#lmao I had fish just before answering this ironically. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisyful-gvf · 1 year

Text

roommates // by daisyful

18+

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pairings: jake x reader

word count: 5k

tags: sex toys, roommates!au, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pwp basically, pet names because i can’t help myself, dirty talking

notes: i never thought i’d write this many fics with a vibrator involved, but here we are lmao. This happened bc of this post . minimally edited.

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“You’re fucking kidding me”

Of course, today of all days, the batteries would die. You huff out a few more curses and remove the lifeless vibrator from between your legs, throwing it on the bed beside you.

For a moment you lay there and frown, wondering if this is a sign you should just go to bed. Today had tested you far too frequently, and you couldn’t deal with much more. The thought of trying to get off any other way after you’d been so close with the toy seemed not worth the hassle.

Then, your brain throws you a hail mary: there’s batteries in the kitchen drawer. Perfect.

You tug on a pair of cotton underwear and smooth out your oversized t-shirt. It settles at the tops of your thighs, and you figure that’s decent enough for a run to the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning.

Your body carries you to the kitchen through the darkness, only broken by the light of the TV your roommate must have left on.

It causes you to roll your eyes—an old western is playing. You never had the pallet for them, even in an ironic sense. But Jake—your roommate of about a year now—loved them, for some reasons he had droned on about before when you expressed your disinterest.

You go straight for the drawer by the fridge, full of scissors and charging cords and pennies and mail, fishing around for the AA batteries.

“Whatcha need?”

“Fuck!” Your chest pounds as you clutch dramatically at your shirt, whirling around to see the source of the voice.

Jake blinks at you, eyebrows raised in amusement. He lays on the couch, in his plaid pajama pants and t shirt, feet covered by a throw blanket.

“You up to something sneaky? Why so jumpy?” He grins.

“Fuck off,” you roll your eyes, “It’s dark, I didn’t see you,” you grumble.

“Jesus,” he laughs, “Bad day?”

You just nod, rummaging again through the drawer for the batteries.

“You need help?” He asks, his voice getting closer as he walks into the kitchen.

“Where are our batteries?” You murmur, closing that drawer and trying the next.

He ‘hmm’s for a second, and then answers, “Why the hell do you need batteries at 2am? You building something?”

“Yes, a robot,” you deadpan, “Mind your business. Do you know where they are?”

“Damn, what’s wrong?” you can hear the smile in his voice and you finally look up at him, growing impatient.

“Do you know where they are or not?”

He looks you over, seemingly trying to understand the situation, and then, you realize that you’re in only your shirt and underwear. You can see him swallow and avert his eyes to the cabinet as he seems to realize the same.

“I think so,” he says softly, “Hang on.”

He fetches a shoe box from the hallway closet and brings it back to the kitchen, plopping it on the counter. There’s various tools and nails and command hooks, and then, alas, he pulls out a small container of AA batteries. Gently, he puts them in your hand.

“There,” he says softly, “You good?”

You nod and mutter a soft thank you before making a quick escape, looking forward to no longer being in front of him in your underwear.

You know it’s no big deal, and that you two have gotten comfortable. But there’s this tension, sometimes. Mostly like this, at night, sometimes intoxicated. Where the stares between you two linger a bit too long, and your mind begins to wonder. You always push it down, because it’s not a good idea, and you know that. And when the light of day comes around, you’re always relieved that things feel normal again.

So that’s what you do; push it aside. Back to the matter at hand: you latch your bedroom door behind you and head straight for the vibrator, popping it’s plastic plate off and fishing out the old batteries. And then you realize. They’re the wrong size.

You take a shaking breath, irritated and tired. Without thinking, you throw it back on the bed and walk back out into the living room, where Jake has cozied up on the couch.

“Do we have triple A?” You ask flatly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you. His eyes land on your bare thighs again, then flick back up quickly to your gaze.

“Triple A? Batteries?”

