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chaoticforever · 6 months ago

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Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand.

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped."

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one.

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son.

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s.

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained.

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n.

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced.

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke.

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it.

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful.

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #son reader #x son!reader #x son reader #platonic #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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circeyoru · 3 months ago

Text

Future Power Couple = Requested

The Request

[Sung Jinwoo x S-Rank Player!Reader]

! ALERT

- A new Player has joined the System.

That was months ago. You have received noticed on how well this new Player did from time to time, sounded like the System was mighty happy with this Player’s progress. Well, it wasn’t like you could do anything when you knew this person was in the same situation as yourself. While it was good that the System helped you level up to be the strongest S-Rank Hunter, you were sort of a test run for the real Player. You didn’t like being used as a trial run.

You returned back to Korea after your exchange a bit too late. By the time you returned, the Jeju Raid ended in success with a major lost. Had you known he joined the raid, you would have joined too. Min Byung-Gyu and you were close but different, while he was the only Healer class S-Rank, you were his opposite as you were the only Assassin class S-Rank in Korea. Still, the uniqueness of your singular class among the fighter and mage class made the two of you bond like siblings with him being the other one.

So, without question, you attended his funeral. That’s when you caught a glimpse of the new S-Rank Hunter the Chairman was talking about. Sung Jinwoo, a mage class, former E-Rank and the Weakest Hunter of All Mankind. It was clear as day that he was the new Player the System noticed you all those months ago, and continuously praised. But that was all that happened, you didn’t stray away from the main objective that day and it was to honour your brother-like friend’s sacrifice and work.

“Can you join Hunter Sung to deal with a gate that appeared in the middle of the road?”

“Ha?” You side eyed the phone next to your ear. Just your luck that you were immediately given a dungeon to clear, and with Jinwoo no less. “He can handle it himself, right?” After all, he was raised by the System and leveled up to the point of gaining S-Rank. “There’s no need for me to join him.”

“You could see him in action.”

It was an enticing offer. You’ve only heard of Jinwoo’s powers and abilities, never did you see him fight or what he actually did during the Jeju Raid, since you were distraught about your friend’s death. You hummed and tapped your feet repeatedly, you want to go and don’t want to go. “Fine! Send me the location!”

Chuckles could be heard on the other side. “Haha, thank you for your work.”

Clearing a dungeon with a lack of teammates was nothing compared to what you usually do. You were the Association’s exclusive S-Rank Hunter, also known as The Underworld Assassin, due to your class and the fact that you do the Association’s dirty work. You were a feared Hunter unlike those that were treated as celebrities.

While Jinwoo seemed to be stopped by an officer in charge of the gate, you came up behind her. “Hey, let him pass, he has permission from the Chairman.”

It was obvious that she flinched from your sudden appearance, “Huh?! Oh, yes! Please!”

“Let’s go.” You told Jinwoo without sparing him another glance. All the better if he didn’t follow behind you and you had to deal with this situation alone. Just ilke always.

To your surprise, he followed. The two of you eyed each other when you got a good look at your surrounding. No doubt thinking of the same thing. This was definitely a Red Gate. It felt like a scam and it is one.

“I can handle it on my own.” Jinwoo proudly stated while his Shadows appeared behind him.

“Yeah? Well, I was sent to clear this dungeon by the Chairman too.” You glared at him, taking out your weapons from your inventory.

“You’ll be in my way. I have an army to help me.” Jinwoo gestured to his Shadows.

“Relying on your soldiers to do your work?” You teased with a smirk. “Some Hunter you are. I can manage all on my own.”

In the end, admist your argument with Jinwoo on who would clear the dungeon, the two of you had already destroyed the surrounding forest, weaker monsters and boss while Jinwoo’s Shadows tried to calm the two of you down. The argument only ended when you accidentally slipped and fell through the reopened gate, while pulling Jinwoo with you of course.

(It was Tusk that used his gravitational ability, Beru’s idea, and Igris’ agreement that made the two of you fall for each other. Literally.)

After your first raid with the Hunter, your System gave you stupid quests to meet with Jinwoo outside of work. Ridiculous missions like <Meet Your Partner!> or <Have A Meal> and Jinwoo got the same. The two of you worked out your little secret to growing strong. Turns out he was approached by Norma Selner as well, an offer to join their country’s ranks. Similarly, both of you declined.

“You’re too slow.”

“You’re too stiff.”

“Your form is weird.”

“You’re not acting like a mage.”

“An assassin doesn’t use bow and arrow.”

“A mage doesn’t use daggers.”

“Want to get punched?”

“Want to get stabbed?”

It was decided that once in a while, S-Rank Hunters would gather at the training grounds to train together and even have mock battles. Whenever you and Jinwoo were in the same hall, the two of you would immediately get into a spat then a mock battle. Because the two of you had the System and quicker recovery, you two would let loose. No unique skills and back-up (Jinwoo’s Shadows), just pure physical talent. Which always result in childish bantering back and forth between blows.

Your mock battles with Jinwoo always have to be timed else it could and would go on for hours. Cha Hae-In would rush to drag you away while Jinwoo had to be held off by Baek Yoonho and Ma Dongwook. Then the two of you would be sitting in the dialogically opposite spot glaring at each other, even resulting to making weird faces and hand gestures. The other Hunters could only sigh, unable to bear with the consequence if they stepped between you two.

