#like i always thought it was weird how when he punches that robber and says LEFT HOOK

[tubpumpkin]

This Gravity Falls revival is fucking great. I’m still finding out new shit about this show. Like what do you mean Ford was in the stands during Stan’s boxing match flashback? Alex. When I catch you Alex. Alex when I catch you Alex. Alex when I catch you Alex.

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— I’VE SEEN FIRE, I’VE SEEN RAIN ; PART 2 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1909

SUMMARY: Being laid off isn’t very fun but Bruce tends to find himself even more entangled in your life, including his alter ego—Batman.

A/N: I’m loving this series and if you are, feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading my crappy stuff aka my daydreams <3

WARNINGS: Guns! Death threats! Crying! A mental breakdown!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

James Taylor’s Fire and Rain plays like a funeral hymn on the record player, echoing through your studio apartment. You’re sitting on the ground, back against the ratty couch with a pizza box on your lap. You take a bite of a BBQ Chicken pizza slice, furiously wiping your tears away as you replayed the events from six hours ago. From being called to the principal's office to only be told that you’re one of the non-tenured teachers to be laid off due to cutbacks. Gotham High was...a tough school. The students were mean to you because well, you're young and always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you taught English Literature and frankly, your students didn’t exactly enjoy the subject as much as you wanted them to. Nevertheless, you’re devastated. Teaching was a dream of yours, and it’s being taken away from you. You cried all the way back home, tried to call your mother but it kept going to voicemail. You must have called someone else, but you don’t remember and couldn’t care less to check your phone—the whole day went by like a blur.

Then, there’s a sound. An insistent buzz, it’s the doorbell. You furrow your brows, not recalling ordering anything else other than the large pizza from Domino’s. Yet, it doesn’t cease, and you’re forced to bring yourself to stand on your feet, instinctively flattening your tousled hair to make yourself seem somewhat presentable. Like, you’re doing fine and you have everything completely under control. Maybe, you did call your mother, and she’s at the door. You’re hoping she is although she’s going to kill you for the mess.

Another buzz and you’re toddling across the wooden flooring and towards the doorway. It’s starting to become infuriating by the second, like a house fly don’t won’t stop bugging you. Considering the mood you’re in, it doesn’t take much to tick you off. Swinging the door open, you expected to see the radiant face of your mother but to your surprise, it’s not.

It’s Bruce.

Shit.

You haven’t seen him in two weeks.

You nearly choke at the sight of him in a slightly crumpled oxford blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair as much of a mess as yours and tired eyes staring down at you with concern. You note how Bruce is very charming, no matter how disarrayed he is. Meanwhile, you’re realizing the current state must be a little startling. Your eyes are probably bloodshot, hair still in a tangled mess and glaring tomato stains everywhere on your GCU t-shirt. This is such a low point for you.

“Bruce,” you say, voice raising an octave with wide eyes as you stare at him like he’s grown another head, “What are you doing here?” His frown is immediate, seemingly confused by your question. “You called me.” He gestures to his phone within his grasp. “It sounded bad even though I couldn’t make out what you were saying half of the time,” He chuckles and holds up a familiar looking paper bag “So, I got you bagels. Three of them. Thought you could use some of these.”

It takes a second or two for you to finally process what he just told you before your emotionally wrecked brain decides to do the most irrational thing ever—You just start sobbing. You’re crying so hard that it terrifies Bruce. He blinks, thoughts racing. The sight of you in complete misery strikes him like a punch to his gut and for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do. Not immediately. Yet, through glassy eyes, you manage to notice the way his face dropped and morphed into pure horror. Justification is key, you don’t want to weird him out and think you’re crazy. You wave your hand in the air dismissively, rubbing your eyes as you spoke between strangled sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day and that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me all week.”

Oh.

Your words are a tug to the heartstrings, and it sends his head reeling but relief was all that overwhelmed him. Bruce would never wish to see you hurt, especially when it’s caused by him. Actions of affection were primarily reserved for those closest to him, but he never experienced the urge to be intimate and care so much for a person ever since his parents died. Yet, out of everyone, you’re the one that brings out the most in him. Moving closer to you, he reaches and pulls you in a hesitant embrace. You stiffened at the mere touch of his arms around you, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Sure, you had a fair share of intimate moments with the man but this, this was different. You couldn’t shake the thought of how something so warm felt so right, smelt right. Despite the fact you had been trying to suppress your feelings for Bruce, and this was doing the exact opposite of that, you can’t help but feel this was what you needed at the moment. So, you let your body sag, muscles becoming loose and you let yourself truly cry for the first time.

You end up inviting him in later, when your tears are dry. You eat two of the bagels, sharing the last one with him. You called a peace offering, a gift of appreciation, for the whole emotional massacre you unexpectedly shoved at him. He simply laughs, eyes crinkling with fondness. He thinks you’re beautiful, especially when your hair is wild, laughing like you don’t have a care in the world. It’s what keeps him grounded, to know you’re raw and very real. The next thing you know, you end up shuffling cards of UNO until the wee hours of the morning—exchanging knowing smiles and Bruce trying to pick a Wild Draw card from the deck to get you to lose. But, he lets you win anyway.

He slept on your couch that night, still in his dress shirt. You must've peeked a glance at his sleeping form, squeezed onto the couch that’s clearly too small for him. Cute. You snap a picture before heading to bed. For blackmail purposes, of course.

-

You end up working a night shift at a burger joint called Big Belly Burger somewhere in midtown. Your first week comes and goes, and you’re starting to hate how your uniform itches and how the restaurant can get really filthy by the end of the day. Yet, it’s the kids from Cameron Kane High that come after school that keeps you going because it makes you miss being a teacher even though they tend to leave a mess after a meal.

Thursday comes and you’re exhausted. Even so, you’re thankful it’s a slow night. You’ve done all your cleaning duties earlier on and Lucie, the manager went out to buy a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store around the corner. Hence, it’s just you, slumped against the counter, devouring a Triple Belly Burger.

You’re half way through the burger when you hear the door swing open. Expecting to see Lucie, you turned around to see two men brandishing handguns your way. “Everything from the register, now!” The taller masked man shouted, gun gesturing to the cash register. Your eyes are wide, and you can feel your chest heaving. There was no way you’ll be able to fight them. Not two of them with guns pointed at you.

The burger drops from your hand and so does your heart. With trembling hands, you slide the drawer of the cash register open and begin pulling out dollar notes. From the corner of your eye, you spot your phone on the counter, close enough for you to make an emergency call. Your eyes scan the two men wearily and with every ounce of courage you had left, you managed to unlock your phone, pulled up the messaging app and texted the first name on the list: Bruce Wayne.

help, was all you managed to say.

To say your luck ran out was an understatement; you were never lucky anyway. One of the robbers must have caught on to what you were doing and just as the call goes through, he snatches your phone away, throws it onto the ground and shoots it.

So close, yet so far.

You don't know if the message got through.

The muzzle is now inches away from your forehead, and you hear the cock of the gun. “Don’t you dare pull somethin’ funny like or I’ll blow your brains out. Give us the money, now.” It was in that moment, your tears give way and your life flashes before your eyes. You pray for a miracle, a savior.

Then, you see him.

A looming figure appears by the doorway and your breath hitches. It’s Batman, looking like a Goddamn angel. The robbers seem to realize this too, guns quickly directed towards the vigilante. He launches batarangs to the pair of men and immediately disarms them. In a flash, he knocks them out, unconscious bodies dropping to the ground like dead flies.

You stare at him in awe although he’s very frightening and intimidating but Batman...just saved you. Now, this is a story you’re going to be telling everybody until the day you die. He approaches you with caution, and you instinctively take a step back. Then, he calls you by your name like it’s second nature. You stare at him with blank amazement, brows raised.

“You know my name?” Your voice dwindled; It’s so soft and timid you hardly hear yourself. Despite the mask, the vigilante looks like his brain just short-circuited for a moment. He clears his throat.

“...Bruce has mentioned you.”

You ignore how his synthetic voice makes every hair on the back of your neck stand and the familiarity that struck for a split second when he said your name because you’re too wrapped up with the fact that Bruce has discussed about you to his other ‘best friend’ as one might call it. Brooding over this lump of a thought, the corner of your mouth twitches. “He did?” you say with a hint of affection. It’s hard to read the man under the mask, whoever he was but you’re certain he looked taken aback by your response. Maybe, it was the way you delivered it—the longing in the very core of the expression. You may have outed your feelings for Bruce to...Batman.

This doesn’t get any stranger than that.

“Yes,” he replies curtly, and you hear the police sirens afar. “Are you hurt?” Like the true caretaker of Gotham, he wants to be sure you haven’t been injured. You shake your head, lips pressed together. The whaling of the police sirens grow louder, lights of red and blue flashing before your eyes. He appears like a shadow against the glaring lights from the police cruisers and before you can blink, he flees with a muttered ‘Goodnight’ and disappears before the police come flooding in and does Lucie. The poor woman looked at with frantic eyes as soon as she glimpsed the two men on the ground, groaning in pain.

The glint of the batarang on the floor captures your attention, you smile at this.

You may or may not have taken it back to your apartment that currently sits proudly on the bookshelf in your living room.

You’re so telling Bruce.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[gallavictorious]

Mickey Milkovich is Dead (and also a magpie)

You ever think about Mickey as a magpie? No? Well, if you wanna, read on –

Say Mickey gets hit by a car and dies somewhere between 1x03 and 1x07 (NO DO NOT WORRY THIS IS NOT SAD AT ALL I PROMISE). Say he comes before this deity / spirit / what-have-you who declares that Mickey has been a bit not good in life and is about to be sent something unpleasant but he’s so very young and also they can see that he has the potential for goodness so he’s going to get a chance to learn to…learn to love? Care for others? Embrace his true nature? Something like that. Anyway, as a test, his soul is being put into the body of a magpie for the duration of one month and during that time he is required to take care of and protect the person who was supposed to be his one true great love, Ian Gallagher. If he gets Ian to care about him in turn, he'll go to a nice afterlife place. (Yes, this is all very Beauty and the Beast. Deal with it.)

Cue Mickey spluttering about not being fucking gay and even if he was he wouldn't go for that scrawny redhead, also newsflash spirit person, Gallagher is dating my fucking sister, and how the fuck's a magpie supposed to protect anyone anyway, why not make him a pitbull or a fucking tiger, etc, etc. The spirit person obviously doesn't pay any heed to Mickey's outraged rant and hey presto! It is a bird!

Magpie Mickey's first instinct would probably be to fly the hell away from everything, but he's just a little bit curious about why the hell that idiot spirit would claim that Ian Gallagher is supposed to be his one true love. Okay, sure, the kid is pretty cute, he guesses, Mickey's always got a thing for red hair and freckles, but he's always seem like a bit of a pushover, soft, so what gives? (Also, if the guy's into dudes, why the hell has he taken up with Mandy? Mickey's not gonna let some closeted homo hurt his sister. Yeah – that's it. He's out to protect Mandy, that's all.)

Aaand you can imagine how it goes, as Mickey starts following Ian around and keeping an eye on him to figure out what the appeal's supposed to be. He soon finds himself getting a little bit intrigued, 'cause it seems Gallagher is actually kind of funny and smart and not anywhere near as soft as Mickey first thought? Also, yep, he's very, very gay, but it seems Mandy knows all about it so maybe Mickey doesn't need to pick his eyes out over it...

One day Mickey spots Ian being followed by some local lowlife, seemingly picking Ian out as an easy mark, and when the villain moves in to put a knife to Ian's neck Mickey's immediately in his face, talons out and beak at the ready. (Why? 'Cause Mandy would be sad if something happened to her fake boyfriend, obviously. What with their mum running off and then Mickey dying, she's got enough to be sad about already.) Mickey scares the would-be robber off, but maybe he catches the knife to a wing and is a little bit hurt and Ian has to nurse his unlikely saviour back to health? Brings him home and researches how to care for a wild animal – and it's weird but the bird doesn't seem all that wild, he's skittish but kind of docile and Ian knows he's just imagining things but it's like the magpie can actually understand every word he's saying?

Mickey finds himself reacting VERY strangely to Ian holding him so gently and then telling him he's being so good, he's doing so well, just a sec and Ian will be all done.

And then... they're friends. Ian now has a bird companion that kind of of just hangs around? Fiona won't have it in the house but Ian, with Debbie's help, makes him a cozy nest outside and bribes Carl into leaving the magpie alone rather than catching it for one of his experiments and brings Mick scraps and yeah, being a magpie fucking sucks but it doesn't all suck, maybe.

Ian tells Mickey all sorts of things, things he's never tell another person. Confides in him, complains about being in Lip's shadow, talks about his dreams and ambitions. Mickey thinks he should find it annoying, the way Ian won't shut up, but to his surprise he doesn't mind? He likes listening to Ian's voice. No one's ever wanted to tell Mickey things before. No ones's ever looked at him like they're happy to see him.

Mickey starts following Ian to school and to work, and when he sees Ian with Kash he is not pleased (because it's fucking disgusting, Ian getting with that old dude, not because he's fucking jealous or anything). Maybe starts doing shit to disturb them whenever they're making out, like attacking the door or, if he makes it into the shop, picking stuff up with his beak and tossing it around, ripping into the chip bags, shitting all over the register (or all over Kash). Ian's upset, but he's not that upset. “You're a fucking asshole,” he tells Mickey that evening, once Mickey's (not at all guiltily, but maybe a little worried that Ian will be pissed) makes it back to the Gallagher back porch.

Mickey's not sure why Ian calling him an asshole in that exasperated, fond tone of voice feels so right.

When Ian worried over the family being low on cash Mickey takes to brazenly swooping down and stealing bills right out of people's hand just as they've drawn them from an ATM. (That's actually really fucking funny, and Mickey keeps doing it just for shits and giggles until animal control is alerted and he almost gets caught.)

And then one day Mickey hears an unfortunately familiar voice calling his name from a great distance, Mikhailo, because the month is up and it's time to go, Mikhailo, and no, what the hell, he doesn't want to go, fuck heaven, he wants to stay with Ian, but he is fading, fading –

BOOM! He wakes up in a hospital bed because SURPRISE he isn't dead after all, just slipped into a coma after the car accident, but now he's awake, and it was all just a dream! (Yes, you bet your sweet ass I went with that cliche. Would you rather have Mickey be truly dead? Uh-huh. Didn't think so.)

Once he gets out of the hospital and back to his normal, shitty life, Mickey – for no particular reason, fuck you very much – decides to give school another shot, so he shows up for class and during lunch break he doesn't seek out some weakass kid to steal lunch money from, but just so happens to find himself in the vincinty of one Ian Gallagher.

Gallagher is watching him warily and when Mickey asks for a cigarette – asks, rather than punching Ian in the face and taking the packet out of his pocket – he looks downright startled. But he pulls out a smoke and hands it to Mickey and then they stand there in silence and this is awkward as fuck and Mickey is cursing himself, what the hell is he doing, it was just a dream, he doesn't actually know Gallagher, so why –

He notices that Ian is turning his head this way and that, as if he's looking for something.

”You expecting someone?” Mickey asks gruffly, for something to say.

”No, it's just, there's this bird that's kinda been following me around, but I haven't seen it since last night and... ” Ian trails off, shaking his head a little sheepishly as if realizing that what he's saying sounds insane. ”Never mind.”

Mickey doesn't say anything, but as he drags the cigarette smoke down into his lungs, he can feel his heart beat just a little bit faster, with sudden hunger and hope.

”You, uh, wanna do some shooting practise together after school?” he dares. ”Know a good spot.”

And Gallagher looks startled as fuck again – confused and maybe a little bit worried, like he thinks it's some kind of trap – but after a moment, he shrugs. ”Sure.”

(Oh, and since I am extremely against any notion of eternal damnation and the like, that spirit was never some guardian of the afterlife. If you want to imagine that it wasn't all a dream, imagine that she was some mischivious South Side spirit who'd gotten a little bit fascinated by Mickey and pulled some magic to give him a glimpse of a better life and a kick up his gay ass while he was in a coma. Well done, that spirit.)

[blossom-hwa]

Arc [Drifting Apart] - MARK |Swing!|

This part contains a lot of the events of Spiderman: Homecoming, though the timeline has been changed so Civil War happens after Homecoming, not the other way around! There are spoilers for Homecoming! Read at your own risk!

Again, thanks to @deathbykpopboys​ for inspiring this series :)

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, Spiderman!au

Triggers: a lot of cursing, mild violence, PANIC ATTACKS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS (I in no way meant to romanticize these triggers. If you feel I did, please let me know and I will fix it.)

Word Count: 8.4k

Petty spats and overreactions threaten to tear a decade-old bond apart.

Attach >> Arc { 1 - Drifting Apart | 2 - Coming Home } >> Fall { 1 - Spiral | 2 - Rise }

NCT Masterlist | Swing!

After two months, the small earpiece wedged into your skin still feels weird and hurts if you keep it in for more than a few hours at a time. Pausing on a rooftop, you reach up to adjust it for the fifth time tonight.

“We really need to fix this thing,” you mumble under your breath.

For a few silent minutes, you swing between buildings, keeping a close eye out on the streets below. Your black hood flutters around your head with the soft breeze.

Queens is quiet at night, much quieter than the always-bustling streets of Manhattan. You love patrolling, not just because you can help people, but also because of the peaceful silence that follows you as you swing through the crisp air. It’s a quiet rhythm, one that’s comforting during the dark night.

Crackling sounds in the earpiece just as you land on a rooftop to catch your breath. Seconds later, Mark’s voice fills your ear. “Two streets down from Jaemin’s apartment.”

“Give me four minutes.” Leaping off the building, wind begins whistling again as you swing your way over to Mark.

You notice him before he sees you, the blue of his outfit visible on the roof against the black backdrop of night. His red hood pools around his shoulders, his head covered in a matching mask.

(The first time you watched him put it on, you thought you’d die of laughter. He returned the favor when you tried on yours. Even now, the sight brings a slight smile to your face as you soundlessly jog over the roof to stand by him.)

Behind his mask, you can see a faint smile of greeting as he points down. “Break-in,” he whispers.

Looking closely, you can see the vague outlines of several people, at least two holding guns. Your brain leaps into overdrive, determining the best way to end this as bloodlessly as possible.

“I’ll take out the guns and try to immobilize their hands,” you whisper. “Knock out anyone you can, and we’ll web them up afterward.”

Mark nods. The two of you drop down.

The would-be robbers barely have time to look up before you’ve descended upon them, lashing out with your legs to kick two in the head. “Did you know this neighborhood is haunted?” you taunt as they fall to the ground, groaning. “Seriously, that’s what my friends told me. Maybe you’re ghost hunters? But why would you try to shoot a corporeal being?”

One of them grabs for the gun they’ve dropped, but you quickly kick it out of the way. “I don’t think so!” you sing, flipping him over your shoulder. He lands on his head, then flops over, unconscious. His friend doesn’t get a chance to blink before a punch to the side of his temple knocks him out. “Stupid,” you mutter, webbing them to the wall.

DANGER DANGER DANGER –

You duck. A bullet flies over your head and buries itself into a nearby trash can. There’s a muffled shout at the other end of the alley. A cracking noise sounds, and the final two men drop like stones.

Success.

You pick up the gun you kicked away. You’re about to just crush it under your foot, but something about it makes you look twice. Where a bit of the gun’s paint has been scrubbed off by its encounter with the ground, there’s a subtly glowing piece of metal that doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen.

“Mark?” You gesture at the weapon. “What…?”

He frowns in the darkness, raising a tentative hand to touch the glowing patch. “That’s weird.”

“Where are the other guns?” you ask. Mark picks up their crumpled remains. They’re normal – you’ve seen those types before. You look back at the weapon you’re holding.

Besides the glowing metal, you detect other small differences in shape and size. This one is slightly bigger than the other two, with a smaller bullet hole (does it even shoot bullets?) and a larger trigger. The paint obviously isn’t professionally applied – you easily scratch some of it off with a fingernail.

“I think we should take this and look at it further,” you say, turning it over in your hands.

Mark nods. “You think it could be something remaining from the Battle of New York?”

It’s certainly plausible, you think. Metal doesn’t glow on this planet, not even vibranium. Vibranium shines, yeah, but glowing is something completely different. You don’t think it was one of the weapons the Chitauri used, though. Maybe someone took the space material that the aliens brought in and manufactured a weapon with it.

Your stomach sinks. What if there are more?

Your watch beeps in the silence, signaling half an hour before Johnny gets home from his late shift. “Time to go.”

Releasing a string of webbing, you quickly climb up the warehouse wall with Mark following closely behind. In fifteen minutes, you land on your apartment rooftop, where you share your thoughts with Mark.

He doesn’t look very comforted by the idea of more of these things being out there. The two of you don’t even know what it does, and you’re not keen to find out. Once you’ve swung through the window in your room, you stash the gun in an empty corner of your closet and cover it with some old clothes.

Your black and white outfit gets shoved underneath your mattress, while the web shooters go inside your underwear drawer. Despite the fact that there’s a possibly alien weapon inside your room, a wave of exhaustion crashes over you. It’s all you can do to climb into bed before you pass out.

. . . . .

A normal day goes like this. Mark will fall out of bed to his alarm, drag himself past his snoring aunt’s bedroom to the shower, and snatch an apple or some other small breakfast in the kitchen before heading down to meet you for school. The train ride will pass, he’ll greet his friends, and then walk to homeroom, where Mr. Lee takes attendance.

(Thomas isn’t his homeroom teacher this year. Even though Lee is considerably stricter, Mark still thanks his lucky stars for the change.)

After school, he’ll take the train to either Professor Tuan’s lab or home, where he’ll work or do homework for a few hours before it’s time to patrol.

The day starts mostly normally. Mei isn’t snoring when he goes to take a shower, but it’s just one of those rare mornings where she isn’t sleeping on her back. He meets up with you and his friends like usual, and besides the history pop quiz he didn’t study for, the school day passes quickly. You tell him you’ve figured out nothing about the weird glowing gun you found last week, and the two of you resolve to just destroy it.

Everything, by all accounts, should be going fine.

But despite all of this, he feels uneasy. His weird sixth sense-reflex thing keeps randomly sending subtle pulses of danger, danger, and he doesn’t know where the danger fucking is. It pops in at the most inopportune times – on the walk to the train station, during PE, even as he walks past the other offices in the university building to get to Dr. Tuan’s lab.

And yet said danger doesn’t manifest when he goes to the local deli for a sandwich. It doesn’t show itself in front of a chemical engineering lab labelled “Dr. Roberts.” It doesn’t appear when he leaps on to the rooftop to meet you for patrol, either.

He relays his irritation to you as you swing through the darkening streets of Queens. There’s a beat of silence on your end, and then you admit that you’ve felt the same. “I honestly just thought I was going fucking crazy,” you say.

The two of you swing around in silence for a while before Mark’s earpiece crackles loudly (seriously, the crackling is really annoying and he needs to get around to fixing it soon) and your voice floods his ear. “Robbery at the ATMs near Delmar’s deli.”

Mark immediately changes direction, doubling back to meet you outside the bank. Four people are inside, faces covered in Avengers masks (seriously?). Several weapons rest on the ground.

Not just any weapons, Mark realizes as he looks closer. They’re weirdly shaped and they glow.

Much like the one that you hid in your closet.

“Weird, right?” you whisper from your hiding spot.

Mark nods. “Well, let’s see what we can get from this.”

The two of you slip inside the building soundlessly. The room is kind of cramped, which will make it difficult to fight in, but destruction is almost guaranteed in a situation like this.

He looks over at you. You nod.

One man goes down quickly, stuck to the floor with Mark’s webbing. Three other Avengers masks turn around – Mark sees Thor, Iron Man, and the Hulk – and the place descends into chaos.

“Forgot your PIN?” you snark, leaping onto the ceiling. You quickly kick Thor in the face as he lurches forward, leaving Mark to pin him to the ground. A couple of web shots later, and he’s immobilized.

(Mark doesn’t know how you magically come up with comebacks and punchlines for every situation. He’d give up just about anything to be as witty as you are.)

You’ve flipped back onto the ground and are now engaged in a fistfight with Iron Man (“Why the fuck is Iron Man robbing a bank? I thought you were a billionaire?”). Mark turns around to find Hulk and is met face-to-face with the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

“What the fuck?” is all he gets out before Hulk does something and the weird, metal, three-pronged thing starts glowing. Purple light shoots out of the prongs and engulfs Mark.

It’s the weirdest thing he’s ever felt. He still has control of his limbs – he can wiggle his fingers – it’s just that the light has more control, somehow. Mark tries to lash out and hit something – stick to the wall, grab an ATM machine, anything – but the light keeps him loose-limbed and useless.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you still fighting Iron Man, who’s now picked up one of the weapons discarded on the floor. You dodge the first blast of purple light, then use webbing to lift yourself up to avoid another.

Webbing.

He’s so stupid.

Mark forces his arm out and shoots a string of web fluid to the far wall, yanking himself out of reach of the three-pronged light thing. His feet lash out, kicking Hulk’s mask. He lands, crouched on the door of the ATM building.