“Honey, what is this for?” He mumbles, getting off the couch again to help.

“It’s nothing,” you huff out, beginning to go through the shoebox again.

“Gotta tell me if you want help,” he smirks. You look up and he’s got a cocky hand on his hip, standing a couple of feet away. His hair is messy in the dim blue light, and he looks amused with himself.

No longer in possession of any patience to make up a story or fight off his questioning, you answer.

“My vibrator.”

His lips part in gentle shock, and the cocky expression leaves his face at once.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “You just had to know, huh?”

You laugh, because he looks so shy and unlike himself all the sudden. Possibly delirious from the late hour, he laughs too.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. You can see him blushing even in the low light.

“It’s fine,” you rush out, “I’ve just had a bad day, I’m just—” you give up looking through the box, rubbing a hand over your face, “I’m just frustrated. And I just needed—nevermind,” you shake your head, “It’s dead, I just need the batteries.”

He nods and pulls the shoebox closer to him on the counter, picking through the nails and thumbtacks and tape.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Honey,” he says quietly, “But I don’t think we have any.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I’m gonna go to bed,” you pad a few steps away from him, “Goodnight. This didn’t happen,” you point a finger at him.

He salutes you and grins, headed back to the couch. Shoving your embarrassment down, you head to your room again and prepare for sleep. You can’t be bothered to mess with it again.

You’re just picking up the vibrator and putting the back piece back on when there’s a soft knock at the door.

Tucking the toy behind your back, you crack it open to reveal none other than Jake.

“Um,” he holds up the TV remote, “This has triple A batteries,” he says softly.

You look between the remote and him, a furious blush making its way across your face that he would care so much as to come tell you.

“Oh,” you say, eloquence evading you.

He passes it towards you and you open the door further, taking it from him in your open hand. You other stays tucked behind your back, hiding the toy in a way that feels very scandalous.

“Don’t you need this?” You ask, “You’re watching TV.”

He shrugs, “Not as bad as you do, apparently,” he grins and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, but, seriously, I’m probably gonna go to bed.”

You nod slowly, “Okay. Um,” you swallow. You should feel more nervous than you do. More embarrassed. There’s a bit of it, sure, but not much. It feels oddly comfortable. “Thank you.” You murmur.

He nods, and then licks his lip. You stare, because it seems to be almost in slow motion, and his bottom lip is left glossy. Here it is again: the tension. So easy to form in the late hours of the night.

“Mmhm,” he acknowledges your gratitude and he takes a breath, like he’s about to speak, but then his lips shut. He does it again, like he’s working up to saying it.

“Do you wanna make sure they work?” He asks, “Cause I can—if not, I can check my room, or something, um,” his hand grips the doorway and his fingers fidget with the wood. He’s doing a terrible job of acting casual about it, but you find it endearing.

“Sure,” you murmur, “Um,” you fumble with the toy behind your back, “Here, hang on.”

You turn around, just enough that he might not be able to plainly see it in your hand as you mess with it. But you can’t pop open the remote and the toy with both things in your hand, you realize quickly.

“Here,” he says gently, pushing your door open and touching you on the shoulder. He comes around to your side and takes the remote from your hand.

You watch him as he does, and while he looks a little bashful, you appreciate him not acknowledging what’s in your other hand.

With daft fingers, he removes the batteries from the remote as you take them out of the vibrator. You toss the old ones on your bed, and let him place the new ones in your palm. When you click them into place, the toy immediately buzzes to life.

“Oh—shit—“ you breathe, fumbling quickly to turn off the toy. You look at him in a panic, and mutter a soft, “Sorry. Thank you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything. He’s got an odd expression, and you think twice before asking, but then you can’t help it.

“What?” you ask.

“Uh,” he chuckles, “I don’t—um,” he runs his hand through his hair and looks back and forth between you and the vibrator, “Nothing.”

He doesn’t move, though. Doesn’t walk to the door, even a little bit.

“Jake,” you sigh, “What is it?”