Look at his silly face… Definitely not a better S-Rank Hunter than me. You looked away while drinking your water for a moment. But his speed is impressive… It’s been a while since I could let loose.

Being feisty again. Isn’t an assassin purposed to be quick with their target? Jinwoo would sneak glances at you while Hae-In requested to train with you and compete with a mock battle. Holding back? Guess mock battles with me is more fun. Ah, that form really brings out all the right qualities…

“They’re at it again.” Woo Jinchul sighed, calculating the damage cost that was done during the mock battle you had with Jinwoo.

“Young love is wonderful isn’t it?” Chairman Go Gunhee chuckled, watching the two of you look at each other when the other’s attention was elsewhere. Of course, noticing the facial expression change and the faint blush on your faces.

Jinchul groaned at the numbers, “We might as well have an entire island as their battle grounds.”

“That would give them the privacy needed.”

“Yes, that would help with the cost—” Jinchul did a double take to what the Chairman said, “Pardon sir?”

Gunhee only smiled and turned to his trusted aid, “If the two most powerful Hunters in our country were officially a couple, don’t you think they’d be a power couple?”

“...I suppose…”

Note: Yay! This is my first request for Solo Leveling! Hope it's done as you expected or wanted, Anon! Feels like everything's all over the place, but it's what it is. Enjoy!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none)

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #Future Power Couple

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pink-amethyst-tarot · 28 days ago

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🤍 Why You Should Be Proud Of Yourself 🤍

credit to @crystallilytarot for the idea 💕

P I L E 1 P I L E 2 P I L E 3

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the pile that you think is the one for you ♥

P I L E 1 - You have come so far! Four of Swords, The High Priestess, Two of Pentacles, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Pentacles, The Fool, The Magician

The first thing I heard before even pulling cards is The Party's Just Begun by the Cheetah Girls and that feels like a sign that you should be having fun, dancing and living your life to the fullest! Your life can be so beautiful if you let it.

You know much more than you think that you do. I feel like you are back and forth between losing faith in yourself and feeling like you are finally breaking through. (I know what that's like, I've been there too much.) You've got to cut yourself some slack. Yeah, it's not perfect now but, you have made so much progress and that is important. You are so much closer to the finish line than you realize. Don't give up now. You've worked too hard and have come too far to give up now.

party cuz you know the future's all yours // dance 'til your feet don't touch the floor // celebrate the day you've waited for // party like you're ready for so much more // do it like you know it's never been done // go a little crazy // have too much fun //today's the day, c'mon everyone // the party's just begun //

Channeled song - The Party's Just Begun by The Cheetah Girls

P I L E 2 - Going With The Flow Two of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Wands (Reversed), Six of Pentacles, Justice, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Swords

Despite your fear of change, you have overcome, finding your balance in your life and either now or soon, you will be enjoying the fruits of your labor. That could be financial abundance for this pile - it seems pretty likely, considering all the pentacles. You have been a very giving person and now it's time that people start giving to you in whatever way that may fit you.

You should also be proud of yourself for getting yourself to a point where you don't feel sorry for yourself. You've done the work to really see the truth of the situation - where you have been both right and wrong - and you've seen that you aren't as stuck as you once thought.

P I L E 3 - You've opened your heart again! King of Cups, Ten of Swords, Seven of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Eight of Pentacles (Reversed), The Moon, Ten of Cups

You've been through some hard times. I feel like your heart was really bruised and batter but, despite the things you have been through, you have taken your lemons and turned them into make lemonade! I can see some of you turning to writing, journaling, or posting on social media. You have been working on yourselves and you are so happy with the progress you've made. You should be proud of yourself; I know I am! This work you have done on yourself is leading you to a new beginning in your life, a change of pace that you have be dying to have!

Your dreams are coming true and your intuition is spot on! You are about to get everything you wanted and then some so you can relax and know that your life is about to change for the better.

If you are looking for a personal reading, you can look on my shop on Etsy at PinkAmethystTarot, DM me or send me an e-mail at [email protected]

If you feel called to tip:

C@SH@PP: $oddlycozycottage

P@YP@L: @oddlycozycottage

KO-FI: @oddlycozycottage

Thank you all so much for interacting with me and my readings, it really does mean the world to me!

Page Divider by @cafekitsune

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

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thehistoriangirl · 15 days ago

Text

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Chapter 2]

I live!!!

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----2.1K----SFW

// M A S T E R L I S T

<- Previous Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor was never supposed to see you again, just like you had promised that evening when you both ended up heartbroken and bitter toward destiny and all its twisted ways. So twisted as to put you back into his life not only as a temporal working partner to cover Jayce’s absences, but also as the maid of honor in the wedding where he’ll be the best man. Hypothetically, it doesn’t have to be that difficult to find a way around the river of memories flowing between you both. Though, of course, hypotheses are flawed. Just like that part of him that still craves another ending to this story.

Chapter Summary: People say things look better under a new light. But once you step inside Viktor's lab, Viktor discovers that the view isn't just striking, but also very troublesome.

Taglist: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @syren201 @slycazzz @jourlinemaktan @seraceres @m1dnight-artisan

Viktor was no stranger to sleepless nights.

Most of them could be excused by incessant workload lined up on his desk in the form of blueprints and pages filled with scribbles of ink where equations hadn’t resolved in a positive way.