Iron Man somehow breaks out of your fight and races to the door. Mark’s eyes widen and he throws himself out of the way of the glowing thing –

And then the fake Avenger uses the light to literally carve out a section of the wall, including the whole door and the entire corner of the deli across the street.

Mark yells, narrowly avoiding another errant blast of light and kicking the guy to the floor. “Mr. Delmar!” he yells, racing across the street. Behind him, he hears some more scuffling as you keep trying to take down the last two robbers, but he’s only focused on making sure Mr. Delmar and his cat are all right.

“Mr. Delmar!” The corner of the building is burning, and there’s no water to be seen. Mark launches himself into it anyway, thankful for his sweaty mask filtering out some of the smoke. With relief so strong it burns, he spots Mr. Delmar stumbling out of the store’s back exit, his humongous cat in his arms.

“Are you all right, Mr. Delmar?” In the moment, Mark doesn’t care if the deli owner recognizes his voice. He just needs to know if he’s okay. After a few seconds of coughing, Mr. Delmar nods. “I’m all right, Spiderboy. I’m all right.”

Spiderboy? Really?

Well, you and Mark never really came up with names for your alter egos. Maybe you should have.

But not now. Someone’s called 911, and he can hear the fire trucks and police sirens starting to converge on the area. There’s no water in sight. He can’t help out anymore.

Just in time, you burst out of the ATM building carrying something in one hand. “Let’s go!” he yells, webbing himself up a tall building nearby. The thwip of your own webbing follows, and then the two of you are racing across the rooftops back home.

“Holy fuck,” Mark gasps once you’ve reached your apartment building. It’s only midnight. You usually patrol until around one thirty, but Mark feels too shaken to fight at the moment.

You repeat his sentiments, sinking to your knees. One hand burrows into the pocket of your hoodie and pulls out something purple and glowing. “This broke off from that weird glowing thing one of them used to… control you?” You look at him, unsure. He just shrugs, not wanting to remember the experience. “It’s made of the same material as the gun I destroyed earlier.”

“This is definitely not just a one-time thing,” Mark groans. His legs start to wobble and he sits down too as you crush the object in your fist. “How many people do you think are involved with this… alien weapon stuff?”

You shrug helplessly. “At least the four people we fought today, and the robbers we saw last week, maybe?” Your expression turns dark. “I think they escaped. I started fighting Hulk when the Iron Man guy just fucking tore down Delmar’s store, and then the sirens started blaring and I had to get out. When I looked back, they were gone.” An angry sigh bursts from your lips. “Hulk and Iron Man probably cut their two friends away and escaped.”

It’s a blow, but Mark takes comfort in the fact that the two of you and Mr. Delmar are alive. “Well, we’re alive. And now we know what to look out for.”

Humid air blows in the silence.

“I guess we have to figure this out?” you say. 

“Wasn’t aware that we were private investigators now,” Mark teases, pulling his mask down slightly for some fresh air.

“Wasn’t aware that people wanted to make weird glow-y weapons out of alien materials either,” you snap back, doing the same.

Mark laughs a little and squeezes your hand. “Let’s just go to sleep,” he says. “I don’t think… neither of us are in a state to do much more patrolling tonight.” His weak knees and stinging throat agree.

You do too, clearly, because you get up without complaint. “See you,” you murmur, ready to climb down to your window.

He waves, wondering what the universe will throw at you both tomorrow.

. . . . .

“Are you going to homecoming?” Jihyo bounces up to you at the end of the day, eyes wide with excitement. “This year’s theme is Harry Potter!”

You blink. “Since when was the homecoming theme announced?”

Jihyo cocks her head in confusion. “Yesterday, in homeroom?”

Your brain holds no recollection of that. Then again, you weren’t paying attention to the announcements. Mark’s new design for the earpieces was taking up most of your focus at the time. They’re pretty good, you think – you can’t wait to try yours on tonight.

“Um, I don’t know.” You shrug. “When is it?”

“In exactly three weeks.” Jihyo grins widely. “I’m going with Daniel! You should come with Mark.”

Something in you curdles as memories of last year crop up, when people thought you and Mark had broken up even though you were never dating in the first place.

Mark is your best friend, nothing more. Why would you go with him?

Plus, last you heard, he had a crush on Lia, one of the girls on the Academic Decathlon team. If anything, you’ll push his cowardly ass to ask her instead.

You feel a twinge of something that doesn’t feel good when that thought runs through your mind. The fact that you can’t put a name to it just makes you feel even more irritated than you already do.

“Maybe,” you reply unconvincingly, closing your locker. “I don’t have a dress.”

If anything, that just makes Jihyo grin wider. “I can go dress shopping with you! Lia and Yeri wanted to get new dresses too, so we can all go together!”

You try to smile. “Thanks. I’ll, um, let you know if I can go sometime soon, all right?” The bell rings, and you turn away right after catching her nod.

Homecoming. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about between Wang’s lab, homework, AcaDec, and patrol, now you have to think about wasting one night to wear a fancy dress and watch the other people around you spike the punch or sneak sips of vodka in the bathroom.

You don’t even know if you have enough money for said fancy dress.

Johnny would probably tell you to go for it anyway. It’s your junior year already, so you be experiencing what Midtown High has to offer. He’d definitely find some way to afford a nice dress and shoes.

But you don’t want him to have to take more extra shifts at the office just for a dress. He’s done enough for you.

You sigh, slipping into a seat in the auditorium for AcaDec practice. Mark’s at the other end of the room, talking to Haechan and Jaemin, so you take the opportunity to put your head down and close your eyes.

It’s practice time. You will the irritation flooding your brain to subside. Even though you’re practically a shoo-in for the team, you still don’t want to run the risk of losing your spot to someone like Flash.

Mr. Harrison, the team sponsor, claps his hands and the talking dies down. You lift your head to see Mark and Lia walking over together, while Haechan and Jaemin take seats next to you.

Since when were Mark and Lia talking?

Actually, since when did Mark have the courage to talk to his crush alone without stuttering up a storm?

A slight smirk crawls onto your lips at the thought, despite the lingering irritation at the back of your mind. Mark looks over and frowns slightly. You good? he mouths.

You nod, smiling, then cock your head slightly in Lia’s direction. She’s at the head of the table now, since it’s her turn this week to read the questions. A small blush blooms on Mark’s cheeks and he starts to look uncomfortable.

Two emotions war inside of you – satisfaction at seeing your best friend flustered, and the other feeling from before that you couldn’t name. Before you can get distracted, though, Lia calls attention.

As she starts reading the first question, you push your feelings away. Emotions mean nothing in the face of AcaDec nationals.

. . . . .

Mark feels like he shouldn’t have come to this party.

It’s not just the fact that he doesn’t really like parties and feels kind of uncomfortable. It’s also that Lia only invited him, not you, and he kind of didn’t tell you the truth when he asked to call off patrolling today to be here.

He told you that he was sick.

He hasn’t been sick since the spider bite (which is a miracle in itself).

He could also hear the skepticism in your silence over the phone after he gave you that excuse.

Mark doesn’t even know why he lied. First, he’s a terrible liar. Second, you’re not stupid. Third, Lia holds really big parties, and you obviously knew that this one was happening.

All he does know is that you and Lia don’t exactly coexist peacefully in his mind. He likes Lia – definitely a bit more than as a friend – but you’re his best friend, his rock, the person who’s been there with him throughout everything.

It kind of feels like he has to choose between you two, and he really doesn’t like that.

So here he is, standing in the corner of the kitchen with a cup of (definitely spiked) punch in his hand that he’s yet to take a sip of. The noise level is a bit lower here, which is nice – he nearly got sensory overload when he walked into the living room. He mindlessly scrolls through his phone with his other hand, its light shining on the web shooters still around his wrists.

Even though he isn’t patrolling tonight, better safe than sorry.

“Mark!” Lia’s voice turns his head. She pops into the kitchen. “You made it!”

“Yeah.” He smiles as best he can, giving her a quick hug. “Thanks again for inviting me.”

Is that a blush on her cheeks? Mark can’t tell if it’s that or just the lighting leaking in from the living room. “Well, you aren’t usually at parties.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.”

Mark doesn’t really know how to reply to that. After a short but awkward silence, he just gives a sheepish smile and a “sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry!” Lia laughs, her infectious cheer returning immediately. “Why are you here, by the way? Let’s go to the living room, that’s where all the fun is!” And before he can stop her or stutter an excuse to stay, she’s taking his wrist and dragging him into the chaos.

Mark’s feet stop at the edge of the crowd, but Lia’s take her to the middle. She’s a really good dancer, he can tell. She actually moves to the beat, while the others mostly just hop around weirdly.

But he doesn’t really like dancing, even though it’s fun to watch. The crowd is also pressing into him, making him feel uncomfortably claustrophobic. Lia’s smiling at him, obviously trying to get him to join in, but the music is too loud and the smell of sweat and alcohol is too heavy and before he knows it, he’s holding up his phone as if that’s an excuse and racing out of the house.

Outside, the air is warm and heavy, but there’s an underlying breeze that cools Mark’s cheeks and soothes his mind. His feet don’t stop once he’s left the house, and he keeps walking until he’s reached the sidewalk just in front of the lawn.

No one’s here. Everyone’s inside, dancing or drinking or wreaking havoc. Mark takes several deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, before he feels calm enough to think properly.

Looking back at the house, he doesn’t really want to go back. Mei gave him enough money to pay for an Uber back to the apartment, but he doesn’t feel like going home either. Instead, he memorizes where Lia’s house is and starts walking.

The quiet of Lia’s neighborhood is somehow very similar but also very different from his own. There’s the same susurrus of crickets and the wind blowing through trees that makes Mark feels somewhat like he’s at home, but it’s a much more peaceful quiet. Here, it feels like nothing while happen. Meanwhile, on his street, there’s always something ominous about the silence. Like something could very well explode any second.

And then something does explode.

It’s pretty faint. If it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, Mark probably wouldn’t have heard it. He turns around, frowning.

He’s actually walked pretty far from Lia’s house. Here, the houses are a little more run-down, and there’s a broken fence in the direction Mark heard the noise. Upon closer inspection, it doesn’t seem like he’d be trespassing if he jumped over.

Maybe he shouldn’t do it. Mark’s fingers run over his web shooters. He’s pretty sure he could make it out of a fight alive, but he only has his hoodie to cover his face. It might not be enough.

(The fact that he wore a hoodie to a party is a testament to how much he doesn’t know about parties.)

Another small explosion sounds, followed by faint voices. Mark pulls up his hood, tightens the strings so that only his eyes are visible, and leaps over the fence.

To his surprise, he’s actually wandered into the large field just outside Jaemin’s neighborhood, next to an old abandoned building that a lot of kids play in. It’s good. If he needs backup, you’ll know where to go.

Doubt strikes him. He told you he wasn’t patrolling tonight. If he calls on you, you’ll know he lied about being sick.

Well, you already know. This will just confirm it.

Suck down your pride, he thinks. If he finds that he’ll need help, he’ll take yours. Even if it means revealing that he lied to you.

Some would say he’s too worried about all of this, that he’s making a big deal of nothing. But it’s you. He’s never really held any secrets from you, and on your end, you’ve always told him everything as well.

Enough. He shoves his thoughts away and starts crossing the field. Running just makes him realize how convenient swinging is, and by the time he reaches one of the trees surrounding the field, he’s extremely disgruntled.

He leaps into the tree. Just beyond the field, purply-blue light shoots out of something and knocks out part of the abandoned building. One man crosses his arms, displeased, and asks for something more “low-key.”

This is a weapons trade. And the light from said weapons is dangerously familiar.

Fuck.

Mark calls you without really thinking. You pick up on the second ring. “Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Can you get to the field just outside of Jaemin’s neighborhood?” He leaps into another tree, closer to the explosion. “There’s… three men. And a van. And…” He sucks in a breath. “The van is full of those glowing weapons.”

There’s a beat of silence on your end. Then – “I thought you were sick?”

Mark winces. “I’ll explain later. Promise.”

You sigh. “Give me ten minutes.”

. . .

Nine minutes later, you’ve leapt into the same tree Mark’s hiding in. Your face is covered by your mask, but he can already sense the suspicion and disapproval radiating from your hidden expression. He winces again, but it disappears quickly when you see the van.

“Shit,” you mutter.

Mark likes the way you can sum up situations into one loaded word.

“Stay out of sight for a bit,” you say. “You don’t have a mask, so it’ll be easier for them to identify you if they see you.”

He nods.

“I’m going to try to take out the one in the van.” You point to one man, who’s poking around the back of the vehicle. “Wait no, the other guy has a gun. Fuck…”

“I’ll take out the gun,” Mark whispers. “You go with the guy in the van.”

You purse your lips under the mask. “Okay. You said this is a trade, right?” Mark nods. “If you can, follow the guy who’s supposed to be buying. If we don’t get answers tonight, I think we’ll have to ask him some questions later. Meet me back at the apartment roof.”

“Got it.” Mark stretches out his arm. “Ready…”

“Now.”

His aim is perfect. The gun wrenches itself from the man’s holster just as you leap from the tree, entangling your guy’s legs in webbing.

“This was a set-up!” Mark’s guy yells, rounding on the buyer. The buyer quickly raises his hands and begins denying the accusation, but the other man pulls out another gun and whips it between Mark’s tree and the buyer.

You’re still tussling with the guy in the van, who’s picked up one of those three-pronged things Mark had to deal with and is now aiming it at you. There’s no way you can turn around to help.

Mark’s just decided to jump out of his tree too when you’re thrown out of the van with a blast of purple light. You get up quickly, but by that time, his guy has jumped into the van too and is revving the engine.

Then, because you’re fucking nuts, you shoot a web into one of the open back doors. The van starts driving away, dragging you behind.

He almost yells your name before he remembers that’s not a good idea, but a gasping shout still escapes his throat. You turn back just as the van starts speeding up. The message behind your masked face is clear.

GO.

The buyer starts sprinting away. Heart in his throat, Mark follows.

. . . . .

Covered in muck and dirt, you swing onto your apartment rooftop. You must look slightly unhinged, because Mark actually takes a small step back.

“Are you… okay?” he asks tentatively.

“No, I’m not fucking okay,” you snap, ripping off your hoodie. Your shirt is just slightly damp underneath, but it still stinks. “First, my best friend lied to me about being sick for some reason I still don’t understand. Second, I got roped into a mess because said friend found some criminals when he was supposed to be sick and apparently needed my help. Third, I was actually about to beat up said fucking criminals before a flying vulture man just fucking snatched me off the top of the weapons van, tossed me around in empty fucking air, and then dropped me into a goddamn fucking dumpster.”

Silence falls on the rooftop. You’re still seething – mostly because of the stupid vulture dude, what the fuck even was that – but Mark looks so guilty and upset that you start to feel sorry for yelling at him.

“Look, Mark.” You rub a hand over your face before remembering said hand was covered in muck until a few seconds ago. Ugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just really mad about the vulture guy and losing the van, and I’m definitely still upset that you lied to me, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, I’m sorry too.” Mark shuffles his feet a little. “I… Lia invited me to her party at the last AcaDec practice. I didn’t really want to go, but she looked so hopeful that I decided to. She didn’t invite you, and it just felt like it’d be really awkward if I told you about it, so I told you I was sick.” He winces.

Irrational anger boils in your chest but you force yourself to breathe. “You shouldn’t have lied, Mark.” You cross your arms, but your voice remains steady. “You should’ve told me. Why didn’t you think I would understand?”

“I don’t know.” Mark is starting to look frustrated, which makes you even more upset. It’s mostly his fault you’re in this situation now, anyway. “It always seemed like you didn’t like Lia very much.”

Well, that much is true. But how dare he say it out loud?

“Whatever.” You know you’re being slightly (really) petty, but you’re covered in dumpster juice and you think you have the right to be angry. You also really want a shower. “You don’t need to sneak around to be with your crush. It’s fine by me. Just go.”

“Y/N, that’s not fair,” Mark protests. His face twists up in anger.

“Yeah, you know what’s not fair?” you snarl, holding up your ruined hoodie. “I had to go dumpster diving because you decided to lie about going to a party with your crush!”

“I didn’t know this would happen!” Mark snaps back. “And even if I’d told you the truth, we’d still have fought those guys anyway!”

You scoff. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have lied.” Your lips curl. “Next time, just tell me the fucking truth. You don’t need to hide your crush around me, and you know I hate liars.”

You don’t stick around for his reply.

. . . . .

After last night, Mark doesn’t really feel like talking to you. He realizes he was wrong to lie, but he’s also pretty sure you’re overreacting. And logically, that would be sound because you were spitting mad at the vulture dude (who he kind of wants to see in person. Is he a cross between a vulture and a human? Or does he just have metal wings, like Falcon?) and you were thrown into a dumpster.

From the smell of your clothes, it wasn’t a very clean dumpster either. If such a thing even exists.

But he doesn’t feel like apologizing, not unless you decide to as well. He knows he’s being petty. And he isn’t usually petty.

Then again, he usually doesn’t fight with you either.

He still waits for you in the apartment lobby, anyway. Mark doesn’t feel so pissed at you that he’ll leave all of your traditions behind. You look a little surprised when you come down, but you nod at him in greeting anyway.

The walk to the train station is silent but filled with awkward tension. As the two of you descend belowground, Mark remembers when people asked him if you two broke up last year, when you hadn’t even actually had a fight.

He wonders if people will ask him that same question again today.

Five minutes pass in the train before Mark can’t bear the silence anymore. “I followed the buyer to his house last night,” he says abruptly. “He’s not far from us. I heard someone call him Davis.”

“Oh.” You shift awkwardly in your seat. “That’s… good.” A beat of silence. “When do you want to go and talk to him?”

God, Mark hates this so much. He almost swallows his pride and apologizes right then and there, but self-righteous anger boils in his chest again and he gladly lets it reign. “We can try and tail him Saturday afternoon?” he suggests.

You shrug. “Fine by me.”

The day is awful. The awkward tension between you two is literally palpable, especially since you sit next to each other in every class you share. At lunch, Haechan and Yeri try to keep up some conversation, but it doesn’t last longer than ten minutes before the words dwindle away.

After school, Mark makes up some excuse about wanting to visit Professor Tuan’s lab. It’s not a lie, really – he’s not required to come by today, but Mark has been wanting to pick up some scrap metal for some time. He wants to see if he can upgrade his web shooters and make them a little less bulky.

You nod and let him go without saying much. That would hurt a lot more if he didn’t know just how awkward you have to be feeling as well.

Mark sighs as he walks through the university halls. He aimlessly looks around the doors he pretty much knows by heart now – Dr. Yang’s has a chemical burn on his nameplate, while Dr. Brook’s door is marred by thumbtack scratch marks from his children – but one of them still catches his eye.

Dr. Roberts.

He narrows his eyes. Wasn’t that the same lab that set off his danger sense the day he felt jumpy for no reason?

Mark checks his phone. It’s four, and Dr. Tuan usually leaves at five.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a look inside Roberts’s lab.

There are security cameras here, he knows. But he won’t be doing anything wrong. And even if he gets caught by someone inside – though he can’t hear any heartbeats or breathing, so he thinks that’s unlikely – he can just pretend he was lost.

His knock on the door remains unanswered. When he turns the doorknob, it’s unlocked. He steps inside.

It’s a normal lab. Beakers of oily stuff and spare pipet tips litter the tables, while expensive-looking machines crowd the floor. It doesn’t look suspicious at all. His sixth sense isn’t going off at all, so he’s not in imminent danger.

It doesn’t make sense. His danger sense has never been wrong before.

Well, maybe it was a fluke. Something could’ve been on the verge of exploding in the lab that day, which his sense registered, but nothing actually happened. Maybe someone contained the explosion.

Something tells him that’s not the case, though.

It doesn’t matter. Mark doesn’t want to be caught snooping, so he quickly heads out, making a silent promise to come back and take a look again soon.

. . . . .

Saturday comes too slowly and too soon. You and Mark have loosened up a little, but there’s still tangible tension in the air when you two come together. So as the two of you walk to the buyer’s house – Davis, you remember Mark saying his name – the silence feels like it’s eating away at your soul.

Add that to the fact that it takes almost eight hours for this Davis guy to exit his house, and you want to die.

Okay, so maybe you did overreact a little that night.

Fine. A lot.

But in your defense, Mark knows how much you detest lying. The justice system did enough of that to your family. He also has to know how much it hurts to think that someone so close to you doesn’t trust you to know something.

Look, you might not like Lia very much. You don’t know why – maybe it’s because she always looks so perfect and poised, and the fact that she’s really smart too. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s rich and you’re still struggling along in life.

It’s probably jealousy. But you don’t have the desire to unpack all that, so you leave that thought alone.

Yet if Mark actually liked her, you wouldn’t actively discourage it. As far as you can see, Lia’s a decent person. She seems to like Mark for who he is, and not just because he can provide answers to the homework.

It hurts that he didn’t trust you enough to tell you he was going somewhere with her. The two of you are in high school, for fuck’s sake. If he wants to date, he can date. Where’s the problem in that?

As the minutes tick by, you consider apologizing to Mark over your earpiece. But that feels too much like apologizing over text, so you resolve to find a better situation at some point.

(Who knows when that point will come.)

Davis finally leaves his house at around three in the afternoon. You tell this to Mark over your earpiece, and he immediately begins following as per the plan. He’s supposed to figure out where Davis is going and clue you in. You’ll handle the questions because most criminals know your voice already (it’s a side effect of yelling awesome witticisms during fights) and because Mark has a tendency to stutter with strangers and not sound commanding.

An hour passes before Mark tells you he’s gone to a grocery store and rattles off the license plate of Davis’s car. You swing into the parking garage just as Davis walks in, and a well-placed glob of webbing sticks his hand to the car trunk.

“The fuck?” is all he gets out before you walk into view, mask on. You don’t know exactly where Mark is hiding, but you trust him to get you out if things don’t go as planned.

“Hi!” You put on an annoyingly cheery voice, flipping up to sit on the roof of the car. “I’ve got questions about your trade deal with the glow-y weapons from the other night.”

The guy pulls at the webbing. A stab of pride shoots through you when it doesn’t let him go. “What the fuck is this?” he complains, pointing at the sticky glob. “Come on, seriously?”

You shrug. “Maybe I’ll tell you how to get it off when you tell me everything you know about that group of people selling highly illegal and dangerous weapons.” You pause. “Oh, and if you know anything about a weird vulture dude working with them, that would be great as well.”

He looks up at you, eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re not very intimidating, you know that, right?”

That… kind of hurts. Underneath your mask, you pout. “If you say so. But I can stay here all day. And from the looks of it, you have ice cream in your bags.”

“How did you know?” Davis looks at you weirdly. “You smell it or something?”

You shrug again. “Don’t worry about it. Are you going to tell me what you know?”

“What’s in it for me if I do?”

A deep sigh passes your lips. Do you have to spell it out for everyone? “Those weapons literally took out the entire corner of Delmar’s deli.” You wave your hands around for emphasis. “The entire fucking corner. If stuff like that gets into more people’s hands, things are going to be a lot more dangerous than they already were.”

“The fuck would you know about dangerous?” Davis scoffs. “Where do you even live?”

“The neighborhood five streets down from you.” Your voice turns flat. “You know, the one where my parents were killed by a rich family’s drunk son, and my best friend’s uncle was shot by a thief no one managed to catch.”

That shuts him up.

“Look.” You rest your cheek on your fist. “I started doing this –” you wave a hand at your mask – “because I didn’t want other people to deal with the same shit that we did. And if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’ll find out some other way. I don’t want those weapons in the streets. From what you said that day, I don’t think you do either.”

Davis sighs. “No, I don’t. I have a nephew in the area. Want to keep the place safe for him. The vulture guy’s a psychopath.” He looks into the eyes of your mask. “I know one of them. Charles Roberts. He’s not the vulture dude, but he’s pretty high up on the ladder.”

“Charles Roberts.” You repeat the name. Something about it feels familiar, but you’re not completely sure why. “Thanks, dude!” You flip off the car, ready to leave.

“Hey, what’s this?” Davis pulls at the webbing on his car. “You said you were gonna let me go!”

“Oh!” You turn around with your most beatific smile (even though no one can see it). “It’ll come off naturally in two hours.”

“I have ice cream!” he protests.

“I know!” You wave wildly. “Still a criminal!”

You don’t sweat it. Mark will definitely let the guy go, anyway.

. . . . .

Mark’s heart is pounding like nuts when the two of you sneak in Roberts’s lab under the cover of night. Just hours before, he’d almost had an aneurysm upon hearing “Charles Roberts” coming out of the buyer’s mouth. With a quick Internet search, he’d confirmed that Charles was indeed the first name of the professor who ran the lab that had given him the alert before.

Something makes him uneasy as you pick the lock. Sure, you’ve avoided all the security cameras as best as you can, and the lock opens quickly with a quiet snick, but there’s still a bad feeling in his stomach.

It isn’t like his danger sensor. No, there’s no imminent danger at the moment. He just feels… bad.

Thankfully, the enhanced sight that came with the spider bite allows him to see things in the dark much more easily than before. No flashlights means no increased chance of being caught. Aided by the dim glow of the emergency lights, the two of you start looking around.