“I just—“ he starts, and then he nibbles on his bottom lip again, “I probably…shouldn’t…”

You raise your brows at him, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.

“I just—“ he clears his throat, “If—if you had a hard day and you need…I mean, if you need to get off and—and if you just need, y’know, if you don’t wanna have to do a lot of work, I mean, if you’ve had a hard day—“

“Jake,” you giggle at his nonsense, “What?”

He collects himself with a breath, “I can help,” he says finally, “If you’d want that.”

“Help?” Your mouth goes dry at the thought that he’s saying what you think he is.

He nods, “Help. Just this once. Forget about it tomorrow, act like it never happened, all that good stuff, y’know.”

You know you’re standing there with a ridiculous expression on your face, but you can’t help it. You’re stunned.

“Oh,” you finally manage.

He just looks at you, perhaps scared to say anything else.

“You can say no,” he gives you the out, “Or you can say yes. It’s up to you.”

You note how quickly your thighs clench together at the thought, and how your cheeks heat. It’s undeniable that the offer sounds nice. Your day did suck, it would be nice to not have to think about it, just have someone else do the work. Especially someone as attractive as him, who you feel safe with, who you know would take care of you.

“Hm, Honey?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t even have to touch you, I can just use the toy, but maybe—“

“Sure,” you surprise yourself with the answer.

“Yeah?” He trails the back of his knuckles over your jaw, “Sound nice?”

A shaky breath leaves you as his fingers graze softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “And really,” he licks his lips, “We’ll forget all about it tomorrow. S’just a favor.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“Wanna lay down?” His voice is lower, gentle still, but almost gravelly.

You nod and sit near the top of your bed, watching him intently as he pushes the remote aside and touches your ankle softly. There’s nothing but the soft whir of the fan for a moment as he looks up at you. Suddenly, he looks so much like himself. So familiar. It puts you at ease, and he must see it.

He traces his palm up from your ankle to the inside of your thigh, where he touches softly.

“That okay?” He murmurs. When you nod, he settles more, laying on his stomach between your ankles.

His palms are large and warm over your thighs, where they work to help you relax through broad sweeps over your skin. The only light is from the salt lamp on your dresser, so he glows soft orange.

You can feel the tension unwind as he sweeps his palm again and presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Can I have that?” he smiles as he nods toward your hand, still clutched around the vibrator.

Quietly, you pass the slender silicone wand to him. He takes it in his large hand and flips it, the side with the button in his palm. He skims it down the inside of your thigh, warming you up to the touch. It steals your breath.

“Relax,” he soothes, kissing your thigh again, “Just me.”

You nod, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“Help slide these off for me?” He nudges the hem of your shirt up on your hip and tugs at one side of your underwear.

Doing as he asks, you slip fingers under the other side and with him, you drag them down and off your ankles.

He tosses them to the floor and comes back to you, skirting the toy up your thigh again, closer and closer. He’s looking up at you for a moment, and you hold the eye contact and your breath, but then finally he spares a glance to your center.

His breath shudders from him and his eyes close momentarily. When they open, for the first time you see him turned on. You can’t pinpoint what it is in his demeanor, but it’s undeniable. It lights a fire in your belly so quickly you wonder why you didn’t do this ages ago.

“Honey…” he sighs, then a groan sounds from the back of his throat, “I don’t wanna keep you waiting, is that okay? Or you wanna go slow?”

“No,” you answer quickly, “Don’t have to go slow.”

He nods and hits the button on the toy, sending it buzzing to life. You can just barely hear the sharp intake of breath from him.

A bit too slow, even, for your liking, he drags the toy up your thigh again, before finally letting the it rest over your clit. You try not to cry out, instead biting down on your lip hard, and pushing your hips up into the touch.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says calmly, “You don’t need to be quiet. Helps me know better what to do if you’re not quiet.”

“Oka—” it’s cut off with a groan as he nestles it more firmly against you.

