#I won’t shut up about this for the next 3000 years
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Please tell me why I only just now found this movie ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ an absolute masterpiece I’m sobbing
Matsuoka Yoshitsugu + BL will never NOT be my absolute fucking kryptonite I swear
#the stranger by the shore#umibe no etranger#shunmio#mioshun#mio chibana#shun hashimoto#matsuoka yoshitsugu#this movie was so good#i’m shaking#just found my new hyperfixation#I won’t shut up about this for the next 3000 years
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Moving Places
Miraculous Ladybug | 2019 | 2,838 | Ao3 | @chimpukampu and @ZiriO
Adrien Agreste and Marinette Agreste, parents of 3, are finally moving to a bigger home. That forces them to reckon with a heap of stuff that's been collecting and gathering dust over the years. Things get a little... funny and fluffy.
“Adrien, We’ve been through this a thousand times. We need to trim things down this once. We’re not taking everything!”
Yes, that’s how moving homes usually happens, but it’s always a reason for a little bit of bickering, but some endearing moments included too. Adrien and Marinette Agreste, parents for 3, have been waiting for this for a long while now, and yet…
Their kwamis hovered about with amused looks, Plagg more so than Tikki, wondering what might get unearthed.
The boxes rattled as Adrien moved them about. A slight puff of dust bloomed from one as it was opened, giving the air a very mild acrid smell.
“I think we haven’t opened these up since the last time we moved, if not the time before! Isn’t that a hint, Adrien?”
“Mari, we are not touching my Ladybug collection! Look, it’s a collector’s edition!”
Adrien brushed off some of the dust and pressed the button on the doll.
“Time to de-evilize!” a high-pitched voice emanated from it as Adrien smiled. “See? It still works!”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Can I try too?” Marinette snickered. “Time to de-evilize!” She called in a theatrical fashion. “So, who did it better?”
Adrien’s smile widened into a full-fledged grin.
“Hey, I never said I didn’t have the single-issue real thing in my collection” he cooed.
“Oh do you now?”
“I could show you but then we’d never get any packing done.” He jested and then his face went a bit more serious. This turned their attention to the heap of stuff still waiting for them to sort through.
“Fine.” She grumbled at the missed opportunity. “But the monopoly box goes. That one was a mistake.”
They looked at a miraculous-themed monopoly board. A cheapskate producer named Zag somehow convinced them this was a good idea. By the time he started to leak pictures to the press, it was hard for them to stop it. It was a good thing that Chloe found them a legal loophole and used her family’s clout to threaten him to a halt. But they did have the box to remember that one.
“How on earth did he convince us to do such a silly thing?”
“The guy had charm and a good deal of luck.”
“Mari, do you think it’s the power of-”
“Adrien Agreste, don’t you dare!”
“You practically walked into that one, milady… “
“If only I could toss away all your puns at that.” She sighed.
“Actually, you sort of did last time, don’t you remember?”
“Please don’t remind me. I was horrified. A notebook full of lame puns!”
“You can’t get them out of my head though.”
“If your lips are busy they can’t throw puns around, you know.” she winked and he smiled back at her.
We are never going to get any packing done like that…
---
A quick kiss later, they were back to sorting stuff.
“What’s that? Is that Emma’s first pacifier?” She said as she examined one.
“Oh yeah. I keep hoping we can still use it. That girl won’t shut up!” He jested.
“Out it goes! Our girl is all grown up now, maybe it’s time someone else would grow up too!”
“Hey, it’s always good to have a reminder of us growing up. After all, we have 3 kids and you still don’t look a day over 3000.”
“Now you know why I’m so much wiser than you.” She retorted. “Now let’s get back to packing, you… adorable goober of a flirt, you.”
She gave him another quick kiss. He earned that one too. They both looked at the next item.
“A solitaire thinking challenge? Aren’t our kids too old for that?”
“Well, there was a time when you couldn't think straight around me. And you were adorable.”
“Adrien Agreste, If I had known this was going to haunt me all through our marriage… I’d do it all again.” She chuckled. “Anyway, what the hell is this?”
They both looked at a box full of a random assortment of seemingly useless stuff.
“I’m… saving this for Emma? Kidding, I have no idea what’s exactly in it. There’s only one way to find out.”
They cautiously opened the box, looking at a mix of extremely oddball items, scratching their heads at each one trying to figure out what’s it doing there.
“A gecko-shaped pendant? What’s that doing here?”
“Emma made one on art class.”
“And we’re keeping this… why?” She gave him a stare over it.
“It’s… uhh… we can play pretend it’s a real miraculous?” He suggested half-jokingly, only to be met with Marinette’s stern look as she discarded it into the trash.
“She made A ladybug themed brooch?”
“She’s a big fan, you know…”
“I can understand that, but why are we keeping it?”
“Uhh…”
Marinette threw that one into the box marked “for cataclysm”.
“A lego toy welding machine? Who had this stupid idea?”
“It’s Max… and he’s smart so maybe it was a smar-okay it really was a stupid idea, she never even opened it. Too bad Alix never stopped him!”
“That can go to the donations pile. Next!”
“What’s a map of Jerusalem doing here?”
“Geography class, I guess?”
“But how’s that a souvenir when we’ve never even been there?”
Marinette crumpled the thing into a ball and threw it to the trash.
“An ad for a Louvre exhibition from 2015? So useless.”
“We could sell it on eBay...”
Marinette rolled her eyes.
“God, sometimes the things you say actually make me prefer a pun. And that’s a major achievement, Mr. Agreste!”
She sighed as she went on.
“An aimee mann CD? Do we even have anything that can play these things?”
“No, we don’t…”
“Donations pile. Next?”
“A defunct Wacom pad… you said you were going to get it fixed like what, 2 years ago?”
“I still plan on… okay you can throw this.”
Marinette had fond memories of that one, she used it to do quite a bit of sketching, and yet even she couldn’t but admit that no, she wasn’t going to get that one fixed. She then moved on to the next item.
“Okay… what the hell is this?”
They both examined a pink rod with a heart-shaped fake gem on top.
“Oh, I brought this back from Japan to Emma. I think it appeared in some anime or something.”
“I am letting you bring too much trash in, and that’s the result… sometimes I am just way too nice with you.”
“It’s my kitten face, bugaboo. It’s irresistible. Besides, she actually used that one on Halloween!”
A stern look and Adrien threw the thing into the Cataclysm box. Marinette then examined the next item.
“A dream catcher? Oh yes, I remember now. You bought this for me after I told you what was my nightmare in ‘sandboy’!”
“Oh, what fond memories that one brings…”
Adrien had a sly smile on his face as he started to play-act his part.
“Marinette… the prettiest and the smartest one of all is Chloe…”
“Now there's the holder I know,” Plagg snarked. “So good to have you back.”
“My god… what a mistake that was…” Marinette gently touched her palm to her forehead at her husband’s act as she came up with the retort.
“Do I have to remind you I can play-act your nightmare too?”
That did the trick, snapping him back.
“Please don’t do that… You’re the lady of my dreams, bugaboo! I even have a ring to prove it now.”
“Adrien, flattery is going to get you… actually, going to get you good things. Keep up at that.”
They exchanged yet another quick kiss.
Adrien eyed another box, around the size of an A4 page. As he reached out to grab it, he heard his wife squeak a ‘No’ at him.
“What, Mari, what’s in that one?”
She turned slightly pink, reminding him for a moment of that blushing teenager from Francois Dupont college that he ended up marrying.
“Uhhh… umm…”
He carefully opened it. The first page had a drawing of Marinette wearing a grey superhero costume with a pink skip-rope and pink hair ribbon, with the caption “Mousinette”.
“Ha, so you drew yourself as the Mouse superheroine! That’s…”
She lost her blush by now. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, after all.
“Yes, that’s… ?” She urged him to complete his sentence.
“That would have been real hot, sweetie. I’d pay to see you dressed up in Halloween like that!”
“In that case…” She said as she put her finger thoughtfully at her chin, “... a dinner out for two, as your payment?”
“You know I would have done it anyway after we finish packing, right?”
“I know you well enough by now, dear husband.” She smiled and booped his nose affectionately.
“Well, I should certainly hope so.” He grinned, thumbing the edges of the pages. “So….how much of this sketchbook did you fill, again?”
“I usually fill all the pages, why?” Her eyes narrowed, regret and the sudden thought that maybe she needed more than a dinner out as payment starting to creep over her.
“Mind if I keep looking?”
“Adrien, we are never going to get done at this rate!”
“Yes, but how often do I get to look through your old art?” The kitten eyes made a swift comeback, leaving Marinette groaning in disgust.
“Fine, but you get five minutes!” Which was enough to sate his curiosity, or at least she hoped.
“So why did I never see this cute bee costume on you? Or this amazing Ladybug-themed dress?” He pouted, though that was nothing compared to the look on his face when he came across a sketch of her as Chat Noir, with a massive ribbon for the tail.
“No. Don’t even ask, I won’t make it. That ribbon is a joke, and the peplum look went out of style years ago!”
“Marinette!” He was sulking now, pouting as he lifted the sketch.
“Absolutely not, besides, there’s no way I could put the pawprints on the gloves and shoes, it’d look ridiculous at my age!” He still sulked, but she shook her head anyway. Somebody had to put their foot down, or they’d never get anywhere.
Which, yeah that was normal. Downsizing to move always took forever. How did they even end up with this much stuff?
“You looked at my art, now we need to go through one of your boxes.” Marinette decreed, grabbing a box with the label ‘Adrien’. She unfolded the flaps and sighed. “We can’t get rid of these, pass me the next one.”
“What are they?” Adrien set down the sketchbook, a drawing of a Tiger holder displayed, to peek over her shoulder. “We were supposed to put those on the mantel ages ago, weren’t we?”
“I think so.” Marinette pulled a fencing trophy out of the box, turning it over in her hands. “I completely forgot we had these.”
“Think we’ll be able to put them up at the new house?”
“If there’s not space, maybe we can add in a few shelves? Emma’s going to start competing with Akari soon, if they continue at this rate.”
“Purr-fect idea, as always, M’lady.” Adrien draped himself over her shoulder batting his eyelashes at her.
“Okay, where’s the tape? I should relabel this one so we don’t forget again.”
Adrien pulled himself off her, scooping the masking tape and marker up and depositing them in her lap. “While you do that, I’m going to go through this one.” Adrien moved a few feet away, dragging the box back with him. “Are assignments important enough to be kept again?”
“Which assignments?”
“Cat breeds.”
Marinette groaned. “That wasn’t an assignment, Adrien, that was from you trying to bribe Chloe into getting Hugo a cat for Christmas.”
“Oh yeah. Can we keep it?”
Marinette shot him her most deadpan look. Adrien replied with puppy-dog eyes. Marinette sighed. “Fine. Toss it into the maybe pile.”
“Yes!”
“Moving on, have you found the box with the photo albums yet?”
“Not yet, I’ll get to them. When we have a break.”
“Why?”
“Chloe and Emma baby pictures.”
Marinette stifled a laugh. “Yeah, okay.” She glanced back into her current box. “I found Emma’s old EAH dolls, do you think she’ll still want them?”
“No idea.”
“Into the maybe pile, we can check with her later.”
“Good idea.”
Silence for a moment, and then Adrien snorted.
“What did you find?”
Adrien leaned back to look at Marinette, smirking. “Remember your crush?”
Marinette pouted. “You already teased me about that today. Is it still not old?”
“Not when all the memorabilia right here.”
“Not when the- Oh!” Marinette shrieked, scrambling over to him. “You found them! Finally! I seriously thought Master Fu had taken them.” She smiled brightly.
“Why would Master Fu take them?”
Marinette blushed scarlet. “Alya didn’t tell you. Of course not. Okay. Um, actually. Oh dear it’s kind of embarrassing. Why is it embarrassing? It wasn’t when I told Alya and Master Fu. Maybe it’s because it’s you. Oh boy. Okay so-” Marinette’s rambling died off in a whine as she buried her face in her hands. “It’s only embarrassing because it’s you. It was actually really smart at the time. Uh, move the top hundred or so.”
Adrien blinked at her reply, before turning back to the box. “What did you do?” he asked slowly, gathering up photos and slowly moving them out stack by stack. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Marinette peeked over her fingers. “No one ever looked under that stuff, so it was the safest place to hide my research.”
“You never fail to amaze me,” Adrien snorted. “Using your crush to protect your identity? Constant multitasking at its’ best.”
“It was multistorage actually.” she tapped her head. “One track mind.”
They carefully dug through the box a little more, pages upon pages of translations and coded information sitting at the bottom, with cardboard dividers in between the layers. They pulled another set off, and Marinette promptly collapsed backwards, laughing.
“Are these the Kwami-sitting dolls?” Adrien asked, pulling the Pollen and Plagg ones out of the box.
“Those are the Kwami-sitting dolls,” Marinette confirmed, wheezing.
Marinette’s foot snagged something pointy, and when she stepped back to inspect the object, she grimaced “Adrien Chat Noir Agreste, bring your ass in here!”
“What is it M’ - whoa!” he stopped momentarily while schooling a dumbfounded look “What is that doing here?”
“You tell me,” she snarled as she spread out a big tarp of an old Gabriel perfume ad.
“Well, you said that you love fashion, and you want to update your ‘mini’” he made an air quote there “Adrien shrine -”
“Adrien!”
“Radiant,” the blond uttered dramatically as he reenacted his commercial ad “Carefree...Dreamy…”
Before he could finish the line, his wife hurled the incriminating poster and hit him squarely to the face.
‘ Why did I marry that man-child? ’ Marinette muttered to herself as she returned to her work, trying not to mind her crying husband, then paused when she saw another familiar banner.
“Why is this thing still here?”
“I swear to Plagg this is the only tarp that I saved... Oh. Oh, that .”
It was an old banner with a logo of a fencing team and quote in bold letters ‘ Excel and Power Pointe ’
“I thought Louis threw this?”
“He thought he threw it,” he smirked toothily as he walked towards his wife and snatched it from her hands “He didn’t know that his Papa saved it.”
Marinette gave him a beady look “You know that Louis will throw that again, right?”
“Not if we keep it.” Adrien retorted cheekily.
She rolled her eyes indignantly “C’mon, Kitty. This is just a dumb cheering banner you made for Louis’ fencing tournament, and he really hates it so much he had to knock his opponents in a short record time because he didn’t want to see that banner waving on his sight!”
“That’s more the reason why we have to keep it!”
“You’re just keeping this because of the pun!”
“That’s because it’s a good pun!”
“No, it’s not!”
“Will you two just stop this marital fight?” Plagg hovered above their faces, scowling “You’re both adults, for Kwami’s sake, not a toddler!”
“What Plagg was saying,” Tikki added with a smile “That you two were shouting so loud the neighbors heard your bickerings.”
The couple blushed furiously and apologetically resumed to their task.
Soon they had finished with the last box, and after repacking it - There was nothing in there they would have actually gotten rid of, they went through it for memories and to kill time - went back to work on the other boxes. Thankfully there weren’t that many that had been abandoned for the four years since they last moved.
They Lapsed into silence for a little bit, each finding their own boxes of miscellaneous things to go through. Occasional laughs, or questions, broke the silence, but for the most part it was just that. Silence as they prepared for a huge change that was to come.
#Collab fic#Jaymeow writes#old fic#old writing#Plagg#Tikki#miraculous ladybug#adrien agreste#marinette dupain-cheng#mlb#Crossposting spam#this was a collab where we each wrote a couple paragraphs#t'was fun#that's all
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BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”
Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”
Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.
so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can
OMG FLASHBACK??
yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions
oh dear
Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE
EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES
???
RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!
ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us
?? ??????? ?????????????????????
so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol
OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!
A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]
so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that
-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect
LMAO
WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”
oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime
blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI
“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN
“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh
“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”
“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier
LSDKFJLSDKJFLK
“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI
(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)
so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”
and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”
“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas
dsfaelkjldkjgl
you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??
this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed
“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim
anyway so back to the unruly mob
not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap
oh wow the parents are out here too
is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys
MONOMA
so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this
anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW
and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/
it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”
so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez
OH MY GOD
MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED
OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT
truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand
“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao
(ETA:
WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)
“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason
narrator: they did not listen to reason
oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE
hmm
this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol
(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)
oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively
“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako
lol uh
gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off
SDLFKJSL
“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”
so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH
OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY
not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that
-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!
sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech
never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him
THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK
“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth
so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol
#bnha 323#uraraka ochako#rat principal#class 1-a#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part one
Summary: Draco and y/n find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every single night.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! reader (implied pure blood for the storyline to work)
Warnings: Excessive smoking, mature language, mature themes, no full fledged smut till now. Also please remember that the characters have all been aged up in all of my stories.
18+ Content
A/n: A pack of cigarettes on my desk seduced me into writing this one (smoking is injurious to health)
Word count: 3000
Monday
To say that Draco Malfoy was your friend was a bit of an exaggeration.
The two of you tolerated each other at most.
Having grown up in the same friend circle that consisted of Theo, Blaise, Pansy, you’d both learned how to remain perfectly civil.
Of course, it wasn’t always that easy.Sometimes the blonde git got on your last nerve.
Just last week, Theo had to pull him back by his robe and Pansy had to clutch tightly onto your arm because you and Draco were this close to hexing each other’s faces off.
And today Blaise looked anything but pleased about his choice of seat at your Potions class. The boy who donned a calm, cool and collected—almost condescending expression on most days leaned against the table in a bracing position while you and Draco yelled at each other from his left and right.
“You have to stir it twice. Clockwise.” Draco scoffed rolling his eyes as he watched you stir your Draught of Living Death potion.
“Clockwise y/n—No! no! No— y/n you are doing it all wrong. That’s anti-clockwise! Can you get any more stupid?! Merlin!”
“Why don’t you do it yourself instead of sitting over there, crossing your fucking arms and barking out instructions.” You shot back getting angrier by the minute.
“You should be glad I’m here to give you instructions. If it were up to you, the whole classroom would be up in flames by now.” He said icily, picking up a Sopophorous bean and observing it.
“In case you haven’t noticed already, I never asked for your help Malfoy!”
“And I did not ask to work with you and Zabini on this stupid potion y/l/n.”
“And I most certainly did not ask to be put in between two bickering children but here I am. Life isn’t fair now is it?!” Blaise snapped causing you both to retreat back into your seats.
That’s how your days usually went by.
And your nights...well your nights weren’t particularly any better. In fact, it was always the same old routine.
You stared up at the ceiling and focused on the creaking sound your bed made while your long time boyfriend Adrian Pucey chased his release on top of you.
He was always a blubbering, sweaty mess and you lightly stroked his hair and closed your eyes wondering why you felt nothing at all.
You were devoid of all emotion and pleasure—wondering if you were broken.
There was no pleasure and no pain.
And after Adrian’s quick departure, your room reeked of sex and sweat and your pillow would sometimes be wet with tears.
Sex with Adrian felt like nothing at all even though you loved him.
Adrian was gentle, almost too gentle and you had come to a conclusion that orgasms and passionate sex that left you wanting for more was nothing but a myth.
You channeled all the energy you had left into slipping your clothes back on. You lethargically wiped at your mascara stained cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater before slamming your door shut behind you.
Discreetly, you exited the dungeons and let your feet guide you all the way towards an empty and abandoned classroom with a huge window and a windowsill wide enough for sitting.
Nobody really paid much attention to the classroom and going there felt like hiding in plain sight. Going there in the middle of the night had somewhat become a night time ritual for you.
You quickly got comfortable on the moonlit windowsill and took deep calming breaths—filling your lungs up with the air around you.
The air had a stench of nicotine these past few weeks and It hurt your head at first. But now, you’d learned to ignore it.
Everything felt silent and tranquil for a brief moment until you started to hear moans and groans coming from the other side of the classroom door.
The sounds made your blood freeze and you closed your eyes, mumbling an inaudible prayer to the universe. The last thing you needed was an awkward encounter with the people making out on the other side of the door.
It didn’t take very long before the door started to creak and shake violently.
The creaking only got louder and louder. As did the moaning and groaning and cursing.
Soon, the shaking of the door came to an abrupt halt followed by a shrill post-coital giggle.
You closed your eyes and finally heaved a huge sigh of relief when you heard the pitter patter footsteps walking away from the room.
“What the fuck are you doing here y/l/n?” A familiar voice startled you and you held your breath hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.
You opened only one eye and looked at the door that had been flung open.
Draco Malfoy stood on the other side of the now open door with the buckle of his belt still undone, his shirt all disheveled and his silver hair in a state of disarray from being yanked on.
“I would ask you the same question but it’s best if you don’t tell me.” You gagged.
The corners of his lips twisted into a typical Malfoy-esque smirk as he used his thumb to wipe his bottom lip.
“Well, would you like me to show you instead?”
“Smooth.” You muttered, letting out a sarcastic chuckle at his words while he sat down next to you on the windowsill.
Malfoy was the last person you wanted to see that night. Especially after Potions class.
Even though you were looking out the window, you felt his eyes linger on you through your peripheral vision. He was drenched in the moonlight seeping in through the large window giving his place skin a pearlescent glow.
Although Malfoy had maintained an unreadable expression on his face, his prying eyes gave everything away.
“Pucey?” He finally said.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been crying haven’t you?” He asked, lifting your chin up with his index finger and observing the redness around your nose and the puffiness around your eyes.
“Since when do you care?” You jeered, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I don’t.” He shrugged abruptly pulling his hand back—letting your face fall.
He turned towards the window, put a cigarette between his lips and lit it up. After taking a long drag, he tilted his head around to look at you again. “I just don’t think Pucey is worth crying over. If you’re crying over hi—”
“Merlin’s beard Malfoy! It’s you. You’ve been smoking your stupid cigarettes here haven’t you?” You cut him off with your eyes widening in realisation.
“I have.”
“And all this time I thought I was hallucinating the smell of smoke.”
“Sorry to break it to you y/l/n but I’ve been coming here since the fourth year.”
Wisps of smoke came out of his mouth and drifted all the way to the tip of your nose when he exhaled.
“I come here all the time.” He continued. “Sometimes alone and sometimes—”
“You bring a poor naive girl here for a quickie.” you finished his sentence coughing and swatting the air around you. “Who were you shagging outside anyway?” You asked, arching your eyebrows.
“Since when do you care?” He retorted.
“Touché.”
~~~~~~~~
Tuesday
“That poor girl you were with last night sounded like she was in pain.” You commented the next night dangling your legs outside the window as Draco stood next you, smoking.
“I am assuming Pucey is horrible in bed then.” He snickered making your cheeks heat up.
“He isn’t horrible.” You protested as he inspected the slightest amount of dust gathered in the corner of the windowsill paying little to no attention to you.
“He’s just…” you trailed off in your pathetic attempt to justify Adrian’s subpar bedroom skills.
“Go on love.” He mocked, lighting up another cigarette and extending his hand to offer you one. "Tell me."
"You are the last person I wanna discuss my sex life with.” You snapped pushing his hand along with the pack of cigarettes away from you.
~~~~~~~~
Wednesday
You gathered your hair up and threw on a silk robe over your slip dress and walked towards your usual spot in the abandoned classroom.
You found yourself subconsciously waiting for Draco to show up as you leaned against the glass window.
After a few minutes, he was quietly standing next to you staring outside the window that overlooked the school courtyard.
He placed a cigarette between his lips and turned to look at you. “You want one?”
You shook your head as you watched him light the one between his lips up—observing the way he inhaled and the way wisps of smoke came out of his mouth.
The wisps drifted your way and you didn’t even bother to fan it away.
Instead you took a sharp breath.
It felt like your brain was slowly associating the scent of smoke with him.
“Didn’t find anybody to shag tonight?” You asked in a feeble attempt to break the silence.
This made him turn his head to look at you—the true blue specks in his otherwise grey eyes glistened in cool tones and you felt a strange ache inside of you.
“Nope. Not anyone that I’d like to shag anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“I won’t be surprised if I find you loitering around the Ravenclaw tower in a few nights—considering you have been with every other Slytherin girl I know.”
He shot you a bone chilling glare before flashing a devious looking grin.
“You’re in Slytherin.” Draco drawled, taking a step towards you.
“Your point?” You looked at him quizzically, taking a step back but Draco took a step towards you for every step you took away from him until you felt the coolness of the wall behind your back.
His palms rested on the wall on either side of your face as he stared down at you with his glacial eyes— the mere intensity of his gaze made you want to look away.
It was just too much.
The way his shirt was unbuttoned at the top and the way platinum colored strands of hair fell onto his face helped you understand why girls pined over him. You tried so very hard to hold your breath but failed in miserable fashion has his face inched closer and closer to you.
He let his slender fingertips trail on your waves before tucking the stray bits behind your ears.
“I hardly think I’ll find myself at the Ravenclaw tower anytime soon.” He raspily whispered into your ears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday
He was in a rather foul mood that night.
Quidditch practice in the rain had gone on for a bit too long and to top it all off, his father had paid him a visit right after.
“Is everything alright Draco?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest and turning to face the exhausted looking boy standing next to you, with his hair still damp from his shower.
“Just perfect.”
“Doesn’t look like it.” You commented running your eyes up and down his frame, earning a disdainful scoff from him. “Anyway, how was quidditch practice? Adrian was telling me it got quite intense today.”
“Well well, looks like someone is feeling rather chatty tonight.”
“Okay, nevermind the quidditch talk. How’s Narscissa? My mum owled me about the upcoming New year's ball at your Manor—something about an announcement.” You scratched your head trying to remember what the letter said as you looked at him again. The bare minimum light cast soft, fuzzy looking shadows on his angular features.
“You aren’t usually this annoying. Is there any way you will stop with your ramblings!?” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before fumbling with his pocket to pull out another cigarette.
You quickly stood from the windowsill and reached for a very distraught looking Draco’s hand.
“We don't have to talk if you don’t want to, Draco.” You said quietly as you looked up at him.
“Then what do you suggest we do hm, y/n?” He asked more or less rhetorically as he pulled you towards him.
You thought you’d forgotten how to breathe by the way he said your name. You weren’t particularly fond of your name but the way he said it made you want to thank your parents for picking out your name—the same name he said so smoothly and easily, with tension and emphasis on all the right places.
“I—I was thinking we could just quietly sit out here—maybe open up the window and breathe in some fresh air. It's rather pleasant for a rainy night don't you think?” You babbled.
At your mention of a pleasant night, he turned away from you to face the window, occasionally surveying the half smoked cigarette between his fingers as you opened the window.
“We could do that actually.” Draco finally said in a calm voice, taking a prolonged drag from his cigarette from the corner of his mouth and tossing it carelessly to the ground before stomping on it. “Or—”
“Or?”
“Or....” He said with his silver eyes muddled and darkened into an opaque grey. “We could just do this.”
You couldn't even begin to comprehend why or even how, but his nicotine infused lips softly came crashing down onto yours making your heart pound loudly against your ribcage. The way he pressed his lips to yours—the connection made you lightheaded.
What was even more surprising was the fact that you kissed him back even harder.
Compiling to all of his requests.
When he nipped your bottom lip, you parted your mouth.
When his tongue met yours, you moaned softly into this mouth.
When he cupped your face to draw you in closer as his tongue seduced, tantalized, licked, and sucked, you surrendered.
The sweetness of your lips only made him want you more as he wondered how he had gone so long without his lips pressed up against yours, his thumb gently yet possessively caressing your cheek.
And now that he’d gotten a taste, he wasn't sure he could make do without it.
He wanted this.