Just like last time, Mark doesn’t find much at first. The beakers that littered the tables before have been cleaned and are now sitting in neat rows on a different table. Someone’s put the pipet tips into glass cabinets. A few experiments sit half-finished in incubators.

Then you find the trapdoor.

It’s underneath a huge machine that Mark doesn’t know the name for. If it hadn’t been for your increased strength, you probably wouldn’t have found it. Together, the two of you shift the device over and descend through the trapdoor.

Only to be immediately met with a blast of purple light.

Mark’s the second one in, so he doesn’t feel the full brunt of the attack. You drop like a stone, groaning, but Mark just feels slightly dazed. This light isn’t destructive, like the beam that cut through Delmar’s. It’s just… disorienting.

“Oh, it’s the spiderkids again!” someone says cheerfully. Mark rolls aside just in time for another beam of light to cut into the floor right where he was. He looks up.

A grinning man’s face meets his eyes. There are too many teeth in the smile. The eyes are cold and hard.

“You!”

Mark whips around to see you standing up slowly, clutching at your stomach like the light was something solid that actually punched your skin. “Fucking… vulture man!”

“This is the vulture dude?” Mark yelps before he can stop himself.

Mark can now see why Davis labelled this guy a psychopath. There’s no feeling in his eyes at all – just cold anger.

“And I thought I left you in the dumpster.” He lifts the weapon again. “Should I dump you there again?”

With a roar, you launch yourself at him just as two more men materialize out of the shadows. Mark immediately starts attacking, drawing their attention away as your fight begins.

Two flashes of light nearly blind him, while another nearly renders him immobile. He wrenches himself out of his daze, using his webs to pull himself onto the ceiling and drag one of the weapons away. Unsure what to do with it, he hesitates for a split second.

And in that second, the vulture guy decides to spread his wings.

You’ve got enough presence of mind to leap out of his reach, sending out jets of web fluid to trap the huge metal wings extending from a contraption on the man’s back. Mark hurls his weapon at the vulture, but he’s already crashing through the ground floor of the university, laughing loudly. Another crunch sounds faintly above and you swear. “He’s flown out of the fucking building.”

Mark turns around. The other two men have disappeared – where, he doesn’t know, because he can’t see any more openings here other than the trapdoor and the hole in the ceiling.

Something beeps ominously in the corner. Frowning, Mark looks over.

You come to the conclusion at the same time he does. “Bomb!” you yell, leaping for the trapdoor. You disappear from view, then a hand reaches down to help Mark jump out.

The beeping increases in volume and intensity as Mark jumps with all his strength. One hand grabs yours. The other releases a string of fluid, attaching to the wall just across. He scrambles out just as the bomb explodes.

His body hits a wall with a sickening crunch and he blacks out.

. . .

When Mark opens his eyes again, he’s in a darkened area just behind the university. Sirens blare, there’s a fire somewhere, and the sound of the explosion is still echoing in his brain.

“Mark?” Your face, frantic with worry, swims into his vision. He blinks, and your expression turns to one of abject relief. “Thank God!”

Air rushes past the skin of his face. Belatedly, he realizes you’ve removed his mask. “What happened?” he gasps out, trying to sit up.

“There was an explosion, and you got thrown into the wall.” You press your trembling lips together. “I got tossed away too, but I had enough time to react and sort of steady myself. I carried you out, but I couldn’t get us back home unless you woke up.”

The two of you watch in silence for a bit as a fire truck douses the flames. “Well, there goes our only lead,” Mark finally mumbles.

You sigh. “We’ll find another one.”

Doubt pushes through Mark’s muddled brain. “Should we?”

The look you give him is one full of confusion. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Mark finally sits up, resting his back against a wall. The cool night air helps clear his head, but it also makes his back feel more painful. “If we’re going to get into all of this trouble over it, should we really be the ones dealing with it? I mean, we’re only kids.”

“Mark, no one else knows about this,” you say, a note of anger entering your voice. “If we don’t figure it out, who will?” You scoff. “The Avengers? They only deal with world-scale stuff!”

“Well, maybe!” Mark snaps. “If it becomes a big enough threat, they’ll deal with it! We’re literally teenagers, Y/N – what else have we even done with this, besides make things worse?”

“What if we can make it better?” you yell. “You just want to leave it, even if there’s a chance that we could fix things?”

“Do you want to die for this shit?” Mark snarls.

Your eyes narrow to slits. “So you just want to give up.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Fine. Okay, fine.” You stand up and shove your mask back on. “Jesus. I can’t believe you. Fucking… doesn’t matter. I’ll figure this out on my own. Just stay home and do… fucking whatever.” You sigh. “Let’s go.”

Swinging back home is a nightmare. Between his slight headache, aching back, and the chill between you two, Mark thinks this whole experience might be worse than death. On the rooftop, you don’t even wait for him before climbing down the side of the building into your room.

Well, whatever. Mark stands by what he said before. All the two of you have done is fuck up – first the ATM robbers escaped, then everything got botched the night he went to Lia’s party, and now all the evidence of any wrongdoing has been exploded at the university.

Shit. Professor Wang’s and Professor Tuan’s labs are probably fucked up too.

The two of you can’t keep fucking shit up. He doesn’t want either of you to die because of a mistake. And if it takes his silence for you to realize that…

He can handle it.

[hs-devote]

2. S T A R T E R

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter :

In less than 30 seconds, the door bursted open revealing a man with fancy clothes, curly blonde hair, hands in his pants. Y/N never seen him in this company before. Harry sighed in disbelief, dialling Madeleine's extension immediately.

“Don't you know what function of the phone or fucking intercom is on your desk?! I didn't say I'd be available for another guests.” He hissed.

That blonde guy looking at surrounding, until his blazing blue eyes caught Y/N busy figure on the couch. He taking closer step to her, tilting his head. “I've never seen you before.” He spoke lowly. Y/N just offered a small smile.

“Hey, Harry. Is this your new birdie? You didn't tell me you got a new beau.”

2. STARTER

His words made Y/N face reddened, trying to ignore it.

“You almost never let a female to sit on your couch, always sitting formally.. in there.” He's teasing again, while pointing at regular seat. Y/N squinted her eyes, while Harry massage his temple. She knows this guy irritated him so much. “How many times to I have to tell you, you can't go straight into my office without warning. We never know if I'm busy-”

“Busy shagging this girl? Woah I think office is off a limi-”

“LUCAS!”

“Excuse me?!” Y/N screamed along with Harry. The man –who called Lucas by Harry– just giggling like a fool, but in one second the look on his face turned serious. “With your reaction like THAT, I believe even more.”

“Just.. just don't listen to him, Y/N. This is my cousin, Lucas. And Lucas, this Y/N, my assistant.” Harry was lost in his words, didn’t want to make the situation being uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Y/N muttered a nice to meet you – even Y/N didn’t like his first impression, she had to be polite by forcing a small smile.

“What do you want?” Harry's voice stern, glaring at his cousin – trying to balance his emotions. Lucas smiled wryly, “Firstly, I want to apologise to you and your lady. Secondly, did you check your phone? I didn't come to joking around. Except for earlier.”

“No, I was busy. Why?”

“Commonwealth decided to review the projects and there's possibility that we might.. lose the bid.” He asserted.

Another crumbling day for Harry.

Harry stared at his cousin in disbelief, then snickering. “You've gotta be kidding me.”

“If the worst scenario really happens, you should find substitute.”

“How much the bid worth?”

“Around £850,000.”

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, while rubbing his face. “Keep an eye to this. I'll think of another plan.”

Lucas nods, getting up from the seat. “I'll keep you updated. Get enough rest, you're overworked. Try to have fun for a while.” He tapped Harry's shoulder – winking at Y/N, then excused himself.

“Dear lord please get easy on me.”

Y/N heard Harry mumbling, she couldn't imagine how upset he is at the moment. Finishing the paperwork, she put it on his desk “I made a few points, there are something we can fix. The rest, we have to change the agreements in total.”

Harry was silent, no words came out. Until suddenly his head snapped, “Have you grab lunch? I need to clear my mind.” He asked, change the subject.

.

.

.

. Lunch break taking place at an Italian restaurant not far from the office. While Harry ordered pasta, Y/N was more interested in salads. London cool breeze this afternoon and vacant booths in the restaurant are something that she enjoyed for a moment. If she was alone to take a lunch, she didn't dare to eat in a fancy restaurant like this. She would go for Shake Shack, The Athenian, or Thunderbird – sometimes she likes to bring her own homemade food.

“I want to apologise for Lucas behaviour earlier. Sometimes he doesn't have control over his mouth –or whatever came out from his mouth.” Harry sighed, putting down his cutlery. “Meanwhile, he's one of the trusted people in Erskine. The most loyal employee I've ever seen.”

“It's okay.” Y/N mumbled, “I thought he was your friend. Never seen him before, not expecting a cousin or employee either.”

“Indeed,” Harry sipped his drink. “He's not having duty in here. He heads a branch in Manchester, but every two weeks he'll definitely come here.”

“Mr. Styles, can I ask you something?” Y/N ask quitely. Harry glanced briefly, smirking. “It's Harry when we aren't in office.”

She blushed, “Right.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I do not intend to ruin your mood, regarding the two agreements that you asked me to correct. There are a lot of weird things, if you want to change them, I'm not sure they would want to because.. If I could say, the agreements was favourable on their side.”

He just stared at her, bitting his lip. “Have you finished them?”

“If we can persuade them, our losses can be minimized. Everything will be okay if we do it right.”

“I hope so.” Sighing, he leaned in his seat. “Arrange the meetings, we have to talk to them as soon as possible.”

After finishing lunch, they both in rush to getting back at the office. When Y/N wanted to pay her meal, Harry beat her first. She refused, but he was insisted – he said it was small treat because he hasn't found her mistake during her work with him. Y/N thanked him when leaving the restaurant, promising to treat him a lunch the other day.

Canary Wharf that noon filled with people, some dressed up in their business attire, or common people who just want to grab lunch. It took a couple meters walking to the restaurant, so Harry didn’t use his car when he took Y/N out for lunch.

Harry was talkative person with meaningful conversation. From him, Y/N knew that Erskine actually has a sister company, but he didn't take care of it anymore since it had been sold by his father's friend.  Right now, Erskine is kind of arguably hostile to that company. His father was furious, but he couldn't do anything because it was his own fault after all.

“The name is Machtig, if you want to know.”

Having a good chat, a joke here and there, until someone hit Y/N from behind. She was stumbling a bit, but Harry was quick to hold her arm. It was a man, wearing a thick, worn-out jacket and black beanie. At first Y/N didn't really bother, but after realising she was no longer holding her purse. It hit her that man was running on her, most likely the robber.

“Hey!” Shouting, her legs start running after him. Hoping he didn't disappear in a sea of people. Harry was confused, chasing her slowly without knowing the reason.

“What's wrong?”

“That man stole my purse. I need to find him.” Y/N ran back, hoping to find that man. A little grateful for remembering his appearance, makes it easy for her. Having no care with some people curious eyes, Y/N kept run following her instinct –left Harry somewhere.

Her head snapped, seeing Harry was pulling the collar of the man she was looking for. Y/N walked to him, being able to hear what Harry say to him.

“It's not yours, mate. Give it back to me.” The robber was stubborn, not wanting to return it back. He still holding her purse tightly. Y/N took the initiative to pull his jacket, so she could take it, but luck was not on her side that day. As fast as lightning, he pulled out the pocket knife, leaving a small scratch on her arm. Blood was splotching from the cut, not much -but still hurts.

Seeing Y/N in pain, Harry pinned the man's hand down in his back, taking away her purse from him. Saving it securely behind his suit jacket. The robber managed to free his hand and giving Harry a  punch below his jaw. Y/N flinched, as Harry stumbling –while the man ready to give another attack, she quickly stand on his way. Ignoring her wound.

“No! Please stop! We just want my purse back!” Y/N shouted.  Taking a step closer, she could smell alcohol from his awful breath.

“Get out of my way!” Before he could reach her, Harry pulled her behind his back and this time give that man a good punch right in his face until he fall backwards, holding his seems broken nose. Harry's fist was tight with the veins popped up.

Something strange, despite his bruised jaw, Y/N felt that someone standing in front of her is not like regular Harry. Yes it’s Harry, but he was dark, more intimidating. When he look back – staring at her, she could clearly see his irises get darker than usual, his pupils dilated. Without warning, Harry pulled the man's collar and beat him up, everywhere. Face, jaw, chest, stomach. No matter he was bleeding blood and his action gathering more crowd.

“Harry, please!”

No response, still punching.

“Harry, stop! He's slowly dying!”

Again, still punching, no mercy.

“Harry!” Y/N grabbed his waist, holding him back so he couldn’t punch his opponent again. As if he didn’t hear her, he tried to let go of her hand, but she got faster by cupping his face. Forcing him look at her, “Harry, please stop. I'm okay. We're okay. He's dying, you could get him killed.”

He averted his gaze around, seeing people seemed to be talking about him. Y/N quickly turned his head, to look at her again. Comforting smile was drew on her face, “It's okay. We'll go, okay?”

When she turned around, she saw the man lying unconscious, silently praying Harry didn't kill him. Four policemen appeared before they both could go from the scene. The two of them lifting the man up with the help of paramedics who had just arrive, while the rest of policemen came to them.

“Excuse me ma'am?”

Y/N gave him small smile, “Yes, sir?”

They begin to ask about the scene that concerns them both and asking for information. Feel enough to hear her confirmation, they ask for Y/N phone number if they need to call her upon the accident later, and excuse themselves. She glance at Harry, because he hadn’t said anything. His stare was blank, still with darker irises and dilated pupils. It took her a moment to realised his hands were covered with blood, but the police never asked anything about it. Looks like they didn't notice, same as her who was unaware, the blood from her wound still dripping.

Harry suddenly wrap her wound with handkerchief, tighten it to keep the blood from flowing. Taking her hand in his, he asked her to leave. “Let's go.”

Arriving the Erskine building, they took another lift, direct to his office, not wanting employees to see his state. When they both passed Madeleine's desk, Y/N was one hundred percent sure she was looking at them both in utter shock, not daring say anything. All she knew, Harry's hand was still holding Y/N's, not knowing that her two colleagues were bleeding.

Y/N got a first aid kit and start helping Harry's wound first. But again, he beat her first, taking over the kit.

“Hey, let me help with your wound.” She said. He just silent, taking the kit out.

“Yours worse.” That's all he said. Y/N endured the pain while he help her, thankful that the wound wasn't that deep so it didn't need hospital stitches. During he bandaged her wound, she was looking at him carefully. His chocolate tousled curly hair, soft curls that fell on his forehead. Eyebrows, eyelashes, those eyes, and then nose, thin lips, cheekbones, jawline, and his small ears. This man was so pretty, so beautiful. Despite his rough act earlier, he was so delicate.

When his eyes flickered at hers, Y/N avert her gaze. He bandaged her wound neatly, she muttering a small thank you, appreciating his help. He refused her help when she took his hand.

“Let me help you, Ha-”

“I said, no! Don't you understand? Are you deaf?” He growled, voice heavier than usual. The earlier aura still dangling around him. Irises still dark meanwhile his pupils back to normal. To be honest she felt a slight pang in her heart, do not understand what's happening. He got up, leaving her alone with a loud bang when exited his office.

.

.

.

. From what happened a few days ago, Y/N still doesn't dare to interact much with Harry. Just talking and meeting him if necessary. He also didn't talk about that scene. Since the accident, it seemed his mood was still bad, he was more often issued a higher pitch than usual.

Sun shining blindly that noon. Upon her return from lunch break, some employees gathered together, seemingly talking about something. When Y/N passed by, she felt their attention follow her every step she take. She didn’t bother, thinking they're gossiping about unnecessary things.

“So, your wound because of that huh?” Madeleine, with the last name Brown –well, she just know recently– pointing at Y/N's bandage.

“That what?” Y/N didn't want to jump into conclusion that she know what happened, Madeleine might has another assumption.

“You were robbed while walking back to here, weren't you? The news with headlines – Harry Styles, the man of Erskine, got into huge fight – spread massively today. Some medias showing your pictures that day.”

She stare at Madeleine dumbfounded, didn’t know about this. Did Harry know? Her minds rolling on the few people she met in the corridor, it most likely they were indeed gossiping about her. About that accident. Y/N just shrugged, “I don't know if that accident will spreading everywhere.”

“I was surprised, it's rare for a robber hanging around in that area. As well as the pictures, how the hell the journalist got the pictures” She mumbled. “How's your wound anyway?”

“It's getting better, I think it can be removed in a few days.” Looking at her bandage, a small sign that always reminds her of the accident. Madeleine just nod, “I think the scene really getting into him, you know? I mean, he's more irritable lately. Did you know he fired three employees on the 6th floor yesterday? He even threw a journal right in front of them.”

She bulging her eyes, shocked. “I didn't..”

“Well, he was furious. But it was undeniable hot.”

“Get to work!”

They both flinched when someone barking behind them.

Speaking of the devil, it’s Harry Styles himself.

Madeleine nodded, walking back to her desk. He didn’t stop in front of them, continued to walk towards his office. Y/N stare at his back, then down to his hands. His bruised fist still look angry, although it seems already taken care of.

The time keep ticking until clockwise shows 7.00 pm. Y/N tasks today was awfully pile up, every single one of them were screaming wanted to get it done. Dead silent in her office increase her desire to  finished them quickly. She realise the office was getting dark, contrast with her view of London night sky that twinkles from buildings lights out there. Y/N was getting ready to go home until she realise the office next to her, Harry's office, is still blinding light.

Thanks to the sheer curtain, she still able to see Harry's figure still on his desk, hands holding his head tightly. For a slight moment, Y/N can see him gripping his head, veins poking, sometimes hitting his head with his fist. Worried about him, Y/N taking initiative to dialling his extension, keeping her eyes still on him. He didn't budge, letting his phone ringing. She tried to call his personal number, Harry had looked at his phone screen but didn't answer it. Lifting her bag, she headed to his office.

“Mr. Styles?”

No answer.

“Harry?”

Dead silent.

This time, she knocked his door. Still, no answer. Slowly, Y/N scanned her access card, the door opened successfully. Slowly, very carefully, she walks to Harry.

“Harry?” She call his name, in friendly way. She hopes he will soften a bit if she call him not with Mr. Styles

“What do you want?”His venom voice scared her, but Y/N was determined to getting closer to him. Step by step...

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

His head immediately snap to her direction, his face made her fear increase. Y/N swallowed, taking a closer step. In a flicker eyes, he stood up – walking to her, grabbed her hands – right in the wounds. She winced, hands trying to hold his hand away.

“What do you want?!” His boomed voice startled her. Y/N squeaked, while staring into his eyes. His eyes, a pair eyes she didn’t know. She wanted to scream, ask for a help. But there was only Harry and her in here.

“Harry, please. I don't intend any harm.” She whispered, almost crying.

“Harry? Harry you say?”

What?

She didn’t understand. Maybe he meant she should address him Mr. Styles. He opened his mouth again, but it wasn’t an anger, it was a wince. He let go her arm, and moved away. Keeping his distance from Y/N. He screamed again, in agony. Y/N comes near, but his hand prevent her.

“No, please no. Just.. just go home, please. It's getting late. I'll be okay.” His voice is gentle now, like his usual voice. Seeing his assistant didn't move any muscles, Harry's pleading again. “Please, I'm okay. You should go home, Y/N.”

Y/N just stare at him, nodding her head. “Get rest, Harry.” She left Harry alone, headed home. Her muscle feel stiff. She wants to hurry up so she can relax her muscles under the shower.

The following day, until late noon, there are no signs of Harry. His office is still the same as last night, a little bit messy. Y/N asks the cleaner to tidy it up, while trying to contact Harry on her phone.

To: Harry Styles

Good afternoon, Mr. Styles. Are you coming to the office today?

Less than five minutes, her phone buzzing. New message from Harry.

Hi, Y/N. I'm sorry I forgot to let you know I couldn't come today. Is there something important?

When Y/N just wanted to reply his message, her office phone ringing,

628 – Madeleine Brown

“Yes, Madeleine?”

“Hi, do you know if Mr. Styles will come? I have five lines waiting on him.”

“Oh, actually he just text me that he couldn't come. I think he's unwell right now. Tell them they can call back tomorrow, or leave a message. I will tell him later.”

“Alright, thank you.”

She hung up the phone, texting Harry back. Letting he knows that his client wants to meet him tomorrow, but she's not sure, offering to push it back. But Harry, as the hard worker he is, undertakes to meet them tomorrow, asks for her help to prepare, and asks her to send some finished documents to his email.

Lunch break, Y/N decided to take away a chinese food and chose to spend her lunch break in the break room. The queueing is not too long, but standing alone in a queue is quite boring. Y/N wants to take Madeleine with her, but she has disappeared first. While she's waiting her order, the ongoing broadcast news quite distract  her, showing news of the murdered that occurred last night on King's Road - Chelsea. The victim was lying on the side of empty road, with a stab wound in the hip. Unfortunately no sharp objects were found, there was no CCTV either. The Police are having a little trouble investigating it. All they can find out is the victim is a homeless thirty year old man.

Thanking the waiter after her order came, she walking back to office immediately. On the way back, she remembered the accident with Harry the other day, she just realise that she didn't get any call from the police. If they did follow up on that case, her or Harry should have been asked to be willing to be witnesses, right? . 

.

. Unedited. The first few chapter will be sucks.

Feel free to ask me anything here

[dontgotothenetherworld]

lydia x superhero reader

i convinced my parents that into the spiderverse is an xmas movie and watching it has given me inspo hell yeah. i’m not gonna do a spiderreader bc i kinda just want to come with a my own hero (although every possible type of superhero has been done before, so this is by no means an original superhero).

1318 words

cw: femreader. (brief) mention of sexual harassment. gun mention.

you were living the dream, or at least what you thought was the dream. you had a gorgeous girlfriend, you were getting good grades, and oh yeah, you were stopping crime with your magic which powers.

look, you didn’t mean to be a vigilante. but when you’re neighbor’s house is getting burgled, and you can do something about it... or when the class incel is making clearly unwanted advances on your friend... or when someone decides to pull a gun on the cashier at the local convenience store... or when, you get the point.basically, situation forced you into it, and you have to big of a heart to say no.

you got your super cool magical powers after you started dating lydia, so it’s not like you intentionally entered the relationship, knowing that you could easily hurt her or bend her to your will. oh that makes you sound like an evil and disgusting person, but you would never do that kind of stuff!

your powers! your grandmother gave you a necklace on your 16th birthday, telling you it had been in the family for generations. you put it on that night, to see how it’d look on you, and all of a sudden, you could bend people to your will. like, not a lot. you could do like a subtle shift in a person’s motivation. like, if someone wanted to punch you, you’d simply shift their motivation so that they’d want to punch right next to you. or if someone wanted the last donut, but you realllyyy wanted that donut, you could just shift their motivation so that, oh wow, they really wanted a blueberry bagel. hmm... a blueberry bagel sounded good, actually. yo know what? they wanted the last donut and you could get the bagel. but wait, there were multiple bagels and only one donut, and you were pretty hungry. they wanted a bagel again, leaving the donut for you, and they even handed you a bagel! how kind!

you didn’t use your powers for important things, though. and, unless it came to the last donut, you never used your powers on your girlfriend.

but one day, she started to get suspicious.

“y/n? where were you last night, again?” lydia asked.

last night? when a peaceful protest turned violent, the violence started by the police of course, and then suddenly turned peaceful again? “i was studying.”

“oh? you had a test today?” she asked.

“no... today’s a saturday. i do have a test on monday though, and boy am i stressed for that!” you lied through a smile. you didn’t have a test monday, your teachers weren’t monsters.

“oh? what subject?” she continued to question you.

“uh, chem!”

lydia furrowed her eyebrows. wrong answer. “that’s weird, you have a chem test on monday and tuesday? i thought your teacher was nice.”

“they are! it’s a, uh, two day test! yeah, there’s a lot to cover from this unit.” you started sweating. were the lights bright in here?

“the unit you started last week?” uh oh, she was on to you. i mean, she obviously was on to you, why else would you be having this conversation, but y’know...

you nervously laughed. would it be so bad to just... shift her away from this conversation? it didn’t mean you wouldn’t ever talk about it, you were planning on telling her... eventually, but you just didn’t want to now.

you touched the center of the necklace, and shifted her away from her suspicions, you forgot you’d need somewhere to shift it to, so she ended up talking about,

“personally, i don’t think birds in america are real. birds in other countries? 100% real. but american birds? fake, spies for the government. and the government sell the information to corporations!”

i guess that lydia’s suspicions of you and her suspicions of birds were close together in her mind.

“yeah! remember last week when we were talking about the new star wars movies, and there was a bunch of pigeons on the telephone pole above us? suddenly i’m getting a suspicious amount of star wars and star wars merchandise advertised to me on instagram.”