“Feel good?” He asks, voice still low. You nod frantically, “You can—“ you sigh, a bit scared to say it. Too turned on to think much more, you just do, “You can touch me, if you want.”

He looks up at you quickly, and oh, his eyelids are heavy with lust.

“Yeah?” he says, as if he’s not sure he’s heard you right.

“Mmhm,” you nod, “Please.”

“Fuck,” it rushes out of him, “Yeah, Honey.”

He moves the vibrator aside for a moment, letting it rest just to the side of you. He removes the hand that was holding your thigh and licks the pad of his thumb before he brings it to you, greeting your clit with slow circles. The touch burns a trail through your body, immediately heating your face and chest.

“Jake,” the way you say his name is nearing pathetic.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost in pain, his voice is tight.

“More,” you shudder.

“How—Jesus Christ“ he clears his throat, “Do you wanna tell me how you like it, or you just want me to—“

“Just—,” you feel frantic, like your skin is too hot, and you don’t know what you need. You reach for him, and your hand lands in the crown of his hair, “Please, something—I—”

“Okay,” he soothes, “Okay.”

Slowly still, he moves the toy down and eases against the slick of your entrance, and when you push your hips into it, he takes it as permission to ease it into you.

“Fuck,” you bite out.

“Good?” he checks in, kissing your leg.

“Yeah,” you gasp.

“Good,” he murmurs, and then he’s settling down, pressing kisses further and further along your inner thigh, until finally, he meets your clit in a gentle kiss.

“Jake,” you groan, loud, “Ohmygod.”

He hums against you, and then before you can even catch your breath, he licks a full stripe, stealing whatever sanity you could have possibly had left.

“Don’t stop,” you know you’re whining but you can’t help it, not even a bit. He licks and sucks slowly, letting the buzz from the toy and the warmth from his mouth carry you to your end. Your hand stays buried in his hair at the roots, where you try not to squeeze it too hard.

It’s almost humorous, that earlier you were trying so desperately to get off, and now that it's a hair’s width away, you wish you weren’t so close. You don’t want the sweet warmth of his tongue to leave. Sadly, you don’t have a choice.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, so he can back off if he wants, but he just groans into you, and keeps his motions steady.

You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way your thighs tense around him. You’re pretty sure you almost pass out for a moment, as your vision goes all white when your eyes roll back. After it passes, and you can take a deep gasp of air again, he’s coming up for air.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “Fuck.”

You blink a few times so you can finally see him in the dim light again. He slides the vibrator from you and clicks it off, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Almost like he can’t help it, he gets up on his knees and grips the length of himself through the pajamas, his eyes rolling back and his lips falling open.

His eyes snap open to meet yours, and his hand falls away.

“Sorry,” he sighs quickly, “Sorry, I—“ he shakes his head, at a loss.

“It’s okay,” your chest heaves as you recover still from the orgasm.

You try to read him, to know where to go with this. Do you thank him? Do you offer to return the favor? That wasn’t part of this, though, maybe—

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes meet his in some fiery standoff.

“What?”

He licks his lips, “Can I make you cum again?”

When you’re still silent for a moment, he adds, “Please?”

The groan that comes from you is much too loud and enthusiastic, and before you know it you’re reaching for him.

“Come here,” you plead, and he obliges, slotting with you and hovering over you, meeting you in a warm kiss.

“Fuck,” he says against your mouth, “I promise we can still forget about this tomorrow, if you want—“

“Shut up,” you smile, kissing him harder. He groans back and snakes a hand between your legs, where suddenly he’s nudging two fingers against you.

“Is—“

“Yes,” You answer before he can ask.

You gasp when they sink in, warm and full, so much better than the stupid vibrator.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says against your cheek, as he’s nipping and licking a trail down your face, “I would—“ he swallows, you can hear it close to your ear, “I would fucking love to be inside you.”

“Oh my god,” it rushes out of you without thought, “Please.”

He groans, but pulls back.