He needed this.
There was something so sublime, so achingly beautiful about kissing your lips that a million different thoughts encircled his mind.
Why did it suddenly feel like his thirst was gradually being quelled by the way your mouth, your breathing, your pulse melded into his?
Your fingertips intertwining with the hair on the nape of his neck pacified him.
This was unfamiliar territory.
You were both treading uncharted waters and yet, there was something soothing and familiar about the way he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling and remembering your curves.
“That ought to keep you quiet y/n.” He whispered, his voice hoarse and saturated with yearning as he pulled away.
The rain outside had transformed into a tempestuous storm and the wind brought in splatters of rain drops inside the classroom window colliding against both of your skin and clothes.
You turned your head to look outside. “Looks like the weather is no longer pleasant.”
His eyes mirrored the flash of lighting that lit up the night sky in shades of lilac, yellow and violet back at you as the sky roared.
“But I kinda like the storm you kno—” Your attempt to finish your sentence was futile.
Lightning struck again but this time in the depths of your heart as his cold, damp, rain-soaked lips brushed against yours in an urgent fashion. The way he aggressively moved his lips made you see more colours than just lilac, yellow and violet.
Magnificent shades of cerulean, emerald, crimson, and burgundy. You could see them all.
"I have pictured kissing you a thousand times over in my mind." he murmured into the kiss while the hand he had placed on your waist trailed down to your hips.
“Draco.” You mewled as your hands found their way to the back of his shirt, gripping onto the fabric tightly for support while you let his ravenous mouth place kisses along your jaw and clavicles.
"You drive me...mmmm... fucking insane y/n. You make me.. mmm..so fucking furious" He whispered between kisses with his fingertips digging into your skin hidden under layers of fabric.
"As do you. I know..hmmmm..the difference...fuck...between clockwise and...mmhh..Anticlockwise." You said breathlessly pulling him flush against you.
Draco backed you further into the wall and his fingertips lingered on the string of your silk robe and you guided his hands through the knots and tangles of the string and let the robe fall onto the floor.
He found his way underneath your slip dress and let his hands roam around your bare flesh turning you into a whimpering mess.
Your own hands trailed to the buttons of his shirt as the aching need to feel his bare skin grew.
And when his shirt did hit the ground, you greedily ran your hands all over his firm chest and toned abdomen— your mouth watering while the flimsy fabric of your panties turned damp.
When he felt you palm the tent forming in his trousers, he smirked and the kiss came to an abrupt stop and his eyes fluttered open.
He pressed his forehead against yours—shoulders rising and falling from his heavy breathing.
"Not yet. " He murmured with his breathing still laboured.
"Draco—"
He shut you up with another kiss before backing away and walking towards the door.
"Good night y/n." He smirked, fixing his clothes as he stood near the door.
“Uh, good night?!” You mumbled, dumfounded.
"y/n?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him.
To be continued.....
~~~~~~
Part 2 teaser:
"Took you long enough." Draco breathed,holding you tightly against him as he desperately ran his hands along your sides feeling the fabric of your silky nightdress.
"I was going to stay away. I tried so fucking hard." You whispered, and he instantly placed his lips onto yours furrowing his brows as you fiercely kissed him back.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @maybesandohnos ❤️
~~~~~~~~~~~
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#harry potter#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#slytherin#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco x slytherin!reader#draco x you
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Off to War
Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 3000+
Author's Note: I finally got an idea for 40's Bucky and I'm so happy with how this came out. This man is plaguing my brain and I'm so okay with it. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think. 🥰
"I wish you didn't have to leave," you whisper to the tall brunette, your eyes glued to Bucky's hand that's resting on your lap.
Bucky hums in response and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together before gently squeezing. "I wish I didn't have to leave either. I never wanted this life," he mumbles and you frown as your thumb gently strokes the back of his hand. "I mean, what are you and Steve going to do without me? I won't be here to protect you."
Your heart flutters at his words, always loving the caring side of him. A side only you and Steve knew about. Bucky's a bit of a player, always has been since he was in high school. He's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, and you happen to be hopelessly in love with him.
"Steve and I can try to take care of ourselves. My older brother has been teaching me how to defend myself. I've got some skill now," you wink and earn a chuckle from the twenty-six-year-old.
"Yeah, but the thing is you shouldn't have to. You're a woman for God's sake. No man should be treating you the way you've been treated," Bucky argues and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with him. "If I could take you with me, I would. I'd keep you safe, doll."
Your cheeks flush at the compliments pouring from his lips, looking away from the brunette. "Bucky…" you trail off and your eyes meet his blue ones, seeing an emotion you've hardly seen in them before.
"Can I just-" he cuts himself off to lean in closer, feeling his nose brush against yours. "Just this once."
You clear your throat as Bucky moves his hand down your sides and rests on your hips. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his lips grazing against yours, your breath catching in your throat. "Kiss me," you whisper and Bucky immediately captures your lips with his.
You're wrapping your arms around his neck, running your hands through his hair as you kiss him back feverishly. Butterflies swirl around your stomach as Bucky pushes you back, laying you against the cushions of your couch.
He hovers over you as his fingertips graze along the length of your neck. Bucky pulls away from you, both of you breathing heavily as your faces are still close. "Now, I definitely don't want to leave," Bucky sighs while resting his forehead against yours.
Your heart pounds against your chest and hums in reply, combing your fingers through his hair. "That's- Jesus," you stumble over your words, causing your best friend to laugh.
"Cat got your tongue, doll?" He smirks and you roll your eyes playfully as Bucky sits back up.
Before you can say anything your front door opens, both of you glancing towards it to see Steve walking into the place. His blue eyes dance between you and Bucky, an inquisitive look on his face.
"Everything okay?" Steve asks while moving to sit in one of the recliners. You and Bucky nod your head simultaneously, eyes glancing at one another's for a quick second.
"Yeah, just gonna miss you guys," Bucky states as his hand squeezes yours.
-
You couldn't believe the Peggy Carter wants to recruit you for her medic team. You've heard a lot about her through your letters from Steve and from various people you've talked to on the streets of Brooklyn.
One thing you wish is for Bucky to send you something… literally anything. You haven't heard from him in months and you're not going to lie- you're worried about him.
So, here you are, on the frontlines in Germany. You're nervous about being this close to the war, but you'd do almost anything to help your country out. Plus, Peggy mentioned that Steve's going to be here as well.
You jump at the sound of gunfire in the distance, releasing a deep breath as Peggy leads you towards the tent you'll be staying in. "Nervous, Miss L/N?" She asks you and you let out a small chuckle.
"Is it obvious?" You laugh while running a hand through your hair.
Peggy gives you a soft smile and lays a hand on your shoulder. "Don't fret. This is one of the safest camps along the frontlines," she reassures you and you nod your head in response. "So, have you known Steve for long?"
"Oh, since middle school. It's where I met both him and Bucky," you inform her with a smile and her face falls a bit. You notice the look on her face and furrow your eyebrows. "What is it?"
"You should probably know about James," she uses his first name and your heart drops. You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head for her to continue. "He was captured by the Nazis about a month ago."
All the air leaves your body, leaving you gasping for breath at the news. You place a hand on her shoulder to keep your body from collapsing. "D-Does Steve know?" You ask in a whisper and Peggy nods in reply. "Is he here now?"
"Yeah, I'll tell him where to find you," she mentions while leading you into the tent you're staying in. Once Peggy leaves your tent you break down, falling to your knees as tears pool in your eyes.
The memory of yours and Bucky's kiss flash through your mind, your heart clenching at the thought of him dead. Your lip trembles and you fully sit on the ground, leaning against your cot before hugging your knees.
He could still be alive… right? You think to yourself as a quiet knock is heard right outside your tent. "Y/N?" Steve's voice softly calls out and you pick your head up.
"Come in," you whisper loud enough for him to hear. A short gasp leaves your lips as Steve walks into your tent. "Steve?"
A chuckle leaves his lips and the blonde nods his head. "It's me, Y/N," he grins and you slowly stand up. "You must have been living under a rock. I've been like this for a few months."
"Wh-What happened? How?" You ask in astonishment while walking closer to him.
You suddenly wrap your arms around his waist, your heart heavy as you can feel the tears coming back. "Super soldier serum. I was the test subject. You knew how much I wanted to help," he explains and you nod your head. "Listen, about Bucky-"
"Is he alive?" You ask, cutting him off and Steve sighs. You rest your forehead against his chest as sobs escape your lips, the image of seeing his dead body plaguing your mind. "I-I never got to tell him about my feelings."
Steve's brows furrow together and rest his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back a bit. "What feelings?" He questions and you sigh while wiping the tears from your face.
"I'm in love with James Buchanan Barnes," you tell him and his blue eyes widen, shock written across his face.
"Since when?!" Steve asks and you let out a chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.
"Probably since high school," you inform him and you're amused that Steve never figured it out, especially since he was around you a lot. You move to sit on your cot, inviting him to sit next to you and he does. "You know the night before Bucky left?"
Steve nods his head, resting his hands on his thighs. "Yeah, you and Bucky were acting strange when I finally made it to your place…" he trails off and you snort, giving him a look. "No way. You two did something?"
A laugh leaves your lips as you lean your chin against the palm of your hand, sighing heavily. "To be fair, we only kissed," you explain to him, gazing at the super-soldier for a few seconds, "but, it was the best kiss I've ever had."
Steve rests a hand on your upper back, rubbing gently. "I'm going to find him. I'm taking our men out tomorrow to find him and everyone else they captured. I'm bringing him home," he tells you, and your eyes well up with tears, nodding your head to what he's saying.
-
"Medic! We've got wounded," someone shouts and your head snaps up before scurrying out of your cot.
You throw on your medic jacket and rush out of your tent, running straight to the med-tent. "Where are they?" You ask one of the other nurses, seeing the empty spaces in front of you.
"Guys from the 107th are bringing them in now," she informs you and you nod your head.
The flap of your tent opens up and about nine people hobble their way inside. You order the men holding them up to place the wounded on the cots as you start examining the one closest to you.
It doesn't take you long to patch the men up and thankfully there's not that much damage on them either. They all thank you and you grin to yourself, absorbing the validation. "Just doing my part," you tell them while patting the shoulder of the last man you attend to.
Steve walks into the tent and your eyes dance towards him. "There's something you need to see," he mumbles, and your heart pounds against your chest.
"I can't if he's…" you trail off and Steve shakes his head. A smile comes to the blonde's lips and you let out a small sob, stumbling towards him. "He's- he's alive?!"
"C'mon," he motions for you to follow and you glance towards the nurse, a pleading look in your eyes.
The brunette laughs and nods her head. "Go see whoever it is you need to see," she grins and you thank you quietly before running after Steve.
You fiddle with your fingers as your friend leads you towards Bucky’s tent. "Does he know I'm here?" You ask him and Steve shakes his head.
A deep breath leaves your lips as he stops you from going in. You look up at the six-foot man and he tells you to wait a minute. You nod your head and watch as Steve walks into the tent, hearing him tell Bucky that he's got a surprise for him.
"Come on in, Y/N," Steve calls out and Bucky's head snaps up at the sound of your name.
No way. There just happens to be another woman here with that name. It's not- Bucky's thoughts get cut off as he watches you walk into the tent, a nervous look on your face.
"Bucky," you breathe out and the twenty-six-year-old stands up from his cot before rushing towards you.
Tears come to your eyes as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. "Holy shit, you're-"
"I'm here," you whisper and wrap your arms around his waist, gripping his shirt tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay."
Bucky glances towards Steve and the blonde nods his head before leaving the two of you alone. You pull away from your best friend, sniffling as you bring your hand up to his face.
His blue eyes look you over as he feels your thumb gently strokes his cheek. "What are you doing here?" Bucky whispers and you giggle softly.
"Peggy recruited me to help out," you tell him and Bucky leans into your touch before kissing the palm of your hand.
Your heart flutters in your chest, smiling softly at the man before resting your head on his chest. Bucky wraps his arms around you once more as the two of you stand in silence.
-
"Oh come on. Come with me," you beg Peggy, not wanting to go into a bar filled with men by yourself. "It'll make me feel much safer, at least until I reach Steve and Bucky."
You run your hands over the black material, your dress looking very similar to Peggy's except hers is red. "Fine," she sighs and stands up from her seat, her eyes meeting yours. "I have to talk to Steve anyway."
"Oh?" You question with a slight tease in your voice, nudging her shoulder with yours. "We happen to fancy a certain blonde hair, blue-eyed man?"
Peggy scoffs and shakes her head, clutching her purse. "Absolutely not. Howard has new equipment for him to try," she informs you and you chuckle in response. "Are you finally going to tell James about your feelings?"
Your chuckle dies off at her words and you clear your throat, gliding your fingertips along the smooth dress. "I- Don't know what you're talking about," you tell her, and she gives you a knowing smirk as the two of you get closer to the bar.
"Oh, come on, Y/N. Steve blurted out that you're in love with the man, and it's not that hard to figure out," Peggy teases you now and you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
"I don't know. Maybe I'll have enough liquid courage to tell him. We'll see how it plays out," you mention and she nods her head, glad that you'll attempt to reveal your feelings.
The singing in the bar dies down as the Howling Commandos spot the two of you. Your cheeks flush at all the attention and tuck some hair behind your ear as you follow Peggy. "Miss L/N, you look fantastic," one of the men comments and you thank him quietly.
You notice both Bucky and Steve lean back in their chairs as the bar suddenly becomes silent, the two men standing up when you and Peggy approach them. "Captain," Peggy greets Steve and you smile, knowing that the two have some sort of unspoken thing happening.
"Agent Carter," Steve nods, and your eyes move to Bucky, who's currently checking her out and your heart clenches in your chest.
Well… you move around them and head towards the bar, ordering yourself a drink. "I see your top squad is prepping for duty," Peggy tells Steve.
Bucky grins and shoves his hands into his pockets. "You don't like music?" He asks. The bartender places your drink down in front of you and you thank him politely before paying.
"I do, actually," she says, not looking away from Steve for even a second. "I might even, when all of this is over, go dancing."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Bucky flirts and you roll your eyes before taking a large gulp of your drink, already wanting to leave.
So much for him feeling the same way, huh? You think to yourself as you hear Peggy tell him that she's waiting for the right partner. She bids them goodbye before giving you a wave. You nod your head as the two men watch her walk away before Bucky turns to face Steve.
"I'm invisible. I'm turning into you, it's like a horrible dream," he laughs and moves to sit back down in his spot.
Steve claps him on the shoulder as his eyes meet yours. "Maybe she has a friend," he mentions and tilts his head in your direction.
Bucky's eyes find yours as you sit on the barstool, fiddling with the glass in your hands. The brunette finishes the drink he has before glancing towards Steve. "How long has she been sitting there?" He asks and Steve frowns a bit.
"She came in with Peggy," he informs him and Bucky begins to feel a bit guilty for not noticing you.
"Shit," he whispers and watches you order another drink. "I'll see you later."
Steve pats Bucky on the back once more with a smile on his lips. "Go get 'er, tiger," he laughs causing Bucky to roll his eyes.
You smile at the bartender and go to pay him for the drink when someone lays a five-dollar bill on the table. "This one's on me," Bucky says, causing you to look up at the man. "Hey."
"Hi," you mumble as he sits down beside you.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Bucky apologizes immediately and you furrow your brows, wondering what he's apologizing for. "I should've noticed you with Agent Carter, but I didn't. I'm sorry."
A slight scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head, taking a sip of the Brandy. "It's fine, Bucky. You can do whatever you want," you tell him and Bucky frowns before taking your hand in his.
"The night before I left," he starts and your eyes glance towards his blue ones, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand, "when I asked to kiss you. Do you know why I did it?"
You swallow thickly as you think about it, wanting to assume it's because he liked you. "Because that chick left you at that car show? I assumed it was because you're lonely," you mumble, your heart breaking at the expression on Bucky's face.
"I kissed you because I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again. I kissed you because I wanted to know what it'd feel like in case I died over here. It was the best kiss of my life," he mumbles and your heart begins to pound against your chest.
"But, I'm here," you whisper to him and Bucky smiles softly, squeezing your hand.
He nods his head and scoots his chair closer to yours, his leg brushing against yours. "You are. Although, I don't like that you're this close to the enemy I'm really glad you're here," Bucky mumbles as the distance between your faces begins to diminish.
Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky's lips meet yours. You place your hand on his neck as his rests on your hips. Wolf whistles echo off the walls, causing the two of you to pull apart. You look over Bucky's shoulder to see Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos standing there with grins on their faces.
"We seem to have an audience," you giggle and Bucky looks over his shoulder before sighing.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks you and you nod your head.
Bucky laces his fingers with yours before leading you out of the bar, ignoring the cheers coming from his fellow soldiers. You press your face against his arm as the two of you walk together, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand.
"I love you, James," you blurt out and Bucky looks down at you, squeezing your hand.
"I love you too, Y/N."
-
Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg @bumblebet-20 @queen-of-mischief
#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky imagine#bucky imagines#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel x y/n#marvel oneshot#marvel one shot#marvel avengers
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For the gif and drabble, I was thinking maybe a Royal au? Where Bucky and the reader have an arranged marriage and they get to know each other after they've been married? Can Natasha also be the reader's best friend? Prince!Bucky is one of my favourites. Just something really fluffy
Lexi, thank you for participating in WorldOfAUs loves you 3000!
I had a lot of fun writing out your drabble and I hope you enjoy this royal! AU as much as i enjoyed writing it for you!
ENJOYED THIS WORK? ALL OTHER WORK CAN BE FOUND IN MY BIO ON MY MASTERLIST!
Bare feet touched cold wooden floors, a shiver rolling through your sheer nightgown covered body as you slowly moved the warm duvet from over your legs. Your feet stilled; breath caught in your throat as the man next to you stirred fingers barely brushing your backside as he turned to you, you glanced over your shoulder eyes wide as you took in his still sleeping form.
He was beautiful.
He was beautiful from the depth of his oceanic eyes, to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was beautiful from his generous opinions, to the touch of his hand upon your own as you walked the castles corridors in the dead of night. You loved the way his voice quickened with excitement when a new idea presented itself before the council, or when he was enjoying one of yours so much so that he lost himself for a moment and forgot the mask he was meant to wear in front of others.
What he is, what he was, is what is beautiful about him, and that beauty came from deep within.
You can’t help but to lean over, tender fingers tucking away the chestnut brown hair that threatens to conceal his face before your moving back, your legs pushing you up and off the warmth of the bed.
You go quietly, hands finding his finest silk robe to throw over you form, chills rolling through your body as you go on quiet feet to the awaiting French doors.
Your head is angled toward his still sleeping form as your fingers wrap around the ice-cold knobs, twisting ever so slowly as you watch with baited breath. Your eyes slip shut, teeth finding your lip as the knob clicks, hands pulling the doors open just as slow.
Your escape out onto the balcony comes much quicker, not wanting to alert your sleeping husband of your absence in the warmth of your shared bed.
Cool wind knocks into you as you move forward, hands bracing against the balcony, eyes already set out on the distance waiting. You don’t have to wait long as the sunrise brings you copper hues, golden light dribbling over the land like honey poured over your morning oatmeal. The leaves shimmered like a mirror flecked mosaic and the morning dew sparkled on the bejeweled grass. In a moment, your cast in crimson, rosy glow, your fingers moving through the air that grows brighter with each passing moment until it becomes a new bold day. Even with the beginnings of winter upon you, you feel the promise of a gentle spring.
“You know I'm beginning to think there’s not a day that passes us that I won’t find you here soaking in those first rays of light,” comes his sleep laced voice.
Your eyes meet the sparkling hues of blue, a small smile kissing your lips as you look back out to the land "it's beautiful, isn’t it?”
You can picture him pressed up against the doors, strong arms crossed over an even broader chest, “it is beautiful,” he murmurs, your eyes lock with his, “but the sunrise doesn’t quite compare to you.”
Warmth crawls up your neck settling into the apples of your cheeks, eyes averting his to set your sights back to the growing sunrise. A deep chuckle rises from his chest, and you sense him drawing close, his arms circling your form seconds later confirming your thoughts, “it's been a year since we wed, how do I still manage to make my queen get so flustered?”
The fluster settles, simmers as you let yourself lean into him, your hands covering his own as your head finds its place against his shoulder.
“You know I'm beginning to think there's not a day that passes us that you won’t find a reason to have me boost you’re already inflated ego my love,” you tease.
His chest rumbles beneath your back, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your head, “Is it a crime for a man as lucky as I to want to hear what his beloved really thinks of him?”
A smile pulls at your lips as you look up to the man behind you, his eyes already on yours waiting, “no, it isn’t,” you answer, “but to be fair when father announced that he would be giving my hand away to the son of the infamous late George Barnes, I - well I had my concerns, but you already knew that.”
Bucky grins against the side of you head, “to be fair,” he teases, “I’m sure everyone knew of the concerns you held petal, you weren’t exactly the welcoming committee when your father first brought us together.”
Embarrassment filled with regret floods you, soft laughter bubbling up your chest as you recall the first words you had ever spoken in front of your husband.
“I would rather marry the stable boy father!”
Your father turns to you red-faced and glaring, “Daughter that is no way to speak in front of our guests much less to your future king apologize at once!”
Your eyes met the stormy ocean grays, “I apologize for my preference of wedding our stable boy than the likes of a man like you, but you’re no king.”
Your father clambers to his feet voice booming as he looks down on you, “now that is quite enough,” he growls, “that is no way to speak to your future husband, you will apologize at once and the right way if you wish to continue to see outside of that damned room of yours!”
Your eyes turn to slits, hands pushing you from the pleated chair that was placed next your fathers throne, “it’s not like you let me outside of my corridors to begin with father,” you hiss, “and I’m sorry to disappoint but go ahead and lock me away hell I’ll throw the key for you, because I refuse to marry a man who carries the blood of innocents on his hands.”
“Has your view on me changed petal?”
You find yourself turning in his hold then, hands falling to his shoulders as you look up the man you’ve given your heart to.
“My only regret was letting the whispered words of others build a hate in my heart for a man who never existed,” you answer. Your hands brushes against his cheek then, fingers tucking those soft locks, “for a man who had lived in the shadow of his father.”
He turns his head lips pressing to the inside of your palm, “and to think it only took a year,” he murmurs against your skin, grin pressed there as his eyes meet yours.
A grin of your own mirrors his, “it was less than a year.”
His grin grows hand finding your waist as he pulls you closer, “what was that darling I don’t think I heard you right,” he teases.
“Insufferable,” you huff through a laugh, fingers curling around the base of his neck, “but if you must know,” you exasperate, “it took less than the year to let myself fall.”
Bucky whistles lowly, “it took you less than a year to fall for the likes of a man like me, who would of thought, surely not your stable boy.”
That draws laughter from both of you, your fingers curling the hair that lays on the nape of his neck, “there was never a stable boy, but there was Tasha, though I don’t think she could quite compare.”
His head finds yours, “you’ve gone sweet on me petal.”
Your fingers curl further bringing your husband closer your lips barely touching his, “to be fair we’ve both gone sweet haven’t we love?”
“You’re not wrong there darling say, why don’t let you let me show you just how sweet I am for you?”
Your lips mold to his, the world around you melting away except for the two of you standing in the the blush of scarlet sky, and the warmth of tangerine.
Though your marriage was was not written in the eyes of one another the first day the two of you met. The two of you still existed as if the universe had brought together your two souls that were seemingly already betrothed from the very first day.
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#royal!bucky#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#drabble requests#gif requests
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Migraine
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean x reader, platonic Sam x Reader
Summary: reader is scared to let the boys in and tell them about the chronic migraines she suffers from, after a hunt the truth comes out and you're shocked with how they respond
Warnings: smut, no a too whole lot, two paragraphs on 3000 words, nothing too triggering I think, medicine, as always, I might have missed something read at your o w n risk
A/N: It might be a little long, tbh I dont know what a long/short fic looks like but it's def one I could've split and didn't. I really enjoyed writing this one, am having a little bit of a block after writing six fics in a day. shout out to my first smut in at least five years.
You had been hunting with Sam and Dean for a couple of months, finally feeling like you had earned your place. You didn't feel comfortable letting them know your weaknesses, which is why you didn't tell them you had migraines. You were able to cover for the most part, hiding it from the family you've come to know quite well. Most of the time. Sometimes you just couldn't, the pain overbearing and you just had to stay in bed all day, "It's just cramps." You lied to the boys, who assumed that you were covering your face and curled up like a child because of your embarrassment and pain. Sooner or later they will find out, and that's just what happened on this witch hunt.
You were the first one back into the motel, just wanting to lie down, Sam and Dean following suit. Dean slammed the door, causing you to jump with a jolt of pain to your head, reminding you of the already particularly bad headache you had. Thank god you'd be home soon. You went into the bathroom, wanting to shower after a long day of hunting the witch down, turning the lights off as you shut the door, you sighed, the pain growing. You turned the shower on, making it just a little warm, undressing and sitting down, putting your knees close to yourself, held together by your crossed arms with your head on your knees just enjoying the relief the water brings you.
You must've lost track of time because the next thing you hear is Dean, pounding on the bathroom door, basically screaming, "Y/n, damn, we want hot water!" You groaned, "Fuck off Dean! I'll be out in a minute," you shouted, much harsher than you wanted. You heard Dean grumble but couldn't understand it. Ignoring him, you finished washing your body, head already hurting bad enough it was too much to have to stand and wash, worried you might puke if you moved around more than you needed.
You came out of the shower, laying on the bed, closing your eyes, waiting to leave when you heard Sam speak up. "Did you get hurt and not tell us?" You rolled your eyes, then rose up and looked at Sam. "What?" You were confused, why would you not tell them if you got hurt? You looked over your body for any marks as Dean spoke, "Why else would you take so damn long?" You glared at him, "Sorry, I guess I won't enjoy my showers anymore." You laid back down, Dean looked at you with a pang of guilt you didn't see. He was just, in his own way, trying to check on you.
When both Sam and Dean had showered, you packed up your stuff, not caring if you left anything behind, you led out the door, crawling into the backseat of the impala. As you started rolling out, you realized it was going to be a long trip when the first wave of nausea hit you. Leaning into the window, enjoying the cold, you closed your eyes, knowing sleep would not come.
About two hours into the trip back to the bunker, after not saying a single word, you finally spoke up. "Dean," he looked at you through the rearview mirror, "pull the car over, Sam you gotta let me out." Dean was a little shocked, "What," he said quickly. "Pull the car over, before I hurl in your baby." At that, the car near immediately stopped, Sam quickly allowing you to get out. Almost as soon as your foot hit the ground, before you were even all the way out of the car, vomit spewed from your mouth. Sam was rubbing your back, not sure why you were sick, as you'd never gotten car sick.
Dean got out of the car, circling it to come to your side, worry written all over his face. Dean replaced Sam, Dean whispering something to him that you couldn't hear over the splashing on the road. You heard the car door shut, and felt Dean pull your hair back. Once you were done, Dean, helping you raise up, asked, "What's going on?" You looked at him, worry still plastered on his face.
"Nothing, I just got car sick," still feeling like you could throw up, you took a deep breath. The pain of your headache intensified by the fit. Dean laughed a little, "You've never gotten car sick in your life," shaking his head and adding, "I mean," down to a whisper, "are you pregnant?" You had to laugh a little, regretting as pain soared through your head, "No, Dean, why would you even ask that?"