“me too! i don’t even like star wars all that much!”

this conversation was much easier to have. and this conversation led to another, and another, until eventually it was late enough that you wanted to go to sleep, but also to late that you didn’t feel like you could safely drive yourself home.

you shot your family groupchat a text, saying you were sleeping over at lydia’s, and you snuggled in closer to her. lydia being little spoon, as always.

the following thursday, you had just finished watching an episode of the good place, when lydia sent you a text, asking you what you had been doing that morning. you had actually been shifting a kid’s motivation to beat up their drug dealer, apparently they had been dealing some bad weed. definitely a reason to beat someone up on school grounds, with like twenty kids ready to post it all on snapchat. teenage boys truly do not think.

but you told lydia that you were in the library before school. you were friends with the librarian, so that could’ve legitimately happened.

however, lydia sent a screenshot of someone’s snap story. they had been expecting the fight to happen, but when it didn’t they posted it on their story, saying how underwhelming that had been. and in the screenshot, you could see yourself, touching your necklace.

shit.

“why are you lying to me?” lydia texted you.

“oh, i went to the library after that.” you texted back. your magical powers didn’t work unless you were physically close to the person.

“sure.” she replied. and she didn’t text you back for the rest of the night. but to be fair, neither did you.

the next week, after multiple other ‘shiftings’ as you had come to calling them, you decided you were ready to tell lydia.

you asked her out on a date, a dinner at the local italian place. if she took this the wrong way, pasta would make it better.

about halfway into your meal, you said, “lydia, i’ve been lying to you about where i’ve been and what i’ve been doing.”

she looked at you, confused, “what?”

“you know last monday, when the bank robber just suddenly dropped all that money and walked out, and i told you i was at home sleeping? i wasn’t. i was there.”

“why would you lie to me about that?” lydia asked.

“because...” you took a deep breath, “ because i didn’t know how you’d react to my powers. before you say anything, let me explain! this necklace,” you lifted up your necklace. “let’s me, um, i call it shift, shift people’s intentions, or their motivations.” you said, suddenly realizing how silly your jargon sounded. “i changed the bank robber’s motivations so he didn’t want to steal anymore. i’ve done that with a lot of people, to get them to stop doing violent or illegal things.”

“have you ever... shifted me?”

you sighed. so far she was taking it well, but here came the regrettable part, “twice. the first time was when you were about to take the last donut,” lydia started giggling, “the second time was when you started asking me about where i was, and i wasn’t ready to tell you about my powers yet.”

lydia reached out and grabbed your hand. “i get why’d you’d be scared, but i’m fine. i think it’s pretty cool, what you’re doing, and, yeah, i’d rather you not do it to me,but for donuts? and for when you weren’t comfortable talking about something? it’s fine, just don’t do it all the time.”

you breathed a sigh of relief.

now you could tell lydia all the thing’s you’ve shifted people to! oh it’s time for some fun conversation!

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy

[ericsonclan]

I am Darkness, I am the Night

Summary: Minnie continues to watch over the people of Gotham when she returns home one night and sees that Sophie is late.... She is never late.

Notes: Was watching @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale ‘s stream last night of Telltale’s Batman and it got us inspired to write a Batman AU one shot!

Read on A03:

It was far past midnight. The town of Gotham stood a bright beacon in the night’s presence. Never resting, never ceasing, never breaking free from the chain of crime. The vigilante crouched on top of a gargoyle stonehead staring down at the city below her. Her body felt exhausted; it was no surprise she’d had trouble sleeping over the last few nights. Fearful memories of the horrific night that had befallen her and her two siblings nearly seven years ago plagued her dreams. The images of her parents lying dead in the dirty alleyway, their eyes a vacant mixture of fear and nothingness. Their blood oozing from their bodies, slipping out and pooling in front of her feet while she tried to be brave. Her arms trembling as she stood there, the eldest of the children in front of her younger siblings. The gun slowly rising and pointing directly at her head and then… nothing. She always woke up in a cold sweat, her chest heaving and her brow furrowed and laden with sweat. She was nearing the age of twenty three and yet here she was still plagued by that tainted night.

“Minnie,” the earpiece crackled to life with the sound of her twin’s voice. “Minnie, I need you to focus.”

“Right, sorry,” Minnie shook her head violently and turned her attention towards the building she had been scoping out.

“Okay, now according to the information I’ve gathered it seems like it's a group of five that have infiltrated the Gotham City Bank. You’ll need to get closer to get their exact locations since I’m still struggling to bring up the cameras on my end.”

“On it,” The vigilante rose to her feet and with a gracious dive lifted up her arms, causing her cape to open and glide safely to the next point. She moved cautiously step by step until she was on the perimeter of the bank. Turning on her thermal vision she immediately picked up all members of the group. Two stood on the second floor, slowly pacing back and forth in their designated lookout spots, while two others seemed to be covering the front of the bank. The last member was busy stacking the cash and placing it haphazardly into the bags they had brought. They were nothing special. From the quick glance that Minnie had gotten that much was clear. This new thermal gear was quite impressive though; she’d have to thank Mitch and Prisha for that later. As for now, she had work to do.

Shooting her grappling hook she moved to the roof and carefully broke inside. Dangling from the ceiling Minnie watched her prey, careful for an opening. One of the men turned around, leaving his friend free to take out. With a well-timed shot the vigilante tied up the robber and knocked him out with ease. One down, four to go. Minnie moved over and quickly decided on another stealth takedown. Moving from spot to spot, she made her way to the floor before sneaking up behind the robber and chokeholding him. With a few seconds of pressure she felt his body go limp.

The second floor was clear, now on to the first.

She figured there was no need to be overly stealthy anymore. The robbers had failed to pick a time of day where they could’ve held hostages which made Minnie’s job much easier. Taking out one of her batarangs she tossed it, embedding it into one of the men’s shoulders. He let out a pained cry, causing the other two to look up.

“Holy shit, it’s the Bat!” One of the men’s voices wavered as he tried to get out his gun. But the vigilante was already upon him, sending a volley of punches and knocking him out. Dashing over she took out the injured one, leaving only the cash grabber left. A small clicking sound appeared from the vault. The robber held up his gun, his hands shaking.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll shoot!”

“Doubt it,” Minnie’s cloaked voice replied simply before dodging the bullet and running forward. Her hand grabbed onto the man’s arm then sent her fist up, crushing his elbow. He stumbled back yelling in pain until the vigilante gave him the mercy of unconsciousness.

Minnie stood over the unconscious body, her chest heaving slightly when she heard a whistle. Turning sharply on her heel, she noticed Catwoman standing there will a small pouch full of diamonds.

“Quite impressive, Batty,” She smiled teasingly at Minnie who seemed shocked for a mere second before her face hardened.

“Catwoman, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Who, me?” The cat thief walked over toward the vigilante, her hips swaying back and forth with each step. “I’m just treating myself.”

“That’s not yours to take,” Minnie lunged forward but Catwoman simply backflipped and looked back at the vigilante with a flirtatious smile. “Oh, but it is finders keepers. That’s how I’ve always been.” She looked up and down at the Bat. “We really have to stop meeting like this,”

“Then stop stealing, “ Minnie hissed, sprinting forward once again and throwing yet another punch.

Catwoman blocked it before sidestepping and appearing by Minnie’s right ear. “Now where would be the fun in that?” she purred into the vigilante’s ear. Her hot breath tickled the side of Minnie’s face, causing her to freeze for a moment. Catwoman was about to take advantage of that and slip out when Minnie grasped her hand, her grip tightening around the cat burglar’s wrist. The vigilante pulled her closer.

“You’re coming with me,”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Catwoman stared directly into Minnie’s eyes. She kept moving closer to the Bat and Minnie felt herself getting confused once again, her guard dropping as Catwoman’s face moved closer to the vigilante’s own. All of a sudden Catwoman reached toward Minnie’s hip and grabbed a smoke bomb. “But I'm afraid I can’t,” She bopped the vigilante’s nose before tossing the smoke bomb. Minnie backstepped but was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of smoke.

“Until next time - we’ll make it a date! But for now,” Catwoman shook her bag of diamonds, “I’ll be enjoying the labors of my work.” With that Catwoman disappeared without a trace, leaving Minnie alone and frustrated. She never could get a read on Catwoman and tonight made it even more unclear. But for now she needed to leave and return to the manor before the police arrived.

----

“You need to be more careful,” Tenn’s tone was serious as he applied the alcohol swab on Minnie’s side. She had just come back from western side of the city where a transport truck was on route to the prison when it crashed. It had taken her a while to take down all the prisoners that had been trying to escape.

Minnie let out a small hiss. “I know. I just didn’t see that knife, but I will be more careful, I swear,” Minnie looked up at her brother with an apologetic smile. Tenn stared into his sister's eyes before giving a nod, his usual kind smile reappearing on his face.

“Good. It’s just Sophie and I are always worried about you,” He moved to thread the needle, doing it with ease before beginning the stitches.

Minnie’s face fell. “I know,” she paused when she realized something. “Hey, where is Sophie?”

Tenn looked up from his work. “I think I heard that she was heading over to Violet’s place for a bit. But she did say she would be back by seven for dinner,” The youngest sibling glanced over at the tall grandfather clock that ticked away quietly in the room. “But it’s already seven.” Minnie could hear the tension and worry in her brother’s voice.

“It’s not like her not to text us when she’s running late,” Minnie felt her own fear bubbling up inside her. “I’ll call her as soon as you’re done patching me up.”

Tenn smiled and turned his attention back to his work. It only took a few more minutes for the stitches to be complete and the wound bandaged. Minnie ruffled the top of her brother’s head and gave an appreciative smile before walking over to her phone. With a few button presses Minnie put the phone up to her ear, hearing the dialing tone beep again and again and again.

“Hey there, sorry I missed your call. Knowing me it’s probably because I’m busy painting, eating or taking a nap. But leave a message and I’ll get you after the-” A beeping sound emitted on the line. That’s weird. Sophie’s phone rarely goes to voicemail.

“See ya later, Vi,” Sophie gave a final friendly wave to her friend. Violet quickly gave a wave back before shutting the door to her apartment. Sophie turned and started making her way to the exit, a happy bounce to her step as she strolled out to the street. It had been a really pleasant and chill time with Violet. It always was with Violet; she seemed to be doing well. She’d been happy, a soft blush on her face when Sophie had brought up Prisha. She told Violet the honest straightforward truth. That she should go for it, and Sophie really hoped that she would. The two would be good for each other.

Sophie pulled out her phone and cursed under her breath. It seemed like the trains were down which meant she would have to walk home. She should’ve just taken the car like Tenn had suggested. Oh well, Sophie stuffed her phone back in her pocket. I shouldn't be too late for dinner. Maybe if I’m fast enough, I won't even be late. With that thought in mind to fuel her determination she strode forward, excited for what was sure to be a fun dinner with her siblings and delicious food.

“Damn it,” Sophie shook her head. There was no way she’d make it back in time, even with cutting through the alleyways. Her eyes looked down at her phone screen that read 6:58 on the screen. She’d have to text Tenn and Minnie and let them know what happened.

“Excuse me,” An unnerving voice appeared from behind her. She felt her blood run cold. She knew that voice. She had heard it over Minnie’s earpiece not that long ago. It was Joker.

Spinning around, Sophie felt a wave of pain enter her gut as a warm, wet sensation flooded her chest. Looking down she noticed the gunshot wound. The blood was already seeping deeply into her clothes. She tried to steady herself but fell flat on her back, causing her phone to get knocked out of her hands. Barely moving her eyes, she glanced over to see that it was out of reach. The Joker let out a maniacal laugh as he ran his fingers through his greasy green hair. His pale skin made his brown eyes and red lips stick out more prominently on his sunken face. His lips twisted into a wicked smile. “It’s such a shame,” He strolled over and hovered over Sophie who was gasping as she tried to stop the bleeding to no avail. The blood was slipping through her fingers. “You seemed to be in such a chipper mood. But!” He gestured to himself, “Just think about how happy I’ll be when I see the Bat’s reaction to the death of someone she cares about.”

Sophie’s lips quivered as she tried to summon her courage but the fear must have been obvious in her eyes as the Joker's smile grew with slow, low chuckles. The smile disappeared for a second, however, when he heard Sophie’s phone play a bright and happy tune. It buzzed energetically against the cold, hard pavement. Sophie’s eyes widened when she looked over at the phone. Desperately she tried to get the Joker’s attention back on her.

“I-I…” Her voice was shaky.

“Shhh,” Joker put his finger to his lips. “I’ll take care of this. You don’t need to worry,” He pulled out a cane and sent it crashing down against the phone, cracking the screen. He hit it again and again until it was destroyed beyond repair. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. Your death. It’ll be too boring for me to watch and wait. So I’ll just have to drop by tomorrow to see just how broken I’ve made the Bat.”

With a twisted chuckle he disappeared down the street, twirling his cane before tucking it away and disappearing down the street.

Sophie felt her heart pound in her ears and she looked over at the remnants of her phone. Short, fearful sobs left her lips. She had to find a way to live. She couldn’t leave Tenn and Minnie. But it felt so hopeless.

Minnie’s fingers dialed the number again. A slow trickle of uneasiness started to dwell within the redhead’s heart which was only amplified when she got sent to voicemail again and again. Something was wrong. Had Sophie run into trouble? Had she come across one of Minnie’s enemies? The very thought sent a shiver down her spine. Wordlessly she moved to the Batcave and put on her suit. Tenn appeared, out of breath, a minute later.

“Minnie, what-”

“Sophie may be in danger. Can you pull up her last known whereabouts based on her phone’s GPS?”

Tenn immediately ran over and with frantic typing pulled it up. “Looks like she was in an alleyway near the center of Gotham,” Tenn pointed to the screen, his finger shaking violently. Minnie put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze before putting on her mask. Jumping into the Batmobile, she headed straight to that location. She parked a few blocks away, jumping the rooftops before landing in the right coordinates. Her eyes searched the alley below frantically until they noticed something. Minnie’s heart jumped up to her throat, her breath short and rapid as she looked at the sight before her.

“Sophie!” Minnie landed next to her sister, her eyes darting back and forth at the pool of blood that covered her twin and the weak movement of her sister’s eyes. “Fuck,” Minnie pressed her earpiece. “Tenn, called an ambulance and send them to this location.”

“Is Sophie….” Tenn’s voice cracked and faltered out.

Minnie didn’t answer. Instead she placed her hand firmly on her sister’s gut where the bullet had entered.

“Minn…...ie,” Sophie’s head flopped over as her eyes tried to find her sister’s.

“I-It's going to be okay, I’ve got you now, just hold on,” Minnie tried to put on a brave smile for her twin.

Sophie smiled sadly up at her twin. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Just focus on staying awake, okay?” Minnie snapped, her voice shaky. She needed to be strong for Sophie. She needed to make Sophie believe she would be fine. Because she had to be fine.

Sophie gave a short nod, tears started to fill her eyes. “I love…..” her head fell to her side. Her eyes shut and her body went limp.

“Sophie! Sophie! Fuck!” Minnie felt her hands tremble as they became coated in more and more of her twin’s lifeblood. Please…. Minnie felt tears fall down her face and onto her sister’s. Don’t die.

Minnie and Tenn sat in the waiting room, both of them utterly silent and shattered by their fear. Violet, Prisha and Mitch showed up an hour or two later, all of them were shocked and worried for their friend’s wellbeing. They stayed by the siblings’ sides even though they were in no condition to speak. It was only after several hours that a doctor walked out towards them. Minnie and Tenn rose abruptly to their feet. Tenn’s hand gripped Minnie’s, both of them trembling as they waited for the news.

“She’s going to pull through,” The doctor stated. All of them let out a collective sigh of relief when Minnie noticed the expression on the doctor’s face. The doctor instantly felt the pair of eyes on him. “It’s still pretty early so it’s hard to tell, but it seems highly likely that she has lost both feeling and use of her legs. I’m afraid she may never be able to walk again.”

Minnie and Tenn felt their hearts stop, completely broken by the news. Minnie took a few shaky steps back and fell into one of the chairs. Her mind and heart struggled to accept the news.

Sophie would never walk again.

[minsimagines]

Rescue - part 1

A.N.: First story with more parts woho, this is kinda cute.  Characters: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: violence. Summary: Readers an innocent and slightly giddy person. One night her apartment is broken into, and her mysterious neighbor comes to the rescuse. Word Count: 3300. Part: 1. 2. 3. 4.

Y/N was a happy person, she really was. Everyone in the apartment building liked her. Nobody knew her per say, but they liked her. She always said hello, good morning, how are you – with that damn smile. There was only one person she did not smile at, and that was one of her next-door neighbors. She had smiled just as politely at him as the others, but he never said hello back, didn’t even smile. Barely even acknowledged her. He just looked down; his face covered by his hat. He had long hair and it looked like he could maybe use a shave. The man was giving out serious robber vibes.

Y/N decided it was best to just leave him be. If he wanted to be left alone, she would leave him alone. Only… he was kinda cute under that hat. The first time they had bumped into each other in the staircase, she almost fell backwards, and she would have probably broken her back if it wasn’t for the strong pair of hands that grabbed her. It was kind of awkward, you could say. He looked her dead in the eyes that day, and she saw his in the light from the windows. They were beautiful, but so… deeply disturbed.

He quickly pulled her up and let her go, turning and continuing down the staircase, disappearing around the corner. Y/N was left gaping. Was he not going to say anything at all? She didn’t even get the chance to say thank you – or, you know, sorry for being so clumsy. Maybe he was just in a hurry. She decided she would thank him another day. So, she did.

The next day she felt incredibly stupid where she was standing, in her apartment door, the door slightly open to hear if he was coming. She had already burst into the hallway 2 times and practically screamed thank you to some of the older residents on their way to their apartments. Giving them a little nod and a tiny ‘sorry…’.

When he did eventually show up, she carefully peaked through the crack in the door to make sure. Upon seeing him, she pushed the door open. He didn’t as much as flinch.

“There you are! I mean – Hello.” Y/N wanted to punch herself. She stepped towards him as he reached into his pocket to get his keys.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for yesterday,” she snickered at herself, “I can be quite clumsy.”

The man didn’t look at her as he pushed his keys into the lock. Y/N squinted her eyes.

“So… anyways. I’m sorry, if it made you uncomfortable.” She didn’t know what more to say now. He clearly didn’t care. He turned his head to look at her before entering his apartment and leaving her alone in the hallway.

Y/N pursed her lips. That did not go as planned. Turning on her heel, she ran inside her apartment, pushed the door shut and leaned against it. Embarrassment rose and she felt blood rush to her cheeks.

After that she didn’t say hello to him. She didn’t see him much, but when she did, she either turned and walked back to her apartment to wait, or she bowed her head and walked faster.

One day, Y/N sat on her tiny porch, playing a game on her phone. She didn’t really know how long she had been sitting there, the game was so addicting.

When she looked up from her phone, she realized the sun had gone down. She also realized there was someone on the dark porch of her robber-vibe but cute neighbor. He was looking at her. Y/N didn’t know what to do, she felt frozen as their eyes just locked for an eternity. She was wondering why he wasn’t the least bit shy about being caught staring at her, but that thought disappeared as butterflies were screaming in her stomach.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She wanted to say something, to grip the moment. Maybe he would talk now that he was seemingly interested in her existence. He looked down to the floor as his brows creased, and at the blink of second, he was gone inside. Y/N jumped out of her chair, almost knocking the little table over. She blushed at her rushed actions but couldn’t help it. He was scary looking, but they had been neighbors for half a year, and he hadn’t done anything. Literally. Nothing. Not even a hello.

As weeks went by, this happened a couple of times. She would, purposely, sit on her porch some evenings, and lo and behold; he would also come outside. He wouldn’t always look at her. He would sometimes be writing something in a book. At those times, Y/N was the one looking at him.

The same thought would always hit her. How mysterious he looked sitting in the dark on his porch, no lights coming from his apartment. Were they ever on? Y/N didn’t remember ever seeing lights come from his home.

This one evening, when Y/N walked out onto her porch, she was carrying with her a cup of tea. She had read that it could really cleanse your soul so she thought she might need some, for whatever reason one needs soulcleansing. She had stepped outside when she saw him leaning on the railing of her porch. He was on her porch. Y/N was many things, but controlled was not one of them. She was easily scared.

Her cup of tea went from full to empty in a second, and she might had been able to scream if she wasn’t so insanely shocked, that he was there. Tripping over her own feet, she almost went flying, but the man grabbed her arm.

She noticed his smell right away. It was cleaner than she thought, but still smelled like… gasoline? And… something she did not know what was.

“Holy shit!” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, she always did when she got scared by someone or nervous. “That was so… What are you doing- how did you get here?” She shook her head, why did she even bother asking questions.

“Never mind, you probably don’t even speak English, but that’s okay, I can speak plenty for the both of us.” Y/N shrugged and sat down on her chair, placing her now empty cup of tea down. Placing her hands on her knees she looked at him. Pursing her lips, which was a habit of hers when she thought something was awkward, she held her breath for a few seconds. Breathing out she leaned back, squinting her eyes at him.

“So. Since you don’t talk, I’ll just have to guess why you’re here.” Y/N looked him up and down, he was wearing seemingly normal clothes, but they just looked… old, or, well used.

“Are you here to rob me? Rape me? Kill me? Cause if you are, can you do it in the opposite order? Kill me first, then rape and then rob?” She was joking, but when the words left her mouth, she realized that… those things might be a possibility. After all, he looked pretty darn mysterious and robbery. She felt a lump form in her mouth as he kept looking at her, almost looking kind of… amused. The look in his eyes disappeared faster than she was able to read them.

He looked down at her legs and she almost felt like covering her body, but she didn’t really dare move that much.

“You should clean that up.” He spoke. His voice was deep and raspy, and quiet. But oh, so dominating.

Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sound and didn’t even register what he had said before she snapped out of her little bubble and looked down.

“Oh- jeez!” Y/N exclaimed as she looked at her once white joggers that were now brown from the tea. Abruptly standing up, she ran into her apartment to get some paper towels. When she re-entered the porch, he was gone.

“I’m so clums- oh…” she started but cut herself of as she saw he had disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her things and went inside. Closing the door, she turned the lights off and went to get ready for bed. Her mind was swirling with thought about him.

When her nightly routine was done, she slid under her covers and laid there. She hadn’t felt very tired before, but now she felt extremely sleepy. All she could think about was his eyes. And his, oh god, his voice. Honestly, he could turn out to be a real creep, this was wrong. But she thought that maybe he would have already done something to her if he was.

She drifted off to sleep as she contemplated with herself, only to startle awake by a creaking of the floorboards in her living room. She knew that often when you hear noises, it’s neighbors or something, but that creak was from her living room, by her tv. She knew the sound; it was a weird squeaky noise that always made her laugh. But not this time. Now, someone was in her apartment.

She looked at her bedside clock. 3.43 am. As she heard shuffling outside her door, her body felt paralyzed, and her mind was racing. She felt her blood rushing to her head, getting almost dizzy. She very slowly and as quietly as she could, lifted the covers off her body and listned for more sounds as she lowered her body to the floor on the side of the bed, sliding herself underneath.

Holding her breath, she just hoped they didn’t take her, her little hamster Popcorn or her new couch pillows. Everything else they could take as long as she lived.

The commotion grew outside her door, she heard shuffling and banging. Y/N held her breath and closed her eyes tightly and she heard her bedroom door open.

Robbery was something that happened in movies. It was never supposed to happen to her. Someone breaking into someone else’s apartment was just not something that would happen. But now it had.

As she heard more shuffling around her room, it went completely quiet for what felt like an eternity. Y/N tried to breathe as quietly as she could, but in her mind, she knew this would end badly.

She started praying to God, not that she really believed in him, but it felt right to say she was sorry for not praying earlier in her life, so that he might let her into Heaven when she now faces her death. As a hand grabbed her foot and pulled her out from under the bed, she screamed and thrashed.

“Shut up, bitch!” a nasty voice hissed at her as a man pulled her up by the shoulders and held her close to his body. Another man stepped in with some tape, covering her mouth. She kept making noise, but she was sure nobody could hear her now.

The man holding her started tying her hands behind her back as she struggled, trying to break free.

“Wanna have some fun, eh?” he whispered in her ear. Y/N shut her eyes tight and screeched as loud as she could with the tape on.

The other guy slapped her across the cheek, and she grunted in pain as her eyes filled with tears. She tried to plea for them to let her go, but it only sounded like mumbles.

They sneered and the other man took out a knife from behind him. He reached it out towards her stomach, using it to ever so slowly lift her t-shirt. The knife tickled her skin as goosebumps rose on her skin and tears fell out of her eyes. She felt it cut her skin and she grunted in pain, her body twisting in agony.

“Yeah, you like it rough, don’t you?” he grinned, showing his disgusting teeth. Y/N tried screaming again, only ending with another hit to the face. She shut up. Maybe if she just let them do whatever, they would leave her after.

She heard her front door open. Her eyes widened as she started screaming again, and this time she didn’t stop. She trashed and bawled her eyes out. The men dropped her to the floor as they ran towards the bedroom door. One of them peaked out of the door. He nodded his head to the other guy who slipped out into the hall.