“Are you sure—“

“Yes, Jake,”

“No, Honey, listen to me,” he holds your jaw in his hand, “We can still just pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow if you want, but please think about it for a second. I’m alright with it. Are you?”

You take a deep breath, and yeah, even when you think about it, even when it’s him, you want it. And you know he’d never hold it against you.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yes.”

His lips curl into a wide grin, and then he’s back against your mouth, matching your fervor with his warm tongue. His fingers work still inside you, curling perfectly over and over.

You want him so badly all at once you can barely stand it, and without a second thought, it comes out of you:

“Can I ride you?”

His fingers halt and he groans so loud you almost wonder if he’s hurt, his head falls to your shoulder. Quickly, he collects himself, pulling his head up to look at you. He’s disheveled, and it’s hot. His hair is everywhere, his lips are swollen.

“As hot as that is, no, babe, this is still about you. Don’t want you to have to do any of the work.”

You’re trying to respond, but the way he said babe rings around in your head deafeningly loud.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he kisses your cheek, “I promise.”

Numb from the pleasure, you nod as he withdraws his fingers. He smiles as he slips off the bed and tugs his shirt over his head. You follow his form, tugging your shirt over yours. His eyes slow for a moment over your chest, and you both take each other in.

You’ve seen him shirtless, as he cooks breakfast, or when he comes home from a jog. You know he has soft sides, a defined chest, and wonderfully strong shoulders. It still makes you speechless.

Even more, when he tugs the string of his pajama pants loose and eases them gently down his hips, letting them fall to the floor, you can’t find words. The curve from his hips to his waist makes your mouth open in an intrigued shock. And god, the thick length of himself that he takes quickly into his hand is enough to stun you forever. You’re shocked you can find words to answer him when he asks,

“You want this?”

It’s low and sultry as he palms himself. His head is cocked just to the side, making dazed eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I—can I touch you?”

He bites on his bottom lip and nods, stepping closer to the side of the bed so that he’s within reach. Timidly, you reach up to take him into your hand. His hand moves, allowing it, and as your fingers wrap around him, your thighs clench. He releases a slow, shaky breath when you stroke him.

He’s warm, and thicker than at first glance. You can’t resist a peek up at his face as you move your hand slowly over him. His eyes are locked onto your hand, his lips parted in a sigh.

“Feels nice,” he thrusts experimentally into your grip, and his eyes roll back, “Your hand is so soft.”

You can’t help but giggle at that, and his eyes flit to your face. He chuckles too, pushing into your hand again.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “You ready?”

Nodding quickly, you greet him on the bed by sliding your legs back open, letting him kneel between them.

“Slide down a bit, babe,” he says quietly, touching your hip with delicate fingers.

You lay flat on the bed, letting him lean over you and prop himself up with his forearm by your head.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hey there,” you giggle.

“Gonna kiss you again,” he murmurs as he leans in, his plush lips meeting yours in a lovely embrace. As you’re busy licking at his tongue, he rolls his hips against you, and you’re gasping at the warmth of him sliding against your clit.

“Shit,” he gasps into your mouth, “You’re gonna soak me, Honey. You always this wet, or am I doing that good a job?”

“I refuse to inflate your ego even more this evening,” you smile into the kiss.

“Understandable,” he’s smiling too, “I hope you can tell by how fucking hard I am that you’re doing something to me, too,” he grinds fully into you again and you’re whimpering as he licks at your lower lip.

“Jake,” you whine.

“Tell me, Honey, what is it?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

“Mmm,” he hums as his lips press to your cheek, “Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember the bad day you had, or anything else.”

If you say anything coherent, you can’t recall. It’s mostly a desperate groan, begging without words.

He reaches down and eases himself in, and you force your eyes open to watch his expression as he does. His mouth gapes, his eyes roll back. You wish you could watch it a million times.