"Well, in the same night you take an hour longer showering than you usually do and vomit on the side of the road." He smirked, reminiscing, "I mean after our encounter a couple of months ago-" You had to interrupt him, "We fucked once, I also recall telling you I was on birth control." Dean chuckled, "What can I say? I've got strong swimmers." Smug son of a bitch. "I'm not, can we please just go home? I got car sick, it happens."
Dean got very serious, "Not until you tell me what's going on, I'm worried now." Silently panicking, afraid that if you told them you had chronic migraines they'd think you couldn't go on hunts and you'd be alone again, but really not wanting him to worry, you finally spoke up, "It's just a migraine." Dean's face contorted in confusion, "A migraine? Since when do you get migraines?" You looked away from him, toward the trees lining the side of the road, "They're chronic, I've had them for years." Deans face softened, he reached for his passenger door and opened it for you, allowing you to crawl in.
"You all right?" Sam spoke from the backseat, thankful you didn't have to crawl back there again. You just nodded, bringing your knees to your chest and lying back against the window with your eyes closed. Dean started the car and after a few minutes he couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Why didn't you just tell us?" Sam didn't say anything, also wanting to know why this was such a big deal for you to keep a secret.
You took a sharp breath in, not moving a muscle, not even looking at them, "I was afraid you'd tell me I couldn't hunt with you guys anymore." Dean looks at sam through the rearview, the guilt on Sams face matching his own, "We would never-" Dean gripped the wheel a little tighter, "We would have worked around them, so you can be home when they're this bad. It wouldn't be puking on the side of the road horrible." Dean shook his head, reaching across to you to rub your arm, you looked at him, and he jerked his head in a come here motion. You did as you were told, starting to scoot over, he redirected your movements so your head was in his lap. His fingers running through your hair, his hand finding the back of your neck apply just a tiny bit of pressure right at the base of your skull, rubbing up and down softly, alleviating some of the pain, somehow letting you sleep the remaining trip.
When you woke up Sam was already out of the car, Dean opening your door you sleepily sat at the edge of the seat, head throbbing. Putting your hand on your forehead, elbow on the back of his bench seat, eyes still closed, you felt Dean pull your hands to his neck. "No," you jerked back, eyes filled with tears at how bad the morning light was making you feel, "I can walk." Dean huffed, "Shut up and let me carry you." You resigned and put your arms around his neck, laying your head in the crook of his neck, loving how he smelled.
You noticed as he carried you in, every single light that could be out, was. Sam must've done that for you. Opening the door to his room, you started to protest, "Shhh," he gently laid you on the bed and pulled the covers up for you, "just let me." Dean left the room, you're not sure where, but there was a pang of sadness in your chest, wanting to be near him. He came back and placed a cool rag on the back of your neck and one on your forehead, he touched your lips, slowly dragging his thumb over your lips, speaking softly, "Open up, let this pill dissolve on your tongue okay? It might be a little nasty, but it'll help." You took the pill, as it started to dissolve you scrunched up your face at the nasty taste, causing Dean to chuckle.
Dean headed to he door, it was now or never, "Will-" you started and your voice broke a little, you're not sure out of embarrassment or pain, "will you stay?" Dean smiled at you, coming to the side of the bed, crawling under the covers with you, "As long as you want me." You rolled over to him, laying your head on his chest as he put his arm around you. He started playing with your hair, running his fingers up and down your arm.
You wanted to be able to properly enjoy this, but your head hurt so bad. After about fifteen minutes you couldn't help but cry, silently, wanting the headache to go away. Dean noticed, feeling his damp shirt, he didn't say anything, just kissed your head. "They're not normally this bad," you sniffled, "I can usually push through them." Dean started rubbing your back, knowing how nervous you were to tell them, not really understanding why you'd believe they would say you couldn't hunt with them. "Y/n," he contemplated on what to say.
"You don't have to hide anything from us, you don't have to push through them, if you're in pain it's okay, we all have our faults, you don't ever have to be afraid that we'd tell you to leave. You're our family now, we need you. I need you." Your heart skipped a beat, did he really need you? In what way does he need you? "What do you mean?" Dean had to admit it, had to come clean, now or never.
"I don't mean just hunts," you looked up at him, shocked, tear stained eyes which broke his heart. He gently cupped your face, leaning forward and bringing his lips to yours, you instantly responded, pressing into the kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, he pulled back, "God you taste better than ever." You laughed, laying your head back down, "Okay, I understand." He couldn't do chick flic, it was hard enough for him to say he needed you, but he needed you to know.
Sam came in, replacing your rags, "You want some more medicine?" You nodded, pushing your hand on Dean's chest so he knew he couldn't get up. "Sammy, she'd love that but doesn't want me to get up." Sam laughed, your cheeks flushing, "No problem, Y/n." Dean placed his hand on yours, "I feel like a bath might help, I can run you one." You shrugged, "lotta work." Dean copied your shrug, "Not really, just gotta start the water and put the bubbles in." You instantly responded, talking over him, "Not you, me," you pause and lifted your head to looked at him, eyebrow cocked, "bubbles? I don't have bubbles?" Dean laughed heartily, "Not you, me. My bubbles and my work, I'll do it all, nothing I ain't seen before." He winked at you, smug bastard. You laid your head back down on his chest, shrugging again.
Sam came back, Dean lifting his hand up to take the medicine from Sam as you lifted yourself up and grabbed the cup from him, "It's coffee, it might help." You couldn't turn to face him, didn't want to, "Thank you so much." Sam smiled, but you couldn't see, "Of course, anything." You heard the door close softly as you took your place back on Dean, resting the cup on his chest.
After a few minutes after you had taken the medicine, Dean slid from underneath you, taking the coffee cup, causing you to groan in displeasure. Dean chuckled, and headed toward the bathroom. Once in there he lit a singular candle, started the water, and put the bubbles in. Coming back to you he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you move your limbs to where they needed to be.
He sat you down on the bathroom sink, while he took his shirt off you removed your own. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra and pulling it off you. Dean wanted to tell you how gorgeous you were, wanted to touch you, but he knew you were more than not up for it. He knows when to be respectful and when to be downright filthy. You slid off the counter, you pushed your pants down, just enough so they could effortlessly fall off of you.
Dean stepped into the tub first, holding his hand out to you. You happily took it, just wanting to lie back down. Dean put your back to him, wrapping an arm around you he slunk to the ground, water splashing lightly. He pulled you back to him, allowing you to lay your head back on him. His fingers found their way to your scalp, applying a small amount of pressure, taking some of your pain. You had no idea that the Dean Winchester could be this, soft.
You just laid there with Dean, letting the water sooth you, letting Dean make this better. You couldn't think, just lay. You don't know how long you laid there, laid in complete silence with Dean taking care of you. "Do you want me to touch you?" Dean spoke, barely loud enough that you could hear him, you hummed, wordlessly asking what he meant. "I did some research while we were in the bed, lots of women have said that masturbating can seriously help." Still speaking softly, making sure that you weren't going to get overstimulated. You thought for a minute, all the times that you had touched yourself in hopes for the pain to lessen-all the times it worked. "Mhmm." Dean just continued rubbing your scalp, "Say it." A twinge of need pooled inside you, "Touch me Dean, I want it."
Dean needed no further encouragement, he needed to know this is what you wanted, needed you to admit it. He wasted no time, slowly working his hands to your nipples, fingers teasing, tickling their way to touch you. He twirled your nipples between his thumb and index finer, gently pulling them up, eliciting a whimper from you. "Don't worry good girl, I'm gonna make you feel better." Deans hands trailed to your waist, pulling you up a couple of inches, giving him better access.
Dean's right hand tiptoed to your clit, gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, rubbing circles until your hips bucked forward, wanting more. Dean's left hand moving to your lower stomach, resting lazily. You opened your eyes and stared into his eyes, a soft moan falling from your lips, "More." Dean smirked, quickly raising his left hand to push your head back, nonverbally communicating for you to rest, just enjoy this, then returning his hand to it's home.
Dean's thick fingers slid inside you with a thrilling stretch, you gasped, forgetting how good he filled you up. "Good girl, I know you can take it," Dean started to pump his fingers slowly, curling them upwards to hit just the right spot. "Mmmm," you hummed, almost singing, "please." Dean sped up, his fingers hitting your g-spot, palm rubbing your clit, you clenched tightly around him, slowing him down but making him damn near growl. You bucked your hips forward, panting, squeezing his wrist with one hand and grabbing the side of the tub with the other. "Gonna make you cum," Dean nipped your earlobe, a whimper. "Gonna show you that you need me," moved to your neck, a moan. "Gonna remind you what it feels like to gush around me," another nibble, another kiss. A desperate desire pooled in your belly, pussy clenching, clit throbbing. "You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fingers like a good girl?" Dean pressed his left hand down, the pressure sending you over the edge, you spasmed around his fingers, legs shaking, juices leaking out of you and into the tub. He let you ride it out, until your legs had calmed and you had stopped pulsating around his fingers. He moved his hands back to your scalp, continuing the previous scalp massage.
You tried to catch your breath, his thick cock resting between your legs, you could almost see it throb. You reached in-between your legs, starting to pump his cock but he moved your hand. "No," he kissed your lips, then your forehead, "once you're feeling better we can discuss it." You moved your hand to rest on his thigh, "can we just lay here a minute?" He hummed in approval, letting you close your eyes and enjoy the moment of bliss.
After awhile, you had almost fallen asleep, Dean started to get up, slowly dragging himself out of the tub careful not to disturb you too much. Once Dean had found the towel in the under lit room he reached his hand to you, helping you stand up. You stepped out of the tub, reaching for the towel but he pulls it just out of your reach. Dean sighs, "You may feel a little better but I still want to take care of you," starting to pat you dry, making sure to get the dripping tips of your beautiful hair, "I want to, please let me." You let him finish drying you off, let him slip his own shirt and boxers on you, wondering when he'd have gotten them. You even let him carry you back to his bed. Once he laid down, you were immediately beside him, filling the perfect spot next to him. "Sleep." He commanded, it was not a suggestion, and you did.
When you woke up, your back was facing Dean, his chest pressed to you, arm wrapped tightly around you like you'd run. You turned a little to look at his sleeping form, surprised when his eyes fluttered open, "Mornin', any better?" You turned towards him, placing your leg between his, your own arm underneath his and wrapped around him, "Manageable." You laid there, for how long you weren't sure. Eventually Dean spoke up, "We should go get some breakfast." You nodded, reluctantly rolling to the side of his bed, swinging your legs over.
You and Dean walked to the kitchen, Sam already cooking, hearing you cross the threshold into the kitchen he spun around. Upon realizing you guys had gotten up he immediately grabbed the coffee pot and filled up the cup sitting next to a few pills on the counter and creamer. You gently chuckled, "What a saint," you slapped Deans arm. "I told you," Dean started as you sat down and he moved to get his own cup of coffee, "we could've helped you manage."
You started fiddling your thumbs, not able to look at the boys, "I know-sigh-I was afraid, I'm sorry, I know it's dumb but-" looking to Dean, "I was afraid I'd be too much, lose the family I've come to love. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Sam turned to you, pausing from the breakfast. "It's not dumb, Y/n. If you're hurting, if you're struggling, if you're afraid, we face it together, all three of us. Because you're right, we're family, and you belong here. Your problems are ours." Dean beside you now, hand placed on your back, thumb drawing small figure eight's, "We can help you, face anything this hellhole throws at us, stick together and say fuck it together," a kiss placed on your lips, pressing into you with loving force, "you just have to let me."
#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fluff#supernatural smut#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x you#dean Winchester x you#dean smut#dean fluff#dean Winchester smut#dean Winchester fluff#dean winchester fluff#sam x y/n#sam x reader#sam x you#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader
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i am not reblogging this post from OP (posted 2 days ago, with 4,400 notes and counting) because i know that often people are just making their own vent posts on their blogs and maybe don’t expect them to circulate widely outside of their small tumblr circle! and i don’t mean to like, jump on someone who is just commenting on something and then going on with their life. but i feel like i keep seeing versions of this sentiment on leftist twitter too and i really think it is a gross misrepresentation of the bill that passed earlier this month - which is due in part to social media’s intense focus on the “stimulus check” part of the bill. but the bill was not called “the stimulus check” act! it was called “The American Rescue Plan” and it was specifically geared towards providing desperately-needed relief to the American middle & working classes. the $1400 direct payments to individuals was just one small portion of the bill. here are the far more important parts:
in addition to receiving a $1400 direct payment themselves, individuals with children receive an additional $1400 check for each dependent
college students who are still listed as dependents on their parents’ tax forms (typically so they can retain health insurance benefits under the ACA) can more easily claim stimulus money - which is huge for college kids who may be helping to financially support immediate or extended family members
unemployment benefits have been extended from March 31, 2021 (their original expiration date) to September 6, 2021
unemployment benefits will be supplemented with a $300 weekly payment (ie $300 on top of what people are receiving from their state government)
unemployment benefits received in 2020-21 are tax-exempt (a retroactive change that means people who are unemployed won’t receive a surprise tax bill counting their unemployment money as “income”)
a substantial tax credit for employers who offer paid sick leave and paid family leave benefits (ie creating a direct incentive for employers to authorize emergency paid leave)
15% increase in food stamp benefits and extension of eligibility
child and family tax credit benefits!!!! this is the part that people are describing as one of the most significant anti-poverty initiatives in American history. families are eligible for a tax credit of $3600 for each child under the age of 6 and $3000 for each child between 6-18. people can also claim a child and dependent care credit with a maximum benefit of $4000 for one eligible dependent and up to $8000 for two or more. it also expands the earned income tax credit and lowers the age limit to 19. dems also pushed to get at least 50% of the tax credit money to people this year instead of making them wait for their 2021 tax return. this calculator allows you to calculate how much families will receive. if you make $50,000 a year and have four children, you will receive $13,200 through the child tax credit alone, paid out in monthly payments of $1,100 from July to December 2021 + an additional $6,600 lump-sum payment when you file your 2021 tax return early next year. there are also some additional dependent-related tax credits things that I don’t fully understand but that seem to indicate people are eligible for even more money.
forgiven student loan debt is made tax-free (a necessary prerequisite for future efforts to cancel/forgive student loan debt)
huge expansion of grant benefits to small businesses, including $28.6 billion specifically for bars and restaurants; $15 billion for low-interest, long-term replayment emergency disaster loans; and $7 billion more for the paycheck protection program (which can only be used on payroll expenses and makes it possible for small businesses to keep workers on payroll even if they are operating at lower capacity). you can describe this as “for the economy only” if you want, but I sure feel like it will alleviate a whole lot of human suffering by allowing people to keep their jobs & paychecks even if their workplaces remain partially shut down. my dad is a small business owner and has been able to keep his entire staff on payroll through the entire pandemic. the bill also includes billions for airlines and concert venues, which will again! means people won’t lose their jobs!! plus it allocates $175 million to fund a Community Navigator Program that reaches out to eligible businesses and helps guide them through the application process—ie making it possible for small businesses to actually take receive these benefits.
$350 billion to state, local, and tribal governments
$130 billion for K-12 schools to improve ventilation, reduce class sizes, purchase PPE for employees and students, and hire support staff; of this money, 20% must be dedicated to programs designed to counteract “learning loss” from students who missed school during the pandemic
$40 billion for colleges and universities, at least $20 billion of which must go to emergency grants to students (our university has been giving regular emergency grants throughout the pandemic to students to help cover rent, unexpected medical expenses, costs related to family emergencies or lost family income, tuition bills that they suddenly can’t pay, fees associated with wifi or purchasing tech equipment so they can learn virtually)
a HUGE amount of money four housing benefits!!!! i keep seeing people yelling about how $1400 won’t cover their rent but THAT’S WHAT THE RENTAL ASSISTANCE PROGRAMS ARE FOR. $21.6 billion in rent and utility assistance, paid directly to states and local governments so they can disburse it to eligible households!!! plus $5 billion to Section 8 housing (which “must go to those who are or were recently homeless, as well as individuals who are escaping from domestic violence, sexual assualt, or human trafficking”).
$5 billion to support state and local programs for homeless and at-risk individuals (can be used for rental assistance, homelessness prevention services, and counseling; can also be used to purchase properties that will be turned into permanent shelters or affordable housing for people who are homeless). plus an additional $120 for housing counseling.
$4.5 billion earmarked for a special assistance program that helps low-income households cover costs of heating and cooling and $500 million to cover water costs
$750 million in housing assistance for tribes and native Hawaiians (who are also eligible for other benefits through the rental assistance and direct tribal government grants described above)
and then BILLIONS of dollars to support FEMA, the Veterans Affairs’ healthcare system, the CDC, and state, local, and territorial public health departments for all things related to: COVID testing, contact tracing, vaccine production and distribution, vaccine outreach, PPE, and public health education. this includes (among many, MANY other things), $5.4 billion to the Indian Health Services (division of the Department of Health and Human Services that specifically provides health services to Native people and tribal territories), $200 million for nursing loan repayment programs, $80 million for mental health training, $3.5 billion in block grants specifically geared towards community mental health programs and substance abuse/prevention/treatment programs
$86 billion for a rescue package for pension funds (esp union-sponsored pension funds) that are on the verge of collapse - collectively covering 10.7 million workers.
billions of dollars for public transit programs (and sure, public transit is important to the economy, but access to regular, reliable, affordable, and safe public transit is HUGELY important to human health and well-being! it is how many people esp in urban areas access grocery stores, health care, their jobs, childcare facilities, etc.
$10.4 billion for agriculture, of which $5 billion is specifically earmarked for socially disadvantaged farmworkers. to quote wikipedia: “Experts identified the relief bill as the single most important piece of legislation for African-American framers since the Civil Rights Act of 1964.”
tons of money to fund 100% of premiums for COBRA (health insurance for people who have unexpectedly lost or had to leave their jobs) through October 2021. COBRA is hella expensive and experts estimate that 2.2 million people will need to enroll for COBRA benefits in 2021. there are also various provisions that expand Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program (a program targeted at uninsured children in families who don’t qualify for Medicaid but may not be able to afford adequate healthcare coverage. it also fixes some things with the ACA that could’ve led to people getting surprise bills due to fluctuating income or unexpected changes in employment status.
i am SO OVER the so-called ‘progressive’ rhetoric that no good can ever come from the government, or that all politicians (dems or republicans) are basically the same level of evil and incompetent, or that ~mutual aid~ (ie small payments made between individuals in a community) is the only thing we can count on or should count on in times of crisis. no!!!! fuck no!!!! like mutual aid is great but America is an INSANELY WEALTHY country and it is such bullshit to act like we can’t or shouldn’t expect our government to take care of the people who live here. and i am also just GRAHARRGHGHH at people who are completely disengaged from politics offering their jaded and hyper-cynical hot takes on things they don’t! actually! know! anything! about!!!!!!! and in the process making other people increasingly jaded and cynical about the possibility of electing a government that actually prioritizes the needs & well-being of its citizenry!!!
ugh i’m just TIRED of leftist political cynicism y’all especially when it comes from people who have absolutely no understanding of how much WORK it takes to make huge things like the American Rescue Act happen (work that includes not just the immediate negotiation of the bill but also the years of organizing & voter recruitment work it took to get a narrow democratic majority in the senate so that we could pass things like this!!!!). I’M DONE WITH BEING CYNICAL!!!! i feel, in a totally earnest and unjaded way, that it’s absolutely incredible that dems were able to write, negotiate, and pass this bill, and i feel so so so relieved to be currently living under an administration that is flawed in many ways but is at least actually and earnestly TRYING to reckon with unprecedented “suffering in an actual human scale” (to quote OP) and is even using this crisis as an opportunity to advance major anti-poverty initiatives that will have a LASTING IMPACT on actual human lives. as opposed to our previous administration, which was made up of thousands of people who woke up every single day and asked themselves “what can I do today to further dehumanize & inflict needless suffering upon millions of people?”
PHEW!!!! SORRY!!!! JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS I GUESS!!!!!!!!
#i went into this thinking i was going to be very measured and calm#but actually i'm pretty pissed off#people fire off their hot takes and thousands of people read them and it's so! fucking! infuriating!!!#no government is ever gonna be perfect! certainly ours still has a shit-ton of problems!!!!!#but i hate the 'only option is to fully disengage & say fuck it' attitude#esp when then thousands of people read it and accept it as truth#long post
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Nothing Can Stop the US Air Force!
Title: Nothing Can Stop the US Air Force!
Chapter: One
Author: Kat
Reader Gender: N/A for now
Word Count: ~3000
Warnings: Military things, a death or two, some blood and torture, nothing too terrible though
A/N: I tried to make this as real as possibly possible. I’m not going to say it’s perfect because there were a couple things I needed to change, but it’s damn close.
Character: Dean Winchester
Tags: @iwantthedean @torn-and-frayed
---
“Give me a hug, Honey!” Mary said, wrapping her oldest in her arms. “I’m going to miss you so much!”
“Mom, c’mon,” Dean sighed. He rolled his eyes animatedly, then squeezed her back. “I love you, Mom.”
“My turn,” John said, pretending to break them apart. He pulled Dean into a bear hug. Dean was surprised that even though he was six foot two, his dad still seemed to tower over him.
“Bye, Dad,” Dean said.
Dean turned to the last family member, Sam. He was standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, looking down. Dean walked over to him and playfully smacked him on his shoulder.
“Hey, gonna say ‘see ya’ to your big bro?” Dean asked, laughing.
Sam just nodded, not looking up.
“What’s up, Sam?” Dean asked seriously.
“Do me a favor,” Sam said, looking up. His voice was filled with sadness and there were tears in his eyes. “Come back, won’t you?”
“Hey, Sam, of course I’ll be back. I’m not even going to be doing anything dangerous, just basic training. I’ll be home for Christmas,” Dean said, pulling his brother in for a hug. “You just keep up your nerdy schoolwork so you can be a hotshot lawyer.”
Dean said goodbye one more time and ran off toward the bus that would take him to basic training.
---
“Hey, man, why’d you join?” One of the other trainees, Micah, asked Dean. A group of men were sitting in the dorms shining shoes together, Dean being one of them. It was a free hour for them before lights out; a few others were writing letters, or laying on their beds and relaxing. The small group had been sharing stories and getting to know one another.
“My dad was in the Marines,” Dean said, dusting off his boots. “I decided a few years ago that I wanted to do the same thing.”
“Alright, so what the actual hell are you doing in the Air Force?” Brodhi asked, incredulously, from Dean’s right. Dean chuckled, covering his boots in polish. “If Daddy was a Marine, wouldn’t you want to be in the Marines?”
“Well, when I came to him with the brochures and said ‘Dad, I want to be like you. I think I’m gonna join the Marines’ he looked up from his newspaper and said,” Dean began to imitate his father’s deep voice, “‘Son, the Marines are just lowly grunts. The camaraderie might be great, but it’s groundwork before anything else. No son of mine is going to be a damn Marine. You wanna join the Forces, you’re going to use your smarts. You go into the Air Force.’”
The rest of the group laughed lightly. Dean had been grateful toward his father since then. John had seen Dean’s potential far before Dean had ever thought of himself as ‘smart.’ As the next few weeks went on, the instructors began to take notice of Dean and his dedication.
“Sir, Airman Winchester reports as ordered, Sir!” Dean said, once in the Commander’s office.
“Thank you, Airman. You’ve breezed through basic training with some ease,” he said. The Commander was sitting behind his desk with the superintendent, two Chief Master Sergeants and Dean’s training instructor. Dean shifted ever so slightly.
“Sir, thank you, Sir.”
The Commander flipped through Dean’s file for a few more moments before asking another question.
“Your father was in the military, too, wasn’t he?” The Commander asked.
It was two days before graduation. Dean stood at attention in the center of the office, facing the other men. He had no idea why he had been called here, and he was nervous, but he didn’t let it show. Dean couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” Dean barked. “Echo Company. Second Battalion, First Marines, Sir!”
“That’s very interesting. Yet, here you are at Lackland **Air Force** base. You lost, Airman Winchester?”
“Sir, no, Sir,” Dean responded.
“After the basic training graduation, most receive their next orders in writing. I have yours here in writing, but,” he paused for a moment, setting Dean’s file on the desk, “I wanted to meet with you. I wanted to see for myself what your instructor and the chief master sergeants have told me they’ve seen.”
Dean waited a moment, completely unsure of what the Commander was talking about.
“Drill Sergeant Masterson came to Chief Master Sergeant Roderick, who in turn came to me and said that you’ve shown particular skills in the obstacle course as well as arms training, survival skills and teamwork. What’s your fastest gun strip, Airman?”
“Sir, without cleaning, my fastest strip and reassembly was twenty, Sir!” Dean answered.
“Impressive. Airman Winchester, at my discretion, this military base is sending you to Fairchild Air Force Base for special SERE Training. You will train for six to seven months in Washington before you will be given your first active assignment. Is that understood?” The Commander asked, standing from his seat.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” Dean saluted the Commander and it was returned.
“This came at my very discretion and discussion between myself and the Chief Master Sergeants. Do not let us down, Airman Winchester. We see you doing great things for this country. Dismissed!”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” Dean saluted once more and exited the room in a march.
Once out of sight of his higher-ups, Dean broke into a run and dashed through the halls of the base. He needed to run off the anxiety and nervousness. He ran through the doors and stopped for a moment. He sprinted down the stairs and started to run the length of the base toward the dorm.
“Airman!” A harsh voice cut through the air and Dean stopped, knowing he was in trouble.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing out here, Airman!?” He yelled. “At attention!”
Dean straightened immediately, snapped his boots together and threw his shoulders back, staring straight ahead into Sergeant Masterson’s eyes as the Sergeant came to stand in front of him. Dean saluted quickly before returning to form.
“Answer the question, Airman Winchester!”
“I was just called into the Commander’s office and given my next assignment, Sir!” Dean yelled. “I needed to run off some excess tension, Sir!”
“I can escort you to the obstacle course if you’d like, Airman! You can run it until dark!” The Sergeant yelled. Dean remained silent. “Report back to your dorm, Airman. Get out of my sight. And, walk!”
“Yes, Sir!”
---
Dean spent the next six months in Washington, training. He wrote home twice, once to his parents and once to Sam. Dean realized he probably wouldn’t be home by Christmas as he’d told Sam, and he felt guilty, though his commanding officers were impressed by his skillset. They had ushered him into Special Operations training with a focus on arms. At the end of the last month of training, Dean’s flight was sent into a National Forest on a survival and evasive mission.
The flight boarded the plane, chattering excitedly. Dean slid into his seat and buckled his harness, giving a playful shove to Mark, one of Dean’s best friends from training. The plane shuddered to life and suddenly Dean felt a pang of fear.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Mark asked as the plane began to taxi across the runway.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve just never been on a plane before,” Dean said, putting a hand over his stomach in a vain attempt to calm it.
The entire flight quieted and turned to stare at Dean. He glanced around. A steady fear settled in his gut as the plane began to pick up speed.
“Winchester, are you gonna throw up?” Staff Sergeant Waters asked from a few seats away. “There’s airsick bags under the seats.”
“I’m fine. Just haven’t done this before, Sir,” Dean gasped as he felt the plane lift off the ground under him. “Oh, God, I hate this.”
Dean spent most of the flight with his eyes shut and his body bent double. Thankfully, the National Forest was barely a twenty minute flight away. Their JumpMaster announced the ten minute warning far too quickly for Dean’s liking.
They began moving about and Dean helped prep Mark in his harness with shaking hands. Once he'd done that, Mark switched places and helped Dean into his harness.
“Check equipment!”
