with it, most of these soldiers wore body armour and helmets. One mistake, and they would yell out to each other, and the next thing she would know is that she was shot into million pieces or worse. The army had little to no respect for women, let alone one who was part of the enemy. There were worse things than death, and she was not keen on experiencing any of them…again.

It was just past midnight when she reached the special forces base. She was exhausted, so much so that she could barely slam the door closed when she entered the canteen building. She needed to eat something, and preferably fast. She knew that the ladies working the kitchen would always leave something out for her, specifically due to her sleep schedule. Just before she could reach the kitchen, a loud whistle got her attention. Her head snapped towards the direction, and she was surprised to see that it was Alejandro, Rudy, and the two mystery soldiers sitting at one of the corner tables, enjoying some food themselves. She sighed before waddling towards their direction at a slow pace. She looked awful with her still wearing the blood-soaked, dirt-stained ghillie; she would have very much preferred not to meet with Laswell’s soldiers looking like this. Too late for that now.

“Romana!” Alejandro stood up before giving her a tight hug, completely ignoring her messy look. “Glad to see you. Thanks for the assist out there.” Romana mumbled something incoherent into his chest before taking a seat next to Rudy, her eyes immediately landing on the two S.A.S soldiers.

“ Ghost, Soap, this is Romana, but you can just call her Cerberus. She is under all the ghillie if you are wondering.” Alejandro teased as he gave her a pat on the back, taking his seat as well. “My pleasure” She nodded. “My apologies for my appearance; I haven’t had the time to get out of the suit yet” Her voice was quiet, barely audible, but she hoped it was loud enough for the two soldiers to understand. She always got quiet around new people. She despised the process of getting meeting strangers. She could not recall a time when she was not anxious about it. Even when she was a child, she would hide behind her mom’s skirt instead of getting to know the other kids.

“All good. Glad to see the Mexican special forces have someone as terrifying looking as our Ghost,” Soap teased while gesturing at her. Romana could not help but notice his thick but rather attractive accent. He reached out with his hands, offering a shake, which she took. The lieutenant followed shortly; however, instead of letting go of her after, he gently twisted her arm around, revealing the blood-soaked fabric below. At first, she did not know why he would do that, but as she looked more, she realised why. The fabric was covered with fresh blood. Her blood.

While Ghost’s expression did not change after revealing the wound, the Scotsman’s did. Especially after he looked down at the table, seeing a pool of blood collecting on it. “Lass, I think you should get that checked out,” Soap said in a concerned tone.

“Fuckin’ hell.” She cursed under her breath as Ghost finally let go of her arm.

A long and deep cut was running along the bottom of her forearm; she must have cut herself with something while she was crawling around the mountains like a worm. She could not help but feel embarrassed as she took a napkin and tried to clean the table. “Yeah, I definitely need to get this checked. I’m afraid I’ll have to push the pleasantries for a later time, gentleman,” she sighed as she stood up. To her surprise, Rudy did the same. “I’ll make sure she is fine, will be back”, He quickly added before gently leading her out of the canteen.

“How did you not notice this?” He asked outside as he gently took her arm and inspected the wound himself. “I was too busy trying not to get caught. Blame the adrenaline,” She answered. “Can we just go to the medic and get it fixed? I just want to sleep at this point.” “Yes, ma’am”, Rudy nodded. “You know, Ghost scares me a little. He is awfully quiet but observant”. “That, I could tell,” Romana whispered as they quickened their steps towards medical.

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“Do you really have to cut it?” Romana sighed as she watched the medic cut the arm of the suit open. She would have to fix it later or just get a new suit, period. “I’m afraid yes. Can you hold your hand like this for me?” He asked as he positioned her hand before going around his office to gather the tools needed to sew her up. Rudy was already gone, but he promised to bring some food to her room by the time she was done. “This might sting a little” The doctor shimmied back to her side as she injected local anaesthetics into her army. “Care to explain how you get this?”

“Crawling on the ground as usual, doctor,” She said as she looked away from her arm and instead opted to observe the room. She hated watching herself be put together. “And the rest?” “What do you mean? “You know what I mean”.

She knew precisely what he meant. The few, but very much present, self-harm scars on her forearm. She always tried to make them look like battle scars, angeling them and even making them look jagged, but while she could make a fool out of a soldier, she could not fool a doctor. They were a few weeks old, too; she had no idea why he had to bring them up. So, she did not answer. The doctor would sew her up either way. Which he did, albeit in complete silence. “Keep it out of the water, and come back tomorrow for a change. And if you are struggling, you know that we have….” “I know it, alright?” She hissed as she stood up. “I’m fine, doctor. It’s a bad habit. Certainly less deadly than smoking cigs, but I bet you are not nagging the entire base for that. I’ll stop doing it eventually.”

The doctor looked at her with a tilted head and stern eyes but, in the end, yielded. He raised his hands as a sign of defeat and sat at his table to make his report. She felt guilty as she looked at the man who had just helped her. That’s how it always was with her. People would try to help, and she would snap or do something else to get them away from her. She was tired…of everything. “Thank you for the stitches, sir,” She muttered quickly before getting out of the office and heading towards her room. This endeavour took all her remaining energy away.

When she entered her room, she let out a sigh of relief. She could smell the hot food that Rudy had left on her table, and she gobbled it up like a starved beast. She did not even care what kind of food it was or how it tasted. After she was done, she quickly tossed the plate into the sink with the intent to wash it after she woke up. She practically ripped the ghillie suit off her body, tossing it carelessly to the ground, before crawling into her bed and curling up in a ball, clutching the donkey plushie that Alejandro got for her a while ago. Unlike on most nights, she managed to fall asleep quickly, but her sleep was not to be a good one.

[fierylittleniece]

[The detonator isn't working. Someone has to detonate it manually.]

No one feels right sending someone out to do it. A death sentence for the sake of the agency. The explosive would end the fight early, destroy the alien hive right at the core. The fighter drones that now swarmed Manhattan would likely collapse without access to the hivemind.

While everyone is deliberating in the conference room, a silhouette dips out of the room. Having heard everything she needed to. They needed someone disposable to do it.

I can be disposable

A new alarm joins the chorus of noise that was already filling the agency. Something has been stolen from a vault in the tech room. A pet project of a young agent that was deemed too dangerous to use on human agents. A battle suit that fits like skin but acts...alive. A symbiote.

Darren won't mind if I borrow it

Eyes check cameras, searching for something off amongst the chaos that already felt like the end of the world. Anger turns to fear when Nick's eye land on a familiar outline. His niece, barreling down the halls away from coworkers at full speed. She always was impressively fast for a human. Roxy evades pursuit, draped in white symbiotic fabric. Intercoms ring out, a voice strained between commanding and desperation. Pleading with her to come back, to reconsider. Pleas change to orders, she's never disobeyed him before. Nick feels his stomach drop as she looks directly at one of the security cameras, her eyes looking dead at him. Its a goodbye.

I want you to see what I'm truly capable of

Roxanne dives off of the edge of the Helicarrier, plummeting back towards the city she'd live in her entire life. Body spiraling past debris, in freefall. The Symbiote absorbs the fall for her, concrete cratering underneath her. Eyes glance up at the local new reporters, live on the scene of the chaos. Roxy can only smile before she takes off into the streets.

I want to make a difference. A real one

A boy pushes through coworkers at the main deck, pulling up something on one of screens. The suit was shut away for a reason. It ate away at the host. Slowly but surely. Roxanne only had about an hour before it swallowed her whole. He doesn't tell the others, simply watching the timer in agony. No matter what, she wasn't coming back. Eyes fixed on her live camera feed. Seeing her for the last time.