And god, he’s warm as he stretches you, as his hips roll flush to you. He’s just big enough that it approaches a mild sting, but it’s welcomed. He props his other forearm on the other side of your head, and his hair falls around you, blanketing you in his body heat.

Just when you’re sure his hips are flush to you, he rolls them hard, sending your eyes back into your head.

“You like that, hm?” He shudders, “You feel so damn good.”

You just nod, struggling to keep your eyes open to look at him.

“Baby,” he says, sugar sweet, “Just take it, Honey, you don’t have to do anything else.”

He pulls his hips back and then rolls back into you, and suddenly that sneaking warmth is building in you again.

With his nose, he nuzzles your head to the side. As he begins to work at a slow, deep pace, he sucks gently on your pulse point. Your head is all blurry stars, your eyes rolling back far too often to see anything, and all you can smell is his shampoo and sweat.

You’re not sure if you’re making noise; you don’t think so, it feels like you can barely breathe. But then, Jake says,

“I know, babe, I know, let go.”

And you’re guessing you’ve said something to clue him into the fact that you’re on the precipice of a second orgasm.

With a sturdy roll of his hips, you’re scratching at the soft skin of his sides and drawing a whimper from as you clench around him like a vice, slamming into a somehow even more visceral orgasm than the first.

As it washes over you, you can hear yourself saying his name like a mantra.

“So good,” he’s still fucking slowly into you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you whine, “Please, Jake, don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he kisses your cheek, “Gonna give it to you til you’re a cock-drunk mess, Honey, don’t worry.”

You shudder off a string of curses at his vulgar response, and you draw him even closer, one hand on his side, and the other wrapping into his hair. He resumes sucking on the side of your neck, something that makes your stomach flutter. He bottoms out over and over at a wonderous pace, somehow each thrust just as good as the last.

“You like this? Slow and deep?” He murmurs the question against your skin and punctuates the question with a lick.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“You wanna cum around me again?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, “Yeah, fucking—please,”

“Take your time, Honey,” he breathes, “I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna fuck and fuck you.”

“Kiss me,” you plead. He answers you quickly, his warm mouth on yours in an instant, warm and fervent. It’s embarrassingly quick, how soon you feel like you can cum again. But you can’t find the shame; he’s working himself perfectly against you.

“Close,” you confess against his lips.

“Good,” his voice is distant, “Let me have it.”

It hits you slow and unhurried, creeping hot vines up your torso and neck, gripping at your cheeks and burning a bolt of pleasure through you. You’re a floating, dizzy version of yourself when you come down.

“Fucking beautiful,” he’s sighing, “Gonna cum, Honey, you feel too good.”

He pulls out and balances on one of his arms as he shoves a hand down around himself. He looks the most beautiful that he ever has, in your opinion, as he cums.

His cheeks are flushed and his brow furrows, and his bitten lips curse softly when he loses it. For a moment he glances down between you, watching as he makes a mess.

You could watch it on repeat forever, and almost lament the moment before it passes.

Finally, he looks up at you. It’s quiet for a second before he grins.

“Hi, Honey,” he smiled wide.

“Hi,” you giggle. He unsticks a piece of his hair from your face as he catches his breath.

“Gonna kiss you again if that’s alright,” he sighs. You nod quickly, and he’s kissing you soft and slow. It’s so tender, you know you probably shouldn’t want it as bad as you do.

He must be on the same page, though, because he just kisses and kisses, licking slowly at your tongue and your teeth.

Some long while later, he comes up for air.

“Let me get my shirt for you,” he says, easing himself off the bed.

He fetches his discarded tee and cleans you with it gently, then wipes himself quickly before he climbs back beside you.

“So,” he breathes, reaching out to skim a finger over your chest, “Why was your day so bad, hm?”

“Jake,” you laugh. You can’t fathom why he’s asking you this right now, and you can’t recall a single thing that happened before the moment he was in your bed.

“What?”

“Tell me about your day. What was it, hm? That got you so frustrated you had to make yourself cum so bad,” he smirks.