They lined up and checked each other's harnesses, lines and packs quickly. They were lined in alphabetical order, except for Sergeant Waters, who would be last to leave the plane.
Dean was right in front of Sergeant Waters and he double checked his Sergeant’s packs just to be sure.
“Winchester!” Sergeant Waters called, urging him to hurry up.
“Hey, man, you got this,” Mark said, turning for a moment. “You nailed landings every time in training.”
“I hate planes. Let's go.”
His stomach turned over violently as the ramp was opened. He swallowed the vomit in the back of his throat and moved forward as the JumpMaster gave ‘go’s to everyone.
One by one, each of them jumped from the plane. Dean's stomach flipped over as the plane shuddered and Mark ran out.
Dean stepped up to the doorway and took a deep breath. Sure, he'd jumped a thousand times in training, but Dean was nervous.
“Go!” the JumpMaster yelled.
Dean took one more breath and jumped. He tucked his chin and counted. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand. He looked up, glancing over the parachute to be sure it was functioning properly. As he soared downward, Dean felt much better. This was the best part of flying in his opinion.
---
The flight filed out from the bus to go back to their dorms and rest for a day. Everyone was still mud-covered and bedraggled, talking about showers and ‘real food.’ As Dean exited the bus, a Sergeant called out to him.
“Airman Winchester!” Dean stepped to the side and saluted the Sergeant, who immediately returned it. “Report to Commander Rothschild immediately.”
“Sir, I-” Dean was cut off.
“Nonnegotiable, Airman! Roll out!”
Dean gave a half-hearted salute and walked off in the opposite direction of the dorms. He hoped the Commander realized Dean wouldn’t be in prime shape. In fact, he was all too aware of the fact it looked like he’d bathed in mud the last week and stank to high heavens from the week in the woods. He’d had fun, if he were being honest. Yes, it had been rough and tiring, but Dean thoroughly enjoyed being outdoors in survival mode like that. He realized as soon as he got to the training that this was what he was meant to do.
Dean waited at attention outside the Commander’s office until he was called in. He marched into the office, saluted to Commander Rothschild, and stood at attention.
“Sir, Airman Winchester reporting as ordered, Sir!”
“Thank you, Airman,” Commander Rothschild said. “At ease.”
The Commander was a very large man. He had gray hair with a receding hairline, but he held an air of absolute authority. He had been running the base for nearly ten years. Even though Dean hadn’t been at the base for long, he knew the Commander rarely told anyone to be ‘at ease.’ Still, Dean lowered his hands to his sides in respect.
“I heard that you alone escaped capture and were able to rescue your entire flight without being caught by the enemy. Is that true?”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” Dean confirmed proudly.
“You know, I did Special Ops and I wasn’t even able to avoid capture nor was I able to escape. That’s a job well done, Airman.”
“Sir, thank you, Sir!”
“Airman, your mother called yesterday afternoon.” Dean’s heart immediately sank. “I’m sending you home for a couple weeks. Your father is in the hospital. He had a heart attack.”
Dean remained where he stood, straight and stiff, letting the words of Commander Rothschild sink in. After a minute, the Commander stood from his desk and moved to stand directly in front of Dean.
“Airman, do you copy me?”
He only managed a short nod.
“You will report to Sergeant Matlok immediately. On January one, you will report back here to me and I will give you your next assignment, is that understood?”
“Sir, yes, Sir,” Dean responded automatically.
“Dismissed, Airman.”
---
Dean met his mother in the waiting room at the hospital. He was still in his bedraggled uniform, still sweaty and muddy from his week in the woods. She ran straight into his arms anyway. Dean was surprised at how small she seemed, like she’d shrunk since he’d left for basic training.
“Mom,” he greeted fondly.
“Oh, Sweetheart, it’s lovely to see you. I’m so sorry. Your father should get to say goodbye, though, Dean. He won’t admit it, but I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”
“It’s okay, Mom. They would have sent me home anyway. Sorry I’m so gross. I was in the woods for a week and they pulled me as soon as I got back.”
“It’s okay, Sweetie. Sam and John will be so happy to see you.”
Dean watched for a moment as his mother turned and walked away, leading him to the hospital room. She looked tired, he thought. He stared after her, trying to grasp the reality that his father was sick and dying. As he entered the room, Sam and John looked toward the door, surprise etching across their faces.
“Dean!” Sam jumped from the seat next to the hospital bed and ran over, throwing himself into Dean’s arms.
Sam seemed taller, but still so scrawny. Dean realized how much muscle he had gained since he left, but it felt so odd being in the room. He felt like a stranger.
“Hey, Sammy,” he said gruffly, wrapping his little brother up in his arms.
“Dammit, Mary, I told you not to call the base!” John complained, though his voice was soft and raspy.
Dean let go of Sam and walked over to John’s side. His father looked smaller, too, shrunken in almost. He looked weak and sick. There was an IV going into his arm and wires going down the front of the hospital gown. John’s eyes were rimmed with pink and purple, like he hadn’t been sleeping very well and his face was pale.
“No, Dad, I’m glad Mom called,” Dean said, softly.
“You got training you should be doing,” he said.
“I finished the specialty training, Sir. I will get my first assignment when I go back.”
Suddenly, Dean had a vision of looking at his father from outside a hospital room. Doctors and nurses surrounded him, the heart monitor flatlining loudly in his ears. Dean stepped back, momentarily stunned.
“Why are you so dirty, Son? Look at that uniform!”
“I was in the woods for a week just before they sent me home, Dad,” Dean grinned.
“You keep that uniform looking sharp, Dean. Damn, look at you. SERE training and exemplary performances. You’ve done me so proud, Son. So proud.”
Dean did everything he could to get the vision out of his head. He stared at the heart monitor, the rhythms completely normal. They all sat, talking quietly until John ushered them out to go home and get some rest.
The shower was hot and steamy; Dean stood under the high pressure stream until his body was red from heat. Sam was waiting on his bed when Dean came out.
“Now I remember why I hated having adjoining rooms.”
“Oh, shut up,” Sam rolled his eyes.
They both stayed silent as Dean put on a pair of sleep pants and laid down next to Sam.
“He’s going to die,” Sam whispered sadly.
“I know.”
---
Dean sat with Mary and Sam in the living room, they were all silent. Dean had a beer; he raised it to his lips and drank deeply. Sam moved from his chair to the couch next to Dean. It had been a very quiet two weeks, but Dean made sure to spend plenty of time with Sam and Mary; Dean was due back at the airport the next morning to report back to Commander Rothschild. His father had died the second day Dean was at the hospital. Since then, it had been quiet and somber in the house.
“Do you have to go back?” Sam asked sadly.
“Course I do, Sammy. If I don’t, I get arrested,” Dean laughed dryly.
“That’s going AWOL, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” Dean took another long drink, emptying the bottle. “Sergeant Matlok will pick me up in the morning.”
“I’m going up to bed. Don’t stay up too late, Boys,” Mary said. “I’ll be up to see you off in the morning, Dean.” She got up from her rocking chair and gave each of her boys a kiss on the forehead before walking up the stairs.
“Remember when we were little, the Christmas tree would be all lit up and we’d lay down underneath it and pretend we were laying in a field getting ready for battle?” Sam asked, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder.
“Yeah?” Dean said, wondering where his brother was going with this.
“Is that what the stars actually look like?”
“Kind of. When you’re out in the country, you can see thousands. They’re everywhere. Right before I was sent home, we were in the forest on a practice assignment. There were so many stars, Sammy. It was so fun.”
“What if they ask you to do something dangerous?” Sam asked.
“Then I go do it,” Dean said simply.
“What if you die?”
“Then you get my model car collection and tools,” Dean joked, but they both fell silent. They remained silent for a long time before Dean spoke again. “Then I die, I guess. But, Sammy, that’s what I’m trained to do. I’m trained to keep myself and my team alive. I’ll be okay, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart. I, Airman Dean Eric Winchester, promise to do everything in my power to remain alive in my service,” Dean said, proudly. Sam smirked at him. “You gotta promise me something, too, Sam.”
“What?” Sam asked seriously.
“You have to promise you’ll take care of Mom.”
“Cross my heart, Dean,” Sam said, making an ‘x’ over his heart with his index finger.
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Other possible Holocausts: why pro-lifers are lying to us, and why thats a good thing
…
Ive had a running argument over the past few years that the raw lack of anti-abortion terrorist action proves no one really thinks abortion is murder, ie. intentional 1st degree murder of a life equal to yours or mine.
Ive always gotten pushback to quote WillyWang:
The "revealed preference" of those that oppose abortion but don't firebomb clinics and kill doctors? It won't help, you'll be made an example of in the negative sense, and civilized norms are more important than a useless symbolic point. One clinic destroyed won't end abortion, after all.
From which this Effort-post got its Genesis:
Would you say the same about those who participated in the french resistance or Warsaw Ghetto rising to Nazi Germany?
Everyone of those claims applies there: they were likely to be made examples of, they were damaging civilized norms, and any given action had relatively little to no impact.
Yet the same people who insist abortion is murder, and thus that America is committing a holocaust, yet denounce any of the people who employed violence against abortion doctors or clinics, and can’t distance themselves fast enough from any call for violence... none of those people apply the same logic to the first holocaust. None of them say the frenchmen who bombed german police stations where dangerous terrorists who deserved their executions, none of them denounce the Warsaw ghetto rising as an attack on civilization.
…
If anti-abortion advocated genuinely believed a fetus was a equivalent human life to yours or mine or the little kids they see walk to school, and that this was an ongoing holocaust of American Children at a scale possibly 10x or more what was done to the jews... they wouldn’t need to come up with ad hoc reasons why they don’t resort to violence, their mind would be screaming at them to take bloody vengeance 24/7 in righteous outrage, demanding that oceans of blood and fire be unleashed that it might wash clean the horror, that nuclear fire would be be an acceptable emergency shut off to end such wanton and cruel slaughter... and if thinking through all the logic they concluded that no violence wouldn’t help and they must pursue some peaceful negotiation to stop the slaughter, then their minds recoil and call themselves cowards and the moment of coming to that conclusion would be an ongoing trauma they’d carry with them for the rest of their life, even if they knew they were 100% right. They would meet the “pro-choice” and barely be able to conceal their desire to see them dead or imprisoned... they would meet women who had had abortions and scream bloody murder at them and tell them they deserve the death penalty, the way many of the same people react when presented with women who’d murdered their children, but after their children had left the womb.
The people who were jailed for assassinating abortionists, or fire-bombing clinics would be folk heroes lionized in songs and crowd funded hagiographic documentaries and folk traditions, like John Brown, or John Wilkes Booth, or Louis Reil, or Saco and Vancety, or Huey Newton, or Malcolm X, or David Koresh, or Levoy Finecolm... or hell even just Jesse James, or Killdozer.
Americans abort on average 1 million plus babies a year... that means if abortion is murder and those are human lives, then the 50 years since Roe vs.Wade has been a worse crime than the holocaust, slavery, or the crimes of Stalin, and we’d have to consult a historian to see if they were worse than Mao (on a per capita basis, certainly)...
This would be the worse crime ever commited, the greatest mass slaughter ever perpetrated in human history, and 50 years later our society would remain committed to repeating it in the next 50 years.
If that does not demand violence, then nothing in human history ever has, no even defensive war has ever been justified, and only Jainists and Jehovah’s witnesses are morally acceptable actors. An extreme unexceedable pascifism we know the vast majority of anti-abortion advocates do not endorse, since they overwhelming supported or at-least did not conspicuously oppose the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (over a mere 3000 Americans dead, and a less than a years abortions worth of Iraqis killed by Saddam) and continue to conspicuously “Support our troops” troops that exist to carry out violence, despite their moral commitments saying they can apparently never in human history be justified.
.
When i say this proves “Pro-lifers” clearly do not believe a fetus is an equal human life, thats me being incredibly charitable. That is me extending a overwhelming large olive branch, that is me expressing a stupendous care and concern and sympathy and brotherly love to rival the best 19th century dinner host, the dearest of friends, a benevolent older sibling, a lover, a parent, a mother who on hearing the taped confession of her son to serial murder, doesn’t hesitate once before screaming “you monsters you’ve drugged and tortured him! What threats have you made to my grandchild! He would only say such things to save his daughter’s life!”
My claiming they are full of shit and lying to themselves, to you, and to me, is an expression of love and faith in my fellow man which until now I did not realized I possessed nor was capable of...
Because if I merely took them at their word? If I believed that they believed what they say they believe? They would be monsters.
.
Lets play a game called “Other Possible Holocausts”. Approximately 800,000 babies where aborted this year.
Lets imagine the US government has just announced that crime has gotten to cumbersome and that over the next 3 years it plans to execute every single one of the 2.4 million people in US prisons jails and Jeuvenile detention centres.
Lets imagine that to reform education, the US resolves to kill the bottom 1% of all 80 million students in the country based on an age adjusted standardized test every year.
Lets imagine hatred of the obese takes off, and a policy is passed to resolve America’s 30% obesity rate by the mass instituting of bounties on hunting and killing the obese... that every year 800,000 to 1.5 million tags will be issued for a fee to allow the hunting of the obese in return for monetary rewards on successful hunts and getting to keep the carcasses for meat base animal foods and the manufacture of fuel, or fat based household products. These bounty hunters become known a “whalers”.
Lets imagine the US announces its done with African Americans... if the problem hasn’t been solved since 1619, its not going to be... and so they’re going to genocide all 40 million African Americans at a rate of 2% a year, for the next 50 years.
Lets imagine opposing extremists get in charge and decide the racists rednecks have to go, and so they’ll be forming death squads to roam the South, Appalachia, and the rust belt, with the objective of killing 800,000 poor whites a year, “until the problem is solved”... with many happily stating 50 years of this would be acceptable, while others state it’d be perfectly fine to renew it another 50 years after that.
…
These are all American lives, and according to pro-lifers of equal moral value to the babies aborted every day, no better, no worse.
By saying this and by saying violence is not and cannot be justified to resist it, they are saying that their reactions to any one of the above eventualities would be to continue to live their lives as they have lived the past 50 years.
I do not know how to respond to that. Even if Abortion is truly murder of an ensouled equal human life... The Pro-choicers committing the murders don’t think it is... hell the Nazis murdered 6 million jews and a further 5 million undesirables, but they didn’t think of them as human, they thought they were monstrous and “life unworthy of life”, like a burning man begging you to shoot him so he doesn’t suffer or hurt his fellows... a mercy in a way.
Pro-lifers on the other hand claim these are equal viable human lives of equal status to yours or mine or perhaps even greater.... They’re Children.
And their reaction to the greatest mass slaughter in human history, the reaction of almost half the electorate, who regularly talk about the need to resist tyrrany and defend the weak (as both left and right in the US do, in their way), their reaction is to vote every 4 years, and have it perhaps not even be the #1 issue if the economy seems bad, they have the opportunity to vote for the first black president, or the Orangeman says something crude about Mexicans... they won’t be single issue voters even when it comes to the greatest crime ever committed in human history?
.
I refuse to believe it. Even I, cynical as I am, have to believe we are not that far gone, and the age of men has not come crashing down... i would believe the US capable of such a crime, but to believe that a double digit percentage of Americans could look at that, recognize the victims as their fellow humans,recognize their state and society as committing mass murder of their neighbours, future friends, and relatives...to recognize that they have a moral imperative to act on this... and then just go “welp them’s the breaks, gotta be civilized” because 9 people in black robes said it wasn’t murder?
Holy fuck. No that is not how people work, that is not how humans behave, I cannot accept that, and leftists who spent the summer rioting in response to fewer than a thousand police killings of black men a year, who remember the civil rights and anti-war movements, who kinda vaguely recall that they’re supposed to remember Huey Newton, or Saco and Vanseti, or those Rossen...something people... who like to imagine they’d have been abolitionists in the 19th century. They’re right to call bullshit.
They’re right to call the pro-lifers liars who don’t believe their own messaging, and instead just want to control women’s bodies, after a lie like that to their face, they’re right to treat them with scorn.
…
Pro-life is rescuable as a sentiment and an activist movement...
But not while it claims a Holocaust is going on and somehow magically no violence could ever be justified to resist it, thus lining up all the arguments that will allow the next holocaust to be committed without resistance.
There have been a double digit, perhaps even a triple digit number of mass murders and genocides in the hundreds of thousands or millions of people, since the 20th century. America is enabling its ally Saudi Arabia to commit one against the Yemenis right fucking now.
We need to be very fucking clear about what it is justified to do to members of a regime that commits such a crime, and what it is definitely justified to do to the immediate perpetrators of the murder. And That we will back violent resistance to such a horrible crime by the state even if it serves only to make the resister a martyr we’ll praise, or it degrades “civilization” (what civilization could remain in such a regime?), or it ultimately has no effect (it is on the survivor to try harder)... The major members of the House of Saud deserve the Gallows under international law for what they’re doing in Yemen , as do their American attaches and core enablers... and if that comes from a Judge in the Hauge or from a convoy of irregulars in pickup trucks, or from lone assassins who manage to get through to them, It is justice, and i will praise it.
What we cannot do is pretend that genocides and mass slaughter on unconscionable scales are occurring and then come up with excuses for why we should do nothing and anyone who does resist is a criminal. Or else those excuses will be the ones that allow the next real genocide in the west or on US soil to actually happen.
If there is a genocide or democide or whatever you want to call mass slaughter. You must recognize the justice the violent resistance to it, even if you personally do not participate, or you must admit you were lying about there being such a crime... to say otherwise, to say a state can commit such a crime and still retain its right to your loyalty, to say a people up to and including its victims must obey such a thing, a creature made of bureaucracy that has set its sights on massacring humans by the thousands if not millions... it is to side against the human race in a war of extermination.
And as someone whose pro-choice as they come, I’d much rather, if the pro-lifers really believe its murder, I’d much rather they start a bloody civil war, than for it to become the norm that that is ethically acceptable.
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that time of the month (not period) ; john x reader
request: Rough hot n heavy vampire john smut // Can you do a reeeeeally dirty and hard smut? With 70's John and a younger reader. Please :) But like, REALLY rough John
a/n: i joined these two requests, hope thats ok!
pairing: vampire!70s!John x younger!reader
summary: John is looking awfully sick, he needs blood but he won’t take yours.
warnings: smut! vampire sucking, not mention of like heavy blood. fingering, heavy/rough smut
year: 70s
word count: 1102
It was that time of the month again. John was looking awfully thin, weak and pale. He needed blood. You always offered but John refused, saying he could get it from somewhere else. Yet, John was so weak he could barely stand up. Let alone go hunting for blood.
John was your older boyfriend. You had met around a year ago in a dark tavern where he had saved you from some creeps. Ever since then you had been head over heels for him. Even when he told you about his little secret.
He was laying on the bed, a thin layer of sweat laying on his pale forehead. You walked into the room quietly as to not startle him. His eyes were half-closed. You looked at him full of pity. Why won’t he just take your blood? You were more than okay with it. As long as it helped him...
“John, please, just drink my blood.” you said, your voice soft.
“No.” he croaked, his voice raspy. John shook his head furiously but stopped immediately, his head was banging like the morning after a crazy night out.
“Please John, I promise it’s fine.” you sat on the bed next to him and placed your hand carefully over his.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” John said looking up to you, his eyes were watery and hooded.
“I don’t want you to be like this Johnny, please?” you took both his hands in yours and kissed his knuckles, your eyes still on his. His eyes fluttered down to your exposed neck.
“Okay.” he whispered after a long silence in which his eyes kept glancing from your neck to your face. You gave yourself a mental high five and leaned over to John. He sat up on the bed as you wiped your hair to the other side, pulling it away to fully expose your neck. John looked at you as though asking ‘are you sure?’. You nodded.
John sighed and kissed your neck before sinking his teeth through your skin. You had expected a sting, some sort of pain, but instead, you received the most amazing feeling. The feeling travelled through your body and down between your legs. You shut your thighs to get some friction and heard John chuckle. His teeth where still deep inside of you as he sucked on your blood.
Once he had had enough he pulled away, he looked much better now and full of life. He smiled at you and thanked you with a kiss. You took this opportunity and straddle his hips, your hands going around his neck. Slowly, you kissed him. Each passing second adding speed and a starving passion to the kiss.
“Fuck John.” you moaned through the kiss, his hand fell down to your bum and you rocked your hips against his growing bulge.
“Did you like that?” John asked with a knowing smirk.
“Shut up and fuck me.” you snapped, your hands went across your chest as you pulled your t-shirt off of you. “Are you up for this?” you asked seriously, less than five minutes ago he could barely talk.
“Yes.” he quickly said before pulling off his t-shirt as well. You nodded and let yourself by flipped over by John who undressed you quickly. He pulled back to undress himself. You got a good view of his body, he was looking much better now. “Like what you see?” he teased as he took off his socks.
“Yes.” you said confidently. John raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed, before hovering above you. He kissed you roughly, you could feel his sharp, pointy fangs brushing against your lips but you didn’t mind. You kissed him back and snapped your hips forward. John wasted no time in finding your entrance and slipping into you in one swift motion. You were so wet he didn’t need to prepare you.
“Oh, fuck.” you both groaned as John began snapping his hips forward. Your fingers found themselves tangled in his dark hair, pulling slightly on the ends. The tighter you pulled the faster he went.
Your lips never separated his so every moan you made, he felt. John was starting to speed up. He went rougher than ever before. His hips snapping furiously against yours, filling you up and pulling out just in time to hit your g-spot with one harsh motion. Your back arched, pushing your chest onto his, mouth falling open and finally pulling away from John’s red lips.
John’s mouth found your breasts, his lips wrapping around your nipples, his tongue doing wonders. You moaned his name, legs wrapping around his hips pushing him into you even further than before. He reached for your hands, John wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrist and pinned them above your head. His other hand going to your hip and harshly gripping it.
He slammed into you, making the whole bed shake, a couple more times before you came. You squeezed around his cock pushing him over the edge as well. His warm cum filled the insides of you. You could see stars and even then John didn’t stop. He pulled out and saw the cum dripping out of you, his cock went hard again.
John grabbed you and flipped you over making you squeal. You laid on the bed, your breasts pressed against the bed. He leaned over you, his hand going in between your thighs. John spread your legs and rubbed your sensitive clit making you groan. “Oh fuck John, don’t stop.” you said feeling yourself get horny again.
He didn’t.
Slowly, he slipped a finger in and out of you. Each moan you gave made him add another finger. You shut your eyes, legs tense and your hands clutched the bed sheets. John pressed his chest over your back, his skin warm against yours. “You’re doing great for me love.” he murmured, his voice husky and smoky.
You would’ve replied had he not curled his fingers and pressed your g-spot. You were already sensitive from your last orgasm and it only took a couple of curls of his slim fingers to make you cum all over them. You squeezed your thighs shut as John slipped his fingers out of you. He flipped you around with one hand and pulled you up so you were sat on the edge of the bed.
“Lick.” he ordered stuffing three of his fingers in your mouth. You obeyed, tongue swirling around his fingers. You could taste yourself. Watching you suck on his fingers like that made John ever harder.
You were in for a long night.
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#john lennon#john lennon x reader#john lennon smut#john lennon imagine#john lennon one shot#vampire!john lennon#vampire!john lennon smut#vampire john lennon au#the beatles#the beatles x reader#the beatles smut#the beatles imagines#the beatles one shot#the beatles vampire au
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dandelion ⤖ hwang hyunjin
❖ genre : strangers to lovers!au; fluff; angst
❖ word count : 12,2k.
❖ warning : explicit language
❖ summary : it’s funny how you’ve been second-guessing every single thing in life to the T but the only thing you didn’t just happens to be running after a total stranger named Hwang Hyunjin.
one.
“And that, my friend, is the end of the chapter. See, that wasn’t so hard, you just need to pay more attention to the details.” Minho shuts his textbook closed and grins at you from your laptop screen.
Your typical Monday starts with online school and ends with Lee Minho since your non-existent brain cells furiously agree to comprehend zero ounce of what your teacher rambled about accounting. Being the sly snake that he is, Minho ‘kindly’ offered you a weekly tutor session with him. Kindly, that is. And you simply cannot see that specific word in his less than appropriate vocabulary when all he did for the past ninety minutes was repeating the same damn things that your teacher did last week.
You groan rather quietly. “How am I supposed to pay more attention to them when they’re so fucking small ?” And you don’t even have to think twice to see that smug smile appearing on your friend’s face.
One that pops up whenever he’s clinging onto Han Jisung’s back like the sloth that he is, one that also occurs when he’s mentally prepare himself to clapping back at you with the most obnoxious yet witty comment that’s gonna make you wanna jump through the laptop screen and strangle him until he begs you to stop.
“Well, aren’t you being unreasonable ?” Minho tuts. “In fact, the smallest details are by far the most important.” You can’t help but scowl when he’s talking all calmly in his wisdom glory as if he’s Sherlock Holmes and you’re John Waston, running after him from one place to another as he keeps lecturing you and acting all mysterious with his stupid deerstalker.
As if he’s asking you to examine a dead body with grand conclusions and spits at you afterwards “Nice one John, you missed every single essential detail that’d give us a lead, again.” A stark contrast compared to when he’s yelling and running around spontaneously. Tsk, so unnecessary.
You feel a rush of air rising up in your rib cage as you cough harshly into the sleeves of your shirt. “Alright— smartie pants, how about you— go find Han and just make— out on Changbin’s expensive leather couch, yeah ?” You say between coughs, hand reaching for the oxygen tubes that’s carelessly thrown on the side of your bed.
The boys always come over to Changbin’s place for a movie night every Monday. You believe that they’re planning on seeing the sequel of ‘Jumanji’ to switch it up instead of watching Woojin’s sappy dramas. How fitting.
Minho pouts. “Come on sour patch, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to point out how much of a dumbass you are.” And it’s no doubt that those words of his are dripping with sarcasm and fake empathy. He’s too predictable at this point.
Normal people would have freaked out to see their friend choking on air like this but it’s been countless times since Minho saw you hacking up lungs and had people yelling at him “Why the fuck are you just standing there ? She’s dying !” But truthfully, you do that all the time and he just doesn’t want to waste a single chance to at least make fun of you.
You sneer at him. “Hold your fucking tongue, you hypocrite.” As you put on the oxygen tubes and loop them around the rim of your ears, you breath adjusts itself slowly and steadily until you don’t sound like a drowning donkey again.
“Whatever Y/N, I hope you don’t fail Park’s accounting class because that’d ruin my reputation.” Minho rolls his eyes dramatically as if the scene he’s just caused wasn’t dramatic enough in the first place. “Do you have the slightest idea of what I was trying to teach you for the past hour and a half ?” He asks semi-seriously because no matter how passionate he is about pestering you, you failing a subject because of him is the last thing he wants to go home with on his conscience.
“Nope.” You beam.
Minho closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He’s trying so hard not to scream out loud right now, such an amusing sight. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He repeats after himself, sounding more like he’s trying to prevent himself from exploding rather than comforting you about your stupidity. “We can just start over, I’ll just make a quick summary and you try to do the assignments by yourself after this, okay ?”
“Fine.”
And as Minho starts blabbering about the mere basics of accounting, the door swings open to reveal Jackson - your nurse - who’s pushing a cart full of medications inside your room, the wheels screeching against the tiled floor. “Having fun with maths again, I see.” Jackson comments with a mischievous smile.
“Hey Jackson !” Minho inquires innocently. They both used to share a room when Jackson was still in college. Not to mention, he was good friends with 3racha and made dope music for Minho’s auditions. So you can say that Minho’s technically allowed to fanboy a little over your nurse. “You best believe that Y/N has been doing the most to comprehend what I was saying since she just appreciates me so much.”