I want to be seen. To be heralded as a hero

She's practically flying with how fast she's running through the streets, clawing through doors. Tearing aliens away from citizens. Lifting obstacles and barricading doors to keep threats from getting in. Not an Avenger and not a normal SHIELD agent. In these few hours, Roxanne gets to be something all her own. Shiny and new, not given enough time to languish in the praise she receives in passing. She's a fast burning wick, her time limited.

And for once I can do that, even if it doesn't last

Agile beyond her normal limits. Faster than she'd ever been. Stronger than she could ever dream. Roxanne can feel the high of her wax wings as she soars towards the sun. The symbiote enjoying a prime feast of her hormones and emotions. Legs speed down corridors, up staircases. The hoard nest lies atop one of the many skyscrapers in the middle of the city. Her entire life flashes through her mind as her marathon continues. Getting closer to her destination, she can feel the pain rocketing through her. The symbiote isn't protecting her from injuries as much anymore, weakening her for her inevitable consumption. It did not matter. Roxanne's eyes scanning the hoard nest for the bomb that had failed to go off remotely. If the symbiote survived the blast, it could have her body. There is no hesitation in her movements as she lunges for the switch, the detonation immediate.

This is my swan song and you will hear me

The explosion lights up Manhattan, charred remains of the nest plummeting to the streets. The hive mind inside now useless, the alien insects absolve into husks. Ash and smoke float into the air, the Helicarrier an uproar of victory.

Only two have their gaze still fixed on the screen. Silent in grief.

[imagineepic]

Queen of Guilt: Chapter Two

Disclaimer and A/N: I don't own anything I don't own including Disney Descendants, Marvel, or Once Upon a Time. Welcome everyone to Queen of Guilt, a Disney Descendants/Avengers crossover. This is being cross posted on AO3. Please enjoy!

"You are kidding me right?” Bucky glares at his oldest friend, waiting for the punchline to the joke.

“I am in fact, not kidding. You were specifically requested for this particular security job.” Steve leans back in his chair, trying not to laugh at his best friend’s attempt to look stern.

“You are trying to convince me that someone, anyone wants the Winter Soldier as their personal bodyguard?” Bucky sinks into the chair opposite Steve, already knowing that he is going to end up caving, but wondering how long he can hold out before the punk wears him down.

“First of all, you are no longer the Winter Soldier, you are just the Soldier now… deal with it. Also the person who requested the security isn’t the one you will be protecting.” Steve thinks that this assignment will be good for Bucky, at least from what he heard from King Ben.

“An unwilling protectee… really? That’s just great. I love fighting with the people on my side. Thanks buddy, with friends like you, who needs enemies.” Bucky lets his head fall backwards and lets out a long suffering sigh.”

“First of all, we don’t know that she will be unwilling. Right now she is just unknowing. And second of all, you have a very long list of enemies, didn’t need my help creating it either. Plus half the people on your enemy list are now on your ally list.” Steve just smirks and tosses Bucky the file on Queen Evie, his new protectee.

“She’s a Queen, has magic, and it says here she is something called a VK? What is that exactly?” Bucky catches the file on reflex and skims it quickly.”

“It means that she is the daughter of a villain. Where she comes from they have VK’s - which stands for Villain Kids and AK’s - Auradon Kids, which means kids born to heroes in Auradon. Evie is the daughter of the Evil Queen.” Steve was given a brief history of Auradon when King Ben had reached out to help him understand how Evie might react.

“So you paired me up with the bad guy turned good? Think you need to keep hammering that little life lesson into me?” Bucky is already on his feet and heading for the door, the file says that Evie is set to arrive shortly and he needs to get to the UN to greet her.

“King Ben and I thought you might be the best person to help guide her, given your history. It is not about teaching you some life lesson. Oh and King Ben said she would probably hate whatever hotel they put her up in so Friday is setting up your guest room for when she inevitably stays here.” Steve ducks as Bucky throws his door handle at his head on the way out after that little tidbit of information.

Bucky suits up, in an actual suit because he doesn’t want to stand out too much at the UN and borrows one of Tony’s cars to head to the UN building to meet his new charge, wondering what exactly he is in for.

[oswildin]

Not The Same As It Was {Steven Grant x F!Reader}

Request: Steven Grant and the reader are dating. Steven doesn’t know that his girlfriend was an apprentice of Dr. Strange that fought the war in the endgame. She adores him, but she doesn’t want him to get jeopardised. But they still got together. The guilt keeps bigger and bigger every day, and one day. Steven was acting odd. He even disappeared for a few days, she tried to reconnect with him but he just disappeared. When she heard that theres a ruckus, she headed on the direction where Steven was in, she encountered a strange looking person wearing a suit. She thought it was him who caused all the ruckus and tries to fight him (slight Marc x reader} - @oyasumimosura

Warning: Slight mentions of sleep disorder/PTSD

Red italics = Marc

Blue italics = Steven

It had been a year since you experience the worst 5 years of your life. It had been a year since you helped in the battle against Thanos and witnessed death around you. It took a while for you to adjust back to ‘normal life’, after you decided you couldn’t do it anymore. Even now you were still suffering with the memories of the war. The only reason you were even involved was because you were Stephen Stranges’ apprentice, and they needed all hands on deck.

You often found yourself bolting awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and feeling panicked, remnants of the last few years flashing through your mind, seeping into your dreams. Of course, you also had a therapist. How could you not? But apart from your therapist you didn’t really have many friends, no one to really reach out to.

Until you met Steven.

You were in one of your favourite places, the library, when you met him. It was a place that helped keep you calm, help you to escape reality and focus on something else other than your own troubles. You found yourself absentmindedly waltzing down the history aisle, looking through what the place had to offer when you noticed a new promotion stand, holding a bunch of new ancient Egypt books. Raising your brow, you headed towards it, beginning to sift through the books to find one that peaked your interest. Reaching out your hand, you found one that had caught your eye, but as you grabbed it, it appeared someone else also had the same idea as you as another hand bumped into your own. You jumped, turning to see warm brown eyes staring at you.

“Oh- sorry!” The man let go of the book, bringing his hand back towards him. You noted his tired expression along with a name tag on his jacket that read ‘Steven’. “I didn’t realise you were going for the book.” He said softly, nodding towards the book that had found its way into your hand. “Good choice.” He gave a small smile.

“No worries.” You breathed out. “You can take it if you want.” You held it out to him as he looked confused for a moment, before quickly shaking his head.

“I couldn’t possibly- You had it first.” He almost stood a little awkwardly. “Besides, I probably already know the stuff that’s in it.” He shrugged lamely. “Bit of a history geek.” You gave him a small smile.

“Is that so?” You raised a brow. “Sadly, I can’t say the same. But I feel like I need something new to learn about.” You told him. “Or something to help send me to sleep.” You joked.

“Well, hopefully it does the job. Either way.” He gave you one last smile before turning to move away. However, you watched him as he seemed to pause, before turning back to you. “Sorry-“ He apologised, as you suddenly noticed the nervous tone of his voice. “I dunno if this is a bit too forward-“ He choked out. “But er-“ He scratched his head. “I dunno, what if I gave you my number?” He rushed out as you furrowed your brows at him. “Maybe I could borrow the book after you’re done with it? I don’t know, maybe that’s a lame idea-“

You quickly cut him off, nodding as you blurted out ‘yes’ before realising. Damn it. You weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was best you didn’t. Right? But as soon as you saw his eyes light up at your answer all that doubt seemed to melt away.