It wasn’t about rushing thoughts of the future looming over his shoulder either; the time when his conscience whispered that he couldn’t be good enough. That he’d never be, as progress is a fleeting, moody thing.

What an unbreakable riddle were you. Your words haunted him; your kiss… soared his heart. Guiltily so; flown at the past he promised couldn’t revisit. And not only because digging out the tender flesh already buried would mean expose the wound again, risking of bleeding out.

I want to be the Interior Design’ Teacher at the Architecture Faculty.

He laid in his bed, covers barely thrown open, his mind filled with the million possibilities about the future, once hopeful and bright with all the new inventions he could create with Hextech, to the one where he had to walk carefully across campus to not take a glimpse of you passing by.

Get over it, get over it.

He wished it’d be so easy. Guilt gnawed at him, now already broken free from the depths of the drawer where he kept your photo. The ring he never gave you, that he’d been fool enough not to return. A treacherous mind he had, repeating old routines as his personal condemn.

Sighing, he incorporated at the edge of the bed. Pitch darkness looked back from every corner of the quiet room. His fingers grabbed the handle of his crutch, the familiar leather creaked under his unrelenting grasp once he hauled himself up.

He should have left right away, as he did when the strain in his muscles didn’t allow him any rest. But something stopped him.

His reflection in the mirror showed what he most tried to hide. Deep eyebags, messy hair, wrinkly clothes.

Viktor didn’t wish to give you reasons as to think he was so unkept because of you. Because he wasn’t—it was only a bad night sleep. Not the first and either the last.

Groaning, he took the dubious decision to bathe in the middle of the night. Seeking the refuge of the cold water to calm the cascade of thoughts sieging him. It was like any other day back at the Academy, when he was Heimerdinger’s assistant. Time had gone backwards.

Replaced rolled up dress-shirt’s sleeves with proper cufflinks. His creamy vest now gray with ash and oil stains replaced by a clean one, just as his pants. Untamed hair controlled with luck.

The way back to the lab was calmer at night, with only the cold hitting his face during his journey up the hill. Empty boulevards whose metallic details shone silver against a crescent moon in a clear, starry sky.

He wondered, for a moment where his mind forgot to close the floodgate, if the sky looked the same in the place you had being for the last decade. That—if the tawdriness of those novelists wasn’t tricking him—the moon had watched you built who you were now.

He couldn’t stop the stab of jealousy that coursed through his bones.

The walk cut short after that, dipping his face to the ground until the had to look up toward the guards appointed at the entrance of the research building. A simple nod. At least he didn’t have to break in again, though he thanked those days where lies had flown out his tongue so easily.

Viktor presaged he would need the practice.

*~*~*~*~*~*

At first, he heard the echo of your heels against the desolate hallway.

The familiar whirring mechanism of the door that both Jayce and him had forgotten to oil up.

Then, he must fill the uncomfortable feeling that the lab was shrunk up.

“You’re late.” As an answer, you put a cup of steaming coffee at his left, right where there weren’t any papers that could be stained. “…thank you.”

Finally, he saw you.

A loose, airy blouse and a fancy skirt that hugged your legs up your knees. Perfect for a space this enclosed where the heat of the machine motors warmed it up by noon.

“You can’t wear that,” he stated, meeting your frown with his own. “Where’s your safety equipment?”

“Where’s yours?” you said back, crossing your arms in signal of victory when Viktor got out of excuses.

“I have deep understanding of safety measures in a space such as this, whereas you do not.”

“What? Do you think I’m going to lay on the desk while you tinker with a machine?” You huffed. “Have more faith in me, Viktor.”

You shouldn’t say his name so nonchalantly, especially when Viktor could never mask his reactions to your keen eyes.

“I’m going to attempt to fix this faulty prototype, so you’ll have to wear at least a lab coat if you want to enter the lab.”

“Really now?”

Grunting, Viktor stood up toward the closet at the far left of the room, grabbing two of his coats—because you wouldn’t let him alone if he didn’t abide by his own rules. “Take this one,” he said, throwing you one with his free hand, plopping in the stool back again.

“Don’t you have a smaller one?” He saw you, with the grey clothes almost serving as a robe. One of the sleeves was burned, with a hole the size of the Hexclaw’s laser.

“It’s the only one we have here,” Viktor lied. Well, only a half-truth. Jayce’s clothes wouldn’t fit you, and Sky kept them locked inside her workstation in the annex room.

“Something more I need to wear? Or can you signal me Jayce’s drawing table?” You said instead, leaving your bag at one corner of the hexagonal forge in the middle of the room. Right next to Viktor’s bag where he had shoved the jacket he wore to come here at the dead of night.

“It’s the only one next to the chalkboard.” They shared worktable for all the times Jayce was pondering about designs while Viktor looked at the sketches to make modifications. He had all night to clean it, stacking the papers in Jayce’s desk that wouldn’t be used in a while so you didn’t have another reason to criticize him. “You can use the chalkboard if you want.”

“It’s alright. I’m only drafting planes with the sizes they provided.” You voice sounded absent, muffled once you crouched to lift your map case, getting out your usual tools of mediation, escalimeter, and set squares. The gigantic T ruler, slid smoothly over the worn-out wood. Every movement seemed so easy to emulate, the way your fingers flew across the surface to set the plan in front of you, getting out all kind of pencils that for Viktor looked all the same.