Jackson cackles loudly, too loudly for the sake of being in a hospital. He’s lucky that they spent a good amount of cold, hard cash to make the walls soundproof. “Just bear with her until freshman year is over. Don’t pick on the sick kid, that’s not very nice.” And now all you want to do is to put both of their heads on a stick because you know that having both Jackson Wang and Lee Minho in the same conversation is equivalent to the definition of ‘oneself against the world’. Because Jackson too, acts like an old bitchy cat and loves to laugh his ass off at your impending misery.
You grit. “Square the fuck up.” But the scowl on your face soon fades as your nurse reaches his hand outwards underneath the blue fabric that has the whole cart covered and pulls out a brown paper bag. Now, it’s Jackson’s turn to give you a dirty look when you gratefully take the McDonal’s order from his hand like a three-year-old. “You peasants can live for the time being.”
“You’re lucky that your body needs 3000 calories per day or else Jaebum will fire me for feeding you junk food so often.” He informs you rather sarcastically as he scatters your description medications across the table where you’d chose to put your collection of stuffed animals instead of other necessities like textbooks or plastic binders. “I didn’t sign up for this FYI, ugh, I need money to pay off student’s loan too you know ?”
And that’s another perfect example of one hundred and one reasons why you’re not pumped for college like other kids. First off, what do you mean if someone’s privileged then they get to turn the assignment in later than everyone else ? And secondly, how the fuck can a graduate pay off their loans when they’re struggling like a fish out of water to find a decent job ? Not to mention, college dramas are the absolute worst. Things won’t be as lighthearted as highschool when students are entering bars with fake IDs and do drugs to get their minds off things that are stressing them out, which is almost everything.
In conclusion, college is just more of a shithole than highschool so you don’t really get the hype about it.
“You’ll be fine, Wang, stop being so whiny.” You snicker and drop a french fire into your mouth before chewing obnoxiously. “Have fun with your night shift.” You wave him off as he glares at you while pushing the cart outside. The moment Jackson swings the door open again, you can see a figure passing by but this one in particular catches your attention. And surprisingly, it’s a boy because it’s been ages since you have some kind of interest in guys, non-platonically of course.
Not to be one of those creepy people, but you’d admit it, he’s quite the looker. Defined nose, full lips and cute mono lids, the air tossing his black mullet like how every protagonist makes their entrance into the movie. But he also has oxygen tubes put on just like you, perhaps you’re in the same boat ? Either way, that’s not the point because while pretty boy’s out there looking like a runway model in sweatpants, you’re nothing more than a couch potato because you’ve been doing nothing other than staying in bed all day.
Good gracious he’s cute.
“And that is how you can work on simple balance sheets.” Your friend closes in but frowns at your lack of attention. The door finally closes with a soft ‘click’, hurrying you back to reality to find a not-so-happy looking Minho. “Y/N, would you be a sweetheart and tell me that you didn’t miss a single detail during the last five minutes ?” His smile is rather stiff because his facial muscles are struggling hard not to burst as anger slowly bottles up inside of his chest captivity. For fuck’s sake, he hates it when you don’t listen on purpose.
You cock your head to the side dumbfoundedly. “Wait— everything makes no sense.”
Minho sighs in desperation. “Oh... what if you were smarter ?”
two.
“Kkami !” Someone exclaims from behind you.
You stop in the middle of your track and take out a side of your earbuds. The footsteps are getting louder and louder by the second along with the male voice. “Excuse me- pardon- Kkami I swear to God !” You decide to take a full ten seconds to comprehend what’s happening before turning around. The next thing you know is your head comes in contact with something hard, causing you to stagger backwards and land on your bottom.
“Ugh, my head.” You wince at the aching feeling on your back as your pupils slowly dilate and adjust your vision on the current surroundings. The moment you lay your eyes on the figure in front of you, your mouth automatically lets out a silent scream. A cute boy just bumped into you, but then again, you wouldn’t overreact if he’s just any other cute boy. But he’s that cute boy who managed to distract you from Minho, who got your attention even when you just stared at him through a barely opened door.
The boy widens his eyes when he sees what he’s caused. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He apologizes with a smile, offering you a hand to pull you up right. “Are you okay ?”
You take his hand, almost flinching when his touch sends electricity throughout your body. His hands are much bigger than yours and are fully capable of enveloping your smaller ones with ease. You like that about him because you’ve never truly experienced what it feels like to hold someone’s hand in a non-platonic way. “Uhm, yeah, I’m okay but are you though ? You sounded like you’re going through a crisis looking for someone.”
He smiles at you, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “My mom brought my dog here and he accidentally ran off.” His laugh is melodic, sounding just like Mozart to your ears and you can’t help but crack a smile too. “It was nice meeting you, and I really have to go find him before he got to the NICUs or something… but I think we should get to know each other more. What do you say ?” He chides with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
You yank his hand away harshly. “I thought you’re better than that.” It’s ridiculous how boys with A+ look can just slide into your lives and stay for as long as they want then just disappear as if they’ve never been there in the first place. You’d hate to see a version of yourself who spends all day crying in bed because some bastard doesn’t love her back so this pretty boy over here better go before you throw him off a cliff.
“Don’t ever talk to me again.” And with that, you walk away without turning your head, not even once. Well, so much for a Tuesday afternoon. Tuesdays are supposed to be easy-going for you since you just have to get yourself through several assignments and essays but someone just had to pop up in your life and ruin everything.
The scowl on your face drops when you push the glass door of the pediatric unit open. Immediately, the kids see you and quickly abandon their nurses to run towards your direction. Your dad just got back from a business trip in Sydney and he still thinks that you’re a nine-year-old so your room is basically filled with candies and other sweet treats. That’d better change today. “Behave well and all of you will have one.” You chuckle at the kids’ eagerness, personally handing one bag over to each and every one of them.
Five minutes later, the amount of treats are slowly trickling down until there’s only one bag left. In which, you’ve saved it for a specific someone since he’s just that obsessed with Australian candies. Your phone buzzes. How convenient.
[ 3:45p.m. ]
yongbokie | okay, I’m here, where are you ?
y/n | seventh floor, just go straight down the hallway and it’s on the right side.
“Here’s your worksheets, now where’s my Tim Tam Slam ?” Felix shoves the stack of papers into your arms as soon as he spots you inside the pediatric unit, surrounded by children, a whole lot of children. He knows your love for kids all too well and the fact that you’re lonely in this hospital is no shocker. Meaning, you’re a part-time kindergarten teacher ( aka whenever you feel like slacking off on school work ).
You scoff at him, throwing the bag of candies at him with as much aggression. “Changbin’s gonna kick you out sooner or later if you end up looking like a pig, enjoy it while you can.” That’s obviously useless since Seo Changbin is as utterly soft for Lee Felix as you are for kids. Both are annoying little pricks but somehow, your little heart can never get mad. “And you better share that with Chan too or else he’s gonna write an entire diss track about me.”
“CB97’s new diss track material is apparently Tim Tam Slam, how terrific.” Your friend snickers and tears the bag open single handedly with his teeth while his other hand tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t even need a cup of hot chocolate, that’s how bad Felix is craving his childhood candy.
“Ooh, earrings ? And jeans too ?” He cocks a brow at your dainty pieces of jewelry. And you never wear jeans in the hospital, never. You think that’s it’s equivalent to asking someone to suffocate you as if the hospital isn’t suffocating enough. “Who are you trying to impress ?”
Upon his teasing, you let out an audible groan. For once in your life, you’ve made up your mind and actually packed something decent because hospital romance is a thing and you need to be prepared at all times. Not to mention, you might as well snatch yourself a guy who’s totally father material because you hang out at the pediatric unit most of the time. “Haha, very funny. Try and find me someone cute then.”
Just then, very slowly, a familiar figure takes long strides towards your direction. “Anyone, but him.” You deadpan.
“Him ?” Felix says over a mouthful of chocolate as he turns his head to the front door.
And holy shit.
To your dismay - with a bag over his shoulder, face flushed from running with beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks that make him glow like Edward Cullen and his wet fringe covering his eyes slightly — is the pretty boy from yesterday, well, more like five minutes ago. They say everything’s uglier close-up but not him. He’s absolutely breathtaking, undeniably brilliant as if he had just stepped out from an anime. But you’re not falling for that perfect smile again, at least for the time being.
“Oh hell no.” Felix quickly identifies the boy and hangs his jaw open, the plastic wrapper falling out from his hand. You look at your friend in disbelief, your expression mirroring his - completely lost for words.
The boy waves his hand at him and smiles widely. “Yongbok !” And just like that, your brain starts to process the new amount of overwhelming information. Slowly, and steadily, all the dots are connected. That guy is definitely heading towards your direction. No one knows Felix’s Korean name unless they’re close friends or family members. Jesus motherfucking Christ-
Felix demands loudly. “Hyunjin, do not move !”
The pretty boy - whose name is apparently Hyunjin - stops abruptly at his friend’s sudden outburst. He turns his head only to accidentally make eye contact with you. Cocking a brow, he averts his attention back to Felix. You too, tug on your friend’s sleeve before questioning him.
“You know him ?” “You know her ?”
Felix widens his eyes in terror and quickly pushes Hyunjin away. “You people are insane ! Six feet away at all times, it’s a fucking simple protocol !”
“Huh- wait what ?” You stutter. Soon enough, all of the colors on Hyunjin’s face are completely drained and a worrisome feeling suddenly runs down your spine.
You exchange a weird look with him. “Don’t tell me that you’re a...“
“Are you also a… “
Felix face palms himself. “You fucking guessed it.”
three.
The next few weeks get a little bit mayhem since you’re wrapping up the semester while being hospitalized at the same time. Meaning, you’re struggling real hard to balance the whole feud with finals and all of the medical stuff along with really boring paperwork because your body decided to fail you once again.
No one was really able to give you company since they have to deal with their own problems too. Your parents are busy with their draining business trips while your brother - Woojin is getting his bachelor degree soon. And Minho is graduating in less than a month. Moreover, you haven’t met the pretty boy since your first and only encounter.
Speaking of the Devil, “Fancy seeing you here.”
You peel your eyes away from your laptop and see Hyunjin. In which, almost makes you fall right off the stool that you’ve been occupying for the last hour. You’re still procrastinating like highschool but you’re actually determined to finish your essay because if not, you won’t be able to walk away from your problems again.
“Six feet away at all times, not six feet under the ground. So knock it off.” You deadpan, ushering him further away with a wave of your hand. If you were being completely honest, Hyunjin just took the breath right out of your lungs at the slightest glance. Time really does make people blind because you almost forgot that although he did try to flirt with you that one time, he’s also drop dead gorgeous. And that makes your heart tingles, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Hyunjin makes a ‘I’mma-need-you-to-relax’ face and takes a seat on the opposite side of the table. “You still radiate big passive aggressive energy, not so good of a first impression.”
You laugh dryly. “Speak for yourself. Talk about some shitty flirting skills.”
“In my defense,” He raises a brow and throws you a look, one that makes you feel personally attacked. “I was genuinely trying to make friends, you sure know how lonely it is to be hospitalized all the time, don’t you ?”
You sneer at him. “Well, you picked the wrong person.”
“How am I supposed to know that you’re also a CF-er ?! You weren’t wearing your oxygen tubes.”
Apparently, you think that life hates you more than most of the world’s population because you weren’t just born with cystic fibrosis, you were born into it. The genetic disease gifts you with constant lung infections and gives you a hard time to breath in order to function like a normal human being. More accurately, the protein inside your body becomes dysfunctional so it loses the ability to move chloride to the cell surface. Meaning, the mucus in various organs can attract more bacteria along with germs, causing infections and inflammation.
So naturally, minimizing contact with any kind of germs and other CF-er are your top priorities unless you want to catch their bacteria and choke to death on it instead. With that being said, you’ve just come to a realization that Hyunjin touched you the other day, skin to skin without any kind of protection like gloves. Some CF-ers have caught each other’s bacteria before by touching a doorknob, and that story scared you shitless.
You speak up, finally. “Uhm… so.. were you okay ?”
“If you’re asking if I got cross-infection or not, then no, I’m totally fine. None of that B. cepacia shit.” Hyunjin answers while avoiding your eyes. He quietly reaches inside his backpack and pulls out a blue binder that looks like it’s been used since elementary school because plastic never really goes away.
You raise a curious brow when he pulls out some pieces of papers that are covered in an awfully dizzy amount of words. “What you got there, pretty boy ?”
“Now you’re talking, I almost ended up on the ground laughing when you thought that I was nothing but a shallow fuckboy.” Hyunjin is still pissed off because not only did you despise him, you also happens to be Felix’s best friend. Totally irrelevant, but he’s also mad at Felix for not telling him about you sooner. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want the both of you to accidentally kill each other or anything but still, Hyunjin did hold your hand and nothing happened.
You prop your head on your hand, lips cracking a smile. “But I’m interested now, no hard feelings. You really need to lighten up drama lama.” You’re just noticing this now, but it seems like he’s really similar to Felix. Point break, he’s an easy victim to pick on anytime, anywhere. Of course you’re going to take advantage of this.
Hyunjin replies monotonously. “I need to practice my lines for the upcoming play for finals season.” He’s trying so hard not to give in and smile at you because he’s decided to play hard to get.
“No wonder why you’re a dramatic little dipshit. How fitting.” You grin coyly at the scowl on his face. “Okay, sorry, let me tone that down. What are you guys playing ?”
Hyunjin groans. “We’re trying to fit an entire season of ‘Once Upon a Time’ into a two-hour play. And my fucking God, Captain Hook has a shit ton of lines.” Although it does appeal as a privilege to other people that drama majors can skip through the whole ‘cramming and crying’ to pass their finals, what people don’t know is the amount of work and effort that needs to be put into a single play. It requires patience, team chemistry, diligence and lots of, lots of caffeine to have a decent performance for the whole school.
There was this one time he pulled seven all nighters in a row just to finish ‘Peter Pan’ before the holiday hit. And for the following five days, he basically lived on his bed and fed on leftover pizza that his roommate refused to microwave.
You offer him kindly. “Maybe I can help you practice ?” You really feel like a fucking angel with your own imaginary halo shining ever so brightly on the top of your head. “I got nothing better to do anyway, not planning on being stuck with accounting 24/7 or I’m gonna end up in an insane asylum.”
“Thought you’re already in one.”
“Say that again and I’ll skin you alive !”
four.
Hwang Hyunjin is fortunately blessed by whatever gods up there because you finally finished finals way before the D-day of his play. Which means you feel even more obligated to help him practice his lines.
But in all seriousness, he technically doesn’t need you because all you do is read the other characters’ lines right off the script anyway. Unlike you, even in the hospital cafeteria with a stainless steel fork as the hook on his right hand, Hyunjin plays the character as if he’s the one and only, non-biological heir of Leo DiCaprio.
You can see why he chose the dramatic arts because he embraces and studies closely every movement, every gesture, every inch of flesh, every drop of emotion that his character has to offer. No wonder why they let him play one of the male protagonists because you can’t imagine anyone other than him play the iconic Captain Hook. And it’s actually nice to not having him spatting some kind of witty comments at you every two minutes.
You clap your hands together. “Act 4. Scene 1.”
“I already told you, I’m just a blacksmith !” Hyunjin tries to whimper as quietly as possible to avoid dirty looks from other people. He’s portraying that scene where Hook basically got tied up on a tree so that the others could get him talking.
Your eyes narrow down into a glare, mentally throwing daggers at his general direction. Meaning if Hook doesn’t spill who he really is, he’s gonna be the monster’s meal in a matter of time. “You won’t talk to us ? Maybe they’ll talk to you and snatch one of your limbs for lunch.”
“You can’t just leave me here like this !” He sudden yelps, startling you in the process. You quickly avert your attention from the script to his eyes, clearly they show nothing but desperation and mischief. As the character should have.
“Su-Sure you’re not.” You stutter, not knowing how to express the words inside the parentheses.
Hyunjin guides you patiently. “Say it like you’re gonna set me on fire if I dare to test you. Be aggressive, talk aggressively, act aggressively. Aggressive is your middle name now.” His voice starts to get louder and louder at the end, a thing that he accidentally adapted from Chan. He doesn’t even need megaphones to yell at someone at this point.
You give him a curt nod before gripping the script tightly once again. If you’re gonna help him, you’ll have to make it seem like you’re not slacking off.
“Sure you’re not.” You deadpan, cringing at your own attempt to sound intimidating. Acting was never your thing either way. You’ve only been chosen for pity roles like ‘Girl #2’ or ‘Tree #5’ for some plays back in middle school and the beginning of highschool.
He smirks. “Good for you. You bested me. I can assure you that the number of people who have done that before can only be counted on one hand.”
Another thing, you fucking love Emma Swan because she’s practically your twin. The only thing is that you’re not even half as badass as her. Sometimes you don’t even realize that there’s a script in your hands this whole time. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be funny ? Who are you ?”
“Kilian Jones.” Hyunjin says with a glint of fierceness flickering in his irises. His intense gaze almost makes you run straight into the restroom and scream for a good five minutes. “But most people have taken to call me by my more colorful moniker, Hook.” The rasp in his voice sends chills to the core of your bones.
You cock a brow. “As in, Captain Hook ?”
He beams. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”
You pant slightly out of nervousness, gripping onto the edge of the wooden stool for fuck’s sake. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.”
Hyunjin shakes his head gently. “Don’t just read out the line. Don’t become the character. Make the character yours. Make it seems like her lines are personally tailored to every single detail of your existence.” He’s mentoring you as if you’re the one who plays Emma Swan and not that one pretty girl from his class. You swear, you’re not a stalker, he literally just spilled everything about his life after very few conversations with you.
You nod. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.” This time, you finally got a good grip on the character’s emotions, slowly falling into a haze.
“Cora told me to gain your trust so that I can learn everything there is to know about your storybook.” Hyunjin singsongs, lips curling upwards. You really want to deck him in the face right now. That’s how good of an actor he is. “She didn’t want any surprises when she got over there.”
You pretend to be in disbelief, jaw dropping in the process. “She can’t go there. We already destroyed the wardrobe.”
He chuckles this time. God you wish you can wipe that stupid smirk off his face, although everything’s just an act. “Ah, my enchantment remained. Cora gathered the ashes and she’s gonna use them to open a new portal.” He looks at you, wiggling his brows to show off his skills before continues. “Now, if you’d just kindly cut me loose—“
“Let’s go.” You say monotonously to your non-existent cast, waving your free hand as a signal for them to walk away.
“Wait !” Hyunjin slams his fist on the table loudly. It seems like he’s getting immersed in the character again because he can’t be bothered to give two shits about the fact that everyone’s having their eyes on him. More accurately, on the two of you. “You need me alive !”
You also try to ignore all of the weird looks. “Why ?”
“Because we both want the same thing. To get back to your land.” When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, you nod at him to continue with the script. “I initially arranged for transport with Cora, but seeing just how resourceful you are, I’ll offer you the same deal. I’ll help you as long as you promise to take me along.”
You clear your throat. “How are you going to help us ?”
Hyunjin proceeds to elaborate, slowly. “The ashes will open a portal but to get to your land, she’ll need more. There’s an enchanted compass, Cora seeks it. I’ll help you obtain it before she does.”
“So Cora won’t make it to Storybrooke and we’ll be one step closer to being home. Sounds too good to be true.” You mock him, the corners of your mouth twitching slightly.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
“I’ll need you to tell me one thing then.” You point the tip of your sword (knife) directly at his throat (a good three inches away) as an attempt to threaten him. “What does the infamous Captain Hook want in Storybrooke ?”
“To exact revenge on the man who took my hand. Rumplestiltskin.” Hyunjin finishes his line and claps, breaking out of character. He looks disturbed at the particular way that you’re pointing the knife at him. “And… cut ! Put the knife down, Y/N. You’re a sadist, not a murderer.” He pushes the piece of cutlery away as if it’s a ticking bomb.
This time, it’s your turn to wiggle your brows at him. “You don’t know me. What if I’m an actual murderer who preys on the innocent at night, when everyone’s fast asleep in their cozy beds, when they’re the most vulnerable ? What if I’ve been living a double life this entire time and you’re my next target ?” Actually, scratch that. Hyunjin thinks you’re pretty fitting for the role of Regina aka the Evil Queen.
“Admit it you moron, you’re a sucker for my acting.” He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise. It seems like Hyunjin has adapted the habit of holding grudges from Felix because the shy pretty boy that you met a few weeks ago is nowhere to be seen. Like he has grown accustomed to you, he treats you like an old friend, just catching up on things with each other. But in reality, his confidence level just went from a 100 to Han Jisung because you’ve been feeding his ego way too much.
“There’s room for improvement.” You shrug, trying to keep a straight face. Emphasis on the ‘trying’ part. “Bet you’d do better if that pretty girl was here.”
Hyunjin blows a few strands of loose hair out of his face. He looks really good with disheveled hair, and it’s tickling something at very bottom pit of your stomach. “Kinda wish you could play Emma. You two are literally the same person. She’s just slightly cooler because at least she doesn’t sleep with opened windows.”
“Is this a fucking call out ?” You hold back the urge to slap him with your slippers. “My room’s on the third floor for fuck’s sake.”
“Rapists can climb.” He smiles cheekily and it makes you ponder about how many more questionable behaviors of his you'd have to deal with for the long future. “You’re definitely going, don’t leave me hanging okay ?” Hyunjin declares and slaps a ticket on the wooden surface, sliding it across the dining table.
You blink countless times at the ticket, hesitating to grab it with your bare hands. “Take it, I’m wearing gloves anyway.” He reassures you, skimming through some of the scenes that he feels like he could do better. Hyunjin might not look like it but he’s really hard on himself. He takes every single scene, every single line seriously and you admire that about him. He even complained to you how he could have done better for the role of Diaval for ‘Maleficent’ from last month’s play.
“So the play’s on March 20th ?” You play dumb and pretend to question him after reading the bold letters written in gold.
Hyunjin peels his eyes away from the script and smiles, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “Yeah, the day that I’m turning 21, kinda terrifying but since it’s adulthood, I’ll have to bear with it for the rest of my life. At least I have the right to make decisions for myself now.”
You ask him timidly as your hand fiddle with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Uhm so, do you wanna, I don’t know, get coffee after that or something ?”
He gives you a dirty look, hard. Clearly Hyunjin’s annoyed. “Look who wants coffee now.”
“That’s not a ‘no’ that I heard.”
“You’d better pay up then, I haven’t got paid yet.”
five.
[ 8:23p.m. ]
y/n | meet me on the terrace.
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Hyunjin mutters as he rushes to the dressing room, and even more loops of ‘oh my god’ run through his mind, faster than a lighting bolt. He totally forgot about you until you made eye contact with him when the cast members took a full ninety degrees bow to the audience. You were clapping, cheering on for him like an old friend. But you were smiling, so brightly that he thought you could have lit up the entire stadium on your own.
Chan finally finishes bowing to the rest of the cast and the crew. He feels like he can only breathe properly once the play came out smoothly. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Minho slipped over his long coat during the second scene, Seungmin was struggling with the lighting and Jisung nearly threw himself over the balcony. Besides that, everything went pretty okay. Little errors are unavoidable so he’ll let everything slide, because the play that he spent months planning out, training the cast so eagerly didn’t come out as a flop.
“Woah, mate, where are you going in such a hurry ?” He quirks a brow when Hyunjin swings the door open, hair disheveled with ‘panic’ written in bold capital letters across his forehead.
Changbin supplies unhelpfully as he steps out from behind the black curtain. Little strips of confetti are sticking onto his sweaty hair, thanks to Jisoo who kinda went overboard with the can of hairspray. “He invited a friend to come in and watch the play, can’t leave her hanging now, can he ?” He wiggles his brows in the most obnoxious way possible, being the little pest that he is.
“I didn’t even say that my friend’s a girl— she’s not even my friend— wait, she is but we’re not that close— what, fuck you.” Hyunjin gives up after four attempts of forming an actual sentence. As if he’s forgotten how to speak, his voice fails him once again when a witty retort lingers at the tip of his tongue. He gives in and goes behind the curtain, quickly changing out of his costume. Like okay, pirates are cool and all but their sense of fashion is pretty questionable because leather boots and salt water ? Not compatible.
Changbin peels the confetti off his hair before singsonging. “Our Hyunjinnie got himself a date, he’s all grown up now.”
Chan throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. This is why he’s not planning on falling for someone soon because having a chaotic, annoying group of friends can only make things so much more difficult. “Give him a break, Bin. A boy can love whoever his heart yearns for.” Then he pauses, and continues. “Do you want to tell us something about her ?”
Hyunjin scrunches his nose and starts singing. “Sing a yo ho, you can beg, plead and whine. But yo ho you are wasting your time.” The moment he finishes the line, he’s already changed into his normal clothing and pushed the curtain open.
Chan and Changbin looks unimpressed. They both think that their friend should really stop quoting his own lines. Hyunjin throws Changbin the hook, then checks his own reflection in the mirror. Not too shabby, at least he didn’t forget to shave this morning. But it’s just you after all, you’d never judge him… wait no you’re highly judgmental. You once called him out for having a piece of carrot in the corner of his lips, shameless.
“Hear me out one last time, mates. Then I’ve got a date with destiny.” Hyunjin continues to sing because he’s absolutely enjoying every moment of Changbin suffering and mentally dying on the floor. He wouldn’t even feel bad if his ears started bleeding or something, hanging out with weird people have turned him into a sadist, just like them. Tragic.
Before Chan decides to wrestle him to the floor, Hyunjin starts moonwalking towards the door as he jumps straight to the last bits of the song. “Sing a yo ho, I’ll meet her tonight. Yo ho must be fate’s design. At last our hearts can be intertwined, can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. God is on my side.” He’s just making up lyrics at this point nothing makes sense anymore.
The door shuts with a small ‘click’, making him snap his mouth closed. Then I’ve got a date with destiny. Right, a date. Well, it’s technically not a date when you asked him to meet up on the terrace where there’s so much to offer. A brilliant view of the city, the ethereal moonlight which sets the atmosphere, just you and him standing face to face.. holy shit it’s a date ?
“You’re late.”
Hyunjin whines loudly at your cold statement and supports himself on his knees, chest heaving up and down at an abnormal space. Cystic fibrosis and ten flights of stairs are like water and oil, they don’t blend. “I was changing, do you know how hard it is to slip out of those leather combat boots ?” Upon your silence, he leans himself against the metal railings and sighs, standing a good six feet away from you. “Hey, at least I looked fly in them.”
You automatically groan because fuck yes, he did look hot. Pirates aren’t supposed to be hot, they’re supposed to be smelly barbarians with shitty attitude. “Since when are you so cocky ?”
Hyunjin tuts. “I’m very much aware of how good looking I am, thank you for taking your precious time to care about my tiny existence on this glorious planet.” He cocks his head sideways, narrowing his eyes at your sketchy posture. Both hands are hidden behind your back and you’re trying too hard to keep a straight face. “What are you hiding from me ?”
“Nothing.” You let out a small giggle. Clearly he’s not buying it. “Fine, close your eyes.”
Hyunjin frowns at you but still closes his eyes nonetheless. He has enough faith in you that you won’t have the heart to knock him out cold before selling him off to some kind of mafia organization. “Y/N if you’re planning on kidnapping me, you might as well just do it—“ The words grow dead on his tongue once a small ‘pop’ occurs. What the fuck ?