The guy left in the room walked back over to Y/N who was trying to crawl towards her bed. He pulled her up by her upper arm and held her in front of him, his knife to her neck. As a fight seemingly broke out in the hallway, the noise only lasted a few second before a nasty squeal rang through the apartment and everything went silent.

“Ron?” the guy holding her yelled out, “Ron, you got him, right?”

Silence.

Y/N could feel the guys heart beating faster.

A shadow appeared in her bedroom door, and it was big, much bigger than these losers. She recognized it. And she didn’t know if she wanted to cry more or laugh. Her neighbor was here, and he had just beat the crap out of the other guy, but she didn’t know him. Maybe he was just here to finish her off in a more horrible way than these would.

He stood there, staring at the guy. His hair was a little tussled, and the sleeves of his shirt was pulled up. A little light from the bathroom shone on him and his arm shone silver.

What the hell?

The man holding her, pulled her tighter, the knife pressing harder to her neck.

“Let her go,” her neighbor said, in a very deep rumble. It was quiet, but they heard it clearly. Y/N was crying, desperately trying to hold still so the knife didn’t cut.

The man behind her stuttered, “O-Or what huh?”

Her neighbor stepped into the room and the guy cowered backwards almost tripping over something, and Y/N felt the knife almost tear her skin up. She tried not to sob, but she really wanted this to be over.

Her potential savior stepped even closer.

“Give her to me.” His voice was so… demanding. She couldn’t fathom how this guy holding her even dared to talk back. She could see his eyes in the slight moonshine coming through her bedroom window. They were on fire. He was angry. Controlled, but pissed. Almost annoyed.

The guy holding her was breathing even harder, contemplating what to do. He suddenly removed the knife from Y/N’s throat and threw her to the floor.

“There! Your precious bitch! Now let me go!” The guy yelled and ran past her savior. Y/N winced as she hit the floor, her body ached from both bruises and cuts.

Her neighbor knelt and gently brushed her hair out of her face.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered before disappearing out her bedroom. There was more squealing, and she shut her eyes tight. Humming to her favorite song, she tried to block out the sounds. It went quiet. After a good while of waiting, her neighbor re-entered her bedroom.

He untied her hands and gently turned her body around. He saw blood on her white t-shirt, and he had to take a breath to calm himself. Taking hold of the tape on her face, he gently pulled it off. Y/N immediately started crying again, rubbing her wrists before placing her hand on her stomach.

“I-it hurts…” she stuttered.

The man picked her up. She winced and gently pushed at his chest, wanting him to put her down.

“Stay still,” he mumbled as he carried her out towards her apartment door. She just watched as he carried her towards his apartment. He opened the door and stepped inside. It was very dark so Y/N couldn’t see much, but she saw it was very... minimalistic. There was a sofa and a table in the living room. He placed her down on it before disappearing into another room. He came back with a box of something, sitting next to her and pulling up her shirt.

Y/N was about to complain, but the look he sent her shut her up. As he started cleaning the cut on the stomach, he mumbled at her.

“You should’ve defended yourself.”

Y/N looked at him before rolling her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think of th- ah!” She yelled in pain as he pushed a little harder on her wound.

When he was done, he bandaged her up and moved to check on her neck.

“How can you even see anything here?”

“Be quiet,” the guy said.

“Can you at least tell me your name? So, I know who to thank.”

He sighed and looked at her. He seemed to be thinking hard. Y/N’s brows narrowed. Why was it such a big deal?

“… James.”

She was shocked at first. Just staring at him. She didn’t know why, but she found it comforting he had such a normal name. She had imagined some mysterious name to fit his image.

“How did you get inside my apartment? How did you know they were there?” Y/N was filled with questions.

James sighed again and looked down, “I heard you.”

“Yeah, okay, but how did you get in?”

He looked at her, “Porch.”

“You don’t talk much do you?” Y/N whispered, suddenly feeling very loud.

James was quiet as he put his things back in the box. Y/n reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze and as she went to rub his arm in a comforting way, she couldn’t help herself.

“What happened?”She asked him with a sad look on her face, as she felt the metal of his arm.

For a second, she thought she might have stepped over a real line and regretted pushing, but he shook his head.

“Long time ago.”

Y/N swallowed and pulled her hand back. She felt very exposed. Her apartment had been broken into and she didn’t want to go back. She wanted to make sure everything was fine, but she was scared. She didn’t know how to protect herself.

As he stood up and put the box away, she sat up, but winced at the pain in her body.

James came rushing back, almost looking scared. Y/N pretended she didn’t see it, as he seemed like a guy that didn’t want others to know his emotions. He stood awkwardly for a while, just looking at her as she gently touched her face and grunted as the bruises started to form.

“You can stay here.”

Y/N jumped at the sound. She hadn’t heard him approach her.

“O-oh, you sure? I can go back…” she lied; she didn’t want to. But she didn’t want to impose.

“Stay.” It was maybe meant in an assuring way, but it sounded like a demand, and she felt butterflies in her stomach again.

She patted the empty space on the couch next to her. He shuffled over and sat down. He looked at her with those mysterious and unreadable eyes again, and there were still some flames in them, but they were being replaced by something else.

“I… I want to thank you, but I don’t even know how,” Y/N looked down at her fingers, “I feel like I should do something, I-“ he cut her off.

“Don’t. I wanted to.”

Again, she was left speechless. Did this mean he didn’t hate her? Did this mean he maybe would say hello back from now on? She wanted to do more than just say hello. She wanted to know him, talk to him.

“Still… it means a lot to me,” her voice melted down to a whisper again as the shock of the incident was beginning to sink in, “I’ve never been through something like this… I- I don’t know what would have happened if-“

“They’re gone.”

Y/N stared at him. She didn’t want to know what he had done. Not yet.

She leant into him, resting her hand on his shoulder. It metal was hard, and chilled, but it was strangely comfortable. Her cheek hurt, but she didn’t care.

He didn’t move at first. But as she soon drifted of to sleep, he snuck his hand behind her back, pulling her into his chest.

[yeaaabudddy]

Moments of Realization

Ship: Peter Parker x You (Y/N)

Type: Fluff

Requested: Yes, by anon

Words: 2 525

Notes: Pre-endgame. Thank you for all the requests that have been coming in and thank you for waiting for your request to be written! I have a few lined up so don’t worry I will get to yours in time, Enjoy! 

-

Peter was really sloppy at keeping secrets so there were many times where he almost revealed his secret to you and one time he actually did.

-

You walk down the busy hallways of Midtown, finding your way towards Peter’s locker after you grabbed stuff from your own. His locker was the unofficial meeting place for you, Ned, and Peter.

You saw him alone, grabbing for his textbooks and approached him.

“Hey, Pete!” Your day becoming brighter by seeing him. He looked at you at when you said your greeting, smiling back shyly in response.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, closing his locker and walking with you towards your first period class that sadly wasn’t with him.

“Uh, not much to be honest, what’s up with you?” You asked, your life was pretty boring, just average teenage girl things. The extent of your problems went to how much work and amount of projects you had.

You swear the teachers don't even care that you have many more classes in the day and even more work to do for them. Only their class matters.

“Pretty boring. You know the whole student life, writing essays, writing lab reports -speaking of lab reports, I wanted to go over the lab we did in bio because I don’t really remember doing it to be honest, I have what’s in my notes but besides that I didn’t really see the reactions properly enough to remember because it’s been a week-”

Peter stopped for a second, trying to remember what your original question was before continuing on, “and oh yeah just the Stark internship stuff as well got me really stressed and it’s taking up a lot of my time.” Peter looked away from you for a second to mutter under his breath but you still managed to catch what he said as you moved your head closer to him to hear better.

You were confused at what he muttered but there was no doubt that he had said that he “had to remember to try new web fluid formula in class.” Whatever that meant.

“Web… fluid?” You asked in curiosity and slight disgust at what he could be talking about.

Peter stopped walking and his head whipped around in a speed you didn't know could exist in a person, his face only a bit away from yours made you both startled and move your head back a bit in surprise.

“Uh, I-i didn’t say Web fluid, I said- feb wluid.” Peter shut his eyes in disappointment as his face cringed itself up.

“Peter.” You completely faced him, knowing that this is a part of another secret that he’s been hiding from you. Lately, all he’s been doing is running away or sleeping and you don’t know what’s going on.

You used to hang out with him so often but now it's so hard to see him outside of school and sometimes even seeing him inside a whole mission. Him and Ned manage to meet up pretty often which makes you sad to think you’re being left out.

You naturally hang out with Michelle as she’s usually hanging around with the guys and she’s a nice girl you like to talk to. Meeting with her is also a mission though as she doesn’t really bother much with conventional girl hangouts and likes to do things with more purpose.

You always manage to get her to do some fun friend stuff though and you know she likes it too.

Peter’s mind was running 100 miles a second trying to find out what to say to you in order to make ‘Web Fluid’ not sound weird.

“Is this related to Spider-Man? You know because of his spider webs adhesive thingies?” You knew Peter was a fan of Spiderman even though he didn't really say it. His face showed proudness whenever he heard a story about Spiderman being talked about in front of him or on the news.

“Oh! Um, well you see... I- uh because I work for Mr. Stark, and Spider-Man is basically an avenger, I help him out sometimes!” Peter almost sighed in relief hoping that the lie was believable enough for you to not ask any more questions because he doesn’t know how much more his heart can take before he just starts telling you the truth.

You were feeling suspicious of Peter because of how jumpy and inconsistent he was being with what he was saying but the excuse of the ‘Stark Internship’ felt like a black hole that he threw everything at. If you ever asked Peter a question it was all about the Stark internship and he can’t tell you anything because it’s top secret information that can’t be leaked.

“Oh wow, so that fluid doesn’t come out of him?” You were surprised at the fact that the webs you saw Spiderman hanging off of on news coverage wasn’t actually produced by him. You don’t know if you’re disappointed or not yet. You both started slowly moving again towards your class, the room being only a little bit away now.

“Of course not! No!” Peter defended quickly, a look of disgust and fear in his eyes at the perfectly reasonable question you asked him. You shrug your shoulders.

“Hey, if he can stick to walls then why can’t he shoot web liquid out of his hands?”

“Because he can’t!” You just laughed at his reaction as you both finally reached your classroom now.

“Alright, I’ll see you in second period and hopefully later if Mr. Stark isn’t taking your time again. Bye Peter!” You wave and turn into the classroom as he waves as well, making his way a few doors over to his own first class.

Peter was saved this time.

-

“Hi, May!” May opened the door for you and you stepped inside the apartment to study with Peter for the biology test tomorrow.

“Hi! Peter’s just in the bathroom, go straight up to his room and Keep the door open!” You scurry up to his room because you wanted to get in as much studying as you could.

Entering his room was a whole problem in itself, it was a standard messy teenage boy’s room with clothes on the floor, his closet unorganized and his desk filled with papers from school.

You sat down on the edge of his bed taking off your backpack and putting it on the floor where there was empty space, you’ll let Peter clean up what he needs to before you guys start studying.

After sitting there for a few minutes, waiting for Peter got boring and from where you sat gave you a good view of Peter’s closet where a bright red suit caught your attention.

You didn’t really imagine Peter would wear a red suit on any occasion so to kill your curiosity you got up and walked over to the closet to look at it. Pushing the fabrics against your hand to reach the one that caught your attention, revealing the print of the suit,  

You hold in a gasp as your hand makes contact with a Spider print suit that reminded you so much of the web-slinging hero’s. At that moment Peter also came into his room about to greet you saw what you were looking at and froze.

Looking between Peter and the suit in your grasp, you waited for him to explain why he has this casually in his closet.

“Uh-.. i-” Peter realized he needed to start being more careful and to come up with more excuses fast because he can’t have anyone just finding out his secret like this. He didn’t know how to get this situation under wraps so he just thinks of what Tony would do in this situation.

Tony would come up with an elaborate lie that won’t let you ask any questions after that but if you try then to just flip the conversation and talk about something else.

“Well, you see- Mr. Stark, he said uh” He looked at your expecting face, waiting for an answer. “Yeah, he asked me to keep it and upgrade a software inside the suit and I didn’t want to keep you waiting so I asked to do it at home instead of… there -so here it is.” There was a silence for a few seconds and as he saw you open your mouth to comment on what he said he quickly averted his gaze and tried to change the topic.

“So, studying for bio right, what part did you need to study?” Peter started moving away the clothes on his ground, making space for both of you to sit down comfortably. The topic completely changed your thoughts as you immediately let go of the suit to sit down and bring out your notes.

“Thank gosh, I need so much help trying to memorize the order and structures-” Peter smiled in relief, knowing that you would be too preoccupied in studying to remember the Spiderman suit and for the first time he was thankful for having a Biology test tomorrow.

-

“Bye Peter! Bye Ned!” You yelled as you separated from them to go to your workplace instead of home. You had picked up a part-time job to earn some money and help out more at home.

“Bye!” They yelled back. You were nervous for your first shift but Peter and Ned told you that you had nothing to worry about. You took that to heart and told yourself that you can do it.

By the time the dreaded shift had come to an end, it was pretty dark outside as the season was changing and becoming colder, the days also became shorter. It became darker so much earlier, making you a bit intimidated by the darkness outside and having to walk alone through it. The job description of 4-9 seeming worse at that fact.

Making your way outside you started hearing strange noises and you started looking at the dark jewelry store located beside your place of work as you saw some movement in the corner of your eyes. You saw darkness moving inside and you realized that the shop was being robbed.

You pulled out your phone to call 911 and stood a bit behind the edge of the building, about to press the call button but then you hear smashing glass and went to protect your head with your hands instead. Making sure that if you were in the line of sight for the glass that you wouldn't get caught in it.

Your eyes turn to the scene and see a red and blue suit taking up your vision instead of the dark night that greeted you before.

You heard Spider-Man start talking to the robbers and his voice sounded eerily familiar to you.

The sounds of kicking and punching sounded throughout the store and when it stopped you went to go investigate what happened. If Spider-Man was here then you should be safe, right?

You stepped back into the vicinity of the store again, the front door opened -even though all the glass around it was broken- and a bell rang in the process. The door revealed Spider-Man coming out with a notepad and pen in his hand, him writing a note and sticking it to the door.

You didn’t realize that you were frozen in your place so you took a step, making enough noise to catch the attention of Spider-Man who was about to swing away. His head turned to look at you in surprise.

“Y/N- I-i mean... Hello young woman, what are you doing out he-” you cut him off when you realized why his voice sounded familiar when he got closer to you and him accidentally saying your real name sealed the deal for you.

“Peter?” you whispered, making sure not to say it too loud, looking around to make sure no one’s around.

“No- I-i Who’s that?” Peter’s unmistakable voice sounded through your ears and you made an annoyed face.

“Peter... “ Peter realized he wasn't going to get away from this. He knew that meeting you as Spider-Man would be a bad idea because you knew him too well and would immediately figure it out. He saw you there though in the dark night, your face illuminated by the street lamp and he forgot who he was for a second.

“Okay, look- I-it’s complicated.” Peter explained grabbing your arm and you looked at him a bit overwhelmed by learning Peter is Spider-man even though all the signs this week prepared you for it.

“Yeah, I bet. You’re Spider-Man!” You look at his whole suit a bit embarrassed about the comments you made about Spider-Man and his body to your friends now, knowing that your friend was in the suit.

“Okay, um can we talk in private.” Peter was nervous about you both talking out in the open, not knowing if someone was listening or not.

“Um… I guess, where do you wanna talk?”

“We can talk tomorrow after school at my house. Let me take you home though” Peter steps closer to you, extending his hand out to grab your waist. “Uh, can I?” You nodded and grabbed onto him tight, not really knowing what to expect at this awkward hugging thing that was going on.

“Hold on really tight okay.” Peter warned you before you nodded in response. He immediately zipped off, you both being held on by a string which scared the shit out of you. The wind blew on your face really hard, the cold night air flew right through your whole body. You squeezed your eyes shut in response to the wind irritating your eyes.

You grabbed on to him tighter as you felt yourself going down, feeling like it was a freefall and Peter was the only thing keeping you from completely falling down.

You didn't even realize how long you’d been in the air until you felt both of you stop moving. You noted that you were placed outside a window.

“Carefully just go through the window.” Your window was pretty tiny so you doubt both of you can go in at once and Peter also probably had to go as well.

You move to grip onto the window edge and haul yourself in easily. You turned to look at Peter -or- Spider-Man who was peeking through your window to make sure you're in there safe.

You were still not really digesting the fact that your best friend was Spider-Man. Seeing this was just so surreal but it made sense in a way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.” Smiling at him and he waved at you.

“See you Y/N.” and he was gone. The events replaying in your mind and not just because he was Spider-Man but because he was Peter.

It surprised you how much more confident he was when he wore the suit, you don't think Peter would put his hand on your waist in any circumstance if he wasn't Spider-Man.

This didn't stop you from remembering how it felt to hold onto him so tight and feel his warmth in the middle of the cold night.

[000609]

Fuzzy Brain

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 2.9k Warnings: - You never thought anything would happen between you and the boy who knocked you to the ground with his skateboard, but he thought otherwise.  or you kinda like skater!yeonjun and he kinda really likes you back. 

Yeonjun confused you.

Well more specifically, your relationship with Yeonjun confused you. 

A couple of months ago said boy was nothing but a quick glance to your right as you regularly passed the skatepark he always seemed to be at as you walked to work just a block away. The park was always dotted with people of all ages trying to master the sport, but Yeonjun had always stood out to you. Even with your untrained eye, you could see that he carried talent beyond the others. 

You never imagined your relationship to be anything beyond it, just quick glances that left you with momentary impressiveness that later escaped you as you changed your sweater for the orange polo shirt that was required for your job at a local supermarket. 

That was until Yeonjun crashed into you. Like literally.  

You still don’t understand how it was possible seeing as he always seemed to have such control of the board. If there was anyone you expected to crash into you it was the boy that sometimes accompanied Yeonjun but seemed far less experienced as he made wobbly tries to stand on the skateboard.

So when Yeonjun suddenly turned to someone you’d only seen quickly from afar to someone that literally sent you flying down to the ground and almost crying out of pain, it was inevitable that something would come out of it. 

It wasn’t exactly a friendship that developed that day when Yeonjun with profound apologizes and concerned eyes helped you up onto your feet. The conversation that day didn’t reach beyond an exchange of names along with more apologies, and neither did it develop the following days. What followed after was rather quick hellos with friendly smiles that was sometimes replaced with waves across a skatepark filled with boys and girls with scraped up hands. 

To you, your relationship with Yeonjun was nothing more really than acquaintances with a rough start, but you couldn’t help but to wonder if said boy thought a little differently about the two of you. A thought that was very loud and clear as you now sit on one of the benches facing the park, being one of two people in the grande audience looking at what Yeonjun just a few minutes earlier had declared a ”really cool trick he had just learned”. 

You glance over at the other person in the audience, the boy that never really seemed to figure out the puzzle of riding a skateboard even though he always seemed to be taught by Yeonjun when he accompanied him to the park. He had only introduced himself briefly as Kai before he had plopped down beside you and with intense eyes and a few snickers watched Yeonjun stumble around on his skateboard.

This day had been no different than others really. You had been on your way to work and as the park had come closer, you had subconsciously fixed your windblown hair as you looked for Yeonjun to exchange your usual greetings. 

It didn’t take long to find him, however. To your surprise, the boy, clad in a gray hoodie and torn jeans, was standing right at the beginning of the park with his worn skateboard covered in stickers propped under his arm. When he saw you his eyes lit up in a way that made you wonder if he had been looking for you. 

He met you halfway and immediately started talking as if you guys had already developed a relationship way beyond vague hellos. He was talking fast, almost as if he was nervous, saying something about a Caballerial kickflip and how you just had to see him do it. You didn’t really have time to question it, neither did you have time to explain that you had work soon, before you found yourself in current position, with one boy beside you and one boy on a skateboard in front of you.

You know Yeonjun is good at skateboarding, you have countless scenarios as proof of it, so you can’t understand why it suddenly seemed impossible for him to even stand on the skateboard. At first, you thought that maybe you were just bad at understanding skateboarding and that that fall was part of the trick. But when Kai gradually starts to snicker more and more and as you see Yeonjun’s face grow more and more frustrated, you can’t help but think that maybe something is wrong. 

You turn towards Kai to ask him if everything is fine with Yeonjun when you hear an abrupt stop of the wheels of the skateboard and the sound of body meeting concrete. As Kai bursts out laughing you quickly turn around to find Yeonjun sprawled on the ground in front of his board.

”Dude, are you okay?” You ask as you stand up and walk over to him as Kai falls over the bench, hand over stomach as his laughs grow louder and louder. 

Yeonjun looks up at you, his hair disheveled and his cheeks red. ”Yeah, sorry I’m- I’m fine, sorry.” 

”No, don’t say sorry” you assure him. ”Can you stand up?” Just as you’re about to reach out a hand to help him up, Kai walks up from behind you while clapping his hands excitedly. 

”That was amazing, wow, ten out of ten.” He says, still laughing as he takes a hold of Yeonjun’s arm and heaves him up onto his feet. You try to meet Yeonjun’s eyes to really assure that he’s okay as Kai bends down to brush off his pants, but he just looks over at the other end of the park, totally ignoring you. 

You understand that he probably felt embarrassed but you really wish he would talk to you again like he did earlier. It was probably just wishful thinking, but as Yeonjun met you earlier you really thought something more might’ve come out of today. But Yeonjun seeming to now refuse to even acknowledge your existence made it clear that you were done here for today. Besides, you were probably late for work anyway. 

You quietly turn around and walk back to the bench to take your bag thrown on the ground. ”Hey, are you leaving?” As you look over your shoulder you think that it’s Yeonjun who has finally decided to speak to you again, however, it’s Kai looking at you with a friendly smile. 

”Yeah, I’m actually late for work,” you say as you point over your shoulder in the direction of your workplace. Now both boys are staring at you and you suddenly find it hard to breathe at the very undivided attention. If you weren’t so hyperaware of everything, you would’ve missed Kai’s quick glance in Yeonjun’s direction. You follow his eyes and look at the boy in the gray hoodie whom to your surprise really looks like he wants to say something. 

When he doesn’t however and the silence starts to get borderline uncomfortable, Kai simply gives you another friendly smile. ”Okay, cool.”

You just throw your bag over your shoulder and with a wave in the boys' direction leave them both behind you. 

It’s dark outside when you with a tired sigh let the door to your job fall shut behind you. When you had changed into your uniform earlier today after quickly explaining to your boss that traffic made you late, you had expected to as per usual forget all about Yeonjun. However, today had clearly been different and your thoughts as you had tried to unpack groceries and smile at customers had all been about the boy in the skate park. 

You hate to admit it but there were several times during the day where you had looked towards the entrance of the store hoping that Yeonjun would walk in, which was simply ridiculous seeing as he has no idea where you work. Today has simply been weird and right now you want nothing more than to get home and shower it all off. 

As you get closer to the park again you can’t help but acknowledge the way your heart seems to start beating a little faster. The park was usually deserted this time of night so there was really no reason for you to suddenly feel nervous. You try to shake your body out of it and keep your eyes strained to the ground as you walk past it. 

You have almost made your way past the park when you suddenly hear someone quietly clear their throat behind you, giving you a heart attack as you jerk around ready to punch someone in the face. In the short span of a few seconds you have time to imagine the worst case scenarios of some robber looking to steal your bag, so when you come face to face with Yeonjun who quickly takes a surprised step back when he sees your raised fist, you almost cry out of relief. 

”Wow, I’m sorry,” he says as he throws both his hands up into the air, dropping the skateboard he had under one of his arms, making you flinch one more time as it hits the ground with a loud bang. ”I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

You bend forward with your hands on your knees as you take deep breaths trying to calm your beating heart. After a while though, you realize that it isn’t Yeonjun’s scare that has your heart beating, it’s simply just him standing in front of you. You straighten your back and you can feel your face grow red as you come face to face with Yeonjun. ”Are you okay?” He asks with a shy smile. 

”I’m okay, it’s fine.” You look to the side in embarrassment, finding it hard to meet his eyes. At the sight of the empty skatepark, you suddenly wonder what in the world Yeonjun is doing here so late at night. ”I’ve never seen you here so late at night, what's up?” You ask as you look over at him again.

This time it’s Yeonjun’s turn to shyly look away as he scratches the back of his neck. ”Eh well, honestly I was waiting for you.” You feel your face grow hot again as you look at him with big eyes. 

”You were waiting… for me?” You just had an eight-hour shift, there was no way he had waited for you for so long. 

He looks over at you again, his face a matching shade of red like yours. ”Yeah I just wanted to say sorry for earlier,” he says as he reaches into the pock of his hoodie. ”I got you this as an apology gift.” In his hand is a bar of your favorite chocolate. There were so many questions circling in your head but at the moment none of them seemed to want to leave your mouth so you just found yourself staring at him.

”I don’t know if you remember the first time we met,” he continues. ”Or well, when I ran into you, sorry about that by the way. I just remembered you were eating this chocolate so I figured you liked it and so I got it for you- and yeah..” 