“Do you need something?” Your voice tore him away whatever place his mind was wandering.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

He blinked, using his left leg to turn the stool around. “Of course I wasn’t,” he snapped, followed by the sound of your unamused hum.

After all, you promised to maintain peace, and so you did during the excruciatingly long morning.

Viktor had his back sore from being hunched down toward a pile of scribbles that made no sense; unconclusive theories and half-done equations. Yet he didn’t dare to look away the paper in front of him, no matter how much his eyes blurred and his muscles ached. He could hear the friction of the pencil against paper, the eraser’s circular motions and the soft blow coming from your lips.

Years ago, all you had was the familiar table at the third story of the library. Next a window so you both tracked the time by the change of light. He still remembered the hues over your hair, like a kaleidoscope. By the time darkness had arrived, he was tugging at your hand over the table to wake you up.

Since when reminiscences sieged him? It was so usual for Piltover to always look toward the future that attempt to look back would endanger one into tripping and being left behind. This felt wrong, stuck in a past that no longer mattered.

You were only classmates, after all.

“This is the design.” Over his numb hands, the paper of your plan was sturdy and rough to stop the abrasion of the eraser from making a hole in it. He was thankful for the hiding spot once he felt his right hand twitch by instinct, just awoken by the familiar, now fancier, milk and lavender scent of your hair.

His eyes swept over the drawing; thin, delicate lines showed a slick tower mirroring that of the Hexgates, curved and unbalanced in an amorph geometrical pattern. Behind it was the complement, so at the distance it would look like one.

He observed you. Dangerously close. You had changed, blooming even prettier with age. Contemplative eyes used to take every detail in, new marks of wrinkles of your smiles and beams. Yet the same lips and cheeks he loved to caress.

You arched your eyebrows. “So?”

You’re precious. “I don’t favor any of these design in particular.” He shrugged, trying to get off the weight of your attention. “They’re not my taste.”

“Then you have terrible taste.”

Oh, truly? You wanted to pick a fight? He had some time to spare, then.

“Alright. Do you want an honest opinion?” Viktor sighed, as if he were exhausted by this conversation and not having his heart working overtime. “They’re ugly.”

You smiled at him; an ironic grin but a smile after all. “Thank you. I won first place in the contest with this one.”

Viktor extended a hand toward you, fingers pointing in an accusing manner. “Now you see? You can’t handle constructive criticism—”

“What constructive criticism?“ you hissed, but he ignored it. Taking a deep breath, you plastered a kind smile on your face that almost made him chuckle. “Why are they ugly?”

Viktor hummed. “Severe. Pretentious.”

“You don’t really recognize who the clients are, do you?”

“I know who are the clients, which is why I’m saying it.” He reclined in his seat. “This aren’t how your designs usually are.” It wasn’t a question, as shameful as it may feel, with his cheeks burning and eyes averting, he remembered the vision you once shared.

You retreated one step, a futile attempt at building a fort.

“You don’t know my designs,” you said, your tone cutting like a knife’s. “Not anymore.” You were already walking toward your bag, and Viktor cursed in a hushed breath. This wasn’t what peace supposed to be.

You loved curves and simpler facades, towers with gigantic windows so the residents inside could feel they touched the sky, small houses to hide a precious treasure in the form of a cozy living room to cuddle in a cold winter.

“Wait—” he called your name, and it sounded so wrong. Tasted bitterly when once had been the sweetest.

“What?!” you snapped. “Just give it to Jayce so he can show it to the Council. Roll it if you don’t want to see it.”

Viktor stood up. “You’re trying to pick a fight.” And he understood. You left without the chance to free all that built up inside of you the moment you got apart, and time had only harvested that sadness into pure wraith.

You huffed. “I don’t even know why I bother to ask your opinion.” You signaled the whole lab. “Do you want to know why you never won any Inventor’s Contest in your time as student? Because your designs were ugly.”

Viktor frowned. “Now who’s bringing the past? My prototypes worked perfectly—more of what I can say to the many winners whose inventions never saw the light of day outside the award.”

“Functionality and aesthetics must be interwoven, Viktor.” You felt as if teaching a stubborn child. “This is what I’m referring to when I say you have bad taste.”

“I would love to differ,” he said, his mind clouded by irritation, nervousness, and the ever-present reminders of another life. “How would you accuse me of having horrid taste when I dated you once?”

The silence hung heavy and charged between the two. You looked as if he had hit you with his cane, and he didn’t feel any better.

What have you just done?

“You’re impossible,” you just said with a tired sigh. Turning your back toward him and almost running out the door.

#viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader

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motherlvr · 1 year ago

Note

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

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penkura · 7 months ago

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Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader

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therealcocoshady · 7 months ago

Note

Lilly and Marshall go out in a public setting and paparazzi start taking lots of pictures and this has never happened to Lilly before so she’s flipping out and Marshall goes into protective dad mode

Author’s Note : thank you for your request ❤️. I always have fun writing about Marshall & Lily ✨. Here is the fic, I hope you enjoy it !