“Hey Hyunjin.”
He flutters his eyes open at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. His hand immediately fly to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up !” He utters, shocked at what’s happening in front of his eyes. “You’re kidding, you’re kidding, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
You laugh loudly at how frantic he is once you get down on one knee with a black velvet box in your hand. A silver band with his name engraved on the inside. “Hwang Hyunjin, can you fathom enough courage to walk with me through your youth even though sometimes you wish you could throw me off a cliff ? Can you bear the burden of indulging an impulsive and indecisive person like me in the long run ? Because if you can, then happy 21st birthday, you’re officially stuck with me with the label of being best friends.”
Hyunjin teases, lips curling up into a smile. “Can’t you be a little bit more romantic ?” Although he’s decently attractive, he’s still one of those guys who bury themselves in hopeless romance just because he spends way too much time on Netflix watching some random sappy show while Kkami is watching some stupid dog documentary right next to him on the couch.
“Fine, I also got myself one. We’re matching.” You confess, showing him your band resting nicely around your index finger. “Since I just know you so well, are you happy with your present now birthday boy ?”
You finish it off by slipping the ring onto his finger like a cherry on top of a sundae, watching in amusement at how his face is lighting up with joy. “Wow,” He manages the breath out, as light as a feather. “You’re so fucking cheesy, I hate you.”
You laugh wholeheartedly. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. You have a whole party waiting for you to inhale. Cakes and junk food and all.”
When you stand up right again, shivers run down on your spine at the cold breeze passing by. The wind greets concrete and your skin just the same, tearing through the air and banging loudly against your eardrums. Hyunjin suddenly grabs the sides of your face, still keeping a good distance between you two. Your cheeks are instantly tinted pink at his touch. “Y/N ! Can you hear me ?!” He tries to shout over the wind but fails miserably.
“What ??” You ask loudly, not being able to catch what he was trying to say.
“No, you can’t hear me ??”
“What ? I can’t hear you !”
He beams at you and the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. “I have something to tell you !” If he’s doing this now, there’s no going back.
“I still can’t hear you !”
Hyunjin ignores your confused expression. He slowly inhales to take a deep breath before shouting his heart out at you. “Y/N, I’ll protect you ! No matter what !”
You can’t quite understand what he’s trying to convey to you but seeing him smiling so widely like this, you know that you could never trade him for anything else. Because no one has ever made you feel this way before, heart pounding inside your rib cage so loudly just by looking at him. You like how you can just see him, and be happy.
He’s irreplaceable.
six.
Felix glares at the silver band wrapping around your finger, one that’s particularly matching with Hyunjin’s. “So what ? You two are dating now ?”
“Lee Felix I swear to god, for the tenth time, it’s a just birthday present !” You cry loudly at your best friend overreaction.
Jeongin butts in. “Yeah right, rings, matching and all. Don’t you think that’s a little bit romantic ?” You’re so fed up with these theatre kids it’s actually ridiculous, you’d rather be cursed than have them singsong into your ears everyday about how you and Hyunjin are acting somewhat sketchy. Sure, being dramatic is naturally what they do for a passion but sometimes you just can’t help it but snap at them to go and kiss a statue.
“That’s the point of it, dipshit.” Hyunjin sips on his drink obnoxiously, reading through the final page of his reading assignment in a haze. He’s a little bit out of it from running around all day to not get yelled at by his professors for being late to every single damn lecture. “I’m desperate, I need something cute to lighten up my sad life so don’t judge me.”
Jisung suddenly pries loudly because unlike you or Hyunjin, he actually gives zero fuck about publicity and personal information. “Hyunjin and Y/N ? I ship it ! Since you both have been super single and super antisocial for so long, why not date each other ? Get married even, don’t you dare forget my invitation.”
Needless to say, he quickly earns a smack on the head from Seungmin, hard. Hard enough to knock some logic and common sense into that little disturbing glimpse of thing that they call ‘a brain’ inside his head. “God, Han, you’re so dumb. If you want them to both choke on each other’s bacteria and die, then yeah, hit a five-star restaurant up with that reservation.”
Sometimes Seungmin wonders why he even befriended Han Jisung in the first place. They nearly threw hands at each other back in highschool because Jisung would constantly forget his stuff inside Seungmin’s locker and Chan had to manually pull them apart later.
“Actually..” Hyunjin fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. “I think I might have my eyes on someone.” Your heart automatically sinks at his words. Is this what betrayal feels like ? How come he’s never told you before ? Didn’t he promise that he’d never hide anything from you ? Does your friendship mean nothing to him at all ?
You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t once thought about dating Hyunjin. But you don’t really see the point because it’s just a label over your relationship, it’s not gonna change how you treat each other. At least it’s not gonna change how you treat him.
But in the end, you want nothing but the best for him so you’re obligated to become his dating counselor.
Felix tuts eagerly. “Ooh, spill the tea. I’m here for it.”
“Let me guess, it’s that girl from Literature & Criticism 19B ?” Jeongin yawns lazily. Apparently he’s not digging the fact that Hyunjin doesn’t have any non-platonic interest in you.
Hyunjin shakes his head profusely. “No ! We barely talk, it was only for a presentation from last month. And also I feel kinda awkward around her. Things never click between us.”
Then, he proceeds to continue with dreamy eyes. “The girl that I’m talking about is so beautiful, so smart, so brave. She enjoys food like no other, like no one is watching and isn’t ashamed of the fact that she can live off donuts and Netflix for three weeks straight. She’s honest, playful but also very gentle and caring. Kinda reminds me of my mom, which is weird but whatever. Maybe people finding a sense of comfort in their partner who’s similar to their parents is a thing.”
The look in his eyes makes your heart crack a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit. It’s that kind of look that you’ve never seen before but know too well what’s behind those brown eyes of his. The goddamn look one can only have when they’re thinking about that special someone who effortlessly makes their heart swell, who puts a smile on their face no matter what. It’s also that kind of look that you have whenever you’re thinking about Hyunjin.
“Alright lover boy,” You crack a smile, rolling up your sleeves because things are about to go down. “You’ve just got yourself a dating counselor. A good old trusty friend who’s gonna be there if you accidentally have a mini mental breakdown on your first date.”
“What do you know about dating ?” Felix’s more than stingy comment just stabs your sky high ego like a needle pricking the tip of a finger.
You kick his knee from under the table, earning a low grunt in return. “I am the best in the business. Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan ? I did that.”
Then you lace your fingers together neatly and look at Hyunjin dead in the eye. “So, what’s your ideal first date ?”
He makes a thinking face. “I haven’t thought about that yet but maybe.. a hike ?”
“Huh, cool.” You take a total of ten full seconds to process what he just said.
You deadpan. “It’s a hard no. Consider the fact that she needs nothing but donuts and Netflix in her life, you’re gonna have to rage war with Satan in order to get her out of the house. Popcorn and blankets are total necessities, make them extra fuzzy too. Let’s stick a pin in that, we’ll get back to it later.”
Felix asks, followed by a loud yawn. “Copy that, what shows is she into ?”
Hyunjin lets out a prolonged sigh. “I’m not so sure but she hates rom-coms and sappy dramas with a passion.” If you’re being completely honest, he really needs to calm down because if a girl is willing to cuddle with him, she’ll literally watch anything. And by that, you mean she will definitely pass out after the long winded introduction of the two protagonists.
“Sounds like a gal who’d watch The Umbrella Academy.” And you totally didn’t say that just because it’s your favorite show. Because for once, Netflix actually didn’t produce something that was undeniably shitty.
Hyunjin sounds uncertain. “I have never seen it before.”
“But he can ?” Jeongin raises a brow.
You shake your head gently. “The show is vicious, violent and contains extremely disturbing content along with really shitty relationships between siblings. Also, the humor doesn’t suit you. Does a fifty-year-old man who’s stuck inside a thirteen-year-old boy’s body and is also someone who fell in love with a mannequin, grew up in a broken family, and became a murderer who timetravels sound enjoyable or what ?”
Seungmin makes a face. “That can be a dealbreaker.”
“Meet us halfway here !” Jisung clatters loudly.
“Sorry, let me back it up a little bit.” You put your hands up in defense. “Hyunjin, it doesn’t matter if all you want to do is go out on a hike and she just wants to curl up into a ball inside her blanket. It doesn’t matter if you guys have different taste in movies. Nothing matters if she truly feels the same way for you because as long as the feeling is mutual, she’d definitely do anything to satisfy your picky ass.”
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He turns his head to face the window and a grin quietly curls its way up on his lips.
You should have seen the look on your face.
seven.
Woojin growls at you from your laptop screen. “It’s one in the morning ! Get the fuck back to sleep !”
He’s extra cranky today because he just finished off his final paper before graduation happens. Running on one hour of sleep per day with a cup of espresso doesn’t sound like the most ideal thing to do but fuck that, he’s not gonna throw all those years of crying over overdue projects in the trash.
You on the other hand, are so fucking close to soil your pants because your heart is literally dangling off the edge. It’s either gonna roll backwards and land safely as if nothing has ever happened or everything’s going downhill from there. An endless pit of impending misery. And you’d hate to see yourself shedding tears while hogging a bucket of ice cream in your bed like a psychopath. So your only option is unfortunately, your hard headed, dumbass brother.
But he’s not a complete idiot because his brotherly sixth sense is still there, and it’s never been better. “Okay, something’s up. Spill before I personally drag my ass to the hospital and beat you up to get something out of you.”
You stutter, tripping over your own words like an absolute fool. “It’s— uhm… whatever, it’s not a secret anymore. It’s— it’s—“
“It’s Hwang Hyunjin.” Your brother reads your mind like a magician, leaving you utterly speechless. But it’s not even a surprise because apparently, everyone knows about your feelings for Hyunjin, just not Hyunjin himself. He’s unbelievably dumb even when Minho and Jisung keep on hinting at him in a not very subtle way. And that makes you wonder why you even fell for him in the first place. Even that fat cat who always takes naps on your balcony knows because you’d be smiling stupidly while FaceTime-ing Hyunjin all the time. It’s a miracle that the cat has not once given you a dirty look.
You sigh. “Yeah, I‘m confused.”
“About what ?” Woojin huffs tiredly and blows some strands of hair out of his face.
You blurt, panic mode is fully on. “About why I like Hwang Hyunjin so fucking much when he already had romantic interests in another girl !”
Woojin thinks you’re being ridiculous and stubborn at the same time, which can make things that much harder for him to break it down for you. Firstly, if one is loved, then one is loved. There’s no reason needed for loving. This might sound like total bullshit, but ‘love at first sight’ is a thing, people are just too heartbroken to accept it these days. Secondly, if you really like Hyunjin all that much, you should be spilling your heart out at him, not at your brother. But whatever, Woojin is one step closer to pushing you towards confessing to your crush because he’s gifted with the ability to prevent you from doing anything dumb.
“Then what makes you not wanting to like him ?”
You widen your eyes. “What ?”
Woojin shakes his head gently, an exasperated sigh escapes his lips. “You can’t love all of him. This is real life, not a fucking John Legend’s song. If you don’t even know what you hate about him in the first place, you’re not gonna know why you like him relentlessly.” His words slowly sink into your mind, trains after trains of thoughts are dashing through your mind at the speed of light. Goddamn, your brother is right.
“Gosh, I don’t know. I can’t hate him even when I want to.” Before you can pick every single strand of hair off your head, Woojin once again snaps you back into reality with a serious look on his face. He’s not messing around this time. “One, he’s a CF-er. And two, I’m not gonna be the one who walks down the aisle to have them announce our marriage. Three, he only sees me as a friend.” There’s no happy ending for people like you, especially you. The moment you found out that Hyunjin’s also a CF-er, you knew all too well that it’s over for you both.
Your brother scrunches his nose in annoyance. He really should have signed you up for a dating counseling session. “You don’t know what the future holds. It could be better, it could be worse. Or nothing would change at all. Whatever happens, humans still yearn for the happy ending of their own imagination. Because after all, we were the one who pushed ourselves towards dead ends.”
“What’s so wrong with loving someone ?”
“There’s nothing wrong with loving someone, but how we love them.”
Again, Woojin’s right. Every minute, every second, every moment with Hyunjin always leaves you completely stripped and vulnerable. All of your concerns, insecurities, and strength are revealed unintentionally. And the walls that you’ve spent years building ? Mercilessly destroyed. Someday, you’ll either look back on it and smile or you’ll realize that once you’ve fallen, there’s no turning back. You just can’t control who you’ll fall for.
Being in love with Hyunjin is another reason why you believe that life hates you to the very core of your bones. It’s like the whole universe is playing with your mind, because all it takes is to make Hyunjin exists at the same time as you do. That alone is enough to mess up your entire existence.
You cover your face with your blanket, voice muffled beneath the soft fabric. “What’s your point then ?”
“My point,” Woojin sits straight up from his bed and yawns in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible. “is that you can still fall for Hyunjin even when he’s a CF-er, even when he likes someone else. Hyunjin is still Hyunjin. Cystic fibrosis or none, he’s still just Hyunjin. And you love him for who he is. Don’t ever forget that. And don’t get mad when things don’t work out because loving is hard, loving is painful. You just try your best not to get hurt. Every scar has a story and it represents how you’ve grown throughout time. So it doesn’t matter if you accidentally trip and make a fool of yourself. You simply like Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m not going against that.”
You unknowingly smile. The perks of having an older brother always come at the most unexpected time. You suddenly feel bad for all of those kids who grew up without siblings.
“So are you telling me not to be all sad and miserable ?”
Woojin nods absentmindedly. “Precisely. One day you might be strong enough to smile as you watch him intertwining his fingers with another woman’s. Give them your blessings, countless words will never be enough. What they want is your genuine honesty, how you’re truly happy for them. After that, take a different turn, or just move on as it is in silence. But do not let the memories that you made with him become meaningless because trust me, that hits harder. And that’s how you can love someone without being petty about it for the rest of your life.”
You say. “I think I can hold back my tears when Hyunjin’s getting married now.”
“But he needs to know first.” Woojin interrupts you abruptly.
You break out of your trance and ask. “Knows what ?”
“About your stupid feelings for him !” Woojin is quick enough to hold back the scream stuck inside his throat because if not, Chan’s gonna grill his ass so hard for making questionable noises in the middle of the night while his roommate is stressing over a song that’s yet to be complete. The double life between a college student and a SoundCloud rapper isn’t as hot as people tend to think. It just consists of a whole lot of cramming homework while trying to come up with a new batch of lyrics every two weeks.
“He deserves to know that. The sooner the better.”
Conveniently, your phone buzzes on your night stand.
[ 1:17a.m. ]
hyunjin | I’m gonna do it.
hyunjin | I’ll confess to her.
hyunjin | this is so terrifying what do I do ?
eight.
“Y/N wait up, you still have to take your medication !” Mark yells after your panicked figure dashing through the hallway while he’s pushing a cart with an awful amount of medicines piled up.
You shout back at him abruptly. “I’ll be back in an hour ! Don’t tell Jackson about this !” Whatever, you hate being on a drug trials anyway. Having multiple pills shoved down your throat each and everyday makes you sick to the core. It seems like you’re only getting closer to being buried six feet under the ground. But that’s not the point.
Point is, if you’re going to die sooner or later, there’s no way in hell you’d let your life end before you tell Hyunjin how you truly feel about him.
“Hyunjin, where exactly are you going ?” You manage to talk in between short breaths while having him on the other line.
He replies bluntly, uneven breathing and quick footsteps can be heard. “You know how everyone has their own youth, right ?” You keep running despite the fact that what he said just makes no sense. What on Earth is he planning on doing ?
“I also have a youth of my own.” He pauses for a while. “But it seems like… my youth is one to be forever reserved.”
You shake your head furiously, confused at what he’s trying to convey. “Hyunjin, I don’t get it. One moment you’re talking about how you’ll confess to the love of your life and now you’re telling me this ? Did something happen ?”
Hyunjin ignores your question and continues. “My parents would always urge each other to work harder, to make more money so that I can have a lung transplant and prolong my life day after day. But it’ll cost us five hundred thousand dollars, eight hundred even. So I was more than happy to tell them that I’m ready to stop walking on this beautiful flower path anytime. Then, I saw the heartbroken look in my mom’s eyes. That look, it’s— it’s haunting, and hurt me profoundingly.”
His breath hitches, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Knowing that he’s in such a vulnerable state but there’s nothing you can do about it hits so hard that you hate yourself. “There was a man who came up and met me in my hospital room one day, told me that he saw every single play that I’ve participated in. He wanted to sponsor me, to let me fully enjoy my own youth, to give me the money to fly to the States, to get a lung transplant, and lead me to stardom afterwards.”
“But..” He suddenly chuckles. “I have no desire to receive his generosity. Not even one bit. Now, before you start yelling at me, hear me out. I know that I’m selfish, I know that I’m being stubborn but the life that he’s talking about. That’s not the life that I’ve always dreamt of. The life that I wanted, is one where all of my family and friends, are eternally safe, and happy. That’s it, it’s as simple as that. Hence, I’m willing to give that chance to someone else. Someone who’s very special and close to my heart.”
Hyunjin lets out a muffled sob on the other line and you’ve never felt so helpless before. You just wish you could run to him, tell him that everything’s gonna be okay, and touch him. You don’t know how someone who’s so close can be so far away at the same time.
“Because.. well, because cystic fibrosis isn’t just leading me on a path that’s one step closer to death, but it’s also threatening the happiness of the girl I’ve unfortunately fallen for. Unfortunately, that is. She’s always been the biggest ‘what if’ because there were nights where insomnia would creep up on my spine, it was impossible to shut my eyes with her on my conscience. Because why me ? Why me ? I just need a little bit more time, just a little so that I can see her smile, so that I can hold her close, so that I can finally tell her how I really feel.”
“Time is a currency that you can only use, not make. And I’m already running low. Obviously, I can care less even if I die tomorrow. But as long as I’m alive, let me live as merrily as possible, as happily as possible, and to be able to see my loved ones as long as possible.”
Just then, it feels like the whole world just stops spinning when all you can hear is the sound of your shoes tapping against the ground, and him sobbing like a distressed child, raw deep down from the inside. You didn’t realize that you’re crying uncontrollably until salty drops of tears trickle down on your cheeks and drench the collar of your shirt. They blur your vision but you keep on running because Hyunjin needs you, he needs you now.
The icy grey sky is like a piece of fabric draped over the whole town. Dark clouds snuggle closer to each other as they hold in the heavy rain in their delicate forms. All of a sudden, rain pours over you with a roar, thunders grumble vigorously in the distance. The coldness of its touch pierces right through your skin and chills run down your spine beneath your clothes that are now soaking wet. Your footsteps never once falter and continue to move on down the slippery path.
“To love you as long as possible.” Hyunjin breathes out, as light as a feather. “Y/N, I hate to break it to you but I no longer want to be friends with you. Because I already love you too much to accept the label of being best friends.” He says with such determination and huffs. “With that being said, I’ll now consider the ring on my finger as a proposal. And to answer your question on my birthday, yes, I would love to walk with you on this path with the remaining time. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, to care for you, to be someone that you can lean on. So what do you say ? Are you ready to take my hand and my hand only ?”
“Yes, I am.” You stop once you’re right in front of the café that Jisung used to work in, where many unforgettable memories were made throughout time. And on the opposite side of the road, is Hyunjin. Your knees grow weak at the sight of him. Damp hair, teary eyes with a smile on his face. He’s absolutely ethereal and it’ll only take you a few more steps to get to him. “Hyunjin !” You wave at him, the balls of your feet automatically send you running towards his direction.
You feel like you’re hazing because everything’s all too good to be true. How he’s looking at you lovingly, how you’re yearning for his touch, how you’re so close to have him in your arms. Sadly, the sound of rubber tyres hissing against the concrete floor snaps you back to reality. Before you can even process anything, there are two lights ahead blinding your eyes. With a jolt, you realize that those lights belong to a car.
You didn’t know how it happened but the next thing you know is the feeling of the entire weight of your body is pinning you to the ground. Every single limb, every part, every organ inside your body feels like they are being crumbled like a piece of paper. Pain, there’s so much pain. The metallic taste of blood is soaking through your teeth, leaving you in that weird grey area between being awake and being unconscious. You can feel your flesh being torn open, your bones cracking, your lungs caving in for cramped air in silence. Silence, that scares you more than the blow itself. It feels like an eternity, just lying there, completely paralyzed as you wait for Death to arrive.
It seems as if the agonizing pain is the only thing that's keeping you alive.
“Y/N ! Y/N !” Hyunjin calls out to you helplessly as he cups the sides of your cheeks. Seconds later, you can feel his mouth against yours, giving you the amount of air that your lungs has been dying to have. “Y/N, stay with me, stay with me.” He mumbles against your ear before wrapping your arms around his neck to carry you on his back. Hyunjin is chasing time through the night, through the hellish downpour to not waste a single minute, a single second to keep you safe. Because he’s just so sick, so fucking sick of life for taking everything away from him. He’s not gonna lose you, not like this.
“Hyunjin,” You whisper weakly.
He shakes his head. “Don’t fucking die on me or I’m never gonna be able to forgive you.”
“Hyunjin, I’m kinda sleepy.” You laugh, tasting the coopery blood inside your mouth. “I’ll just take a nap, just for a while, okay ?” Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, you can’t tell whether he’s just being stubborn or he can’t hear you with the heavy rain down pouring onto him. But that doesn’t matter anymore because you’re far too exhausted to start arguing with him. Naturally, you’re going to allow yourself to black out either way.
nine.
Weeks later, you’re standing on the rooftop by yourself to run away from the stuffy air of the hospital, those floors and walls that all have an undertone of bleach. They suffocate you, everything does.
You watch the sunset at horizon, enjoying the majestic sight in front of you as if it’s the last thing you’ll ever witness. Rich hues of red, yellow, orange blend into one another gracefully, dancing in between the pink fluffy puffs of clouds. Your spirit soars into the distance as you inhale deeply, feeling refreshed after a long day. It does feel nice to not have all sorts of machines attached to your body like ropes that are tying you down into a single place and trapping you inside a tiny box.
Everyday, you’d sneak out of your room to come up here, and meet him again.
“Y/N,” You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of his voice echoing inside your ears. “By the time that you’re listening to this audio, I would probably, you know, be gone.”
A single tear silently roll down on your cheek. “But I’ll tell you what. I’m not scared of dying, because having the persistent information that I’m always one step closer to hell than everyone else has accidentally made me numb. I am terribly afraid of one thing though.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “I don’t want to be separated from my friends, my family, and from you. Moreover, I don’t want to see the people whom I love so devotedly suffer just because of me. I know what you’re doing, wipe those tears off your face right now. Chin up, and smile. Or you’ll end up complaining about your face getting puffy again.”
You laugh at his words, and attempt to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “Once I’m no longer walking on this flower path with you, that means a new chapter is ready to be open. I cannot thank you enough for bumping into me that day. And thank you for agreeing to practice my lines with me. I could have never played Captain Hook if it weren’t for you. And thank you, for the ring, it’s the most precious thing I've ever had on my hand. But I’ve figured… you deserve a new life. I know that five years doesn’t sound like much but maybe in those five years, things might change and there will finally be a cure for cystic fibrosis.”
“You might think, how could you possibly move on without me ? Well, think of me as a dandelion. Oddly charming, with a short life span. But I’ll never really go away because at the end of its life, a dandelion’s pistil will give birth to countless of seeds. Those seeds will be carried away by the wind and continue to grow, to breed, to multiply themselves for so many more purposes.”
Hyunjin suddenly starts crying quietly, you can hear how he’s trying to muffle his sobs and it makes your heart shatter into a million pieces. There’s absolutely nothing that you can do. “I’m very content with the life current that I have, or had. At least I’ll die knowing that I have no regrets.” He chuckles. “But there’s still something that I need to tell you, just in case. Not to be pessimistic, but just in case.”
“Y/N, I love you, more than anything in the whole wide world. It’s so frustrating because there were times where I wish I could just have you in my arms, to feel your warmth, to kiss you, to touch you. I don’t care about labels because that wouldn’t change my feelings for you. I’d still love you foolishly because I care too much. Too much that it hurts. I want to spend the little amount of remaining time with you. I even don’t know if you’re the one but I need you in my life. You and only you.”
His voice cracks. “...just don’t miss me too much, okay ?”
You can swear that it’s not hazing but if you look far enough, Hyunjin is still there, waving at you with a smile on his face.
Approximately six feet away.
#stayshub#stray kids ot9#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin fic#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin angst#stray kids fanfic#bang chan#kim woojin#seo changbin#lee minho#han jisung#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin
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so, i’m guessing i’m in for an “ugh, finally” from a follower or two. i’ve been busy, gone through some very personal stuff over the last couple of months that made writing a near-impossible task for me. thankfully, i’ve mostly made it through. so sorry for such a long wait, my dears. i hope y’all enjoy.
also, much love to @quellthefire for, well, pretty much everything over the past few weeks. she knows everything she’s done for me. it’s why i specifically waited for her to return from work to post this, lol.
i’m sure some people have changed usernames or had blogs deactivated, and if you have, please PM instead of replying so i can fix your url on the tag list! i know it’s taken me way too long to get this part out, and a lot has happened since last september. sorry to make y’all wait.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tag list: @loki-iwanttobeking, @strawberryparkers, @hoe4parker, @deliciousflapbanditfarm, @idontfeelsogoodmrspock, @srrnnrrs, @carttorchdeatth, @starkerhowlter, @starkeristhenameshippingismygame, @awesomeimportantfan, @itsjustmeowrooh, @starkravingspiders, @subverbaldreams, @this-starker-hoe, @moderndayqueenofscots, @prettyboy-parker, @sadbumblingmess, @winter-starker, @afreckledfairy, @lunakir, @parleroumourirr, @mintystarker, @starkerfics, @starkerprince, @mystarker, @aoifelaufeyson, @consciencecoward, @shinycreatoroafbonk, @themanandthespider, @jokesonme9000, @silkystark, @superpaperclip, @betteraskremus, @justallydavis, @marvel-shxt, @loki-helmet, @urfavisastarker, @haysend, @outlawbiscuits, @xmissemilyx-blog-blog, @silverloveless, @hereforagoodtimenotalong, @zoerayne2426, @kkomusume, @ardett, @seriouslystarker, @starkerprince, @shipperofalltheships, @morgoona-stark, @momobaby227, @idfuckanymarvelperson, @lltrashll, @richieleeparker, @haylove5, @katieb968, @xlace-babyx, @multi-fandom-fucker, @narutoyaoifan, @thatmarvelstan, @shinytoy, @allie-lyre, @country-cowgirl-101, @heyimstarker, @kiaorastarker, @nymeriasutcliff, @hoeforthegays, @ironspiidey, @annoyingcatto, @another-starker-hoe, @isomnelyswear, @starker-3000, @donttellanyoneitsmebabe, @peachbabytarte, @paintingbellarke, @pixiedragon99, @starterrrrrrrr, @pankade, @procrastinating-porcupine, @book-reviews-by-titch, @scared2death2live, @leatheronplaid, @untold-royalty, @kittycake574, @rk800puppy, @nerdylocksandthethreebears, @ikneelbeforemygod, @bipolarlatinx, @amazingness666, @fandombitchs-blog, @love-is-not-an-option, @starkerflowers, @theatrekidwithissues, @babygirl-barnes, @rebel13lion39, @cherrygoldlove, @casnovak88, @princess-parker, @blue-birb-blog
Warnings: peter is 19. anxiety attacks, mentions of a student/teacher relationship. nothing nsfw here. saving that for later ;)
—
Peter read the email over and over again, heart pounding like an uncontrollable jackhammer, and willed it to be fake. Some part of him hoped that maybe Flash had gotten ahold of Professor Stark’s email, gone through his computer, and sent it to throw Peter off. The things Flash had done and said to him back in high school, Peter wouldn’t count Flash out of doing something so… cruel.