“Oh!” He seemed shocked. “Good.” He nodded. “Good, good, good.” He repeated as you laughed lightly at him, as you delved into your bag, searching for your phone for him to put his number into. “I don’t normally do this.” He said quietly.

“Neither do I.” You replied simply, watching as he inputted his number. “But I’m trying to do new things.” Cause my therapist told me to. “Branching out.” You instead said, soon after you spoke your phone was being taken back into your hand. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Oh, erm-“ He pointed to his name tag. “Steven.” He introduced himself. “Steven with the v.” You gave him a smile. Adorable. Absolutely adorable.

No. No. No. You’re just doing this to get your therapist off your back.

“Nice to meet you, Steven with the v.”

And that’s how it had started. In a library. The next time you saw him it was that the museum he worked at, as you had kept your end of the deal and wanted to let him borrow the book. So, you had arranged to drop it off to him. You’d sent a few texts back and forth but nothing too in depth. It seemed to you Steven was also a bit of a loner. You approached the giftshop, as Steven had told you that’s the department he worked at, and sure enough you could see him at the shops counter, looking like he was zoned out. You walked towards the shop.

“Excuse me, do you sell life size sarcophagus’?” You asked, as Steven finally noticed you were approaching, a confused look on his face at your question. “I’m thinking of redecorating, and beds are so 2022. I’m looking for something more 2686 BCE.” You joked as he finally seemed to get your drift as he let out a chuckle of his own.

“Sadly, we don’t I’m afraid.” He faked disappointment. “But, you can put in a request, I’m sure they will consider it.” He leant against the counter as you stood in front of him. “I can see it being a popular seller along with our very on brand jelly sweets.” He said the last few words with distaste as he gestured to the bags of sweets that sat on the counter.

“That’s disappointing. I will have to take my decor business else where.” You smirked, before moving to reach into your bag as you pulled out the book you had promised to give to him. “But, I suppose I should leave this with you before I go.” His smile faltered slightly at your words. He took the book from you gently as he muttered a ‘cheers’.

“How was it?” He asked, raising a curious brow.

“It was ok. I mean I learnt from it. Don’t know how much I retained though.” You admitted. “To be honest I just liked the pictures.” You joked.

“Well, as much as I love books, it’s not quite the same as learning on a tour.” He said softly, peering down at the book before an idea popped into his mind. “Are you busy?” He looked up at you, a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Well, I was going to go to another museum to see if they stocked any sarcophagus’-“ You paused, fawning a look of thought. “But I suppose I could do that tomorrow.” He pointed at you, almost excitedly.

“I’m going to give you a tour.” He walked round from behind the counter, leaving the book on it, as you pursed your lips at him. “Bring the history to life as they say.” He stood in front of you, watching as you couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay.” You agreed. “You’ve convinced me. Teach me about ancient Egypt.”

As you walked around the exhibits with Steven, he became very animated in his body and facial expressions. Something you couldn’t help but smile at. He really did have a passion for it.

“Oh! And of course, can’t forget!” He exclaimed, pushing you gently in the right direction, his hand on your back. You could’ve melted right there. “The pyramids of Giza!” He stopped you both at a replica model of some pyramids. “And no, there’s no correlation between ‘geezer’-“ He put on a thicker accent on the word, making you chuckle. “And Giza.” He finished. “They were royal tombs built for three different pharaohs. The northernmost and oldest pyramid of the group-“ He pointed to one, his body leaning towards your own as he pointed it out to you. “-was built for Khufu, the second king of the 4th dynasty, it’s called the Great Pyramid.” He finished as his head turned towards you, as you hadn’t realised you’d in fact been looking at him this whole time and not what he was pointing at. You both felt your cheeks grow warm as he cleared his throat, taking a small step away from you, clearly self conscious that he had gotten so close and so excited about what he was talking about. “Sorry.” He breathed out. “Sometimes I get a bit too into it.” You shook your head at him.

“Don’t be silly.” You paused. “It’s endearing. It’s nice to see someone who’s passionate about something.” You admitted as he felt his lip twitch upwards slightly. “And you’re right, tours are a much better way to learn.”

“Would you like to get dinner?”

You were surprised at his sudden question as it seemed to appear out of the blue. You looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Of course you wanted to get dinner. How could you not? He was attractive, intelligent, sweet and kind.

“It’s ok, if you don’t.” He obviously picked up on your unsureness. “Completely understandable-“ His shoulder began to slump slightly as you felt your heart ache at the sight.

“I’d love to.”

His head snapped back up to you as you had already spoken before even realising. You had to stop doing that.

“Really?” He raised a brow, seemingly bewildered by your response.

“Of course. You’re a nice guy Steven. I’d be stupid not to say yes.”

And that’s how you ended up here. Going against everything your brain was yelling at you.

He’s going to get hurt.

You can’t allow yourself to get close to anyone!

You haven’t even told him the truth yet.

You were sat in his flat, on the sofa, your head laying on his shoulder as a blanket was thrown over you both as you watched TV.

Too late for that now brain.

“I wonder what Gus likes to watch.” Steven blurted out as you laughed. “Eh? What do you want on?” He looked back at Gus who was happily swimming around in his tank. He began to flip the channels. “Bit of reality TV? Na,-“ Flip. “Cooking show?”

“And that’s how you make a good old fashioned fish ca-“

“Maybe not.” He quickly flipped the channel as you laughed. Steven was funny. Whether he realised it or not, he had a very good sense of humour. Probably without realising it. “Oh! A film.” Suddenly the jaws theme sounded through the flat as you couldn’t help but laugh at the shock on Steven’s face. “Oh, sorry Gus.” He switched the TV off. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much TV for fishies.”

“I don’t think fish were their target market when they made TVs.” You commented as he hummed in agreement, you pushed yourself off his shoulder as he looked at you, missing the warm of your body. Those big brown eyes.

God. How could you let this happen?

You didn’t care. You leant forwards, allowing your lips to crash with his own. Even after a few months of dating, he would still get flustered and surprised when you kissed him. Eventually, he would settle into it, allowing his hands to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer. He made you feel like the most important person in the world. In the universe even.

He’d told you about his sleeping disorder. And of course, you were very understanding, considering you yourself had your own sleep issues. On occasion, he would be late for a date or even sometimes miss it completely, but he would always immediately ring you and apologise profusely and make it up to you. In any other situation, you would feel something was wrong. That perhaps he wasn’t happy or was in fact doing things behind your back, but Steven wasn’t like that. At all. And you knew that.

Pulling away, you stared at him deeply as he moved his hand to move a strand of hair out of your face.

“Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.” He told you in a whisper as you gave him a smile.

“Unfortunately for you, I am.” You joked as he shook his head.

“No, no.” He almost whined out. “Luckily for me.” He corrected you. “Stay.” He paused. “Please.” You nodded, kissing his forehead gently as you both moved, much to your comforts disappointment. However, as soon as you made it to the bed, your comfort flowed back into your bones as you laid with him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as you leaned into his warmth. Soon, you found yourself kissing him once again, but this time it began to become more filled with passion and intent.

“Gus- Time to go to sleep.” He muttered over his shoulder at the fish, who seemingly was swimming around oblivious to what his owner was implying as you laughed at his words.

A week later, you appeared at Steven’s apartment fairly late after a late impromptu therapy session. You’d had a nightmare, and it had triggered you to call your therapist and explore it. It was about Steven. He had gotten hurt because of you. And as much as your guilt was eating you alive from the inside, you needed him. He was the only constant in your life, and you didn’t want to give him up. Plus, your therapist had insisted you told him everything. Be honest. Maybe it would help ease your conscience.