Protective DILF

Being pregnant with twins wasn’t going to be easy, especially when it’s a « geriatric pregnancy ». That’s what the doctors explained when they told Y/N and Marshall that they were expecting not one, but two babies. And as the pregnancy progressed, it turned out to be true : it was exhausting carrying twins and dealing with the symptoms. Marshall’s wife was told to rest as much as possible, even though it was definitely easier said than done with Lily, who was demanding a lot of attention. They’d been told it was normal, but ever since she learned that she was going to be a big sister, she tended to be less independent, seeking her parents’ help and attention for most things. Thankfully, Marshall kept true to his word to be there for every step of the pregnancy and he was as present as necessary for everyone. Since Y/N was put on bedrest, he was the one dealing with taking Lily to school, picking her, taking her to her various activities, as well as managing the entire household. Thank God Lily was an easy child with a good temper, because he had a lot on his plate. And he definitely didn’t need the drama that was about to take place.

Lily had been pestering him about going to Chuck E. Cheese. It was one of her favorite places and, usually, Y/N went with her, but she didn’t have the energy. Plus, their little one was really into the trampoline section and it was definitely not ideal for an expecting mother. So it now fell upon him and it did take some convincing from his wife and older daughters but he ended up taking her. At first, he considered paying to have the place closed and avoid attention, but Y/N reminded him that the purpose of such a place was for their little girl to socialize with other children. He ended up reviewing logistics with his security team, picking a day of the week where the place would not be busy and agreeing that two guards would be waiting in a car outside, ready to intervene at any moment should anyone discover that he was there. Y/N questioned the need for security altogether but he insisted. Call it a gut feeling, parental instinct or straight up paranoia, but he felt more at ease having security around. He usually didn’t bother being escorted when it came to everyday life, but it wasn’t the usual errands in their neighborhood where everyone knew them, so it actually made sense to him. If it were just him, he wouldn’t care, but he wouldn’t take any risk regarding Lily.

His baby girl had a blast at Chuck E. Cheese, jumping around and playing games. He was happy to see her all giddy and smiling, cherishing the last moments with her as the baby of the household. Him and Y/N would never neglect her for the benefit of the babies, but he knew they would have their hands full and that moments like these would be more rare. Lily was jumping on the trampoline with a few other kids while he was sipping on some Diet Coke, texting Y/N that everything was going great when a Mom came to him.

- Hi, she said with a bright smile. Is the little girl over there yours ?

- Hi, he replied, looking up from his phone. Yeah, actually. Did something happen ? Did she fall ?

- No, relax, she said with a laugh. She’s actually super cute. She’s playing with my son over there.

- Oh, ok, he said.

- I’m Sandy, she said as she extended her hand. Marshall, is it ?

- Indeed, he said politely.

- It’s so nice to meet you, she continued. I’ve been a fan for years. Mind if I take a selfie of us ?

She already had her phone in hand, ready to take the damn selfie before he could even refuse. She was nice and rather polite and, usually, he would oblige, but he was in a Chuck E. Cheese, with his daughter nearby and now was definitely not the time to take selfies with fans, regardless of how nice they were. He immediately stopped her with a move of his hand.

- I appreciate it, Sandy, but I’d rather not take selfies now, he said as he tried to keep his composure. It’s a family place, I’m with my kid, I’m sure you understand.

- Right, she said. Sorry. I didn’t know you had a younger one. Or that you’re married…

She was looking intently at his wedding band. When he made public appearances, he made sure to take it off (in fact, his team had an explicit order to remind him) but, other than that, he wore it all the time. He immediately put his hand in his pocket.

- Well… Privacy, he simply said. That has nothing to do with hip-hop, you know ?

- Your wife is lucky, she said with a seductive grin. It’s a shame that…

- DADDY ! Lily called him, saving him from the interaction that was growing unpleasant.

- Excuse me, he said politely.

He immediately walked over to his little one, thankful that she called him when she did. She wanted to go to the tube and tunnels area with him and he happily obliged. He focused his undivided attention on Lily and soon forget about Sandy. So much so that he didn’t notice her snapping a picture of him, waiting for Lily to go down the slide. About thirty minutes later, one member of his security team came to see him.

- Mr Mathers ?

- Yeah, John ? He asked. What are you doing inside ? What’s wrong ?

- There’s an… issue, the guard said. Someone tipped off the media, there’s about ten reporters out front. We need to leave.

- Fuck, Marshall sighed. Alright. Lily, come here baby, we’re going home.

- No, Daddy, I want to stay here a little longer, the little one said with pleading eyes. We’re having fun.

- I know bug, but we’ve been here for a while now, he said. Time to go.

He tried not to communicate his anxiety to his daughter. He could see the place’s staff at the entrance, no doubt talking about the reporters. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene. He just wanted to avoid Lily’s picture being taken.

- What do we do ? He asked the guard.

- I took the liberty to call for a couple more colleagues, just in case, John explained. They’ll be here in ten minutes. Once they arrive, I’ll walk you to the car. I think we should ask the manager if we can use the back exit.

- Good, Marshall said. Lily, put on your shoes, ok ?

- What’s wrong, Daddy ? She asked, sensing that he was nervous.

- There’s a couple of reporters outside, he calmly explained. Remember when I told you about people possibly bugging us ? We’re going to go to the car in a few minutes, and I’m going to need you to listen to me, baby. You do as I say, alright ?

His daughter nodded, nervously glancing at the door. There was a crowd, starting to gather, causing panic among the staff, and it was starting to be noisy. He took off his hoodie and his hat and put them on her. He wanted to hide her face as much as possible.

- I can’t see, Daddy, she complained.

- Just keep these on until we’re in the car, baby, he directed.