Regret to inform you that your services as a teacher’s assistant will no longer be needed, the words said, each letter like a knife in Peter’s chest. Thank you for your interest in the position, but a more qualified candidate has been chosen to replace you. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this change causes...
He couldn’t bring himself to read the rest. His blood went cold, even as his heart pounded so hard he briefly thought it would jump out of his ribcage. This couldn’t be happening. He could just close his eyes and count to three, and everything would be fixed, right? Right?
Peter hastily clicked out of the window and began pacing his room. He chewed on a nail until it broke. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? He had already told May he had an announcement to make at dinner; she was expecting something good, if the way she was humming and singing to herself in the kitchen was anything to go by.
The last thing he needed to brag about was losing the position.
His fingers were moving across his keyboard before he could properly think. Pulling up the email again, sending Professor Stark a reply filled with apologies for anything and everything he had done wrong, and refreshing the page four times within the span of two minutes. Hopefully, Professor Stark wasn’t one of those teachers who didn’t respond to their emails.
Peter paced his room and refreshed the page until May’s voice finally floated in through his doorway, “Dinner’s ready, Pete! I don’t think I burned it this time.”
Peter’s heart jumped into his throat. He’d have to tell her.
The smell of definitely-burnt meatloaf clung to Peter’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen, a hazy, smokey fog hanging over the apartment. May stood at one of the windows in the living room and used a copy of The Daily Bugle to waft it out into the night. She brushed her dark hair out of her face with her free hand and offered him a weak, guilty smile.
“Okay, I lied. It’s a little charred. But I won’t be offended if you want to scrape off the black bits.”
Peter offered her a weak chuckle and went to set the table. He nervously ran his thumb over a chip in one of the plates while May abandoned her task of fanning out the smoke, but she left the window open. A gentle breeze and the smell of Queens at night joined them at the dinner table.
The meatloaf was dry and tough, but the vegetables she had cooked to go along with it were nearly perfect. She did tease him about how much salt he put over them before she took a sip of her water and cleared her throat. “So,” she started, and Peter didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “What was your big announcement? I’ve been dying all day, since you texted me at lunch.”
At lunch, I still had a job, he thought bitterly, buying some time for himself by chewing thoughtfully on a stalk of broccoli.
“Oh, yeah.” Peter swallowed and, wow, his tongue was ridiculously dry. Had he put too much salt on his food this time? No, he hadn’t, but he liked to think that it wasn’t his fear and anxiety making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. “It’s, um, it’s not—”
“Is everything okay?” May asked, and the concern in her voice made his chest ache. “I know finals are coming up. Are you doing okay in your classes? Do you need help? You know, we have that retired chemist upstairs; I’m sure she wouldn’t mind tutoring you if I baked her a pan of my walnut brownies. She was asking for some the other day.”
“No! No, I’m doing fine in my classes. My astrology teacher actually made me exempt from taking the exam because I have the highest grade in the class.” Peter’s teeth dug into his cheek. “May, it’s about the teaching assistant job.”
“The what?” May perked up, eyebrows rising to her hairline. “What job? When did you apply?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” May shook her head, food forgotten, completely entranced by Peter’s next words. “Oh, um, the teacher of one of the dual enrollment classes I took in high school was hiring a couple of assistants for next year. I applied for it.”
Her face lit up; Peter could see the excitement in her eyes. His stomach dropped even further as she leaned in with a grin.
“Did you get it? You got it, didn’t you? Wait, when did you even apply? Why didn't you tell me you were applying?” she asked. Each question came so quickly Peter didn’t have time to answer. She was practically vibrating in her seat.
Fuck.
What was he supposed to say to that?
“I, um, I did my first training for it today,” he offered.
It wasn’t a complete lie, not a lie at all, but it still didn’t feel right watching May cheer and jump from the table so forcefully that she knocked her chair over. She didn’t seem bothered about disturbing the neighbors with the noise. May rushed around the table and threw her arms around his shoulders. Her kiss to his cheek was met with no protest.
“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you! Did you enjoy it? Does it pay?” she asked, and quickly followed it up with: “Oh, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you enjoy it. And that it doesn’t get in the way of your school work.”
Peter just nodded as she kissed his cheek again and ruffled his hair. “We have to celebrate! Oh, I have moose tracks ice cream in the fridge! Bought it on a whim. What excellent timing, though!”
May didn’t seem to notice the strain in his smile as she placed a noisy kiss to his forehead and abandoned her half-eaten loaf for fetching the ice cream from the fridge. Peter let the smile drop from his face the moment she was back in the kitchen, twisting his fork on his plate, a piece of tough and overcooked meat speared on the end of it. His appetite, already struggling, made itself non-existent now.
He had to do something to save himself the embarrassment of owning up to May. He couldn’t disappoint her, not with how excited she was, and how she politely (and, almost embarrassed) asked him to assist with rent.
The cherry on top of his horrendous night was calling Tony, hoping maybe he could distract himself or ask for a fitting punishment, one of the ones Tony dolled out when Peter really wanted him to be mean. His first call was cut short, barely making it to the third ring before an automated voice told him his call couldn’t be completed.
He tried again, hands shaking, heart jumping into his throat, hoping the operator on the other end wouldn’t judge or laugh at his desperation. She was monotonous as ever, but that didn’t stop his mind from supplying every little possible laugh and mocking word she would have said once he was no longer within earshot.
Waiting for Tony to pick up his second call was even more nerve-racking than the first time, and the rejection hurt that much more. He didn’t bother listening to the message again, shutting his phone off and tossing it to the end of the bed.
Peter’s eyes stung and the back of his throat ached.
He pretended to be content when he forced himself under the covers, hiding his face as he went to sleep with damp cheeks.
—
Peter had spent his entire morning building up the courage to confront Professor Stark. He had barely managed to focus enough on his psychology professor’s lecture to take decent notes, couldn’t eat due to the anxious churn in his stomach making him sick, and had to calm himself down from the edge of not one, but two meltdowns in one of the bathrooms in the social sciences building.
He needed to do this. Not just for him, but for May, for both of them to be able to stay afloat.
The landlord just raised their rent. He couldn’t afford to be passed over for the position.
So he struggled with his focus on classes, managed to avoid setting another fire in a chemistry lab for the second time that semester, and somehow didn’t drive himself completely insane. His leg bounced like he had four springs embedded into his heel during the last twenty minutes of his biochem class before they were dismissed, and he was the first student out the door.
He had practiced what he was going to say, his arguments on why Professor Stark needed to keep him, planned to cover any lingering doubts in his abilities. Sure, he only took the 101 lecture, but he was a quick learner. He could still assist with other lectures, if given the chance to study them beforehand.
And catching the older man off guard in his office played well in his favor, until Professor Stark gestured to one of the chairs Peter stood between and told him plainly, “Sit down.”
His argument, his perfect defense of himself, was shattered. Peter blinked, mind still trying to catch up with the sudden halt of his thought process. “What?”
With a nod to a specific chair, Professor Stark continued, “Sit. You want me to tell you why I cut you loose, right?”
Peter practically threw himself into the chair, flubbing over his, Yes, Mr. Stark. This is what he needed, to know where he went wrong, know what he needed to improve on. If it meant going home with six of Stark’s textbooks or a bruised ego because of the man’s infamous harshness, Peter was fine with that. He could take a shot to his ego.
He expected a little criticism.
What he didn’t expect was Professor Stark to clear his throat, lean over his desk, and fix him with a smirk before saying, “Okay, kitten. I can do that.”
Peter’s brain grinded to a violent halt. The words registered. His brain still refused to process them.
His first thought, once he could actually think, was That’s inappropriate.
Peter’s face pinched together with a mix of confusion and distaste. He’d heard horror stories of college professors who wanted sex in exchange for perfect grades, or internships, or anything else a student might need to progress academically. Mainly, he’d heard stories from female students, not male students.
Maybe Professor Stark was one of those teachers, and Peter had given him a bargaining chip by confessing just how serious his situation was. There was no way Peter was going to sleep his way into the position. He valued his pride more than that.
Peter had already thought of running to his advisor and making a report of Stark’s coming onto him, when the voice ran through his head again. The words played on repeat, a familiarity clinging to his tone—
Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach.
Tony’s smirk deepened, but there was no pleasure in it. Mirthful, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his trimmed goatee with one of his hands. The other drummed on the arm of his chair as he waited for Peter to say something.
Peter’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth. Speaking was a struggle, but somehow he managed to work out a few words, “Oh, my god.”
Tony laughed. His Tony. He looked… less than happy to see him. “You gotta understand the kind of predicament I’m in, yeah? This whole thing we started isn’t, well, good for either of us now.”
Peter’s face burned; he was sure that Tony could see him turning red all the way down to his neck.
He wished he could focus. He wished he could nod along and agree with everything Tony was saying, but God, it was so difficult to do any of that when he was staring Tony right in the face. All of the faces, the bodies, everything he had fantasized about when they weren’t talked could never have lived up to the man sitting in front of him. Even the grays in his hair were different; they lined his temples, as expected, but there were strands strewn about in the hair he had so carefully styled up and back.
And his voice was just as distracting as it was through a phone speaker.
Peter needed water. Was the A/C in Tony’s office broken?
“Um. Yeah,” he said, still slowly processing Tony’s words. How had he managed to work for the man earlier without getting distracted? Sure, the man’s voice had sounded familiar when he first heard it, but hearing the confirmation that he was exactly Peter thought of when he was at home—
Home. Shit.
“But!” he started, nearly jumping from his seat. Tony started at his outburst, eyes wide and brows high on his forehead. “But, Dad- Um, Tony. Stark. Sir. Professor Stark, please, I need this position. I’ll do whatever you want me to if it means keeping it.”
“Dangerous words in our current situation, kiddo.”
Peter scoffed. “It’s not like anyone knows.”
Tony clicked his tongue and grimaced.
“Who?” Peter asked, the blush in his cheeks fading to white.
“Dr. Strange.”
“Shit.” Peter put his head in his hands, rubbing patterns into the back of his eyelids. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Not like he had Dr. Strange’s class the next day, or the following week until finals. How was he going to look the man in the eye now?
He shook his head; he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Tomorrow, at 10 AM.
“Is…” Peter paused. How would he word this? Slowly, he figured, as he started speaking again, “Is what we’re doing... Is that the reason you want to fire me?”
“Pretty much,” Tony answered with a nod. “There’s only so much tenure can save my ass from.”
Peter swallowed, pretended that the low dip in his stomach wasn’t there. Firing Peter to save himself. Suave, handsome, but an asshole. He sure knew how to pick them.
“So, let’s stop.” Tony’s brows rose again. “The whole, you know, phone thing. The relationship. Whatever you want to call it. I need the job more than I need, um, that.”
Silence. Tony stared at him, face now a blank slate, eyes boring into Peter. He wished he could tell what the older man was thinking, if for nothing but to ease his anxious, pounding heart. His face felt hotter still. He was pretty sure he was beginning to sweat. Tony should get his A/C checked.
God, Peter wished he would speak already. The silence and scrutiny were killing him.
Tony’s hand came up to his goatee again, rubbing at his stubble and covering his mouth in the meat of his palm.
“Sound logic,” he said. His hand dropped from his face with a shrug. There was another moment of silence as Tony chewed on his lip and seemed to ponder over Peter’s words. “You really want this job?”
Peter had to push his hair out of his eyes from nodding so vigorously. “Yes.”
Tony tapped his finger on his desk a few times. Peter half-considered leaping over it and demanding an answer.
“...Fine. It’s yours. On one condition.” Tony held a finger out to him. “You do not use this situation against me, in any capacity. I mean it, no extortion. I’ll fire you immediately.”
“Got it.” Peter nodded. He certainly wasn’t planning on it; it was the last thing he would ever tell anyone outside of their situation. He was dreading Strange’s next lecture. That was already exceeding the amount of people he wanted to know about them.
“Good. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Parker.”
Peter failed at hiding his grin, and he wanted nothing more than to reach across Tony’s— Professor Stark’s desk and throw his arms around his neck. The word Daddy almost slipped from his mouth again when saying his thanks. He caught himself, rushing out of the teacher’s office for his next class. He was already late, but he didn’t care.
He still had the job. At this moment, that was all that mattered to him.
—
Back in his office, Tony ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
God, he was so fucked.
#starker#ironspider#peter parker x tony stark#my work#phone sex au#god finally#it feels like it's been ages#the chapter count has gone up now ;)
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The Five Year Promise: Visit From a Sorcerer (4/10)
Summary: Y/N Stark, 20 year old superhero, makes a promise with a 16 year old Peter Parker after being cheated on, that if she hasn’t found love in the next 5 years, they’d finally go on a date. Then the snap happens. Y/N is gone and Peter isn’t
Warnings: swearing, a little bit of angst
Twitter// BuckysLemons
A/N: this chapter is really long. I might add an extra part and make it an eleven part series if the next chapter is also too long.
The Five Year Promise Masterlist
Based on Avengers: Infinity War (2018)
It was 12pm.
12pm and you were in a lab, working on your suit.
It was a complex equation that was your suit, and you were still trying to figure it out. Yes, after one year of almost dying, you were still trying to figure out the secret of your suit.
“Which is velocity squared...” you trailed off, talking to yourself as you scribbled down the numbers. You then stuck the pen in your mouth, thinking of what to add now.
“Maybe the coefficient of kinetic friction?” You spoke, finishing out the equation. You were about to see if the equation was viable before your dad came in, scaring the hell out of you.
“Happy Birthday to you!” He yelled obnoxiously, wearing a birthday hat and a shirt with your face on it. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear pumpkin! Happy birthday to you!”
You stared at your dad with a ‘what the hell’ look. Your dad looked at you with the same look, shaking his head.
“What? You want me to sing it in Spanish?” He had asked, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, before your ungrateful self looks at me like I’m an idiot, I have made reservation for us, Pepper, Peter and Samwell Oshdorn.”
You let out a little laugh, folding the piece of paper containing the equation and placing it in one of the desk draws. “Dad, ‘Samwell Oshdorn’ and I broke up last week.”
Your father straightened up at the news. He was happy. Of course he was. He hated the Osborn kid. His father always competed with him and his son was equally as annoying.
“You got want you wanted dad,” you spoke out quietly, playing with your fingers. “You got what everyone else wanted.”
Your dad face fell at your sad tone. Despite your Dad’s perception of him, he knew you were just blinded by love.
Taking off the birthday hat, he placed it on the table and walked over towards you.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he spoke out, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ll get there one day. You’ll find love. And also, sometimes I am stupid, and you won’t hear me say that again about myself so don’t take this for granted, but your feelings matter more to me than what I think about someone.”
“Dad,” your voice cracked, shaking your head as a tear escaped you eye. “I just- I just want to know what I did wrong. I don’t know what- he just.”
You stopped shaking your head as tears cascaded down your cheeks. Your father embraced you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“Sweet pea you did nothing wrong, okay. I might be a little biased, but I think you are the most smartest and beautiful young lady in the world. He’s just an idiot who didn’t know what he had until it was gone.”
You sniffed, letting out a chuckle, giving your dad the tightest squeeze you can manage. You moved away from the hug, wiping the tears from your face. “Thanks dad. I love you so much. Like a lot. Like 2000.”
“2000?” Your dad faked being hurt, grabbing his chest. “I’m at least a 3000. I mean I have a shirt printed with your face on it, I deserve bonus points.”
You laughed at your dad, shaking your head. You then looked away from him, biting your lip. “Can I tell you something else dad?”
“Shoot”
“I miss Nat and Wanda,” you spoke, your eyes welling up with tears again, but this time you didn’t let them fall. “I miss having them around. I miss- I miss venting to them. This is the secound time that I’m not celebrating my birthday with them and it’s harder than the first time.”
Your dad let out a sigh, crossing his arms as he looked away. “You know it’s hard hun. Cap and I-“
“I know Dad,” you spoke, looking at your fingernails. “But one way or another, we will need them to come back. You and I both know there’s something big coming.”
Your dad nodded, getting up for the chair before placing the birthday hat on your head. “Get dressed, we’re leaving soon.”
You nodded, annoyed at how he changed the subject while placing the birthday hat on the table. “Sure.”
Your dad walked towards the door before halting. He turned around, pulling a little box from his pocket. “This came in the mail for you today.”
He handed you the box, giving you a final look before leaving the room. You ripped the brown paper around it before opening the box.
Inside it was a charm bracelet and a little note that said:
Hey mini me,
They were selling these at a little shop near Wakanda and I thought it’d look good on you. Happy 21st Birthday and remember; when you drink in front of your dad, make sure it looks like your first time ;)
With Love,
Your big sister Nat
P.S Wanda says she loves you a lot
You smiled at the note, placing the charm bracelet around your wrist. It had a bead that you assumed was made out of vibranium and engraved on it was a baby panther with an adult version panther.
You placed the note back into the box before placing it in the draw.
-
“And then he told the terrorist his home address!” Pepper exclaimed, drinking a glass of water as she shook her head. “Terrorist! We almost died!”
Your father had rented out the whole reasturant so that you guys could get some privacy of the media. You were thankful, not wanting to get asked questions from the public about your relationship.
Pepper and Tony were sitting side by side, opposite you and Peter. Happy had tagged along, sitting where Harry would have been sitting. Peter had gotten an apple juice whereas you had gotten a cocktail.
This of course made Peter feel like a little kid, with him and Pepper being the only ones not drinking alcohol. But then he remembered the countdown on his watch.
‘I still have a chance,’ he thought in his head, playing with the straw of his apple juice. ‘Just need to make sure that neither of us find love.’
“I remember that,” you replied back, laughing as your dad put his head down in embarrassment. “He had shipped me off to the Avengers facility.”
“Excuse but I seem to recall it is Y/N’s Birthday,” your dad spoke out, titling his head to the side as he took a sip from his drink. “Meaning that we should talk about her most embarrassing moments, not mine.”
“I’m up for this!” Peter exclaimed, laughing as you gave him a look. “I’ll go first actually. It was when we had a mission to stop some drug lords in Colombia and Y/N-“
“Oh my god no,” you whispered, putting your hands over your face to cover your embarrassment.
“-And then she- she,” Peter couldn’t finish his words as he kept uncontrollably laugh. This of course had made Y/N laugh even more. “I l-“
“I sneezed!” You spoke laughing, as you smacked his arm, making his face turn red from the lack of air in his lungs. “I told you I sneezed!”
“But-But you didn’t!” Peter kept on laughing, shaking his head at you whilst pointing a finger. “The man grabbed you- and you- you-“
He went on a fit of laughter once again as you were already gone. Your laughs were silent and your stomach was pounding. “I- I did not fart!”
This comment made Peter fall on the ground from his chair, holding his stomach as he continued to laugh. You got up from your seat, bending down to smack his shoulder.
“Shut up!” You told him, tears running down your face as you kept laughing. “In the name of Pablo Escobar I demand you to shut up!”
Pepper, Tony and Happy watched on, smiling at the both of you.
“They’d make a great couple,” Happy spoke, looking towards Tony who smiled down at both of you.
“Yeah,” Tony replied, shaking his head as you guys kept on laughing. “Just give it time.”
-
“Pepper,” you spoke, as you girls walked behind Tony, Happy and Peter who were in a deep conversation about nanotechnology and Peter’s Aunt.
“Yeah,” she hummed, holding her purse as you all took a stroll along a park. The birds chirped and it was a perfect day, not a single cloud on site yet a cool breeze was present.
The park was simple, surrounded by oak trees, benches and a backdrop of the city buildings. There were couples and singles jogging around, but not many on sight.
“I have a question,” you stated, pushing your hair behind your ear. Your cute little white French dress with frills was being blown back by the cool wind. “You didn’t have alcohol today. You had water.”
Pepper smirked at you, looking down at the pathway. Sometimes it amazed her how observant you were, sometimes the opposite of your father. “What are you implying little missy?”
You smiled at her, looping your arm around hers. “So it’s true isn’t it?”
“Yes it is,” Pepper nodded at you, instinctively grabbing her stomach even though there was no bump present yet. “I was planning to tell Tony later tonight.”
“Pepper, I’m happy you’re going to be my stepmom,” you revealed to her. She squeezed your hand in gratitude.
“And I’m glad to have you as my step daughter,” she replied back, giving you a warm smile. “Just a couple of more months, and you get to be a bridesmaid.”
You smiled, so happy your father had finally found love and was soon getting a secound child with his future wife. “What names were you thinking of?”
“I was thinking about Patience,” Pepper spoke, nodding to herself before looking at Tony who was a good 3 meters away from you guys. “Because being with Tony required lots of it.”
You giggled at her remark, making Peter look back at you. You smiled at him which he had returned before continuing his conversation with Tony and Happy.
“How about Morgan,” you told Pepper. “Like after that dude who does the voice over on Nat Geo. It’s a nice name.”
“That,” Pepper pondered, her face scrunched up in thought. “Is not the most horrible name that I’ve heard.”
The boys in front of you suddenly halted, looking back at you guys to make sure you caught up.
“Do you girlies want ice cream?” Tony had asked you both. You walked up next to Peter, nodding your head at your dad.
“I wouldn’t mind some ice cream.”
“Good, there’s a gelato shop a few blocks down that are still open we can-“ Tony stopped mid-sentence as a yellow-glowlike circle appeared in the middle of the path.
You pressed the button on your necklace, allowing nanoparticles to start spreading around your body and form your white suit. You were always prepared to fight the unknown.
Suddenly a 40 year old man came out of the portal that was formed, donning a red cape and a blue long formal shirt.
“Tony Stark and Y/N Stark,” the man announced, his facial expression remaining unchanged. “I'm Doctor Stephen Strange. I need you to come with me. Oh, uh, congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”
All five of you were understandingly shocked, looking at him like he grew multiple heads. This guy had come out of nowhere and requested you and your father’s presence.
“I'm sorry, you giving out tickets or something?” Your father spoke in his usual sarcastic manner.
“We need your help,” Stephen Strange spoke, looking at your father, you and Peter. “Look, it's not overselling to say that the fate of the universe is at stake.”
Your heart stopped when you heard those last words. You still had PSTD from Sokovia and New York, similarly to your father. You didn’t want another fate-of-the-world battle, although your anxiety always told you there was much worse than what you’ve been through.
“And who's "we"?” You had asked, crossing your arms. Your eyes suddenly widened as the man you always thought of as an uncle, emerges from the portal. A man you haven’t seen since Sokovia, which was three years ago.
“Hey Tony,” Bruce spoke, holding a blanket around himself as he emerged from behind the sorcessor.
“Bruce,” your father had gasped as he watched him walk over in disbelief. Bruce gave an awkward smile, as he pulled the blanket closer to his body.
“Pepper,” Bruce had greeted her too before looking at you. “Hey little rascal. Look at you all grown up.”
“Hi,” you and Pepper replied simultaneously, not believing your eyes. And why would you? This man was gone for three years. You guys thought you’d never see him again.
“You okay?” Tony asks, but Bruce gives Tony a desperate hug, not answering.
You knew something was up. Something was wrong with Bruce to have him shaken up like that, like he’d seen the devil himself.
Your hand instinctively reached Peter’s hand, scared to find out what had the fate of the universe in stake.
You then looked at Peter, your eyes still wide, pupils dilated in fear.
“You better suit up too.”
-
“At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing, then boom,” Wong had explained as you all listened intently, watching the visual representation. “The big bang sent six elemental crystals hurtling across the virgin universe. These Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence."
“Space, Reality, Power, Soul, Mind,” Dr Strange listed as each stone glowed. Your eyes watched in fascination has he opened his necklace to reveal a stone emitting an emerald light. “And Time.”
You looked at your father to figure out his game plan. He looked at the demonstration intensively before speaking. “Tell me his name again.”
“Thanos,” Bruce spoke out, getting up from his seat and staring your dad dead in the eye. “He's a plague, Tony. He invades planets. He takes what he wants. He wipes out half the population. He sent Loki. The attack on New York. That's him.”
“This is it,” your father whispered to himself, as he rubbed his chin.
“Um Mr Dr. Strange,” Peter’s voice wavered as he lifted his arm up. Stephen gave him a nod, indicating him to continue. “What exactly is our timeline? Like today? Tomorrow? B-because we have a birthday to celebrate.”
“No telling,” Bruce looked at Peter, shaking his head as he gripped his blanket. “He has the Power and Space Stones, that already makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe. If he gets his hands on all six Stones, guys.”
“He can destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of,” Dr Strange finished him. You shivered at those words as goosebumps appeared on your skin.
This is it. This is what you and your father have been prophesying for 6 years.
Your father leans against a cauldron, stretching like he's about to go for a run. “Did you seriously just say "hitherto undreamt of"?”
Dr. Stephen Strange looked at your father in ridiculousness as he kept stretching. “Are you seriously leaning on the Cauldron of the Cosmos?”
“Is that what this is?” Your father had spoke before Dr Strange’s cloak suddenly moved and smaked your father’s arm making him jump back.
“I'm going to allow that,” your father glared at Stephen, straightning up his jacket.
“Look this seems really dangerous and it’s getting out of hand,” you spoke, gathering all the men’s attention. “Maybe we should call the police.”
Your father snorted at that comment but the sorceress looked at you like you were an idiot. “Wha-“
“Or maybe the Avengers, idk,” you cut him off. You were stressed, and like your father, you made jokes when you were stressed.
Peter knew this so he decided to join along so you weren’t alone. “Or stick his stone in the garbage disposal.”
“Do you think if we auctioned it on Ebay, thanos will bid for it?” You turned to look at Peter. “Can you imagine him betting like 100 gold pieces. Or like paying with slaves-“
“We swore an oath to protect the Time Stone,” Wong interrupted you both like you had offended him. Which you probably did. “With our lives.”
“And I swore off dairy, but then, Ben & Jerry's named a flavor after me, so,” your dad replied back, giving both the men a shrug.
“Quince Quasar is the best,” you shot back.
“Whatever,” Your father replied before looking back at the man in a cloak. “Point is, things change.”
“Our oath to protect the Time Stone cannot change,” the doctor had urged your father, looking at you too in seriousness. “This Stone may be the best chance we have against Thanos.”
“And still conversely, it may also be his best chance against us,” you spoke back, now standing up from your seat. “We are bringing what Thanos wants right under his nose. To me, that sounds fairly stupid.”
“Okay, guys, could we table this discussion right now?” Bruce had interrupted you guys. “The fact is that we have this Stone. We know where it is. Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind Stone, and we have to find him now.”
“Yeah, that's the thing,” your father groaned out awkwardly. “He’s offline. We don’t know where he is right now.”
“Who could find Vision, then?” Stephen had asked.
“Shit,” your father whispered to himself, pushing his hair back. “Probably Steve Rogers.”
The doctor sighed in discontent, shaking his head frustration. “Oh, great.”
“Call him,” Bruce spoke out innocently making you sigh before you took your seat with Peter.
You smiled at him before leaning on his shoulder and tuning out the rest of the conversation.
“I hope this is a false alarm,” you told Peter. “Because frankly I’m scared of dying and also, we don’t have the rest of the Avengers so we’re screwed.”