Knocking at his door, you heard a slight shuffle, before it opened, revealing Steven who looked confused at you being at his flat so late.

“Hey-“ You breathed out. “Can I come in?” You thought it was odd he hadn’t immediately stepped aside to let you in. You’d never have to ask. He finally stepped aside, letting you in. You peered at him, feeling weird under his gaze. It didn’t quite feel how it usually did. When he looked at you, it wasn’t like he was looking at his whole world. It was as though he was looking at an acquaintance. Maybe he was sleep walking? “You ok?” You asked as the door closed behind you. Steven nodded simply in response. “Erm, can we talk?” You asked, as he stated at you in silence. “It’s nothing bad.” You reassured him, as you knew he would immediately panic… At least he normally would.

You found yourself telling him everything. You opened up, admitting your past, telling him your fears. The whole time he just sat and listened. There was no comfort. Or even acknowledgement. You turned to him, furrowing your brows.

“What’s wrong? Is it what I’ve said?” You worried, fearing you had scared him off. You’d just told him you’d been in battle, you’ve killed… You had to. But he just stared before sighing, putting his face in his hand for a moment. “Oh, god it is isn’t it?” You felt panic rising in your chest. Before you could become upset he finally spoke.

“No.” His voice was different, lower in tone, more rough around the edges and had a slight American twang. It was as if he was trying to put on a British accent instead of naturally talking with it. “It’s not that.” He paused, turning to look at you. “I just want the best for you.” He said, and you couldn’t tell if it was sincere or not. “You don’t deserve that pain.” You didn’t know what was going on, but you needed those words. “Nothing will happen, I promise. You’ll be safe. And so will I.” He promised as you nodded slowly. He couldn’t promise that, not really, as far as you knew. But you accepted it. You didn’t have the energy to argue. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll join you in a bit.”

You found your feet answering for you as you dragged yourself towards his bed. It felt empty and cold without him next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to sleep, but struggled as you drifting in and out. You didn’t know how long it had been, but eventually the space next to you became full, as you felt a pressure indent the mattress. You instinctively turned, wrapping an arm around the body next to you, as you shuffled closer, feeling the warmth flooding the bed.

When Steven woke up, he was surprised to feel someone next to him. He furrowed his brows, opening his eyes as he peered over, seeing you fast asleep in your usual position when you stayed the night.

When did you get there? Did you stay the night? Why didn’t he remember?

He felt that familiar feeling of dread filling his mind as he realised he’d clearly done it again. Slept walk.

That was the first instance of weirdness from Steven. After that it had become more of a recent trend with him. More instances of him supposedly ‘sleep walking’. You had begun to grow concerned over the frequency of it, suggesting he spoke to someone about it. The weirdest part about that night is he didn’t remember anything you had told him, making your guilty conscience grow further.

The latest instance of Steven’s odd behaviour was you hadn’t heard from him in three days. You even visited his flat, with no answer. Your anxiety grew with every hour of the days, as you even camped out outside his flat overnight one of the days, just hoping he would appear.

You decided to head to his flat once again, just praying he would show up or there’d be a sign he had been there. As you got out the lift, you could hear noises coming from down the hall. You furrowed your brows, quickly approaching his flat door as you listened hearing a commotion from inside.

Shit.

This was your fault.

Who was in there? What did they know? Had they hurt Steven?

You didn’t hesitate as you used all your strength to kick down the door. You’d apologise to Steven about it later. If he was ok. As the door flew open, you entered to see a masked figure all in white staring at you, wide eyed. Well from what you could decipher from the mask at least. He was in a white suit, and stood in the middle of the flat. Before the person could speak, you used your powers to throw him backwards as his back hit the wall, causing him to groan in pain.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You exclaimed, storming over to him. The figure laid on the floor, pushing themselves up slowly as they tried to hold out a hand as if to say ‘stop’. You once more used your powers to throw him across the flat, causing him to fly into the side of the fridge that sat in the kitchen, causing a loud bang as his back came into contact with it.

Damn Steven. Your girl is beating your ass right now.

“Shut up!” You heard the person hiss as you narrowed your eyes, moving to stand over him, hands up as you conjured your magic, trying to look as threatening as possible.

“Where’s Steven?” You asked, anger lacing your voice. “What have you done to him?”

“I-it’s me.” He wheezed out, barely audible as you almost growled in annoyance, getting ready to make another move but suddenly the suit seemed to shimmer away, along with the mask as you saw…

“Steven?” You breathed out, breathing heavily.

“Hello.” He gave you a small wave, still trying to recover from your blows.

“Oh my-“ You cut yourself off, dropping your hands as you knelt in front of him, grabbing his face in your hands. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were a bad guy.” You rushed out, shaking your head.

“Nope. Not a bad guy.” He held his chest as you immediately felt sorry. “Where did that come from?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. “W-with the-“ He imitated your hand movement as you looked at him sheepishly.

You’d eventually helped him up, laying him on the sofa as you grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, handing them to him as he placed them on his chest.

“So…” He awkwardly began. “My girlfriend’s a wizard.” He breathed out as you shook your head.

“Not a wizard.” You told him, moving his legs up to sit down before placing them down onto your lap. “And anyway, you’re one to talk.” You huffed. “What are you? Coronal Sanders?”

Told you.

“It’s kinda a weird one.” He sighed. “Been trying to work it out myself.” You both sat in silence for a few minutes, both of you trying to wrap your heads around your current situation.

“Sorry Gus.” Steven finally spoke again, looking over at the tank, seeing his fish swimming around. “We didn’t mean to scare you.” You couldn’t help but let a small smile fall onto your lips. “Sometimes mummies and daddies fight, but doesn’t mean they don’t still love each other.” You shook your head at his antics, knowing he was using humour to dissolve the tension.

“I thought you were dead.” You said outright as he stated at you, apologetic eyes. “I thought I’d got you killed.” He groaned as he slowly sat up, his legs falling back to the ground as he sat upright.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I never meant to scare you, or worry you or- or- or even leave you as long as I did.” He sighed. “It wasn’t my choice.” He quickly glanced at his reflection in a nearby picture frame as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? Is someone making you do this?” You asked, leaning forwards, protectiveness in your stance.

“Sort of.” He slumped his shoulders. “I’ll start from the beginning…”

Steven told you everything. About Marc, Khonshu, the scarab… The creatures he’d seen and fought. You sat and listened intently, trying to understand his stumbling words.

“So, that night… I came to you and told you about all… well, this-“ You gestured to yourself. “It wasn’t you.” You realised as he nodded. “It was Marc…” You stated as he nodded again.

“You apparently weren’t supposed to see him.” He told you. “He’s tried to stay away when you’re around.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want you involved.” He told you softly. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt I guess.” He shrugged.

I wanted a normal life for you Steven. I told you not to go looking.

“Yes I know.” Steven sighed, as you realised he was looking at his reflection again, seemingly talking to Marc.

We need to keep going. We need to finish the mission, then you can go back to your little life you’ve made for yourself. And no. She can’t come.

“Steven, it’s ok.” You put a hand on his arm. “Look I understand this, more than most.” You let out a breathy laugh. “Not all of it… But I understand. And Marc, I also get it.” You said as you stared at Steven in the eyes. “But if you get Steven hurt, or even dead… I’ll never forgive you.” You told him seriously as Steven felt a chill run up his spine at your words. You stood up, going to grab your jacket as you turned your back to him.

“If he dies, I die also.” You heard a familiar voice answer, but this time there was no faking a British accent. You paused, turning to see Steven… Well, Marc. He wore the same stony gaze he had last time you encountered him. “So trust me when I say, I don’t want that to happen.”