When John told him they could go, he carried Lily and they attempted to take the emergency exit, though some reporters were there as well. They retreated inside, the situation starting to get on his nerves. John offered to take Lily with him while Marshall walked to the car with another guard but the little one protested. The noise was starting to freak her out and, as soon as Marshall tried to hand her to John, she started crying.

- Daddy, no, come back ! She almost screamed.

- Baby, it’s just for two minutes, I’ll meet you in the car, he said as reassuringly as he could.

- Don’t leave, she cried. Daddy !

She was starting to sniffle and panic and he knew he couldn’t leave her like this. He held her close and tried to soothe her, tracing circles on her back.

- I’m scared, she whispered.

- I know, he said. It’s scary. But I’m taking care of it, ok ?

His team brought the car as close as they could to the exit and he sent one of them to ask the press not to swarm them. They seemed to reach an agreement, saying they just wanted pictures of him and that they would leave his child alone. He hated the idea of being photographed anyway, but this seemed like a decent deal : at least, Lily’s face wouldn’t be out there. He would allow them to take a pic of him once Lily was in the car. They finally managed to step outside as he was holding Lily who was hidden in his hat and hoodie, face buried in his neck. The reporters were asking questions about her, who she was, if he had her with Kim, but at least, they didn’t snap any pictures. He stayed silent, though, refusing to comment. He was strapping Lily in her carseat when he heard a flash. He immediately slammed the car door shut and turned, only to see a paparazzi holding a lens way too close. He instantly grabbed the camera and dropped it on the ground. The man protested, complaining about the price of his equipment but he couldn’t care less.

- I hope you have good dental insurance, Marshall warned.

- You’re not hitting me, the man taunted. We already have pics of your kid, we’ll publish them anyw-

- LEAK ONE PIC OF HER AND I’LL FUCKING DESTROY YOU, he threatened as he grabbed him by the collar. NOW YOU LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE !

The conflict started to escalade and his bodyguards had to intervene, to protect both him and the paparazzi. He was ready to throw some fists and almost forgot that Lily was able to see the whole scene from the car. John talked some sense into him and he got in the backseat, sitting next to his freaked out daughter, letting his security drive. He helped her take his hat off, examining her tear-stained face.

- It’s alright, babygirl, he said softly. We’re safe.

- You scared me, Daddy ! She said. You screamed real, real loud.

- I know, baby, I’m sorry, he said apologetically. But I’m not letting anyone taking your picture. Because I don’t want anyone bugging you.

She nodded and he held her hand for the rest of the drive, trying to manage his own anger. If Lily had not been with him, he probably would have made a u-turn and broken a few noses. Thankfully, his team was handling everything. When they got home, he let Lily watch some TV while he went to find Y/N, who was resting in their bedroom. He wasn’t too sure how to break the news to her that, nearly four years after he adopted Lily, the press knew he had another kid. However, it seemed like he didn’t need to. She was looking at him with an annoyed look on her face.

- You already know ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. News travels fast…

- I have nothing better to do than scroll on my phone all day, she sighed. Of course I know. How is Lily ?

- Scared but ok, I guess, he said. Managed to calm her down in the car. She’s watching TV now.

- Ok, she said with a reassured expression. And you ?

He didn’t reply, simply shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure how he was feeling. Pissed off, for sure, but also nervous and disappointed. He wasn’t quite sure how much the pictures showed, and where to go from here. How would the public react to him being married, having a secret kid and two more on the way ? Paul would probably advise him to put out a statement so he should think of what to say… he would have wanted to keep his family life a secret longer. The last four years with Y/N and Lily by his side had been so enjoyable and he wanted nothing more but to shield them from his fame. And the thought of the public knowing about his unborn babies made him terrified of the potential attention they would get, too. Honestly, the thought of living his little family to another country didn’t seem so bad. He sighed and sat next to her on the bed, before eventually laying his head on her lap. Y/N gently ran her fingers in his hair, gently scratching his scalp and he closed his eyes for a minute.

- I’m sorry, he muttered.

- Whatever for ? She asked. You’re not the one who tipped the media…

- I failed to protect you guys, he sighed. I failed to protect Lily… you should have seen her, babe… you should have seen them. Hovering like vultures, screaming, scaring her.

- We always knew it might happen, she said. I’m gutted, don’t get me wrong, but we managed to protect her for five years. Married four without people knowing. In hindsight, it’s a miracle people didn’t find out sooner.

- I guess, he shrugged. Still, I’m mad at myself… I scared Lily.

- What did you do ?! She asked, suddenly alarmed.

- I… lost it with a guy, he explained. He tried to take a pic of Lily ! I grabbed him and gave him a piece of my mind.

- So you basically assaulted a man in front of our daughter ?! Y/N asked, starting to get worked up.

- Look, I’m not proud of myself, he groaned. But I wasn’t about to let him get away with that. I simply grabbed him, I didn’t break his nose. No matter how badly he would have deserved it…

- Marshall…, she scolded.

- I know, he simply said. It fucking sucks. I just wanted Lily to have a good time. Now, I’m going to have to call Paul and my publicist… fuck.

- I’m sorry, my love, Y/N said as she kept on stroking his head.