”Wow I…,” you say as you look down at the chocolate in his hand. You can’t believe he remembers it, you don’t even remember yourself that you were eating this chocolate when you first met Yeonjun. ”Why did you get me an apology gift?” You ask again, refraining to slap yourself on the forehead for asking a stupid question instead of saying thank you. 

”Because you had to sit and watch me totally fail earlier.”

”If anything it’s me who should get you a gift. You were the one that got hurt.” You say and look up from the chocolate to his face. You swear you almost pass out when you see him smiling at you. 

”Well, I also didn’t say goodbye which I felt really bad about. I’m sorry about that too, I guess I was just way to flustered after falling. It’s been happening a lot lately actually, Kai thinks I got a fuzzy brain after I met-” Yeonjun suddenly stops himself and you notice his cheeks growing red again. 

You can’t help but to smile as you reach for the chocolate, your fingers lightly brushing his palm as you take it from his hand. He looks up at you again and for a while, you just stare at each other. For so long Yeonjun had just been a mere silhouette of a boy on a skateboard on the other side of the park so to suddenly be standing so close and seeing the details of his black hair and beautiful brown eyes almost get too much for you and you have to look down at the ground.

It feels like there is so much to say, but at the moment neither of you know what it is. That is until you see his skateboard and you look up at him again with a small smile. ”So, can you teach me how to ride?”

Yeonjun seems taken back at your question. ”Do you really want to be taught by someone as bad as me? I mean, didn’t you see how much I fell earlier?”

”Hey, I’ve seen you before Yeonjun. Seriously, you have always stood out to me. I know that you have talent that no one in this park even has a smidge of.” For a moment you think you might’ve said a little too much and for the hundredth time this night you can feel your cheeks grow hot, it’s nothing however compared to Yeonjun’s cheeks. He quickly bends down to reach for his board as to hide his face, but you have already seen it and the smile on his face you think will be etched into your brain forever.

As Yeonjun takes up his skateboard and as both of you side by side make your way further into the park, you can’t believe that you are actually hanging out with Yeonjun. Though you were still slightly confused as to where you were standing with him in terms of your relationship, there was nothing you wanted more than to get to know him more. 

It takes a while before you manage to even stand on the skateboard and you suddenly understand why Kai always looked about ready to fall off the board. Even though Yeonjun wastes no time encouraging you as you carefully try to place both feet on the skateboard. Your balance is awful and if it wasn’t for Yeonjun being right there, you’re sure you would’ve broken every bone in your body by now. 

But you can’t really complain about your lack of balance, because as the night grows darker you and Yeonjun grow braver. Soon his hands have no problem holding onto your hips and your hands as he balances you up on his skateboard. And after what might be hours but feels like mere minutes, you finally manage to ride around the entire park without falling and when Yeonjun takes your hand to do a celebratory dance, you think that you have probably never been happier. 

”So what really happened that day when you ran into me?” You ask later when Yeonjun is walking you home, arms brushing together and the chocolate you just split sweet on your tongue. ”It seems so unlikely for you to just lose control of your board like that.”

Yeonjun is quite for awhile like he is trying to find the right words. ”It was an accident really,” he starts. ”But honestly…”

”Yes?…” you trail off. 

”I- I was really trying to impress you.” He says suddenly and now it’s your turn to go quite. Was Yeonjun actually confessing to you? When you don’t say anything, he glances over at you. ”I mean I’ve seen you walk past the park for some time now and you just really caught my attention. I don’t know why but I guess I thought I could get you to talk to me or something if I just showed you my skills.” You laugh at that which makes Yeonjun smile.

”Yeah, well you definitely manage to catch my attention,” you say, wondering if you should say the next words. ”But honestly, you had caught my attention way before that.” You can’t meet his eye, but from the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

”Well, it didn’t really go the way I wanted to. After that incident, I kept thinking of different ways to approach you and well today Kai just told me to man up and just talk to you. I didn’t really know what I should’ve talked to you about so I just decided to try and impress you again, which clearly didn’t work this time either. Sorry if I came on too strong by the way, you must’ve thought it was so weird when I just started talking to you all of a sudden.” Yeonjun says, scratching his ear at the memory. ”Man, Kai thought it was hilarious. Wouldn’t shut up about it after.”

You laugh at the memory of Kai snickering on the bench beside you. ”Well, I’m really happy you came up to me Yeonjun.” You say as look up at him. Though there was still some confusion about your relationship with Yeonjun, it was clear that you were moving towards something way beyond acquaintances and even friends. Without thinking you reach for his hand to thread his fingers with yours, making Yeonjun stumble over his own foot.

”I’m sorry you just give me a really fuzzy brain.” He says and as you both continue into the night hand in hand, you can feel your own head start to fog with thoughts of only Yeonjun.

[generallynerdy]

Bad Luck (Peter Parker X Reader)

Summary: Spider-Man has saved you three times this week, because, somehow, you’ve managed to get caught in the crossfire of three different bank robberies. Just when it seems your bad luck is wearing off, some punk in an alleyway decides to ruin your streak.

Requested by Anon: I had an idea for a peter parker/reader where the reader keeps finding themselves in harms way and peter has to keep saving them. Thanks!

Key: None Warnings: robbery mention, attempted robbery, gun, someone’s held at gunpoint, Peter is a Pure Boi who also beats up a man Word Count: 1001

Note: both Peter and the Reader are teens. this one is a bit of a mess but i like it. THANK U FIGHTER’S BLOCK I FINISHED THIS IN TEN MINUTES.

by the time you’re reading this i’ve seen endgame and probably cried

You were never going to leave your house again, that was for sure. It wouldn't be practical, but it would damn well be better than what you were suffering through.

How is it possible for one person to get stuck in so much trouble in less than a week? How? Even for someone as unlucky as you, it was near impossible. It wasn't just any kind of trouble either. No, you had been caught in the crossfire of three bank robberies in the past few days. After each robbery, you switched to a different bank, hoping this one would be safer, but Lucky for you, you did have a sort of guardian angel.

Spider-Man always happened to be at the right place at the right time. He was always on time to stop whatever dastardly plan the bad guys had in store for the bank you walked into. He'd saved your life three times and, for that, you really thought he deserved to be called a hero. Only heroes stopped 3 bank robberies a week.

Unfortunately, staying holed up in your house for the rest of your life wasn't exactly a viable option, not if you wanted to survive, so you were forced to go out after 3 days of being a recluse.

You decided not to go to any sort of bank, as you just weren't willing to risk it.

Instead, you went for a nice walk in the park. Nothing bad happened and, after finding 10 bucks on the ground, you were happier than you had been in a while.

You slipped through an alleyway, using it as a shortcut back to your apartment. That was were you found the trouble that'd been hanging over your head all day.

You heard the click of a gun and froze, slowly putting your hands up.

"That's right," the dark voice said. "Drop the bag and get up against the wall.”

You did as he asked, though hesitantly. Once he began to rifle through your things, you were tempted to run off, but realised he was still keeping an eye on you.

"I don't have any money," you said.

Pulling your wallet out from your bag, he scoffed. "This says otherwise. Stay still."

The voice came from above, making both you and the thief look up in confusion. Your heart soared at the sight of a certain neighbourhood menace, decked in red and blue. He hung from a balcony from an above apartment, but leapt down and sucker-punched the thief instantly.

It didn't take much effort for him to web the guy up against the wall for the police to find later, after he knocked him out so he'd quit struggling.

Spider-Man then turned to you, almost smiling through his mask. He grabbed your bag, holding it out to you. "Yours?"

"Thank you so much," you gushed, taking it from him. "I thought I was screwed for sure."

"It's no problem. Really," he said, his voice genuine.

Now that you were hearing him talk outside of taunting bank robbers, you noticed his voice was a little high. He sounded pretty young. In fact, he sounded like he was your age. Weird. Spider-Man definitely couldn't be a teenager, right?

You laughed a little. "That's, like, the fourth time you've saved me this week."

"Yeah, I've been counting," he admitted before freezing. "Uh, not in a creepy way or anything, I mean--"

"I get it," you interrupted with a smile. "The same person gets caught in three robberies in one week? I'd be keeping track, too."

He laughed. "How did you manage that, by the way?"

"Bad luck, I guess," you shrugged.

Spider-Man shook his head. "Good luck. You got stuck in three robberies that didn't go horribly wrong."

"Fair enough."

There was a little pause.

    “I’m (Y/N),” you said, “By the way.”

"Well, (Y/N), try not to get into anymore trouble," he said with a teasing tone. "And, uh, here."

He passed you a small slip of paper with a set of digits on it. You looked up at him with a silly grin. "Your number?"

"Yeah," he said almost quietly. "Just in case you get in trouble again.”

"Okay, Spider-Man," you smirked. "You sure you're not just hitting on me?"

He laughed, a tone of worry escaping through his amusement. "Be safe, okay? If I'm just a little bit late, I'll never forgive myself."

"You this nice to everybody you save?" You asked with raised eyebrows.

"I don't really see the people I save this often," he said. "Kinda wish it wasn't under these circumstances."

You grinned. "Maybe it doesn't have to be...?"

The big white ‘eyes’ on his suit widened, reacting to his own expression under the mask. "Seriously?"

"I mean, any other superhero probably wouldn't take time to give their number to a person they saved. You seem pretty cool," you said, blush creeping up on your face.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Even if you wouldn't know my real name, you still wanna talk?"

"Sure!" You said, probably a little too happily. "Kind of like a blind date, but long-term, huh?"

"A date?" He stuttered. "Is that-- is it a date?"

You smiled. "I dunno. Do you want it to be?"

"I'd like that," he said.

A shout sounded from down the street, gaining his attention. You didn't realise it, but he was mentally cursing himself for not realising something was off earlier. His Spider Sense should've gone off.

"Duty calls," he sighed. Shooting a web up toward the roof, he gave you one last look. "Don't get into trouble anytime soon!"

"If I get to see you sooner, then I just might," you teased as he swung away. When he was gone, you pumped your fist in the air victoriously. "A date with Spider-Man! Damn, those 3 robberies were so worth it!"

A few blocks away, Peter Parker swung ecstatically from building to building, unable to remove the smile he hid under his mask.

Masterlist

[hbwbyniall]

drabble 6 with narry?

Sorry for taking so long! also its 1 am so prob no one is gonna read this rip

____________

Niall shouldn’t be smiling, especially when he’s running for his life. He can hear the steps coming from behind getting closer and closer and he can feel the bullets pass right by his head making an echoing noise in the back of his mind that stuns him for a second, long enough to lose balance and turn his body to the side.

He feels a tight pressure on his forearm first and then the heat. Niall doesn’t have to look to know he’s being shot, it’s not the first time either, he’s not a stranger to the sudden impact of no sensation, the weird wave of feeling hot and wet as his arm starts to get numb and buzzing. It’s not pain, it’s never pain, that comes afterward when he’s alone and safe in his bedroom, taking care of whatever the night did to him and it’s all quiet and he doesn’t have bad guys hot on his heels. He doesn’t have time to look at his blood coming down his suit.

It’s dark and it’s raining like it always seems to be in this kind of situations and it makes things difficult, like trying to see when the wind hits him in the face or running faster when the water gets into the boots. But Niall is fast enough to keep a good distance from them, as far as one can possibly be running on a rooftop of a very large building. He looks behind to find fifteen men chasing him, armed to the teeth, screaming and pointing at the bag Niall is carrying on his chest, directing the bullets everywhere but there. One guy at the front raises his fist and they stop running, giving Niall a couple of seconds to recover his breath and when he turns to the front he understands the reason they’re not chasing him anymore.

There are people waiting for him at the end of the roof, more than twenty guns pointing at him but Niall’s wet hair is over his eyes so there could be more. He takes a deep breath considering his options. He can fight his way over the building but he’s not bulletproof so the chances are not exactly on his side. He can’t really go back for the same reason and now he’s suddenly out of options because they’re surrounding him. It’s been a long time since he felt inadequate about anything, but right now, trapped in the middle of an English gang with a potential bomb attached to his chest on the top of a bunch of abandoned buildings at the outskirts of the city, he looks up to the sky, wishing he could fly.

But he can’t.

“Give us the package.” Says the man pointing the gun at his face, walking up to him as the raindrops hit the floor underneath their feet and the thunder strikes over their heads.

“I can’t do that,” Niall replies with a smile that turns into a curse when someone from behind presses the exact place the bullet went through his arm.

Niall turns to his right and twists the man’s arm, lifting him up with just one arm and throwing him at the wall behind them. Niall is strong, very strong but again, he’s just one man and now all the guns are pointing at him again and times seems to slow down for him. They fire but the bullets freeze in front of him and he can almost count them, they’re a lot. The rain keeps dropping and the air is still cold but Niall knows this feeling, he was used to it and to be honest, he was waiting for it all night.

He smiles and starts running again, throwing punches at people as he goes, protecting the thing on his chest with his injured arm, but this time they’re confused and scared and that’s when people do stupid things, like started to gather around him again so he punches the floor, breaking the concrete around him and making them fall at his feet. The bodies in front of him are swept to the side like they’re blown by the air before he even decided to take one step, so he runs till he gets to the end of the building and then he jumps wide enough to perfectly land on his feet over the next building but his eyes were never focused on the landing, he was looking up to the highest rooftop in front of him, seeing him, standing right on the edge with his hand extended looking at him, soggy and angry, dressed in all black, just like Niall, trying to cover his face with a hoodie but Niall can see the reflection of the lights on his rings as he moves his hands. So Niall runs to him.

The men behind him start to get up with his guns on his hand but the man on the black hoodie lifts two fingers of his extended hand and guns are taken from their hands to be thrown out of the building like rose petals on a parade. When Niall looks up again, the man is gone. He’s starting to feel dizzy so he runs to the edge and jumps to the next building until he sees a wall tall enough for him to stand and land on the floor. He takes a couple of steps back and gets ready to leap but his vision is getting fuzzy and his head starts to ache, so he trips. He’s been running with a bullet hole on his arm for a while and even when he heals fast, the wound is open and his body is starting to catch up with him and at that moment he feels pain, not only from his arm but his entire body, so he closes his eyes and pretends he’s sleeping until he doesn’t have to wake up.

But he doesn’t hit the ground, he just floats a couple of centimeters over the floor for a few seconds until he opens his eyes and greets the same green eyes that promised him never save him again. He’s furious, he can see it by the way he’s breathing and how his fingers are extended next to his face, but still, his feet are gently placed in the floor as his hand goes down.

“Hey, Harry.” Niall smiles and the man in front of him curses under his breath, taking his good arm and put it over his shoulders.

“We have to close that wound right now.” He whispers over his ear and looks around, trying to find somewhere to hide as they hear more people coming for them.

“Missed you, too.” Niall laughs.

*

They were fifteen when it happened, back in Ireland when Harry was visiting Niall. They were best friends, their mothers were best friends since the first day of college when they were assigned to be roommates, Anne and Maura were inseparable so inevitably, Harry and Niall grew up together, going from England to Ireland, back and ford. There’s something beautiful about a friendship when they share a connection, their mothers used to say that when they find someone in life that you get to care very deeply, there’s really no reason strong enough or force capable of keeping up apart, so they took every chance they get to visit each other like having kids around the same age that seem to really like each other.

Being friends was easy for them, they had fun together, they understood each other. The Styles and the Horans were family, even if the lived miles apart or when both marriages failed, the kids used to visit each other all the time, like that summer when Harry just turned fifteen and Niall was learning to drive his father’s truck so they decided to take it out for a ride to the abandoned factories near the farms so Niall would crush or hurt anyone.

But they got bored really quick and went into those factories. There was not much to see or do so they played with whatever was around, like piling up old rusty barrels that smelt weird and thrown rock or bricks at it but what they didn’t know is that they weren’t in just a factory, it was a chemical lab high on radiation, abandoned for obvious reasons, so when Niall threw a lighter at the pile, it exploded. There was no fire or a sound, just a force that threw them both at the walls and let them a bitter taste in the mouth.

They run back home and didn’t say a word about it until Harry left to go back to England. They were fine, not a bruise, not blood and no pain, but suddenly, three months later when Niall was helping his dad at his butcher shop he realized he was able to carry big amounts of meat in just one arm and chop them without any effort. The best part of it? He wouldn’t get tired as he used to and his father, Bobby, didn’t even notice the change. When he turned sixteen he decided to see what he was capable of and came back to the old factory but nothing was there, no walls, no fences, only debris of what they found that day. Niall finished to tear down a wall with his fists that afternoon.

So when he went to see Harry and showed him what happened to him, Harry told him he was able to move things with his mind. And it was perfect, they could be superheroes like the comics they loved to read and save people, and they did for a while until they turned eighteen. They used to train together and Niall discovered he was fast and he could jump very long distances, Harry could create these force fields or shields around them with just the thought of it and it was fun, it was like they were living in a sci-fi movie, stopping robbers and molesters in the streets in the middle of the night wearing masks and dressing funny.

But it got bigger and more dangerous as they went, just like them. Niall could break down walls just running through them and Harry could carry cars over his head, he could lift bodies and thrown them across buildings just moving his fingers. Finally, it went too far and he couldn’t take it anymore. Niall couldn’t just let it go.

*

It’s been ten years and still, Harry finds himself saving Niall from himself just like when they started. He drags Niall behind the wall they were hiding from where the cars start to gather in, he looks around and finds a building a couple of meters away from them and starts walking, making Niall groan when he intentionally applies more pressure on his arm. Harry extends his hand at the door when they get close and it opens in front of them, letting them enter at the darkness of the building. Harry puts Niall on the floor and searches for the back pocket of his pants where he keeps the thread and needle.

The shoot is clean, there are two holes, a way in and a way out, so Harry just cleans it with what Niall has on him and sew him up like they used to do when they were kids. Niall is a lucky bastard and now his hands are covered with his blood once again.

“Just give me fifteen minutes to recharge,” Niall says as he snuggles down to the wall behind him, sitting there as he’s taking a little nap.

“If this doesn’t kill us, I’ll kill you,” Harry says, walking to the windows, seeing all the commotion out there.

Eight black cars parked next to the fences that surround this place filled with empty building on the verge of collapse. The lights coming from the cars are enough to light the place up and Harry can see the people running from one side to the other, shouting orders and recharging weapons. Harry should be studying for a case but instead, he’s in the middle of nowhere with Niall bleeding in the floor a couple of steps from him like they were stupid teenagers again.

“I can hear you thinking,” Niall says from behind him and Harry scoff.

“Me thinking is what get us out of this kind of situations.” Harry turns to Niall and finds him standing, moving his arm around, testing. That was fast, faster than he’s ever healed.

“That’s fair,” Niall smiles at him, walking up to him and looking out the window to see what Harry already knows.

They can stay much longer, the more time passes the fewer chances they have to make it out alive, and judging by the way Niall is holding that thing on his chest, it’s important.

“What is that?” Harry points at the green bag crossing his chest.

“A bomb,” Niall says, still looking out at the streets. “We need a car.”

“A bomb?!” Harry screams, making Niall cover up his mouth with his hand. “Why the fuck do you have a bomb wrapped in your chest?!”

“It’s not active! Calm down!” Niall says, slowly pulling out his hand. “It’s a prototype.” He explains as that means something to Harry. “I have to take it out of the streets.”

“You don’t have to do anything!” He screams at Niall’s face, trying to make him understand. “It’s not your job! You’re not the police.”

And then he gives him the look, the same look he had on his face seven years ago when Harry told him he couldn’t play superheroes anymore, they had to live their lives, go to college and focus on their problems instead of someone else’s. He’s disappointed, but so is Harry.

“Let get out of here,” Niall says, looking at the floor and moving his injured arm, throwing punches at the air. “Let’s go from behind and we’ll take a car when we get to the front.”

“But I hid my bike into some bushes at the entrance,” Harry says, trying to remember where exactly did he hide it.

“Then, we go for your bike.”

And that sounds like a plan.

But if Harry learned anything from playing superhero is that plans never go as planned. Like when they find people pointing guns at them the second they walk out.

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry whispers under his breath and extend his fingers, making the guns fly with a movement. “I hate guns.”

A man jumps to him but Niall stops him, grabbing him by the neck and tossing him to the wall, and then, it’s game time. Harry extends both of his arms and closes his fists in the air, breaking the walls around them and making the bricks hit the people on their way as Niall picks up whatever is near him and throws it to whoever tries to approach them. They start to walk, Niall going in front of Harry, preventing anyone from getting closer to him and Harry keeps an eye on their surroundings, stopping bullets and knights from touching them. They are a good team, they always were, even before the powers thing happened.

Niall stops Harry with his arm when they get to the middle of the mess. Cars park in front of them like a barrier and people hiding behind them with high-reach weapons and snippers on the top of the buildings. whatever the fuck Niall is carrying in his chest, it was to be terrible to be worth all of this.

“Do your thing,” Harry says as he takes off the hoodie and lets the rain touches his face.

He smiles and tramples the floor, making a crack that keeps going until the black van moves to the side and Harry extends both hands, separating them just as the floor cracks open and the car falls down, making the bullets rain in panic, keeping Harry busy lifting up shields in front of them.

“Get me a gun,” Niall says next to and Harry looks at him like he’s lost his mind.

“What? No!” He says, sending the bullets to the empty buildings, hearing it go into the walls and fall to the floor like raindrops.

“Harry, this is a life or death kind of thing!” Niall throws a punch right next to Harry’s face, hitting a guy that was trying to sneak into them flying across the floor.

Harry keeps one hand extended in front of him and directs the other to one of the cars, closing his fist and pulling it to his chest, dragging the car with him, positioning in front of Niall.

“This is worse than a gun,” Niall says, lifting the car and throwing it to the people shooting at them, making two more car crash for the impact, exploding.

“That was out getaway, you moron!” Harry screams, taking Niall to his chest as he protects them from the explosion.

There are only five cars left and when Harry look into Niall’s eyes, he understands what he’s thinking. It doesn’t matter if they make it to the bike, they’ll chase them. They have to get rid of the cars. So when Niall nods and starts running to the hellfire, Harry doesn’t stop him, he just turns to the parallel direction. He sees him go through people, breaking doors and throwing giants rocks to the cars, making them rolls down the hills and explode, Harry opens himself a path, walking slowly as people run to him, he just moves his hand, pushing them away, dragging whatever was near to knock them down and taking guns out of hand.

Harry doesn’t do violence; he barely uses his powers if he can help it. He’s not like Niall, he doesn’t have this urge to save everyone around him. He didn’t ask for this, he holds no obligation to it, but sometimes, when you are trapped in the middle of a mess like this one, you have to let your own principles go. So that’s what Harry does, he extended both of his arms in front of him and lift the three cars left, closing his fists making the car shake and the people fall from the inside, and then he opens his hands and the cars explode over their heads. He moves his hands to the right, throwing the parts down the hills.

That’s when he sees it, a man getting closer where he hid his bike and he does the only thing he knows will be able to stop it. He claps and extends his arms making everything around him float and jump, Niall likes this bit, he calls it ‘freezing time’ because it looks like everything stops, but it doesn’t, it’s just Harry moving matter and forces at his will and his own speed, but it takes a lot of him and Niall knows it so he’s there the right second to catch Harry when everything falls to the ground and then he jumps where the bike is hidden and Harry passes out.

*

When Harry wakes up, he’s in his own bed but he can see Niall’s silhouette coming from his bathroom, wiping up his hair with a towel. His window is open and he can feel the cold air going into his blanket, attacking his feet. He extends his finger and turns the lights on, making Niall turn to him. He can see his face now, a couple of bruises and scratches in his face and arms that are slowly fading out, his hair is wet but cleaner just like him.

“Where is the thing?” Harry asks, looking around his apartment.

“In a safe place,” Niall answers, smiling at him and making him feel dizzy again, just like when they were fifteen and Harry would do anything for him.

“In your secret lair?” Harry says, sitting down and feeling the headache finally hitting him.

“With MI6,” Niall says, handing him some aspirin and a glass of water.

“What?” Harry looks at him, confused but takes the medicine anyway.

“I’m clean now, I’m working by the books.” Niall laughs, leaving the glass of water on his hand and walking to the bathroom to return the towel to its place. “I’m an agent now.”

Harry looks at him, trying to make any sense of what he’s saying. Is that possible? The government knows about Niall and they let them just run with it? Or are they holding him hostage, somehow? Making him work for them, putting his life at risk. Suddenly, breathing is getting difficult and having thousands of thoughts by a minute is not helping at all.

“Where was your back up tonight?!” Harry says, standing up and going to the bathroom again.

He finds Niall brushing his teeth, using his toothbrush.

“You were my backup.” He says, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Do they know about me?!” Harry yells and he can see the conflict in his eyes like he wants to say something but finally, he smiles and shakes his head.

Sometimes, Harry wishes he could read minds.

“No, but I told them I got this one. I texted you just in case.” He leaves the bathroom and takes the jacket from the chair’s back.

“You have to stop doing that,” Harry says as he sees Niall approaching the open window. “Texting me in the middle of the night, telling me what you’re up to or where you’re going. I’m not a hero, Niall.”

Niall turns to him as he sits right in the window frame and even if Harry knows he can take the fall, the fact that he lives on the tenth floor is still nerve racking.