“Yeah, but Steven isn’t like us.” You told him. “Steven isn’t used to this life.” He looked down for a moment. “It’s all we’ve known. The fighting, the loss, the pain… It isn’t fair to put him through it.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He snapped, seemingly exhausted having to already have dealt with Steven’s arguing. “Do you think I want this life? What about what I want!” You sighed at the man, taking a step back towards him as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Sadly, we can’t choose what kind of life we live.” You said softly. “But you can help Steven. You can help him have a normal life. And through him… Maybe you could too.” His eyes softened at your words as he closed them for a second, letting a breath out.

“That’s why I’m doing this.” He said gruffly. “As soon as I’ve done this mission, the deal is off with Khonshu. Then we’re all safe.” You furrowed your brows at his words.

“What do you mean? We’re all safe?” You repeated his words to him as he gave you a hard stare. He was hiding something. Something from you and Steven. It was clear now. “Tell me.” He bit his lip, his jaw tensing.

“Khonshu has his eye on another for his next avatar.” He admitted as you listened. “Unless I complete this mission he will go ahead and use them. Make them his next subject.”

(Y/N)…

“Yes.” Marc muttered, clearly not to you. “We need to do this for her.” You didn’t know what was happening, but as soon as Marc had appeared, he was gone, Steven back in his place, with a new look of worry etched onto his face.

“I get that you’re worried.” Steven told you, walking to you as he grabbed your hand, clasping it in his own. “So am I.” He paused. “In fact that’s a lie. I’m scared shitless.” He let out a breathy laugh as you looked up at him. “But I have to do this. Then we can be together. Properly. And I can make sure we have the best, most boring life-“ He joked as you laughed.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” You teased as he gave you a small watery smile.

“I love you.”

You froze.

Did he just?

Wow Steven, didn’t know you had it in you.

“I love you too, you big idiot.”

[mediocre-daydreams]

congrats on 100 followers!! i love ur writing so much and u 100% deserve it!

i feel like

“you flinched” + “are you afraid of me?”

with tasm!peter or any marauder you write for :)

angst with happy ending because i’m angsty but not that angsty y’know :/

-🌞

hellooo 🌞!! i'm so so touched by your message; every time i hear stuff like this my heart just melts. i did something quick for this one; hopefully the ending is happy enough for you. i was lowkey sad when writing this, but i just kept telling myself "you're his shot of espresso, you're sunshine," etc etc and even though angst comes concerningly easy to me, i'm determined to produce something fluffy in the future!!

i know you'd never

pairing: tasm! peter parker x gn! reader

warnings: arguing, angst and asshole peter (temporarily), hints to bad parent-child relationship, swears

w/c: 1.8k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you even listening to me?” peter scoffed, running his hands through his hair and tugging hard. it was a habit he’d picked up recently; being spiderman was growing more time-consuming and juggling school, his social life, and his superhero responsibility was leaving peter irritable and exhausted.

you nodded aggressively to place emphasis on your response. you didn’t feel like fighting today. *not that you felt like fighting with peter ever.) today had been particularly rough—you’d already quarreled with harry during english when you’d clashed over character interpretation and fussed over mary jane’s boyfriend when he’d made her cry in the bathroom.

“i- i’m sorry. yes, i’m listening,” you gulped, scratching your hands anxiously as you tried your best to maintain eye contact with peter.

 you could feel yourself shrink as the apparent power imbalance intimidated you into breaking the eye contact you had been fighting for. you were sitting timidly on the corner of peter’s bed while he was standing and looking down at you, upset.

“then why the fuck did you- god, you knew my showing was next week! i’d told you about my schedule too! so why. have you lost. my camera?” peter seethed pacing back and forth in his room.

“i’m sorry! obviously, i didn’t mean it! i don’t know what you want me to do; if i knew where it was, i’d give it to you!” you defended yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. as much as you didn’t have it in you to fight, you’d never been the type to let yourself be demeaned or attacked.

“well, i have a right to be angry! i let you fucking borrow the most important thing i have because you wanted to take pictures of your stupid fucking friends, and now my camera is gone. i have the darkroom booked for tomorrow and i don’t have any goddamn pictures to develop. do you know how hard it was to find an opening?”

you lept to your feet, sick of peter’s unwarranted disrespect. “don’t talk to me that way!” you threw your hands in the air in exasperation with a loud huff.

peter narrowed his eyes at you, examining your face, eerily quiet. you stared right back at him, challenging him to try and continue yelling at you.

instead, peter began to stalk forward, slowly, like a silent panther creeping towards its prey. you tilted your head, unfamiliar with this certain movement. you imagined it might be something peter did while donning his spiderman suit. now he was using it on you.

with each step peter took forward, you stepped back. it was a game of cat and mouse, and you were the rodent obviously losing. when you bumped into the foot of the bed, your knees buckled and you stumbled forward into peter’s chest. he took you by the shoulders and your eyes widened from the unexpected force.

“p-peter?” you choked, eyes flickering between peter’s fuming ones. “peter, let go of me,” you whimpered, mind taking you to darker places you’d never wanted to associate peter with. 

you’d had enough fighting in your life. parents, friends, people you’d trusted, and internal battles that’d taken years to overcome. you were tired. you hated yourself for being the reason that you and peter were fighting; you two rarely fought.

peter closed his eyes, jaw clenching. when he opened them, he let out a long, shaky exhale to calm himself down. but stepping back, the claw-like grip of his fingers on your shoulders releasing, didn’t stop him from jutting an accusatory finger out at you.

“you. you- i don’t know what you’re doing here. bold of you to run off to mine just because you aren’t getting along with daddy and mommy. you can’t just… use me like that. i’m not your therapist, or someone you can take advantage of and use their stuff, or an endless supply of forgiveness. i’m- jesus christ, you make me so fucking mad somet-”

you flinched. hard. the last thing you wanted to do was show even more vulnerability or make peter feel like he’d had some sort of effect over you, but you couldn’t control it. try as you might, you’d never been confrontational. you’d never even been good at pretending to be.

your voice cracked as you apologized for flinching, citing it as a gut reaction and nothing that peter himself had triggered. peter knew better, however.

“i- oh my god, i’m so- shit. shit, shit, shit.” the anger dissipated off peter’s face in a heartbeat, his outraged expression melting into one of shame and concern. he moved to touch you, which was his and your to-go way of comforting each other, but hesitated midair. it broke his heart to realize that his touch, the one thing you’d always trusted to keep you safe, was now the thing you feared.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands.

“no- baby, look at me. please,” he begged, voice wavering in a way you hadn’t heard since the last time you and he visited his uncle ben’s grave. your heart fell to your feet and managed to shatter into pieces on his carpeted bedroom floor.

“i’m the one who should be sorry,” he sniffed. cautiously, you peeked through your fingers and saw a regretful face before you, nose tinged pink. “i didn’t mean- god, i’m-” he stuttered, rubbing his eyes furiously. you were afraid he might rip out a few eyelashes.

“are you scared of me?” he whispered, so terrified that it almost sounded like a whimper. that did it for you. you’d never heard peter make a sound like that before.

your hands dropped from your face and slowly found a place on peter’s forearms. you took a steeling breath before forcing yourself to lock your eyes with his once more, something you’d been struggling to do this entire time.

“i- i’m not scared of you. i know you’d never…” you sighed, feeling a flash of guilt as you remembered how you’d compared peter to a predator only moments before. he was never predatory. he was the one person in the world you trusted most.