You then looked at his watch.
1818 days and 3 hours
“I still have a lot to live for,” you then replied, closing your eyes. “I want to graduate MIT. Buy my first house that isn’t in the Avengers compound. Have 6 kids and name them after the infinity stones.”
You snorted at the last part, wanting to slap yourself for being so annoying.
“Hey,” Peter spoke, watching as your father spoke to the Bruce and the two sorceress. “You will. Except the last part. That last part is where you sort of went downhill.”
“Shut up web man.”
“Say, Doc,” your father had spoke, making you look at him. “You wouldn't happen to be moving your hair, would you?”
Dr. Strange looked up at his forelock fluttering in confusion. “Not at the moment, no.”
You looked up at the Hulk-made opening through the ceiling and see debris flying by outside. You then get up and walk near the door, seeing people running and screaming.
You open the door, your father and Peter following you close behind. A women runs into you as you stop her from falling. “You okay?”
The woman ignores you and runs away. The wind his blowing your hair everywhere and you are struggling to see through the debris that you almost miss the car hurdling towards you.
Peter, with his instincts, quickly webs the car into the wall before it hits you. You look at him, giving him a grateful smile that he returns.
Your father the puts on his sunglasses as you and Peter stood by his side, awaiting his intructions. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., what am I looking at?”
“Not sure, I'm working on it.”
Your father then faces Dr Strange. “Hey! You might wanna put that Time Stone in your back pocket, Doc!”
Dr. Strange moves his hands and now bands of spells were readied around his forearms. “Might wanna use it.”
A mechanical hum grows louder as you, Bruce, your dad and Strange approach the intersection with Wong following behind. As you turn around the corner, you see a huge circular ship floating over Bleecker Street.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., evac anyone south of 43rd Street, notify first responders,” you spoke as you readied up, your suit emitting a golden glow. “Make sure they set a perimeter 6 blocks from this area.”
“Will do.”
Doctor Strange throws some kind of spell that forms a strong wind over Bleeker Street before winking at your father who was begrudgingly amused for a split second.
The dust cleared and suddenly two aliens, one large and one small wearing a robe, exited the ship by what seemed to be a transmat.
The two aliens seemed emotionless and threatening as they spoke.
“Hear me, and rejoice. You are about to die at the hands of the Children of Thanos. Be thankful, that your meaningless lives are now contributing to-“
“I'm sorry, Earth is closed today,” your father cut him off, echoing his usual sarcastic self. “You better pack it up and get outta here.”
“Stone keeper,” the alien spoke, looking at Doctor Strange. He then gestures to your father. “Does this chattering animal speak for you?”
“Certainly not. I speak for myself,” Dr Strange spoke, as he hit his wrists together and formed a magicial shield before stepping forward. “But you’re trespassing in this city and on this planet.”
Wong copied his actions and formed shields around his fists. Peter got in an attack stance, placing a mask on his face whilst your suit begun emitting quantum energy more profoundly that your hair was floating up.
“It means get lost, Squidward!” Tony yelled at him. You saw your father’s fists clench and his whole body tense up.
Your father did not want a fight, you know that. He, just like you, wanted to continue your day without a worry in the world.
The alien looked displeased and stood his ground arrogantly. “You all exhaust me.”
He then turned to his bigger friend, lifting an arm up. “Bring me the Stone.”
The alien lets out three untranslated syllables. He drops his huge alien hammer and drags it along as he obeys his brethren.
“Banner, you want a piece?” Your father had asked Bruce.
“Cool!” Peter spoke excitedly, getting up from his fighting position. “We get to see the hulk?”
“When do I ever get what I want?” Bruce muttered to himself as he took a step forward. Bruce attempts to release the Hulk. Instead of Hulk coming out easily, the most that turns green is Bruce's neck. It almost looks painful to watch.
“Been a while,” your father had replied patiently, watching as the alien neared. “Good to have you back buddy.”
“I just-“ Banner stopped, trying to get himself to hulk out. “I need to concentrate here for one second. Come on, come on, man.”
“Are you okay Bruce?” You had asked him, walking over to him to rub his shoulder. “Because at this rate your more likely to shit yourself then hulk out and we don’t need that right now.”
“Me and Hulk are having a thing.”
“There’s no time for a thing!”
“Don’t you think I know!”
“Uh guys,” Peter spoke, pointing at the alien who was now running towards you guys. “I don’t think we have time for the Hulk to show up fashionably late.”
Bruce gives out a loud grunt, but fails to release the Hulk once again. Doctor Strange stares at your dad and Bruce in disbelief, making your dad face Bruce. “Dude, you're embarrassing me in front of the wizards.”
As the giant alien approaches the team, your father dons his nanotech Iron Man suit in the space of three steps. He grows a shield on one arm to protect himself, then grows a set of blasters that easily throw the giant back to his master who gestures and deflects his massive companion into some cars.
“Where'd that come from?” Bruce had asked excitedly. Your father smirked at him, showing off his suit.
“It's nano-tech. You like it? A little someth-“
Before your father finished his sentence, the alien creates a spike of earth that throws your father far up.
You feel anger bubbling within you as you clench your fist. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You fly over to him, your whole body emmitting a yellow bright light as you pulled your fist up, ready to punch him before Maw, the alien, lifts up his hand, throwing a car at you.
Before it hits you, your father returns and joins the fight, pushing a car thrown by Maw back at him. Maw cuts it in half and lets the pieces fly past him, untouched.
While he’s cutting the car in half, you let out a quantum blast, knocking him to the end of the street.
Your father looked at Stephen, his face now serious. “Gotta get that stone outta here, now.”
“It stays with me.”
“Exactly. Bye. Y/N, come with me,” your dad speaks before flying off.
“No. You, Strange and Wong fight off the beast and take Bruce with you,” you replied back in the comms. “Peter and I have got Voldemort.”
“Okay little miss bossy.”
You nod at Peter as Strange and Wong open a portal where both of them and Bruce disappear into.
“Just like we practiced,” you told Peter, as you saw Maw get up, dusting his attire. Peter nodded up at you, getting in position.
He shot an electric web at you, powering up your suit, before you shot a surge of quantum energy at Maw, blinding him.
You had five secound to attack Maw before the temporary blindness from the light would fade away. This had to be quick or else you’d both be at a disadvantage.
Peter grabbed you by the waist and webbed the surface of a building. He then swung over to Maw who was currently rubbing his eyes, letting out an incoherent sentence.
Peter made one final big swing before letting go of your waist. You swung your fist back, flying down with full speed as quantum energy surged throughout your body.
You punched Maw with full power, forcing him 3 meters down the earth’s surface. Peter then webbed you back up before throwing a timed-web bomb down the hole.
You breathed in heavily as Peter swung back to your side. “Don’t get too excited, he’s an alien. They usually need more than just a big hit to stay down.”
And just as you predicted, Maw surged out of the floor, using a piece of the road to levitate. “Let’s try this again shall we.”
Maw lifted up a finger, causing a massive rock to hurdle towards you. Peter quickly picked you up once again, and webbed you up into a balcony before the car would hit you.
“You sure do hate cars.”
Maw looked at you both angrily, getting sick of you guys. You gave him a little smirk before flying off the balcony and towards his direction.
You shot quantum blasts at him. While he was distracted trying to not get hit, you took a sneaky shot near the building next to him.
You got out of the way as the building started following towards him. But it was too slow. Maw had caught it his telekinetic powers, his arms up as he let out a groan.
Peter took this as an opportunity to swing down and kick him in the stomach but before he did, Maw quickly released the building and bended metal scraps around his wrists and ankles to the wall.
“I can’t move!” Peter spoke, trying to break free from the grips of the metal but failing to do so. What kind of power did this alien possess to have him stuck like this with metal scraps, he had thought.
“Can’t spiders shoot webs from their ass?” You yelled over to him while fighting maw at the same time. You moved your head to the side, narrowingly missing the pipe he threw towards your head.
“No I can’t!” Peter yelled back, not believing what you just said to him. “I’m not an actual spider!”
“So you’re a fraud,” you told him as you shot at Maw which he kept deflecting with various metallic items. “You’re Fraudelent man.”
“No I’m not!”
Maw moved both his hands up, now two flying cars surging towards you from either side. Before you could react, Dr Strange appeared, creating a portal behind you so that the cars wouldn’t go through you.
He then went over to Maw fighting him whilst you ran up to Peter. You drew your wrist back. “Close your eyes.”
Peter obliged and closed his eyes as you sent a blast at his wrists and ankle, setting him free. “There you go.”
“Well that was fun,” Peter had muttered to himself. “I thought today was just going to be lunch before we go back to the avengers compound to sing happy birthday, but apparently no.”
You see your father fly past you and over to Dr Strange who was being taken by the alien. It seemed like Dr Strange was unconscious and that Maw was taking him and the stone with him.
“Shit,” you whispered before looking at Peter. “We have to stop that alien from getting the stone.”
Peter nodded, rubbing his wrists before following you and your dad to where Strange was being teloported.
Peter webbed your foot as you flew up to the spaceship. You struggled to fly due to the turbulence that Peter caused from being webbed up to your foot.
“Pete, you’re making it really hard to fly!”
“I’m sorry if I want to save the world with you guys but don’t have wings!”
You put a little more effort to flying up, nearing closer and closer to the space ship. You felt the edge of the spaceship in your fingertips before quickly picking yourself up and holding on to the spaceship.
“I-I can’t breathe!” Peter gasped as his eyes was closing and opening his eyes. He ripped off the web from your foot and held onto the spaceship tightly instead.
“Unlock 17-A,” you heard your father speak to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You knew what 17A was. It was the suit your dad spent all night working on.
“Pete you gotta let go!” You spoke to him as you held onto the space ship yourself, feeling the wind pushing your hair around.
Peter didn’t want to let go. He was scared of heights. But he was forced to let go after losing consciousness.
Peter started free-falling, but not for long before the pod reaches him. It attaches itself to him, becoming the Iron Spider suit.
Now being able to breathe, Peter lands on a bottom part of the ship, standing up heroically. You smile at him, watching as he looked at the suit in surprise.
“Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!” He yelled over to your father.
“Happy trails, kid.” Your father had replied before speaking to his suit. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, send him home.”
A large parachute extends from the new suit, snatching Peter free of the ship's hull and him spiraling back to Earth. “Oh come on!”
“You should go home too,” your father told you as he latches onto the hull and cuts a hole to board the ship, looking for wherever Strange and Ebony Maw went.
“Well I’m not,” you spoke back in defiance as you too looked for where the surgeon had been taken to. “We’re in this together!”
“If you don’t turn around right now I swear to Thor that I will-“
“Boss, incoming call from Miss Potts,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, making your dad sigh before answering. You walked a little further, trying to give him some privacy and also find Strange.
You ran your fingertips along the walls that were made out of steel, with multiple pipes running along. The lack of insulation in the ship was making you cold.
It also didn’t help that you were in outer space, where temperatures were even colder. You put your arms around yourself, determined to heat your body back up.
The ship however, was quiet. Eerily quiet. And this ship had looked like it was going in a coordinated location due to the lack of motion.
You were walking around, trying not to make a sound.
And that’s when you felt it.
A sickening feeling in your stomach that told you one thing.
This was a one-way trip and some of you weren’t coming back.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#tom holland#tom holland x reader#spiderman#spider-man#spiderman x reader#spider-man x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#captain america#captain america x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#thor#thor x reader#loki#loki x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#black widow#black widow x reader#avengers#avengers endgame#mcu#marvel#avengers x reader
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Hey lis Bae could you write a cute irondad one shot where Tony is focusing over Morgan and ignores Peter and baby Peter becomes jealous and eventually has his first ever rebellion against Tony and pepper. PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WITH CHEERRYYYY ON TOP 😩😭❤️
Thank you so much for the prompt, darling! (I made Peter a little older and please excuses most of this because I wrote it half asleep and on pain meds)
This is pretty long so here’s the ao3 link
Peter is sitting up in his bed, gently running his fingers through his stuffed bear’s fur. When Tony and Pepper first gave it to him after his adoption, the fur had been neat and smooth, but now after years of Peter cuddling it and dragging his fingers through the fur, it’s thick and matted. But Peter couldn’t care less. Just touching the bear brings him an enormous amount of comfort.
In the other room, Peter can hear his dad saying goodnight to Morgan, “I love you, Morgan.” Tony’s voice is soft.
“I love you 3000,” Morgan says sleepily.
“Goodnight, peanut.”
Tony’s footsteps echo down the hallway towards Peter’s door. Peter expects him to stop, to come in and say goodnight, tell him he loves him, but the footsteps just continue down the hallway to his parents’ bedroom.
He doesn’t know why he expects it. Tony hasn’t said goodnight to him in months. Not since Morgan began demanding more and more of him at bedtime.
Peter curls onto his side away from the door, clutching his stuffed bear close to his chest. His parents don’t have time for him anymore. Not since Morgan was born. And Peter understands, she’s a baby and she needs more attention. Besides, Peter knew this was going to happen. He’s not Pepper and Tony’s biological child, not like Morgan. So it follows that once they had a real kid of their own Peter would become an afterthought.
Peter’s fourteen, he can take care of himself. But he wants his parents back. He wants things to go back to what they were before Morgan came along. But Peter loves Morgan. He loves his baby sister unconditionally.
But it can’t fill the aching in his stomach that his parents don’t love him anymore. Peter curls his legs up to his chest and clenches his hands into fists. Maybe he’d be better off somewhere else. He could go stay with his uncle instead.
He could be with someone who really loves him and would have time for Peter. Someone who wouldn’t forget about Peter’s AcaDeca meets and apologize through a four-word text. His uncle loves him even if his parents don’t.
The next morning Peter wakes up more tired than he started. A quick glance at the clock shows him that it’s almost nine o’clock. With a groan, Peter forces himself out of bed.
Peter wanders down the stairs to the smell of breakfast. He knows it’s well past the time they all eat together, but normally if he sleeps in his parents will put his plate in the microwave. He pads across the wooden floor and pops open the microwave.
It’s empty.
Peter sighs and walks into the living room where His parents sit with Morgan watching some cartoons. Morgan is on Pepper’s lap, playing with her mother’s fingers. Tony is almost nodding off against the arm of the couch, but he keeps his eyes focused on the screen.
“Is there any breakfast for me?” Peter asks without preamble.
Tony even has the decency to look upset, “No, sorry, kid. We didn’t know when you’d be up.”
“It’s fine,” Peter says quickly as he turns around and walks back in the kitchen. It is fine, he convinces himself. He’s old enough to make his own breakfast. He quickly pulls the eggs from the fridge and gets about making his own breakfast.
Peter eats alone on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t want to go into the living room just to see his parents-
Morgan’s parents fuss over her every need.
By the time Peter has cleaned his dishes, Pepper has left for work and Tony has headed to the shop. Maybe this is his chance to spend time with his dad for once. So Peter takes the elevator down to the shop and opens the door. His dad is hunched over his work, Morgan sitting in his lap playing with one of her toys.
“Dad?” Peter asks, hovering in the door of the shop. “Can I help you in here today?”
Tony sighs, “I’m sorry, Pete, but I have to take care of Morgan in here since Pep’s working. I can’t risk being distracted and her getting hurt.”
“It’s fine,” Peter says. “I have stuff to do anyway.”
Tony sighs, “Maybe tomorrow?”
Peter nods but he knows it won’t happen. He hasn’t worked in the shop with his dad in months.
Peter spends the rest of the day locked in his room, eating a quick lunch. He works on a school project, but his mind always wanders back to his parents. Do they really not love him?
The more Peter thinks about it the more instances he comes up with where Morgan’s needs have always been put before his, even when it wasn’t necessary. Maybe this is Tony and Pepper’s way of silently pushing him out of their family.
Peter doesn’t come down for dinner and neither of his parents comes up to get him, only furthering the sinking feeling in his stomach.
So Peter stuffs a bag full of his clothes and as soon as his parents are distracted with Morgan after dinner, he ducks into the elevator and orders it down to the ground. From there he hails a taxi and tells the driver his uncle’s address. His heart is pounding the whole way, waiting for his parents to call his phone and ask where he is. They don’t. Within twenty minutes, Peter is standing in front of his favorite uncle’s door.
After three knocks, the door cracks open, revealing his Uncle Rhodey wearing a concerned frown, “Peter? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
Peter shakes his head, looking at his feet, “Can-can I stay here tonight?”
“Of course,” Rhodey steps aside and wraps an arm around Peter as he leads him to the couch. “Did something happen with your parents? Do they know you’re here?”
Peter shakes his head.
Peter has always loved his uncle’s apartment. It’s the perfect mix of comfort and familiarity. On the back of the couch is a worn quilt that Rhodey used to use to make Peter a fort in the living room, all of his mugs are chipped and stained, and it’s homey. It’s just what Peter needs right now.
Peter drops his bag by his feet as he sits on the couch and turns to his uncle with sad eyes. Rhodey rubs his back, “What’s going on?”
Peter takes a shaky breath, “I don’t think mom and dad want me anymore.”
Rhodey’s eyes bulge, “What? Peter, your parents love you.”
“No they don’t,” Peter shakes his head. “They hardly ever spend time with me anymore. And I know Morgan is still a baby and she needs their attention but it really hurts when they don’t say goodnight to me or they come to my events anymore. I can’t remember the last time they said they loved me,” Peter cries.
“Oh, Peter,” Rhodey pulls Peter into a tight hug, just as protective and caring as when Peter was a child. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
Peter shakes his head, “I don’t think so. I’m not really their kid so it makes sense that once they got one of their own there wouldn’t be room for me and they’d want to get rid of me-”
“Stop that, Peter,” Rhodey squeezes him tighter. “Your parents love you more than anything.” He pushes Peter back, holding him at arm’s length. “On the day they signed your adoption papers your dad came to me in tears saying that he was going to ruin your life and that he was going to ruin you.”
“Uncle Rhodey-”
“Let me finish first,” he squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “I told him that he was going to make a hundred thousand mistakes with you. But as long as he held you tight and loved you fiercely he would be a wonderful parent. And I think he forgot that. So what’s going to happen is that you’re going to get some sleep and in the morning your parents will be here and talk everything out as a family. I promise everything will be alright. Do you trust me?”
Peter nods.
“Good.” Rhodey squeezes his shoulder. “I’m going to grab you a blanket and some pillows so you can camp out here for the night.”
“Thanks, Uncle Rhodey,” Peter smiles at him.
Rhodey shares the sentiment and walks to the closet, coming back a few minutes later with heaps of blankets that he tosses on top of his nephew. Peter laughs lightly and it’s like music to Rhodey. He hates seeing Peter so broken-hearted.
“Have a good sleep, kid,” Rhodey says gently as he tucks a pillow under Peter’s head.
“Goodnight, Uncle Rhodey,” Peter whispers.
Peter lays his head down on the pillow and slowly sinks into a deep sleep.
The first thing he hears when he wakes up is crying. He keeps his eyes tight shut, “How could we do this to him?” Pepper cries. “How did we not notice?”
“We fucked up,” Tony says simply. “And now we have to get our son back.” There’s a shuffle. “Thank you for taking care of our son, honey bear.”
“Of course, Tones. I love that kid.”
“We all do.”
“Do you think he’s awake yet?” Pepper asks, sniffing.
“Let’s check.”
Peter hears people walk back into the living room and two people approach him.
“Peter? Baby? Are you awake?” Tony’s hand strokes through Peter’s curls.
Groggily, Peter pretends to wake up, “Dad?”
“I’m here, bambino.”
Peter opens his eyes to find Tony sitting on the coffee table, leaning over to touch his head. Pepper is sitting on the couch by his feet, dabbing away her tears with a tissue. And Rhodey is standing in the doorway, turning away when he sees Peter is up.
“Why are you here?” Peter asks even though he already knows the answer. He sits up and curls into the corner of the sofa, forcing Tony’s hand to fall between them.
“Rhodey called us, sweetheart,” Pepper moves closer so she is sitting beside Tony. “He said that you were safe with him and that we should come by in the morning to work everything out.” She squeezes his foot, “Why did you run away, baby? Do you really think we don’t love you anymore?”
“Yeah,” Peter whispers, looking at his knees. “I just don’t really feel like part of this family anymore. You guys always spend so much time with Morgan-”
“She’s barely two, Peter,” Tony says quickly. “She needs attention.”
“And what about me, dad?” Peter bites. “Don’t I need attention too? When was the last time we worked together in your workshop? When was the last time you chose to come to my decathlon meets instead of babysitting Morgan? When was the last time you said goodnight to me? When was the last time you told me you loved me? Because I sure as hell don’t remember. But the sad thing is I understand. I understand that Morgan is your biological child. And who am I? Just some kid you found and made your son. I’m nobody.” By the time he’s finished both of his parents are crying and Peter finds tears falling from his own eyes.
“Peter,” Tony breathes. A second later, Tony and Pepper both wrap him in a crushing hug, holding him as tight as they can. “I love you so much, bambino. I’m sorry we made you feel like that. I am so so sorry. I’ll do better, I swear to you I will do better.”
“We both will,” Pepper corrects. “I love you so very much, Petey,” Pepper says, using a nickname she hasn’t called him in years. “To the moon and back again.”
And things get better. Tony makes a strong effort to spend at least one hour alone with Peter, watching a movie, working in the lab, helping with homework, anything. Some days Pepper and Tony hire one of his aunts or uncles to watch Morgan while they take a day trip together. But Peter’s favorite moments are when both of his parents squish themselves onto his bed, give him long hugs, and tell him how much they love him before kissing his head and wishing him a good night.
But when it really solidifies in Peter’s mind that his parents love him is when he accepts his first-place trophy for the science fair and the first people jumping to their feet, screaming, are his parents.
Peter beams.
…
Send me prompts!
#my fic#peter parker#tony stark#morgan stark#pepper potts#spiderman#iron man#spiderson#irondad#spiderson fic#irondad fic#irondad and spiderson
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Steo Week 2020, Day 6
Title: Subject 24
Prompt: Experimentation
Rating: General
Warning: Major Character Death
WC: 1057, (was aiming for 3000+ but life is just gonna be like ‘nah man, nah,’)
You can also read it on my AO3
Summary:
Subject 24, an anomaly, an extraordinary anomaly.
~
“What are his vitals?”
“Normal, Heart rate, Breathing levels, Brain activity, Blood Pressure. Nothing is out of the ordinary, sir,”
“Very well, doctor, take him to his cell,”
Two guards hold the slightly conscious boy by the arms and take him to his cell. They uncuff him in the cell and leave him be.
“So, how was it today?” Theo asked after he woke up.
“If you’re expecting a different answer from every other day, I’m sorry to disappoint, but it was just like any other day,” Stiles said, sitting up, “well, Reilly paid me a visit today, though.”
“Huh, what did he want?” Theo said, sitting down next to Stiles.
“Nothing, I only heard him ask for my vitals, maybe he’s planning something?” he answered.
Two knocks sound at the door, startling Stiles, a guard opens the small latch of the door and pushes a tray of food in.
“Breakfast time, Subject 24,” They said.
Stiles quickly takes the tray and places it on his table, he pulls the chair out and sits down to eat, he is starving. Today’s course, two eggs and ham sandwiches, an apple, and water. Despite being held in a cell and used as a lab rat, Stiles is pretty satisfied with the variety of nutrition he gets in his diet. He finishes his tray and walks up to the door. He knocks on it and waits for the guard to open the small opening. He opens it and Stiles pokes the tray through.
“Can I have one more egg and ham sandwich, please?” he asks the guard.
“Fine, here you go,” he said, slipping in an egg and ham sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap through the opening.
“Thanks, Joseph,” he thanks the guard and they close the opening.
“And here is your breakfast,” Stiles said, throwing the sandwich at Theo.
Theo unwraps the sandwich and begins eating it. Stiles sits back down at the desk and watches Theo gobble up the sandwich. Theo throws the plastic wrap in the dustbin and sits down on the bed.
“Could you tell me about the time you went to the lake with your family?” Stiles asked Theo.
“Sure, so, it was the last few months I spent with my mother. Before she got really sick. We went to the lake early in the morning and my dad would teach me how to catch fish with just a net and bare hands.” Theo recalled, “well, it was a fun morning, we had brunch in a picnic, pancakes, and sandwiches-”
Theo was interrupted by an alarm going off, a lockdown alarm. Stiles quickly scampered to the corner of the room and crouched down, covering his ears.
“St- Stiles, it’s okay, maybe they are just checking the alarms,” Theo said, sitting down close to Stiles.
Four really loud bangs resembling gunshots sound from the other side of the door and then, silence. Someone slowly starts unlocking the cell door and Stiles could only cower in absolute fear and distress.
“Subject 24 is safe, checking other cells,” the guard said to the radio.
Another one steps inside and cuffs Stiles and moves him out of the room, leaving Theo behind.
“H-How about Theo?” Stiles asks.
“Shut up and move,” the guard said, roughly pushing Stiles.
“No, I’m not going-” he stared at the guard- “not without Theo.”
The guard grabs Stiles by the forearm and forces him out of the holding unit. As he is being taken to who knows where the intruder shoots down the guard. Stiles horrified that he might get shot, falls to his knees and puts his cuffed hands up in the air.
The intruder comes up to him and uncovers his face, it was Theo.
“Theo?” Stiles gasped.
“C’mon, let’s get you outta here,” Theo said, helping Stiles up.
As Theo was about to unlock the handcuffs, someone shoots from behind. Someone shot Theo. Theo falls onto Stiles’ and Stiles screams.
He sits down and puts Theo’s head on his lap, caressing his hair.
“Stiles, you have to know that I love you,” Theo said, his voice laced with pain.
“Theo, please, you can’t die like this!” Stiles said.
He holds Theo as he calls for help.
“No, Stiles, it’s okay,” Theo said his last words.
“No, it’s not, Theo, it’s not, don’t leave me, please!” Stiles sobbed.
Theo closes his eyes and Stiles knows that he won’t open them. He hugs Theo’s body, crying furiously as he had lost the only person he loved, he cherished, and had many memories with.
Suddenly, Stiles felt dizzy, flashing lights in his eyes, and a loud unrecognizable sound blocks out everything else. He felt like his head was going to explode.
“Subject 24,” A voice said, a very recognizable voice, “he’s one of the labs most valuable, extraordinary specimen,”
“Who is this ‘Theo’ he talks to? There’s no one else in the room,” Another voice spoke.
“It’s what you would call, imagination, he made a person all in his head, with his past memories, we don’t know how he knows about them, since all subjects go through clear trials to make them forget about their past lives,”
“He seems to have gotten attached to them,”
“Indeed, and that is how we study him, stimulating scenes in his head, his brain activity phenomenally different when stimulated,”
“What is subject 24’s anomaly?”
“He is one of a kind, dangerous if handled wrong, he has an intuitive aptitude, enhanced memory, and most baffling of all, he has an advanced form of telekinesis,”
“Mind elaborating, doctor?”
“Subject 24 has the ability to instantly learn and understand the complexity and exactness of organisms, objects, etc. without the need of long-term or special education, thus intuitive aptitude, he can also remember and recall experiences and events inhumanly well, from the years we have been studying, he can easily recall dialogue that we cease to remember,”
“What about the telekinesis? How is he different from the other subjects?”
“Other subjects can move and hold objects and people, Subject 24 has the ability to cause widespread destruction, if he fell into the wrong hands, or if he were to know himself, that is why we continue to suppress that information and make sure he does not find out,”
Stiles jolted awake, he was in his cell. But this time, he was alone.
~
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