“I guess I just like proving you wrong.” And then, Niall jumps out of the window.  

[erintoknow]

hug it out

fallen hero fanfiction chargestep ~2k words [ao3]

leads to: [i wanna be your best friend]

–––

You’ve been taking it easy while your leg heals after that close call with Psychopathor. Busying yourself with things to think about that weren’t– Ortega’s hands. On you– pulling you up, pulling you in. Absolutely not thinking about holding her– holding her up. Holding her steady.

It’s bee a weird couple of months and Ortega’s new out-of-nowhere boyfriend didn’t make it any less weird. So it’s a good thing that you’re not thinking about any that, frankly, and it’s offensive of you to even suggest that. Stop it.

You’re thinking about how to fix this damn electric bass when you hear the call go out on the police radio. A direct attack on the Ranger Headquarter’s building. You sit up on the bed to a chorus of creaking rusted springs. That’s… that’s a bold move alright, to just go right for the Rangers like that.

But maybe not as bold as it seems. Middle of the day. Most of the Rangers are either off-duty or out in the city. If you were just looking to trash the place or pick off just one person…

Is Ortega out on patrol or at her desk this time of day?

Can’t recall.

Shit.

Sugar.

Alright.

Fine.

You stand up, scan for a place in the abandoned house you can stash your guitar. Give up and just drop it on the mattress. If you’re going to get there in time you’ll need every second.

———

The police have already cordoned off the block, flashing lights and yellow crime scene tape. You have to cover your mouth to stop stifle the shock. All the windows on the ground floor have been shattered and the sliding glass doors are just… gone. For a moment the old fear grips you and as soon as you see the police offers milling around outside you want to bolt. Then one of the men sees you, and you can practically feel his mind light up as he waves you over.

It’s not you they recognize, you have to remind yourself. It’s the suit. You haven’t been running with the Rangers for very long but… they’re happy to see you? An unlicensed vigilante? “Sidestep! Thank God you’re here?”

Wild.

“Uh–” You cough. Have to play a role here. Sound official. Like you know what you’re doing. Not some stammering child. “Officer! What the heck happened?”

The man, he sounds vaguely South African, shakes his head, a grim expression on his face. “Pennybags.”

You wait for an explanation. “The… bank robber?” He’s been menacing more than just banks, to be fair. But that’s what gets all the headlines. Pennybag’s magnetic powers have been… a challenge to deal with to say the least. For mods like Ortega or Steel especially. You’ve taken it upon yourself to puzzle out an answer. The Rangers always get their man.

“He took down two our guys on his way out.”

“J–jesus.” A knot twists in your gut. “Are– Is everyone okay?”

“Some broken bones.” He winces, rolls his shoulder. “They just left in an ambulance.”

“Where’s everybody else?”

“Anathema and Sergeant Steel are stuck on the other end of the city, and Sentinel…” The man trails off.

You take a step towards him, heart beating against your chest. “What. What about Sentinel?”

“He was on his way back but now he’s out looking for the Marshal.”

“W–what?”

“We can’t find her anywhere and no one’s been able to get in contact with her since the attack started.” The cop extends a hand outwards to the building. “The receptionist? Sarah? Said she came in this morning. But no one saw her leave.”

You stare at the man. In the space of an hour your whole world has been yanked out from under you. Again.

“We were actually hoping you might be able to help. I don’t know how you do it Sidestep, but you’ve got a knack for finding people.”

Cross your arms to hide the fact that you’re hugging yourself. A villain successful attacked the Rangers Building and now nobody can find find find her. You have been steadily building a reputation for yourself, working with Anathema and Steel as part of crises response. But it’s easy to find people when you can pick up their thoughts.

You can’t do that with Charge. Ortega. Whatever. 

But…

Where is she?

Why hasn’t she checked in?

Is Ortega okay?

“Sidestep?” The police officer is staring at you.

Take a breath. “I’ll see what I can do. Can I… go in?”

The man nods, waves to the rest of the officers, “Let Sidestep though, boys.” It’s not until they respond with a chorus to the effect of ‘sure thing, chief’ that you realize the man you’ve been talking to this whole time is the god damn Chief of Police for Los Diablos.

Oh.

Your stomach does a little backflip.

You manage to disentangle yourself from the conversation with a hurried ‘thank you, goodbye’ before you can embarrass yourself.

The interior doesn’t do much to calm your nerves. Little bits and pieces of metal scattered across the floor, glass shards. The receptionist is staring disapprovingly a painting of some previous marshal that’s been dropped up against the wall. She spots you and breaks into a weak smile. “Sidestep! I’m glad you’re here.”

Again with that???

“H-hi uh,” you hesitate, what was her name? You’ll just pull it from her mind real quick and–

“It’s Sarah, remember?”

Fuck.

“Y-yeah! Sarah! Sorry… I’m kind of… in shock?” 

“God. Yeah. I can’t…” She hugs her arms and shudders, a haunted look on her face. “The bastard tore through in a hurry.”

You stand there, incredibly aware of how much you don’t belong in this space. “I’m… I’m glad you’re okay.”

She gives a weak smile, “Thank you. Anything I can help with?”

“I’m… I’m trying to find Charge? No one’s been able to get in touch with her.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. She didn’t leave by the front door, that’s for sure.” She gives a helpless shrug. “I’m kind of at a loss myself what to do right now. Do I just… go home?”

“I don’t think think anyone would stop you.” You rub your arm, unsure what to do with the numb distress you both share. “If… if someone does, come get me, I’ll punch them.” She gives you a faint smile. You try to smile back, but whether she can see it under your mask you’re not sure.

You’ve never actually had free reign of the building before, even if you’re worked to build as good a mental map of the place as you can. If Steel were here to see you poking through everyone’s offices he’d lose his mind.

Something you can rub in his face later, maybe.

Break room, conference room, offices… You can tell the path Pennybags cut through the building by the trail of nails and screws pulled out of the walls. Up the stairs, second story, it doesn’t come as a surprise to see the path lead straight towards Ortega’s office. Doesn’t help the weight in your stomach though.

Creek open the door, and your breath catches in your throat. Her office is a disaster. Papers scattered across the floor, the desk turned on the side, bookshelves broken. You keep expecting to turn a corner, look behind some overturned piece of furniture and find her. She’s probably boiling mad. Acting the Ranger’s head of operations in broad daylight? Spit in her face why don’t you.

God. You hope she’s alright.

If she hasn’t left the building yet then where could she be? You lean back against the overturned desk and close your eyes, run through the map in your head. Where have you been already? Relax your mental shields; where can you pick up minds milling around? Maybe…

Are there any gaps in your map?

You wander back out to the stairwell and make your way to the third floor. You’ve never been up this high but there’s never been any need. There’s the roof access and then… The door to the attic storage is unlocked. The lights are already on as you step in. Is that promising? Does it mean anything? The air smells of sawdust and the walls and floor are unfinished.

If Steel finds out you’re up here, he might start foaming at the mouth. You cover your mouth, trying not to giggle. This is… this is serious. Where is Ortega? There’s something off up here and you can’t place your finger on it but it’s making your hair stand on end.

A floorboard creaks as you step past a pile of cardboard boxes and you freeze.

No other sounds.

Pennybags… left right? People saw leave.

He couldn’t have… snuck back in, right? What would be the point of that?

You push past another wall of boxes, eyes adjusting to the dim sodium-yellow lighting of the overhead lightbulbs. Maybe you’ll look into night vision for your next upgrade.

Something in the building shifts and it’s not you.

You freeze in place, straining out for the touch of any other minds but only mange to scoop up idle thoughts from the floors below.

“Ariad– Sidestep?”

You snap your head in the direction of the sound, and there’s Ortega, leaning on a chest-high wall of boxes, with several more opened and scattered around. “What are you doing up here?”

She blinks at you, even in the bad light her eyes look red. Her hair is a mess, a cut across her cheek. “I should be asking you that. You… you know you’re not supposed to be up here.”

You take a step back and rub your shoulder. Why did you even come here? “I.. Everyone’s looking for you, they’re worried.”

“What?” She forces a laugh, “could have just radioed me.”

“They’ve been trying.”

She frowns at that, unclips the walkie-talkie from her ranger suit. It stays silent no matter what combinations of buttons she presses.

“C-Charge, I think it’s–”

“I KNOW IT’S BROKEN!” You shrink back, heartbeat in your ears. Ortega’s expression immediately softens and she drops the radio to the ground. “Mierda… Damnit, Sidestep, I’m sorry.”

You should… you should go. Leave. Get out of here. But–

You don’t move. Instead, pull your mask off, rub at your eyes. “Are you… Ortega, what happened?”

“You already saw,” she waves a hand at the floor, rubs at her face with the other one. She fires off a string of curses in Spanish and kicks the closest box to her causing the whole tower sitting on it to shift slightly. “He tore through this place like I wasn’t even here.”

There’s a pressure behind your eyes and you try to swallow it down. “Ortega, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Ortega hisses through her teeth. She won’t look at you. “Don’t worry about it.”

You bite your lip, rub your arms. “Liar.”

Fuck, did you just say that?

Ortega looks at you as if she’s thinking the same thing. “He… Mierda, what was the point of stealing it?” She leans across a box for support, hands are balled up in fists, shaking. “I can’t… why?”

You take a step towards Ortega, ready for the slightest indication to back off. What… what are you supposed to do in a situation like this? There’s a physical pain in your chest, watching her like this. “Julia…?”

It’s a split-second decision . One you don’t even realize you’ve made until your arm is around her, pulling Ortega towards you into a hug. There’s a passing look of stunned confusion on her face and then she collapses against you, head on your shoulder, pulling the two of your to your knees on the floor.

Feeling stiff, like you’re operating your body from miles away, you put your other arm around her, pat her on the back. “I’m sorry.” 

“Ari… I don’t have that much of him left.”

“We’ll… We’ll get it back. I promise.”

The two of you stay like that for a while.

–––

leads to: [i wanna be your best friend]

[wykart]

Five and Vanya

Their friendship is precious and look I wrote a fic!! 

Title: Fix Her

Summary: Five was Vanya's only friend at the academy, once he left, everything changed.

A fic about Vanya and Five's friendship growing up, and how that friendship kept them hopeful in all the years they spent apart.

read chapter one under the cut or read on ao3 

Any moment now she’d hear him rustling around downstairs. Maybe he would come through the bedroom window and surprise her, the same way they would sneak out at night. He wouldn’t just go. He wouldn’t leave her all alone here. Five would come back. He’d run off at dinner and hadn’t been back to the house since. Vanya couldn’t sleep not knowing where he was. After their father had stopped calling after him, he’d simply gone back to his meal, and so did the rest of them, as if nothing had happened. Vanya had gotten to her feet, ready to chase off after him. Her father had put a stop to that. He would return when he was ready to face the consequences, he’d said. Her siblings hadn’t even seemed bothered about Five storming off, he liked to make a scene, and would quite often hide himself away in a secluded corner of the house and evade the rest of them for hours. Not Vanya. She knew all of his secret hiding places, she knew because they were here hiding places too. It was going to be alright, she told herself. He would probably be here in her room when she woke up, telling her that she was silly for worrying so much. She held onto that hope as she lay awake, because she knew that she couldn’t face a day in this house without him.

...

Four years earlier

“Go away Vanya,” Allison sneered, “you cant play with us, father said so.” The children were playing again, at least that’s what their father called it when they practised their training drills on one another. Sometimes half would pretend to be robbers, the others the heroes, but it was all just a guise for their true purpose, as father said, to fight off evil.

Vanya had wandered into the middle of their little set up, hoping to integrate herself into the make believe scenario as effortlessly and as welcomely as the others seemed to. She’d shuffled awkwardly into the centre of the room waiting to be noticed, testing the waters, seeing how long it would take for them to send her away. Vanya ignored Allison’s jab and continued shuffling her way towards Luther and Diego, locked in a fist fight that was a little too rough to be considered training. Allison scoffed and went back to Five, who was teleporting around her as she threw punches and kicks. He was laughing, which only egged her on. Five always loved to tease the others, always smirking as he danced around the rest. He’s the only one that ever paid any attention to her, even if it was just in the form of sitting in silence in the library, reading, or the occasional kind remark. The others, even Ben and Klaus, mostly ignored her because they followed the lead of one two and three - and those three followed fathers example to the book. They all admired him, but those three were especially devout. Father ignored vanya, told everyone she wasn’t really part of the academy, that she failed to be strong like the rest of them, to be special. Of course they believed him, he was all they’d ever had. Five was the only one who seems to question that notion.

Vanya practised their fighting moves in secret, the uppercuts and jabs and disarming techniques. It was difficult, learning such things on her own, but she made do. Sometimes she even confined herself that she belonged here.

Luther pushed Diego backwards, who toppled into Vanya as she observed the scene. “What the hell Vanya!” He cried, “you’re just getting in the way, get out of here.” She shrugged an apology and moved on, maybe if she stuck around long enough they’d have to include her. She didn’t have anything better to do.

“Ahhhh,” Klaus cried theatrically, rolling around on the ground with his hand draped over his forehead. “Please save me number one, save me from these terrible fiends!” Klaus was playing hostage, a role that everyone else tended to avoid. Klaus, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the drama. Ben was sat next to him, giggling, pretending to hold him at gunpoint. Vanya suppressed a smile.

“Vanya!” It was Allison again, she got sort of scary when she was mad. “You’re getting in the way, I have to go free the hostage, you’re messing up our training.”

“Hey guys,” Klaus piped up, breaking his long string of wails, “maybe Vanya can be hostage, she doesn’t really have to do anything.” Allison simply rolled her eyes.

“You shut your mouth, citizen,” Ben grumbled, putting on a deep, gravelly voice.

Klaus grinned and got back to wailing, “ohhhh nooo please don’t kill me!”

“Vanya can’t be hostage,” Luther said, and as leader his word was law. “She’s too quiet and boring, hostages aren’t like that in the real world.”

“Pretty sure hostages aren’t like that in the real world either,” Diego pointed at Klaus, who was rolling around on the floor while Ben laughed and struggled to hold him still. Vanya smiled at Diego to express her gratitude, but he turned away pointedly. Sometimes she suspected he only stuck up for her because it was the opposite of what Luther said.

“We don’t even need a hostage,” Allison added, “we just need to practise fighting, Klaus just likes messing around.”

“That’s right,” Luther muttered, he always agreed with Allison. “We should really just concentrate on honing our skills, father says that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah, well,” Diego smirked, “your skills could use some honing.” He ducked out of the way instinctively, anticipating a punch. Luther managed to hold himself back (for once) and simply grimaced as if the slight had caused him physical pain.

“Can we get back to the game now?” Ben asked, “and can I be the hero next time? Klaus is being weird,” even as he said it Klaus pulled a face and Ben collapses into yet another fit of laughter.

Vanya giggled, but stopped short when she caught sight of Allison’s icy glare. “Vanya.” She said, coldly, “go.” Vanya looked down at her shoes, unmoving.

“Hurry up,” Luther chided, “or we’ll get father, you know you’re not allowed to play with us.” Even Diego didn’t disagree with that sentiment.

Vanya finally mustered up the courage to speak. “I can fight,” she murmured, “I’ve been practising.” Diego badly suppressed a chuckle. “What?” She cried, indignant, “I have been, I bet I could play the hero next time.”

All six of them - no, not Five - shared a knowing glance. They burst out laughing. “Come on, Vanya, it’s ok,” Klaus chuckled, “you don’t have to pretend like you’re one of us.”

“You don’t have powers,” Ben said, a little shy, looking up at Luther and Allison for some sort of praise. “You’re not even really a part of the academy.”

“You were never meant to be here,” Luther said, and Allison, right to his side.

“Father doesn’t want you.” It’s the same phrases, over and over, passed around the circle. No matter how many times she hears them, they hurt just the same.

“Shut up, Allison,” Five snarked, speaking up for the first time. Allison scowled at him, and Luther stepped in front of her protectively, putting himself between her and five. Five rolled his eyes. “Calm down there big boy,” he smirked, “Alison, you should really keep your dog on a leash.” Luther lurched forwards to attack, but Five was gone in a flash of blue light before his fist was even raised. Klaus was laughing hysterically, spluttering the phrase ‘big boy.’

“Shut your mouth, Five,” Luther grumbled, making his voice sound deeper than it really was.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth for once, and stop being so mean to Vanya. It’s not like dad cares about the games we play, they’re just games.”

This only made Luther angrier. “They’re not just games, we’re training as a team. Vanya isn’t part of the team.”

“You really do live in make-believe world, one, not everything’s life or death.”

“You know what? Fine, she can be the hostage. Once. But don’t let dad see or we’ll all be in trouble.”

Five gave a snide smile. “Vanya wants to be the hero, she said so herself.”

Klaus chuckled, “yeah, maybe it’s time to step down, big boy.” Ben was laughing as well, but not at Luther, at the absurdity of such a notion. The notion of letting Vanya lead. They were all laughing at her again.

“I – It’s okay, really,” Vanya stammered, “it was silly, I’ll just…” she turned on the spot, unsure of what to do with herself. “I’ll just go.”

“Vanya, wait!” Five called, but she was already scurrying up the stairs, embarrassed.

She heard the conversation continue a while from the upstairs landing. “Why do you like Vanya so much anyway, Five?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah,” Diego added, “she’s so weird and boring.”

“She’s more interesting than any of you,” Five said. No one had ever called her interesting before. The thought brought a smile to her lips. “All you care about is fighting.”

“What else is there,” Luther replied, smugly, “that’s what we were made for, that’s what our powers are for. Vanya wasn’t made for anything.”

“You, it seems, were made to be a pain in my ass,” Five sniggered. Luther looked aghast, even Diego was taken aback. Klaus roared with laughter.

“If you’re not going to train then just go,” Allison snapped, stepping closer to Five, threateningly. “Go, or I’ll make you.”

Five’s expression darkened. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Fine,” he resorted, “there’s no need.” In another flash, and a burst of warbling energy, he was gone. Allison’s eyes darted up to the landing where Vanya was lurking. She ducked out of the way hurriedly and shut herself in her room. Again.

[cuddlycharizard]

Thoughts while watching Spider-Man (2002) for the first time.

Yeah for some reason I have never seen this movie. I have seen Spider-Man 3 (that was years ago though) and somehow never watched Spider-Man or Spider-Man 2 (I’ll probably watch that tomorrow).

Ok here I go.

Wait does Danny Elfman compose this?

*Quick Google*

He does

Ngl the narration is pretty cheesy

Wait Tobey Maguire doesn’t look like a high school student

*Another Quick Google*

Ok I’m right he was 27

James Franco’s (don’t know character name yet) dad is a dick

Oh his name is Harry Ok

Peter doesn’t sound very enthusiastic about meeting Harry’s dad despite writing about his stuff

These Spiders are really cool and all but why are these high schoolers here beyond having a way for Peter to get bitten?

How did they manage to lose a spider?

Stop repeating what Peter told you Harry

Oh cool he’s been bitten now

Like seriously how did they manage to lose that spider?

Oh it’s Uncle Ben, hope he lives a long and fulfilling on-screen life

I mean at least he is testing the thing on himself and not kidnapping homeless people or something

Why did the scientist who thinks this stuff is bad agree to help with this?

Norman’s not looking too good

Ok now that scientist looks worse

Of course there is a dick joke

MJs dad/ step dad/ whatever he is, is a dick, I hope someone punches him.

Does the bus avoid Peter on purpose? That bus driver is a dick.

Surely a lab like that would have security cameras?

Stop smiling weird Peter, you’re freaking her out.

Oh so he has natural webs

Why do they come out of his wrist? I mean really they should be coming out of his abdomen somewhere.

That was a weird image of thumb hairs, but pretty cool

If someone walks in that alley right now he’s got some explaining to do

Ok him failing to produce webs is pretty funny

Can someone please help MJ get out of her current home situation?

MJ’s top screams early 2000s

Peter stop telling her about the time you cried during Cinderella

Peter should be a clothes designer

So he wants to get a car to impress MJ? I mean as far as early 2000s teenage boy crush plot devices go, sure I guess. But you don’t need a car just to impress her Peter.

Uncle Ben is being really nice, which probably means his death will be soon.

HE SAID THE LINE

Peter stop being a dick to Uncle Ben. So yeah his death is imminent now that you have been mean to him.

I didn’t know this movie would have so much wrestling

Why does Peter get a cage? No one else got a cage.

Ooof Peter please don’t say that.That joke really hasn’t aged well. (The one where Peter pissed off the wrestler guy by implying he [wrestler guy] had a husband) You’re better than that Peter.

Since when were crowbars allowed in wrestling?

Surely he should get $2k if he managed 2 mins

I bet that robber guy is the one that kills Uncle Ben

Uncle Ben died :(

Yeah I was right it was the robber guy that Peter didn’t stop

Woah Spider-Man caused his death

Finally MJ broke up with Flash

Ok the suit is cool but how on earth did he make it?

Peter just name dropped The Lizard (Doctor Connors)

I hate Jameson as a person but love him as a character

You look nice and all MJ, but that’s still cultural appropriation.

No one saw Peter change into the Spider Suit?

Did Norman not check whether his son would be there?

Or did he just not care?

Is Norman not aware he is the Goblin?

I guess not

Looks like this is yet another case of some form of DID being the cause of a villain. (Sorry if I am mistaken in saying that, it just seems like what movie writers interpret as DID to me). I really wish movies wouldn’t use this trope so much, it’s harmful and fustrating for those with the condition.

Oh Jamerson is actually defending Peter.

How did Peter get there and in costume so quick?!

Honestly the bit with those guys going after MJ is scarily real.

Stupid Peter forgetting your mask

Oh he found it

Ok she’s got to know it’s him by now

And here’s that upside down kiss (I always thought that was Spider-Man 2, oh well)

I bet that’s the Goblin

It’s the Goblin

Wow normal is a big ol misogynist isn’t he?

This Thanksgiving is going so well

No don’t blow up Aunt May!

Ok so MJ hasn’t guessed Peter is Spider-Man

Aunt May just name dropped Superman (telling Peter that he’s not Superman), so do they have DC comics here?

Ok that’s cute about 6 year old Peter thinking MJ was an angel

Feel bad for MJ, she has no idea why this is happening.

Ok that’s pretty messed up Goblin.

WAIT HE CHOSE HER OVER KIDS

Ok he’s got the kids

Go citizens!

Oh wow how is Peter still alive?

How did the Goblin survive a wall being dropped on him?

Don’t trust him Peter!

Ok that was really cute when he said Uncle Ben was his dad

Ouch.

So does Harry blame Spider-Man now?

Yep he does

So are he and MJ getting together now?

I guess they are

More narration

Oh wait they aren’t

Has she realised he’s Spider-Man yet?

This narration is so cheesy

And there you have it, that was my live reaction to watching a 17 year old Spider-Man movie. Despite the slightly problematic things I just noted and the general predictability of the plot I still enjoyed it and will probably be watching Spider-Man 2 tomorrow. Heck I might even watch Spider-Man 3 at some point soon seeing how I don’t really remember much of it and just to see what makes it so infamous apart from that emo dance scene thing.

So yeah onto Spider-Man 2. The only things I know about it are that Dr Octopus is there and so is a train.

Also while finishing this I just realised it was Peter Parker’s Birthday, which is nothing but coincidence that I watched Spider-Man today, which is pretty cool. (I probably won’t do a live react for those though)

[hs-devote]

 9. T H E   T R U T H

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows. Previous chapter : Y/N discovered the robbery. Her bouquet and his wallet were the silent witnesses the start of Harry's honesty. Those were all covered by blood, yet Harry was unharmed. What happened?  Should Harry be honest now? But, would he be ready for her reaction? Was he ready if Y/N will leave him after this? Why did this have to be happening at a time like this? 9. THE TRUTH

Harry was contemplating with himself. Should he be honest now? Right fucking now? In this situation? In the middle of their holiday? No matter what, she would know someday. He just hoped he didn't make the wrong decision if he told her now. “Promise me, no matter what will happen. You have to listen to me. Okay?” Harry asked her slowly, averted his gaze to her. Y/N nodded, “Say whatever you want to say, H.”