They stayed like this for a moment, enjoying each other’s comforting presence, and Y/N finally went downstairs to check on Lily. She was fine, though she did mention the whole thing was scary. Marshall stayed upstairs for a moment, gathering his thoughts and trying to pace himself before calling Paul back. His manager had tried to reach him ten times in the past hour, leaving various voice messages, urging him to call back. There were good and bad news. The good news was that Lily’s face didn’t appear anywhere, concealed thanks to Marshall’s hoodie and hat. The only thing the media saw of her were her jeans and sneakers. The bad news, however, was that the whole thing had been filmed and that images of an angry Marshall smashing the reporter’s camera were being shared on social media at the speed of light. The response was overall positive and people tended to support him instead of the reporter, who was clearly at fault. However, there was a lot of speculation and even people who claimed to have insider information, making false allegations. They had no choice but to put out a statement. They had a conference call with their publicist, who suggested only giving the necessary information. After quickly consulting with Y/N, he decided not to give any details on Lily, not giving away her name nor her age, as well as avoiding mentioning the pregnancy. The statement would only acknowledge the day’s events, as well as confirm that Lily was, indeed, his daughter and that he was married. To him, that was enough.

« As the result of the publication on social media of a picture taken without consent, today’s events have caused a lot of speculation regarding Mr Mathers’(professionally known as Eminem) family life. Mr Mathers expresses his regret for how the situation unfolded, the altercation with the press having caused distress not only for him but also for the other people present at the location. Mr and Mrs Mathers formally oppose the publication of any media depicting their child and ask for the respect of the privacy of their family life. They also express their intention to sue any individual trying to sell pictures of their daughter, as well as any media outlet who might publish them. »

In the evening, a couple of hours later, the internet was in a frenzy over the whole thing and the confirmation that Marshall was, indeed, married and had a younger daughter. A lot of people were also swooning over the pictures of him holding Lily, obsessing over his strong arms and stern look.

- The internet seems to be obsessing over you again, Y/N mentioned while he was preparing dinner.

- Well I’d rather have them forget all about me, he groaned. I swear, I’m going to retire, just to get some peace. Or move us to the edge of the earth…

- It’s not so bad, she commented. They appreciate how protective you are. Also, calling you the ultimate DILF. I don’t disagree…

- DILF, huh ? He asked with a sudden smirk.

- Look who’s suddenly in a good mood, she grinned.

- I like that you agree with them, he said with a smile. Maybe you could show me how much, later ?

- Gladly, she said as she pecked him on the cheek.

He turned his face and kissed her lovingly. They were interrupted by Lily.

- Mommy what’s that word ? She asked with a raised eyebrow.

- What word, baby ? Y/N asked.

- The one you said. DILF.

- Oh… hum… it’s a word people use when a Dad is very attractive, Y/N explained as she tried to contain her laughter. Like, when they want to talk to him and flirt…

- Like with Daddy and the lady today ? Lily asked innocently.

- Yes, like Daddy and- wait what ? What lady ?

Marshall said nothing and focused on the vegetables he was chopping for dinner, conveniently ignoring the conversation.

- There was a lady who talked to Daddy today at Chuck E. Cheese, Lily explained. She was smiling a lot.

- Interesting, Y/N said with a raised eyebrow. Looks like someone doesn’t need my appreciation…

- Come on, babe. It happens, Marshall hummed.

- Does it, now ?

- All the time, Lily said. All the mommies at my school-

- Lily, baby, how about you go and watch some cartoons before dinner, mmh ? Marshall suggested to cut the conversation short.

- Ok, the little one said with a shrug.

Y/N was leaning against the kitchen island, visibly upset and pouting. He sighed and went to hug her but she turned her head.

- Thought you agreed with the DILF thing ? He asked with a smile.

- They’re allowed to think it, not to act on it…, she groaned.

- No one’s doing anything, he chuckled. Just a couple of smiling, very friendly ladies. What’s up ? You’re usually not as upset when it comes to groupies or fans…

- I know, she said. But this is real life. Now that you’re the one going places with Lily and taking her to school… I hate thinking about all of them making eyes at you. Especially while I’m bored, at home, getting fat.

- You’re not getting fat, he chuckled. I mean, you are, you’re huge, but-

- MARSHALL !!!

- It’s because you’re growing two beautiful babies, he continued. Our babies. No one holds a candle to you. I might be a DILF but you’re the ultimate MILF.

- You think ? She asked with a pout.

- No one ever made pregnancy look so hot, he said lovingly. If you weren’t supposed to rest so much, I would gladly show my appreciation all day, everyday…

- I love you, she chuckled. But im glad that everyone knows we’re married, though.

- Territorial much, Mrs Mathers ? He asked.

- Yes, she giggled. Very.

- I like it, he chuckled.

- You have to protect what’s yours, right ?

- Right. And believe me, I’m going to do everything I can to protect what’s mine, he replied as he put a hand on her round belly.

She cooed and placed a hand over his, when they felt a little kick. They immediately looked at each other and smiled. It was the first time they felt one of the babies move. Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with happy tears and Marshall kneeled to place a kiss on his wife’s stomach.

- That’s right, guys, he said with an emotional smile. I’m always going to protect you.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #Marshall and Lily

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b0r3dtod3ath · 3 months ago

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coworker!Oscar who is very into reader who really likes him too, but both are very clumsy and oblivious. maybe throw in a company dinner party to make things interesting ;)

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ synopsis / warnings: office!au / none

♡ a/n: i hope you like it! thanks for requesting and sorry for the wait.