“i’d never hurt you,” peter finished. “i’d do anything to make sure you never got hurt. that nobody hurt you, and that i’d never hurt you. purposely or accidentally or physically or- or emotionally, or, um, spiritually,” he blabbered, eyes darting across your face to search for signs, anything, that revealed even a hint of discomfort from you. he found nothing.

“i know,” you whispered, your gaze still locked firmly on him. “i’m sorry.”

peter squeezed his eyes shut. “don’t apologize,” he said after a long pause. “you’ve been apologizing this whole time. i should be the one apologizing. i yelled at you, and then i made you scared, and that’s my fault. i was the one who made you scared, so you shouldn’t apologize for being scared,” he insisted, his hand slowly—and finally—creeping up to cup your cheek.

you shivered slightly at his touch but leaned into it, craving the contradictory feeling of comfort and distress that his hand was bringing you.

“i had no right- nothing i said to you was okay.” peter sighed, looking anywhere but you. you continued to examine his face in worry. (for yourself or for him, you weren’t sure.)

“i’ve been so overwhelmed with school and spiderman and… other things, and i took it out on the one person who’s been by my side the entire time, supporting me, and that was so stupid of me, and i’m so, so sorry.” he stifled a groan. “and none of that was fair to you. you deserved nothing from the way i treated you. everything i said… it was all wrong. i don’t really believe any of that,” he reassured you.

peter felt a warm presence sink into the palm of his hand. it was a single tear. you’d lost control of the silent emotions that’d been heating in your face the entire time, and slow signs of hurt were beginning to leak from your eyes.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love. i’m so-” he choked out a laugh. “i’m so stupid sometimes and god, i’m the luckiest man in the world to have someone continue to stick around every time i fuck up, and you,” he punctuated his next words with butterfly kisses to the tip of your nose, “are the most generous of all.”

you broke from your trance, finding it in yourself to giggle softly, much to your and peter’s surprise. you’d never let anybody talk to you like this for no reason, much less peter, but you’d never hold a grudge against someone who was genuinely remorseful, especially peter.

he pulled away from you and you couldn’t tell if you wanted him to leave or not. he sat a couple of inches next to you on the mattress.

“y’know, the reason i was so freaked was because i actually… the film was pictures of you,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his feet. “and i freaked at you because i thought you wouldn’t get to see you which is so dumb and-”

you smiled wobbily. peter felt a soft set of lips press against his effectively silencing him. it was a quick, chaste kiss, one that peter honestly did not deserve, but he’d always loved you for your generosity. now was one of those moments.

“we all do stupid things,” you sighed, “like me losing your camera. but i swear, i’ll find it. or i’ll at least help you. and the fact that you took- you did your project with pictures of me, god, i’ll never be able to understand that.”

you rose, presumably to search around his room for the camera, before peter grabbed your hand more delicately than usual and looked up at you this time, pleadingly. you quirked your head in question.

“i don’t need my camera right now,” he practically whined. “i love the thing, but not nearly as much as i love you. please, let me help you understand. let me help you understand why i want to photograph you. why i want to immortalize you and remember you forever and let everyone see you the way i see you, like art.”

you melted simply from the way his fingers threaded themselves between yours like they were crafted just to hold your hand. you nodded.

when peter pulled you to his chest and peppered your face with kisses, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch this time, instead of pulling away. peter had always been your comfort, your home, your protection. he’d loved you for a year and he’d promised he’d love you for more. the fear that jolted through you for just a second was only momentary. his love for you was lasting, or in his words, immortalized in film.

you trusted peter enough to forgive him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

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[dark-frosted-heart]

2nd Anniversary Event - More Love with the Beast - Keith (sweet end)

Keith comments on how dangerous that was. Had it hit, there would have been more than a scratch. MC has goosebumps despite his friendly tone. She feels nothing but dread running through her. Keith tells her to hold on if she doesn't want to get thrown off. MC can only nod. Alter!Keith walks toward the thugs and his beastly eyes make them cower in fear. From that moment, the fight became completely one-sided. One gets hit in the stomach, another in the back. The third gets hit by the liquor bottle. Alter!Keith taking care of these thugs with ease brings back a memory of him threatening a noble during their fake date. MC can't help but feel confused at the Keith that was completely different than usual.

While the thugs run away, one is stopped by Keith, the one who had initially thrown the bottle. Alter!Keith won't be letting him go yet, he'll be getting payback until he's satisfied. The anger he radiates terrifies everyone else. As Alter!Keith's about to stomp on the thug that's crawling away, MC shouts "that's enough!" With all the strength she can muster, she pulls him back by his clothes and his foot lands just beside the thug. He gets up and runs away in fear.

Alter!Keith mutters about the guy begging for his life in the end. He looks down at MC and in a gentle voice, asks if she's hurt. He sets her down and checks her for any injury, paying particular attention to her arms. Seeing that there isn't a scratch on her, he's relieved. MC understands why he was angry, since the bottle had almost hit her. She shivers as she remembers his beast-like eyes. Again, he feels so different from the usual Keith.

MC then notices the guy the thugs had been threatening earlier. She was about to approach him when Keith stops her and reminds her of the cat. At the moment, MC couldn't understand why he was saying this but Keith just pulls her past the guy. She stops him. To her, the Keith she knew was kind to a fault and always helped those in need. The reason they even got into the fight earlier in the first place was to help the guy that was currently sitting on the ground. If the thugs are gone, is that it? They've helped the guy already? The usual Keith would have immediately checked on the guy. She wonders if she's being selfish. MC tries to find words while Keith looks at the man. He tells her that the man's fine, just unconscious. He'll probably wake up soon. MC exclaims that they can't just him lying there. His eyes waver for a moment before he smiles and agrees. He explains that he was too focused on getting the key back and apologizes for acting in a way that confused her. MC in turn apologizes for the things she had said when he's been the one protecting her.

The guy soon regained consciousness and according to him, he had fainted from surprise when the fight started. He thanks them and rushes off.

MC and Keith continue going around the town, looking for the cat. Yet it was nowhere in sight. Not even at a spot that cats often hung around. Meanwhile, the gifts Keith had bought for his sister were still at the store. Maybe it was better to give up, MC thought. There was still the handcuffs and she'd rather not break it even though there was no spare key. Keith asks if he could borrow her hair pin. She's confused but hands it to him anyway. Keith inserts the pin into the keyhole and after a few jiggles, the cuff comes off. It was surprisingly easy, Keith says. He explains that Clavis had taught him how to pick locks. MC's shoulders relax in relief and Keith calls out to her. For some reason, he was starting at her with a big smile and she has a bad feeling about it. He tells MC that it's her turn now. She holds out her hand and with a familiar click reaches her ears. He's cuffed both of her wrists. Her bad feeling came true. Keith say's it's done. What's done? He tells her that the cuffs suit her and she thanks him in confusion. Was this something she should be happy about? He was just playing with her right? Keith just continues to smile at her and then asks if she wants them removed. Of course she does, she says. Then, he starts, will she do him a favor? While his tone was gentle, it looked as if there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Premium end

[jameui]

MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Heather ~ YJN [Request]

���WORD COUNT: 3.7K

⤜PAIRING: Jeongin x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: angst, LITERALLY NO FLUFF, SAD ending, major character death, mentions of car accidents so please don’t read if you’re not comfortable your mental health comes first my loves x

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2022

⤜ MASTERLIST

The music started and you stared forward, flowers clutched tightly in your hand as you smiled over at Jeongin who was already staring down in your direction. With the biggest smile on his face that you had ever seen him give to somebody, ever. Everything was happening so quickly around you but you felt as though time had stood still, your eyes glued to your best friend as you smiled brightly over at him admiring the way that he looked.