Harry took a deep breath, “When I was out for buying flowers and the wine, I was intercepted by two men who were loitering on the way back here. The mistake was... I took the dark and empty street, different paths from before. When I turned around and keep walking to avoid them, they were following me. And from that point, I knew I was in trouble. I had no idea who they were.” He continued, “I tried to walk faster, and I couldn't just run, they would be suspicious. My anxiety got high when one of them held my shoulder. The man asked what I've got on myself, and asked for my wallet. So I gave it, I didn't want to look for other trouble.” Y/N chose to remain silent, listening to whatever he said. She couldn't wrap the fact that her boyfriend got robbed, yet she grateful he came back safely. “Then, he asked me for my phone. I couldn't let them have it. All my work is on there. He pulled out the knife because I didn't want to give it. Fast forward, before he got the chance to stab me, I twisted his hand until his bone broke – I think. He fell in pain. Seeing his friend was in pain, the other man ran to me.” Harry squinted his eyes, preparing his mental before he continued. His mouth felt bitter to say the next sentence. “I took the knife, stab the running man in the stomach. And slit the throat of the other man. Both of them were covered by blood. Both of them was dying on the street.” He sighed, “I saw the death suck their soul off their body with my own two eyes.” “I kill them.” Y/N froze in her place, didn't expect for such a plot twist. Every sound in her ears was faded away, her whole body became numb. Harry, killed people? That's why. It caused his wallet and the bouquet were splattered by blood. “Why Harry?” she was quite surprised to hear the sound coming out of her mouth, so calm, without any emotion. She could have freaked out if she wanted. But she didn't. Her boyfriend killed people. Not regular people. He killed them because he was being threatened. Y/N couldn't look at him right now. Her body was eager to get out of there, but her mind and heart asked to stay. Harry could feel disappointment and worries from his girlfriend. Weird, he didn't sense her fear. Yet, he could understand that. One thing he was surprised by her, she didn't scream or freak out. He had been caught red-handed. Why would he cover it all up anymore? “If you don't mind me asking, how many times have you seen me when I was on the highest level of anger? And what I did after that?” He stared at her now with his eyes held so many emotions. When Y/N didn't dare to answer, Harry encouraged her, “It's okay, be honest with me.” “You threw things, barking at people, you hit them. You were... harsh.” She quietly said. “Do you remember that night when you were seeing someone got strangle in the alley?” he asked one more time. Her brain tried to dig her memory if she had experienced that thing. Sounded familiar, but she wasn't sure. A night... In alley... Strangled... Like a bulb appeared on her head, Y/N understood what he meant. She snapped her head to him. No way... “You saw someone being strangled in the alley that night. Him being strangled because he was stalking you to the groceries.” He exhaled, “You saw me that night, but you never brought it in the office. I was the one who strangled him, to death.” Y/N gasped with her palm was covering her mouth. Her eyes widened at him in disbelief. Her Harry. Her soft – delicate Harry, not only once killed people. Harry gently grabbed both of her now shaking hands, rubbing them in a soothing manner. His green eyes piercing through hers. “Now, I want to be honest with you. Please listen to me until the end. It's okay if you feel scared, or confused later.” He whispered, “Remember I told you I hate Dale Jespersen with all of my guts?” Y/N didn't answer him. Her eyes were still wide with hands still trembling in his grasp. Harry had to calm her down before she got a panic attack. He didn't care if she would squirm or try to get loose in his arms for fear of him. He had to make her calm so she could listen to him. Harry brought her body to him, securing her body in his embrace. His thumb softly caressed her shoulder, “I'll be honest about who I really am. I'm sure you'll change your view of me after this. I understand, that's your rights. And my obligation is to be open about everything to you.” He let five minutes went to waste. However, he did that so Y/N could balance herself. He smiled faintly when she detached herself and nodded her head to him. Her hands still latched with his. “Harry Styles is not a Styles when he was born. Yes, the mother is Anne. But, Igor Styles is not the biological father. Harry was born in Birmingham and grew up there until he was ten. When he was in primary school, Dale Jespersen was a bully for him, never a friend. His father was an awful inconsiderate bastard who always ask money to get drunk and abuse his wife and only son. Yes, Harry was an only child in the family.” He paused, “His father always hit, punch, jab, kick, whatever it is.. his wife and son. He was only nine years old at that time. Imagine, a nine-year-old got hit and punch almost every single fucking day. Until someday, he felt numb. Like he was sick for all those bullshit he got, he was angry, upset, sad, you name it. Those emotions built a new character.. a new person in Harry. Those emotions made Harry brave enough to fight Dale and his abusive father. Harry didn't expect those emotions grew with him, making a new figure who wanted to make everyone know that the new Harry wasn't the same as old Harry.” Harry still rubbed her hands, looked too preoccupied with the story. Y/N had been holding her breath from earlier. When he said he wants to be honest with something, she didn't expect this kind of truth. "Harry once hit his father with brick, stabbing his father's arm. The simple reason; his father kick him and hit his mother with cutting board." "You, what?" she drew a hard breath, her mouth slightly gaped. "The new Harry has some certain emotions. He did kill an innocence pigeon on the Christmas just because the pigeon was alone under the tree, with no friends or family. He thought it would be better if the pigeon died rather than being alone on this cruel earth." Another kill? The devil must be proud of him... Her inner goddess exhaled. "Father really hates Harry, and he believed there was not the slightest sense of love for him. Some day, father dragged him out of the house, took him away without his mother's knowledge. You know what? His father threw him into an orphanage. Harry didn't know the way back home, his eyes were covered with cloth along the ride. But lucky for him, the fortune was on his side. His mother found him and took him home after he stayed for two months." He let out a small chuckle, "Birmingham left a bitter wound for Harry and his mother. They moved to Manchester when he was ten. There, they met with Igor Styles – someone who was nice to them. Someone who Harry saw as an ideal father figure. He was happy when his mother married Igor four years later. Besides, he got a new little step-sister; Clementia was only seven years old at the time." That's why Harry and Clementia didn't look alike. But, their siblings bound was so close. "Nonetheless, Harry's memories and emotions didn't solely leave behind in Birmingham, they weren't forgotten. When he was a teenager, he realised that he wasn't live alone in this body. He was aware every time his anger consumes him too much, he changed to a different person. As if he saw his body doing something against his will, but his soul was just silent, couldn't do anything. Like someone took over his body. Until one night, when he looked in the mirror, he could see clear as water – the person he was staring at – it was not him. The reflection was indeed him, but it claimed as a Marcel. Not Harry. He's the dark and emotional side of Harry. A soul formed by hurt, revenge, betrayal, anger – that he had felt all this time. He was true and real. Harry lives with Marcel, sharing a body with him. If I can make it simple, Harry had a split personality, an impact of his childhood trauma.” Harry released a long breath that he had been holding back. He was so relieved after telling his dark secret. When he looked at Y/N, the girl in front of him was dumbfounded in her place. Her eyes were blank, so many questions spinning around in her head. But, then she realised, why did Harry tell his story with a third-person perspective? "Now, last question. How many times have you seen my eyes turn darker, or how fast I was talking?" he asked firmly, yet still with a gentle voice. “Several times, quite a lot.” Y/N stammered. “It was Marcel, not me; Harry. He would awake if the temper being tickled. If my eyes get darker, I speak faster, and my temper was a mess – I wasn't there. That was Marcel. He wouldn't mind hurting the person who made him annoyed.” “So, the one who killed your robber was.. Marcel?” Harry instantly nodded. Y/N hurriedly pulled her hand from Harry, made her eyes saw the hurt on his face. But after he told him everything, she didn't know what to do – she didn't how to react in front of him. Her heart was beating so fast, fear spreading around her body. Who was talking to her right now? Harry smiled, at least she didn't freak out or run away from him. It was better than he thought. "I understand if you don't want to see me after this. I understand if.. if someday you don't want to keep this relationship any more, Y/N. It's not your fault. I should've realised that freak people like me don't deserve you.” He chuckled, shaking his head. He felt sad now, thinking about what might happen. But, the question was, is he sure of what he said earlier? "Harry, no. Don't talk like that. Everyone deserves nice things. You deserve that too." Y/N muttered, her hands raised to rub his back ever so slightly. Afraid to woke up Marcel. “I need time to digest all of this if you don't mind.” "I understand, but if you wanna talk or.. or ask something. Let me know, yeah?" he gave her a sad smile. They just celebrate the new year with joy and love, why all of them turned to a mess so suddenly? Y/N nodded before she took him to her embrace. She couldn't help the way Harry looked at her; he was sad and upset. She laughed at herself. Is she sure she wouldn't change her view and behaviour to Harry after this? Whatever happened, she had this relationship with Harry. With someone who she hugs his body and heart right now. Not Marcel that she didn't even know. Her heart was crumbling when she heard small sniffles from him, her neck was slightly wet from.. was he crying? "Harry, no. Don't cry please, love." She mumbled, running her palm up and down in a soothing way. Y/N didn't think he would cry. She knew, the burden was too heavy for him. He carried too much on his shoulders. Harry just shook his head and Y/N let him cry. For the first time, she saw Harry in his vulnerable state. And she didn't like it. She didn't like seeing Harry cry his heart out. . . . . Their Italian holiday was something they couldn't forget. The sweet felt so bitter in the memory. Y/N was too shocked about Harry's confession but she really appreciated his honesty. How was she doing after that? She was quieter and seemed reluctant to do anything. But, she tried to Harry wouldn't feel it. Harry, of course, sensed that. He felt the anxiety, confusion, fear. Was he sad? Did he feel hopeless? It was a lie if he denied it. They tried to behave as normal as possible until their return to London. Nevertheless, the thick air was too real between them. Too suffocating. Too uncomfortable. These past few weeks, Y/N kept her distance from Harry. Kind of. She just didn't want to get into trouble if Marcel decided to show up. Harry couldn't deny the sorrowful filled his heart. He couldn't do anything about it, he was grateful enough Y/N still want to associate with him. They work like usual, nothing changed. It was just the affection Y/N gave to him became less and less. After all, who wanted to date a person like him? On the other side, Y/N knew she shouldn't build a space between them. He was still her Harry. He didn't change. Marcel grew up with him from day one. All she could do was help him, and build trust in him. “So, you've been honest with her?” “Yes, I have.” “How was she doing?” Harry pulled over to the edge of the pool. His back leaned against the tile, his wet hand swept his damp hair to the side. He was in Niall's house in Surrey. He should have visited him at the hospital as usual for his session. But, when Niall heard Harry's raving, he offered his session at his house. He knew Harry would need more composure now. No wonder they were doing his therapy while swimming like this. At first, Niall thought Harry was crazy because he swam in the middle of the winter in January. He had warned him about the snowfall and hypothermia. But Harry being Harry, he reasoned Niall's pool had a heater. "She was.. calm?" he didn't sure, "she didn't freak out like I anticipated. She listened to every single story I told her." Niall frowned, “Isn't that good? “But, that worries me. She now keeps her distance. She doesn't have her usual bubbly character as usual when answering my call. She's a little closed? I don't know.” Harry shook his head, “I tried to act normal, but the situation isn't normal.” “Then, how does she behave when you two are alone? On a date?” Harry now looked at Niall who was across him, who was also staring at him with his clear blue irises. He realised that his friend looked tanner the before. Being an Irish, Niall used to be very pale back then, even Harry mocked him as a member of The Cullen Family when they were in college. “They were normal until we got back home.” He paused, “It was normal but not normal? I couldn't describe it. You surely understand the circumstance. She tried to guard my feelings but she also reserved her feelings, being more cautious.” Niall squinted his eyes when he saw Harry's teeth were chattering. He rolled his eyes, his friend was being too stubborn – didn't realise his body was shivering.     "Get out of the pool, your lips have started to turn blue." He commanded, before going inside to bring a towel to Harry. When he returned with a thick towel and a mug of hot drink, Harry was already sitting on a pool chair. “Thanks.” Harry mumbled when Niall threw the towel to him and handed the hot mug. He sighed when his body became warm shortly after he sipped the drink.     “Were you honest about everything? Like.. everything?” Was he? Harry stunned a little, his gaze was blank to the open view in front of him. He could see the sun ready to set, reminding him of the time before the mess happened. “I think, I wasn't.” said him, “I haven't told her if Dale knew who I am. I mean, he knew Styles isn't my born name.” “And I think, she knows you still have stories that you keep from her.” Niall gave his assumption, “She needs time for her to understand everything, Harry. But, don't let the spaces between you and her ruined everything.” “I know.” “Does that make you sad? Upset?” “Of course. You don't need to ask.” “Then, that's what makes you human. And that's natural. You have feelings that can't be avoided.” The spaces between them not only made Harry upset, but it crushed her slowly. They couldn't keep going on like this. . . . . It was past six when Y/N was getting ready for home. She thought she was the only one left on the floor, but she was wrong. Harry's office lights still on, a sign he was still in there. Her mind and heart told her to check on him, and that was what she does. “Hey, you're not going home yet?” She asked softly after his door opened successfully without needing an access card. She saw Harry was sitting on his chair, his laptop was shut closed. “I was waiting for the sun to set.” He answered, not looking at her. “The sunset on an hour and a half ago, H.” She mumbled, pulling a seat in front of him. Her Harry looked sad, he didn't have the slightest happiness on his face. And it was made her upset. "Oh? Okay, right. I– I should go home then." He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head over his silliness. To be honest, Harry had done all of his work today, he stayed a little longer only to make sure Y/N didn't come home too late. He also missed her; so much until his heart ached. Y/N was playing with her fingers when she had the feeling to urge ask something right now. Hope this is the right time, she thought. “Do you have time, Harry? I want to ask you a few things. If you don't mind.” Her words seemed taken aback by him. But, he nodded eventually – curious about what she wanted to ask, “Go ahead.” ”How did you deal with yourself, after you found out that you're not alone any more?" her voice was very small and faint. Her words kind of confused him, but he understood immediately. “I never dealt with him. I never could deal with all the sadness, betrayal, the anger. That's how Marcel being the second shadow. I never could hold him back, neither I could prevent all of them. The misery always running after me.” He smiled sadly, “Marcel never hurt me because I never hurt him – myself. All I do hope is I can press down my emotions, but he doesn't like it.. because it triggers Marcel to wake up. He takes the control if I can't hold my temper.” “So, every time you were angry, it was Marcel in your body. If you will get angry, it will be Marcel?” Y/N exclaimed, looking at his eyes. His eyes that she missed dearly because she rarely looked at lately. The green eyes that belong to her Harry. “Marcel loves the anger, he hates the insult.” "Is he here right now? Can you feel him?" she asked cautiously, because her next questions might trigger him. “He’s sleeping right now.” He gave her reassurance smile, “If I'm happy, he will getting weak. The happier I am, the weaker he will feel. He can't just disappear like that.” She nodded, “About your father, the biological one. What happened to him after your mum and you moved to Manchester? How did you change to Styles?” "I didn't really know about him, and I don't care. The day mum took me out from the orphanage, she brought me to Manchester right away. My stepfather let me use his last name, and he was happy to do that. My mum never used Reinhard's last name on me, even on my birth certificate. All my childhood friends only knew my last name was Edward." He sighed, "Igor is our lifesaver. He loved my mother, he was very nice to me. The same with Clementia, both of the Styles undoubtedly help us out from the nightmare." His biological father's name was Reinhard... From the way his voice got thick when talking about his father to how soft he told her about his new family, Y/N knew Harry was betrayed and now being loved, such a roller coaster journey for him. She could never understand his pain and misery, but she would try to understand him. It was never really her place to judge him or throw accusation on him. She came to his life when he was on top of his life. She wasn't there when Harry experienced the storm in his life. She was glad Harry could get through it all despite the price he should pay. “You really love your stepfather and stepsister, don't you?” Harry smiled, “I do.” “You must be broken when your stepfather passed away.” “The day Clementia told me the news, that was the first time I cried for losing a father.” “Do you think Reinhard would trying to find you and your mum?” Y/N murmured, picking the right sentence so it wouldn't tickle Marcel. There was a huge silent before Harry answered her question, “I doubt that, it's been fifteen years and we live in peace.” "I once found your journal unintentionally, a leather journal with your birth year written on it. I know what I did was.. wrong, impudent. I’m sorry foe that, but I read a few first pages." She squeaked, afraid to hear her own words.  "My question is.. were you being abused almost every day? By him? Dale? Your friends?" "The pathetic thing is.. before I left for school, that bastard was always ready to drag me out of bed. When I was in school, Dale had hundreds of ways to make me miserable. After returning from school, the bastard was waiting for me to let out his frustration." "Oh, Harry." She gasped, looking at her boyfriends with a sombre look. Not a pity one. Harry wasn't a person who likes to be pitied, and she believed that Marcel was the same. She didn't believe, Harry Styles, who looked perfect from the outside – not a single damage were shown – had felt the cruelty of life before he reached this point. All his patience, his struggle, his tears – really paid him well. “That's why you have Niall, a psychiatrist, be your doctor or a therapist if I could say." "Niall is a friend from college. I was happy knowing he studied psychiatry. He was too shocked when he heard about my condition. One day I met him when he was still on lower level, and I told him my secrets. I remembered he was shaking too hard." Harry cackled, shaking his head. "I told him we're best friends, I trust him to tell my condition, I trust him to help me to go through this. And from then on, he became my personal healer. He's very professional and competent in his work." “Is he the first to know about your condition? Does your family know?” “My mum at first thought I had a psychopathic soul because she had caught me killing the pigeon, but she dismissed it after observing me a few days or weeks; Marcel never did that cruelty again. But yeah, Niall was the one who knew.”

He didn't let his mother know. He didn't let his family know. But, he trusted her. He could have dodged it and continued to cover up this truth. But, Harry trusted her enough to tell his conditions that not everyone could accept. “If I recalled my memories back, the factors that made Marcel come were Dale and Reinhard. After you start a new life in Manchester, went to college, to the States.. what happened with him? I mean, those two figures are no longer in your life, right?” “He's always here. Even the two main factors no longer exist, the anger that I couldn't stand would still wake him up.” He explained, “Because I just can't erase those feelings.” Y/N blinked her eyes. Of course Marcel would stay there with him. He couldn't forget his past, it was part of him that he couldn't let go after all. “How did Marcel react when you met Dale, again?” His shoulder slumped, while his index tapped his cupid bow. Harry seemed to think for a while before answering the question, “This will be a little long since it involves Machtig.” She nodded, “Take your time.” “My stepfather built a small company under Erskine. Since the development was quite good, he asked his best friend to manage the company. They were both successful at running Rollcall, the name at the time. Unfortunately, he was betrayed by his best friend. Rollcall was sold at a fairly high price. My stepfather was furious but he couldn't do anything since he had made his best friend as the commissioner. I don't remember who bought it, but from then on, he moved Erskine headquarters to London. When I returned home after completed my master's degree, on the first day of work replacing him, I discovered that Machtig is Rollcall. A year later, I found out that Dale worked there. I couldn't lie... I felt a huge resentment. But, that feeling peaked when we met at the same event. It was the first time I saw him again after years. Sadly, he worked with a company that Igor should have. Since then, Erskine and Machtig were like mortal enemies. Despite Dale isn't the owner, he holds an important position there." He explained, “But, of course Marcel was furious.” “Does he know that you're the Harry?” she muttered, her eyes wide in concern. If Dale knew he was the Harry, he could use them against Harry in anything business-related. He knew Harry was nothing back then. It must shock him how far Harry became. “He knows," confirmed him, "He knew after a few bidding we attend together. In the beginning, he didn't believe that I am, Harry Styles, is the Harry that he bullied. I don't know how he knew, maybe he hired detective or whatever, it's none of my business. I mean, I wasn't as attractive as now back then. I'm so much better and good looking now." Narcissistic much, huh? Her inner goddess rolled her eyes. “He could use that to bring you and Erskine down.” “He could," he agreed, "But he didn't that. I guess he's mature enough so he knows how to compete healthily. Attacking business competitors with personal matters isn't a good thing." “Does everyone know that you...” “Not many people know that I'm a stepson of Igor Styles.” He interrupted her before Y/N finished her sentence. “Dale doesn't know about Marcel, does he?” Harry shook his head. There was no way Dale knew about his condition. He would never let that happen. Enough for him to knew that Harry was his childhood victim. So many things she knew now, and he told her without hesitation. Another question she had. To be honest, Y/N wasn't comfortable asking these. But, she had to do it so she knew what to do. "I'm sorry if I make you feel burdened, H. I just.. I was just curious. If you know how many questions spinning in my mind." Harry smiled understandably, he was happy Y/N at least curious about what actually happened. He reached out to take her hands on his, “I'm glad you come to ask, not letting your assumption jump into vague conclusion.” She rubbed his hand, giving him composure. “So, how many people know about Marcel?” “Only Niall, my other friend – Mario, and now you.” He admitted quietly, “I'm not easy to be so open with people.” "Not even your family? Your mum? Your.. ex-girlfriend?" Harry shook his head, “I don't want to make my family sad, and.. telling a girlfriend is a risky thing.” “But I am your girlfriend?” Y/N asked dumbfounded. She frowned at the way Harry was laughing at her. Did she say something stupid? “Yes, because I put my whole trust in you.” He said softly, “I know which people I can trust, which the right person for me to tell them.” Even though he knew it was risky to lose Y/N from his life “Did Marcel know about people who knew him? About me?” “Absolutely. You met him on your first day, I believe.” Wrong question. Y/N didn't expect that, she felt her face turn pale quickly. Of course he did! When Harry looked at her with a strange look she failed to recognise, with the darker eyes.. it was him. "What about his victims? He killed a few people." She blurted the question without thinking it first. She saw Harry's face changed, looked like she ticked him wrongly. Y/N squinted her eyes, didn't dare to look him in the eyes. She was afraid that Marcel was in front of her right now, instead of her Harry. “Why you closed your eyes, darling? I'm Harry. Marcel let me explain them to you.” Y/N opened her eyes slowly. The first thing she saw was a pair of eyes she recognised, Harry's eyes. “This will sound a bit arrogant but I use my connection to finish his job. Mario, he is the council of NCA. That's why my name always clean, never have a criminal record. And that's why the police never call if I did something." He grimaced at his words, didn't like how it came out of his mouth. He watched her face who looked confused. She opened her mouth, but close it right away – as if hesitant to say it. "Can I ask you something?" it was Harry's turn to ask, he had to use this opportunity to make everything clear. Y/N nodded, "Yeah?" “How do you feel? After everything I told you?” Harry looked at Y/N calmly despite his heart was beating so freaking fast. He was getting impatient when Y/N took her time to be quiet for a moment. Which every second of it killed him slowly. Slowly, she rose from her seat – getting down on her knees. Harry was utter confused by her; what was she doing? "You said you put the whole trust on me, and entrust me to be the person to see you very open. So I can understand you from all angles." She smiled, placing her hands on his thighs. "I can't let you be the only one who trusts me wholly. I trust you with all of the pieces in my body and my soul. You deserve my highest trust, H." “Whatever will be, you're still my Harry. I have to accept everything on you.” Harry grabbed her arms, bringing her closer. Kissed her dearly before his Y/N could see the tears in his eyes, rolling down his cheek. He was too happy. His feelings that he couldn't describe, it was suffocating him in different way. Harry repeatedly whispered words of thanks between their kisses. This was much better than he imagined. “H, darling. Let's get home, it's almost eight.” Y/N laughed, pushing his face away. She frowned looking at the damp tears in his cheek, then wiping them softly, “Why are you crying?” “I'm just happy that's all.” He sniffled, “Let's go, darling. Let me drive you home.” . . . . “So, your birthday is in a week, where do you want to celebrate?” Harry murmured, his fingers stroking Y/N hair softly. The two of them were in her apartment, laying cosily in her couch. It was Saturday afternoon. After they work out together, Harry chose to go home to Y/N. Of course she was happy, it had been a long time Harry hadn't come to her house. "I don't know. Every time I celebrate my birthday, there were awkward incidents after that. Like when I was celebrating my twentieth birthday, my friend broke the glass table because she hit the pinata wrong since she was drunk." Y/N laughed in shame, her hands tightened the blanket covering both of them, it was raining outside, the air got colder – the more it makes her lazy to move from her position. “Really?” he snickered, adjusting her body in his lap. He knew too well she was cold. He could feel her goosebumps and her shoulders shaking once in a while. "Another birthday fail was I once blew out a large white candle because my friend forgot to bring the birthday candle, and instead she asked the waiter if they had candles.” Her laughter made Harry laughed along, imagining if he was her on that day. "Okay, I give you a deadline to tell me what you want in three days. " Harry said cheekily, pinching her cheek. "And I promise there won't be any birthday failure involve." “And if I don't know what I want?” Y/N challenged him, lifting her head so she could see him. He just shook his head, before squeezing her cheeks until her lips puckered like a fish. He kissed her puckering lips, “You have to wait and find out!” Harry swatted her hands away from his hair as her fingers tugging his little sprout. His hair was getting long and he had tied some strands that covered his forehead. Yet, it was a bad idea because Y/N loved to pull it. “She's so cute! She should appear more.” Y/N cooed, playing with a little strand from his sprout. She smiled noticing he wore her scrunchies to tie his hair. “My hair is long enough to get trim but I'm too lazy to do that.” Harry stroked his hair with his fingers, watching how long his hair had grown. “Why don't you let it grow? I'm curious if your hair is long.” “Trust me if you want a princess hair on me, you won't like it.” He laughed, “My hair is so easy to get greasy.” "Who said that I want a princess' hair? Just let it grow by your shoulder. You would look sexy I bet." She hummed, wiggling her eyebrow yet her innocent eyes seducing him. Y/N gasped when Harry buckling his hips on her, she could feel his growing bulge down there. She exhaled when he brought her mouth close to her ears, "You think so?" “I –”  she choked on her words when he decided to attack her lips. Both of them now only fixated with the sound of raindrops and their clashing lips; of how they warmed themselves to each other. One thing led another, they knew their voices would be louder than the sound of rain out there. If they wouldn't stop now. . . Please excuse some errors. Chat me here!