As he walked into his new workplace Oscar tried to look confident but failed at that. His nerves were barely, but still, visible behind his calm facial expression. The receptionist greeted him with a friendly smile and pointed him to his new desk. Large windows provided much light and an amazing view of the city. But Oscar wasn’t thinking about the view outside. He was far more intrigued by the person sitting at the desk opposite his.

You looked up when he arrived, offering a polite smile as a greeting before your eyes looked back at the screen in front of you. He sat down but after a moment he felt panic run through his veins. He looked at you, your expression was one of focus, but there was a softness to your features that made you seem more welcoming than intimidating. Gathering some courage, Oscar cleared his throat “Uh, hi,” he began, his voice a bit shaky. “I’m, um, new here, and I’m having a bit of trouble setting up my computer. Do you think you could help me? I’m kind of… lost”.

When you saw the nervousness in his eyes, your expression immediately softened. “Of course, I’d be happy to help” you said warmly, standing up and walking over to his desk. “It can be tricky the first time, but it’s really not that bad once you get to know it”. Oscar exhaled in relief, as he watched you clicking. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Oscar, by the way”. “Nice to meet you, Oscar. I’m Y/N” you replied, offering your hand for a shake. His grip was firm but gentle, his palm slightly cold to the touch.

As the day progressed, both of you settled into your work. E-mails, team group chats, reports - an usual Monday in your office. But you found it different. Every so often, you’d glance up from your monitor, only to find Oscar doing the same. Each time your eyes met, there was a flicker of surprise, followed by a shy smile, before you both quickly looked back at your screens.

Oscar was trying to focus, he really was. The nerves of a first day and ,more importantly, a new co-worker created a fog in his mind. By lunchtime, Oscar was starving, but he didn’t know anyone and the vision of eating alone wasn’t very appealing. Just as he was thinking about what to do you stood up, catching his attention.

“Hey, Oscar,” you said, your voice soft but carrying a hint of warmth that made his heart skip a beat. “I was thinking of grabbing lunch. There’s a really good place not far from here if you want to join me?”. Oscar blinked, surprised at your offer. He wondered if you could read his mind or just heard his stomach growling. He quickly nodded, which came off as a bit too eager “Yeah, I’d love to. That sounds great”.

You both gathered your things and quickly headed out. It was a quick walk and luckily for you the weather was great. The sun cast a warm glow and the not too loud humm of the city left no room for awkward silence.

“You must be nervous,” you said gently, breaking the comfortable silence. “First days can be pretty overwhelming, especially when you’re in a new place”. He lifted his gaze from his shoes only for it to meet your eyes. He let out a small laugh “Yeah, a lot of new people, new place. I’m trying not to mess up”. You smiled “I get it. On my first day I ended up getting lost while trying to find the restroom. I swear, when I finally found it all I wanted to do was cry. So, don't worry, it’s totally normal to feel a bit out of place at first”.

He chuckled at your confession, a big smile appeared on his face. He felt the tension slowly leaving his body.

This became a regular thing for you two. Everyday as the clock struck 12.30 you two got up and headed to get lunch together. This didn’t go unnoticed to the pair of your middle aged co-workers. Soon, whispers about you and “this new boy” became an escape from work among your fellow employees. It was obvious to everyone else that there was something there, but you both continued to dance around it.

One morning, as you were settling into your desk, Oscar appeared with a coffee cup in hand. “Morning,” he said with a shy smile, setting the cup down in front of you. “Wow Oscar, thank you”. You took a sip “You got it just right. Thank you so much”. A big, warm smile expressed your gratitude. He shrugged, trying to act casual, though you could see the slight blush on his cheeks. He had taken a mental note of exactly how you like your coffee a few days prior.

Another day, you went to take a bathroom break and when you came back your previously empty water bottle was filled up. You looked at his focused face “Thanks, Osc”. His cheeks got a bit red at the new nickname you had given him. “No big deal, I went to refill my bottle and I noticed yours was empty”.

Few weeks later, the conference room had been transformed into a lively gathering space, complete with twinkling string lights and a makeshift dance floor. You and Oscar had spent most of the evening together. It was natural to you.

As people began to leave, you found yourself walking outside with Oscar, the cool evening air a refreshing change from the warmth of the party. The streets were quiet, and the city lights cast a soft glow over everything. “I’ll walk you home,” Oscar offered, his voice low and a bit hesitant. You smiled and nodded, moving closer to him as if to catch some of his body heat. The conversation flowed naturally, with occasional silences that felt comfortable rather than awkward. Just like your first lunch break.

When you finally reached your building, you turned to face him. Oscar seemed to hesitate, shuffling his feet slightly before looking up at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “I was wondering if maybe… you’d like to have dinner sometime?” he asked, his voice soft but stressed. “Like, not just lunch, but an actual dinner?”. Your heart skipped a beat at the question, warmth spreading through you. “I’d like that a lot, Oscar” you replied, smiling up at him. His face lit up, relief and excitement evident in his eyes. Before you could overthink it, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “Goodnight, Oscar” you whispered, pulling back with a soft smile.

Oscar stood there, a little stunned, but a broad grin slowly spread across his face. “Goodnight” he replied, his hand unconsciously touching the spot where your lips had just been, his expression dazed.

requests are open

August 22, 2024

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri blurb

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