You'd never really seen him dressed like this before besides for award shows and you could have sworn your breath caught in your throat as you took every small step toward him. The giant aisle made it feel as though he was miles and miles away from you, each step feeling like it took a million hours to get to him. There he was dressed up in a black suit and tie, a rose to match the ones that were inside of your bouquet, the one you were clutching so tightly you thought it would fall apart in your hands. 

A small squeeze from Chan bought you back down to reality as you continued to smile staring straight ahead, Chan giving you small squeezes of encouragement whenever he could feel you slipping away. 

As you kept walking you couldn't believe the way Jeongin looked as you continued to inch toward him, heart getting faster as you felt the eyes of everyone inside of the church turning to Jeongin. You did your best to focus on Jeongin and how great he looked in his suit. But He was Jeongin, Of course, he looked good. Jeongin looked good in everything in your opinion. Even if he walked around in nothing but sweats and a baggy shirt you were sure he would still look just as good as he did right now. 

As you finally reached the bottom of the aisle Chan let go of you, your life ring was suddenly gone leaving you fighting for life as you gave him a small look of panic. Chan had been your entire lifeline for the last week and suddenly not having him right beside you felt as though you were going to break apart. This whole week he had been calling to check up on you, doing his best to make sure you were truly okay with everything that was going to happen. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable since all of this was happening because of him, well kind of. 

You moved to the left side and looked at Jeongin but he wasn't looking at you anymore. Instead, his eyes were already caught on Heather who was walking down the same aisle you had been walking down with Chan. 

Jeongin was completely mesmerized by Heather and you could feel yourself wanting to curl up into a tight ball but instead, your eyes found Chan. Even from across the way he was giving you small looks of encouragement, doing his best to keep you from breaking down in front of everyone. But how could you not? You could still remember all of this happening as if it was only yesterday.

Jeongin laughed as you sat beside him, looking over at the TV doing your best to try and beat Seungmin at the game of Super Smash Bro's you were doing. You'd stolen the controller from Jeongin as you couldn't stand to see him losing again for the tenth time in a row. 

"What date it is?!" Chan could be heard desperately calling from the kitchen, he was no doubt working on yet another song and just wanted to add it to the spreadsheet you and he had created together. It wasn't anything much it was just something to keep track of all of the songs and albums he had been making and when he had made them. 

"Third of December," Changbin mumbled as he tried to keep his concentration on the screen, all of them watching you kick Seungmin's arse for once since it always seemed like they lost against him.

"Innie? Can I borrow a jumper?" You question innocently as the game came to an end and you were displayed as the victor in that round. 

"Sure? Which one this time?" He teased as he headed off into his bedroom to grab one of the many hoodies that you always seemed to steal from him.

You and Jeongin had been friends since you could remember, every time he came home to Busan you were there waiting for him at the train station with a giant sign with his name on it. That was all until you moved to Seoul for your job and to be closer to your best friend, now you lived less than a five-minute walk away from him at the boys at all times. 

"You suck at this game," You teased as Jeongin came back over to you with a black hoodie throwing it into your face as you whined at him, sliding it on over your shirt. 

"You're so mean to me," You pouted fakely, giving the controller to Felix who was going up against Minho this time. The nine of you always tried to hang out like this on the weekends if you could but Jeongin had started getting busier with other things lately. Becoming secretive with everyone beside's chan. 

"Hey, Heather is on her way up," Chan called out as he stared down at his phone. Heather. You'd heard her name mentioned a couple of times but you'd never really spoken or heard the boys speak about her much. All you knew was she was someone that worked closely with the boys. 

"You look good in my sweater," Jeongin said suddenly interrupting you from your small daydream and making you smile. It wasn't until now that you realised just how close you were sitting to one another, your faces inches away from each other. Your heart raced as you thought about kissing him.

Just throwing caution to the wind and finally confessing your feelings for Jeongin but your part of you didn't want to ruin the bond that you had with him. 

"Shut up," You laughed pushing him away by his shoulder but he shook his head at you,

"I'm serious, it looks better on you than it does me. You should keep it." Your heart fluttered at the idea of keeping something of his, something that smelled like him and you nodded. A little stunned on what to say to him when the door opened to the dorms.

Glancing over at it you were completely shocked as the most beautiful girl seemed to walk into the dorms, kicking off her shoes and greeting Chan in the tightest hug. It warmed your heart to see Chan hug her back just as tight but then she glanced over at you and Jeongin and waved. 

"Innie!" She cried out his nickname and you felt your heart shatter. Instantly Jeongin was on his feet practically racing toward her as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, bringing her as close to his body as he possibly could. 

"That's Heather," Hyunjin whispered as he took Jeongin's spot beside you, filling you in on something you had so clearly missed. 

"We think they've been dating for a while," You nodded along with everything he was saying to you. Your eyes staring at Jeongin as you saw the way his eyes lit up around her, glued to her the entire time. Heather had him completely mesmerized while a part of you felt as though it was dying on the inside. 

How could you have ever been so stupid to think he would ever like you back? You weren't even half as pretty as Heather was, she had everyone's eyes on her. It was clear that they all seemed to find her just as stunning as Jeongin did, maybe even jealous that Jeongin was the one to capture her heart.

"Here," Jeongin slipped off the polyester jumper and handed it to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and smiling brightly at her. The longer you watched the two of them together the more you could feel yourself growing colder despite being wrapped up. 

Part of you wanted to hate Heather for taking Jeongin away from you...But she hadn't. You had never told Jeongin how you felt towards him. You hadn't told another living soul that you seemed to have a big crush on your best friend.

Besides as she began talking to each of the guys you realised she seemed so sweet and kind. 

"Heather, this is Yn...My best friend." Jeongin introduced you both and you smiled at her, doing your best to seem as though you were happy to see her standing there. 

"Innie told me so much about you! I just know we're going to be the best of friends!" She seemed so happy and bubbly as she wrapped her arms around you, hugging you almost as tight as she had held Chan. 

"What are you guys playing?!" She questioned as she turned her attention to the screen, both her and Jeongin sitting down together as he held her close to him.

"You introduced them?" You asked curiously as you and Chan sat down in the kitchen together, he was asking for help on how to add another aspect to his excel sheet but your mind was in other places. Ever since Heather had arrived at the dorms Jeongin's attention had been on her, his arm around her shoulder and keeping her close to him. She'd done everything she could to be nice to you, both of you speaking for hours as she tried to get to know you but you didn't want to know her. You wanted desperately to hate the girl that had stolen Jeongin's heart but she was an angel the perfect girl for your best friend. 

"Yeah, she's a friend and when she came to JYP I introduced her," Chan said absently his eyes glued to his laptop screen as he began to ask you questions again but that was when he realised it. Your attention wasn't on him or his screen but over at Jeongin and Heather and it was as if he could read what was going on inside of you, 

"She's sweet...They're good together," You hummed turning back to his laptop screen as you added a section for a drop-down box. That way he could add if the song had been turned into an skz-Player or added to an album.

"There, now you'll know." You smiled as your eyes went straight back over to Jeongin, your stomach sinking as you watched him bring Heather onto his lap laughing loudly at something she had said. 

You wished you were Heather since Jeongin liked her better than you. Since that day he had announced that he was dating Heather, you had felt yourself being pushed out more and more, finally being left in the cold with only yourself as comfort. Though only part of that was true. Jeongin hadn't been the one to push you out and neither had Heather, you'd done most of it to yourself. Not being able to stand watching them fall harder and harder in love with one another so you didn't. You pushed yourself into your work, becoming busier so you didn't have to watch them together anymore.

Only hanging out when you dearly missed your best friend or you didn't have a good enough excuse not to go around anymore. 

"If anybody here objects, please speak now or forever hold your peace." There it was, your only chance to step forward and tell Jeongin how you were feeling for him. For a brief second your eyes landed on Chan who could already see what you were thinking and he was shaking his head at you. Desperate to try and get you not to do this, not in front of everyone this way. 

"Yn?" Jeongin questioned as he noticed you had stepped forward, gasps emanating from the entire church hall as everyone stared at you. The worse thing was you hadn't even felt yourself move and now everyone was staring at you, waiting for you to speak but you couldn't.

"Sorry...I just-I needed to move my leg." You lied stepping back as you heard Jeongin's parents let out relieved sighs but you stared at Jeongin once again. 

"I object!" You spoke clearly this time as Chan stared at you, a scared look spread across his face as he knew what you were about to do. The two of you had spoken about it the other night when you were almost blackout drunk on Soju. It was the night of the bachelor party and you had joked about standing up and objecting, Chan thought he'd spoken you down from it.

"Yn...This isn't time for jokes," Jeongin's mother hissed at you as you glanced over at her, she of all people could see how clearly you loved Jeongin. 

"Jeongin, this isn't a joke." You explained as you stepped toward him, ignoring as cameras caught everything that was about to happen. People were already bringing out their phones as if this was some kind of K-Drama that they had to record. 

"Yn," He warned in a deep voice, shaking his head at you but you went ahead with it anyway. He deserved to know how you felt about him even if it was too late. 

"I need to tell you how I feel...Fuck, I should have done this a long time ago and I know that-"

"Then stop talking." He ordered as he kept his hand tightly on Heathers, not letting go as he tried to stop you from ruining what was supposed to be his perfect day. Chan had promised him that he would do his best to control you and right now it didn't seem like it. 

"Jeongin I'm in love with you," What followed your words was complete and utter silence. It was so quiet that people would have heard the church mice running around the floor but you were sure they were all just as shocked as the guests. 

"I've been in love with you since we were kids and I can't watch you marry someone else when I love you," Heather was already crying as Jeongin brought her into his arms, wrapping his arm around her body way that he always did.

"I needed you to know how I felt."

"Fuck, you're so selfish!" He suddenly cried out as he stared at you, losing his patience as he watched you single handly mess up everything he had been looking forward to. 

"Innie..." Heather begged as she held onto his chest but he shook his head at her, not wanting to deal with it anymore. 

"Every chance you get you to try to fuck this up and I've had it! Don't you think if I even felt the same I would have said something to you?" A stab in your heart as Jeongin yelled at you in front of everyone in the room, your heartfelt as though it was being crushed into a ball.

"If you thought for one second I could have feelings for you don't you think I would have expressed them before now...Before I decided to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love?!" Guilt weighed down on your chest as he stared over at you, red in the face with anger as he couldn't believe you would do this here and now.

"I've dealt with you trying to break us up before but we're adults! How could you do this?" You stammered over your words as you tried to speak but Jeongin wasn't going to let you get a word in any way. 

"Get out." The way his voice came out calm scared you more than it did when he was yelling at you and you whimpered. 

"Heather was nice, she let you be a part of this wedding when I was against this and you throw it back in her face." You didn't know what hurt more. The fact that he didn't want you at his wedding in the first place or that Heather truly seemed to see you as somewhat of a friend and you had done this to her.

"I'm serious. Get out." You nodded as you frantically turned around to look for an exit that wasn't the giant double doors at the end. 

"GO!" Jeongin boomed as you raced back down the aisle and out into the car park where you were greeted by paparazzi and screaming fans. All of them were mad at you for what you had done inside of that room so you made your way to your car.

Desperately trying to open the door and get away from everyone who was yelling at you, cameras blinding you as you finally got inside. There were fans climbing all over your car, yelling how awful you were and how much they hated you.

20 missed calls from Chan along with voicemails you already knew what they said. It didn't take a genius to imagine what Chan was screaming at you down the phone for. That was why you didn't pick up in the first place, you just kept driving. You kept your eyes on the road as you ignored your phone vibrating on the seat beside you. It wasn't worth answering, not when you already knew what everyone was going to say if you picked up. 

Ever since you'd left the car park your Twitter had been going off only fueling you to drive faster and further away from Seoul. You were going to need to start a whole new life for yourself after just embarrassing yourself in front of everyone you knew, including the internet. 

Another buzz came from your phone making you yell out in frustration. Your hand reached out to the seat beside you, hopelessly searching around for your phone as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you but you couldn't find it.

For one second you took your eyes off the road to find your phone and answered it, 

"Look Chan I know I fucked up but you don't need to call in on me, I'm fine. I'm leaving just like he said." You explained but Chan wasn't in the mood for this, not when he had to just calm down a church full of people and get the wedding back on track. Luckily everyone had watched Jeongin and Heather get married happily and he was standing in the bar where the reception was being held.

"How could you have been so stupid?! We spoke about this!" You remembered because he had wanted to do the same thing. To stop Heather from marrying Jeongin but he hadn't had been foolish to actually go through with it. He saw how happy they were and wasn't going to be the one to wreck it. 

"I get it!" You screamed at him, not wanting to hear another person call you stupid for what you had done. If you could go back and change what you had said you would, you never would have opened your mouth, to begin with.

"No, you don't. Because you still stood up there and ruined their day." Before you could say anything in retaliation you screamed as a black SUV came speeding down the wrong side of the motorway causing you to swerve into the next lane. 

"YN!? YN?!" Chan boomed, concern seeping from his words as he tried to gather what was going on.

"I'm fine...I'm fine, I just...A car came from the other direction but I'm fine." You breathed out heavily as you looked around you, the car was racing down the wrong side of the highway and everyone appeared to be pulling over to get out of the way. Your breathing was erratic as you thought about how differently that could have ended up.

"You sure you're okay?" Chan questioned as he grabbed his car keys, even if you were fine he was still going to come out and see you.

"Fine Chan, relax-" Chan frowned as your voice cut out, only the sound of crushing metal could be heard so he called your name out. Checking that it wasn't his phone suddenly dropping a signal or having problems but your name was still on the screen, 

"Yn!?" He screamed as he began to head out of the reception hall, finding his car in the heated car park. It didn't matter if he was angry at you for what happened in the church you were his friend and the last thing he wanted was for something bad to happen to you.

Something bad had happened to you and other people on the highway that day. Not only had the car been driving in the wrong decoration but it had caused up to fifteen car accidents on that stretch of highway that you had been travelling on. A car had crashed into the back of your car crushing you between the car in front of you and their own car. 

There had been fatal losses that day but most of it had been drowned out by hate comments. Lots of people came out of the woodwork, claiming that it was karma for what you had done. For the most part, comments had been sad, expressing condolences for your family and friends but there were always those mean comments in the background.

Jeongin hadn't bothered to show his face at your funeral, Chan had begged for him to attend. Telling him that it wasn't worth holding a grudge over the dead but Jeongin couldn't face what you had done to him and refused to. 

"Fresh flowers," Chan whispered as he replaced the dead flowers that were on your headstone. Looking at your name that was carved into it and sighing a little, even if you had done something stupid nobody deserved to die the way you had. Alone and in unbearable pain. Letting out a small sigh Chan glanced behind him as he got up from the ground, it wasn't going to be long before reporters found him so he left the fresh flowers and headed back home to the dorms.

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