“Jake, Jesus Christ,” you blush, “I have no idea anymore, it was just—“

“So it worked?”

You blink at him.

“I fucked you ‘til you forgot?”

If he was trying to make you laugh, it works, as the giggle that escapes you is borderline maniacal. He joins though, laughing lightheartedly beside you.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “Dumb joke.”

As the giggling winds down, the room is quiet. The thought pops into your head with conviction, and it feels only right to say it aloud:

“You know… I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t forget this tomorrow,” you offer quietly.

He sighs and smiles at you, his eyes sparkly. He looks like himself; like the Jake you know, but closer, and warmer than before.

“I was kinda hoping you would say that.”

fin.

*tag list in progress of being updated*

#gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fics #greta van smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader

1K notes · View notes

playtwewy · 1 year

Note

If you would please: 2, 10, 20, 26, and 28 for the man, the bitch, the legend: Joshua Kiryu (I worked so hard to shorten this down to 5 lmao)

YAYYYY MORE JOSHUA!!!! and no problem my guy i would have answered every single question on that list if you asked me to. i never shut up when prompted <3

2. When I think I truly started to like them?

probably second or third day of week two. i knew he was a murderer i knew everything was his fault already but i couldn't help it. he was so funny and i began to enjoy his quips and his causing problems on purpose. this was literally me:

10. Describe the character in one sentence

girl who is god in her own fucked up way

20. A weird headcanon

its for sure the fish girl in me projecting, but Joshua loves fish. It's started out as just an aesthetic due to the underwater environment in the dead god's pad, but it later evolved from just being ironic to full on he starts keeping actual tanks and gets heavily interested in aquascaping :)

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

such an interesting question. there's a post ive seen before. I think it was about analyzing different joshua sprites if i remember it correctly. because there's that scene, the second time him and neku visit mr. h together, where Joshua explains his side of his backstory and we see one of his more serious sprites that isn't used any other time i dont think. That's the closest to me. But i think it can be argued that joshua is never really "himself" whenever we see him any time in twewy.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet? (this is the one i picked <3)

i had this really really self indulgent persona 5 and twewy crossover fic that will probably stay in my brain forever but it heavily relied on Joshua interacting with the protag and also Akechi from that game so those two are my answers <3

#thank you so much <33 #asks

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strawberry-nugget · 3 years

Text

Oddly specific bnha headcanons

Characters: Deku, Bakugo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Jirou, All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, Dabi

A/N: I'm finally back from my mini hiatus and I finally finished a part of my never ending cursed head canons and I also hit a new milestone so I feel like you all deserve this attempt of mine at comedy for the love I've been getting...I'm also sorry, this is a wild ride, and as you're reading you might wonder why did I make these? And the answer is, simply, because I can 😭, no lol though true... I'm soft so if these made you laugh and you leave an LMAO comment I'll think about it forever uwu. I've talked about most of these with my dear friend @aichiin, who is an amazing artist whom should support in all platforms uwu bye

Warnings: some of this content is NSFW, 18+, so if you're under 18 DO NOT INTERACT

Disclaimer: everyone is at least of 18 years of age

• I can't explain why, and we've seen Endeavor texting shoto in canon but... I feel like probably his texts look like this: …..shoto why aren't you Answering your phone…

….tell fuyumi to make you soba… .

… ……are you still friends with that rude boy from school..

…I don't want any take out dont get any for me tell natsuo that I'm sorry and try to ask him if he's changed his mind about forgiving me.…

• All might opens a Facebook account a month before the beloved class graduates as his way to keep on touch with everyone after they're off to fight crime and lives his life as the ultimate Facebook mom and thinks he's texting people but apparently posting on your Facebook wall isn't texting. He has probably made a thousand posts asking midoriya how it works until people just, they just, accept it, I guess, there's nothing else they can do. He uses the Facebook mom tulip emoji and writes in all cap. Give him credit for being so sweet tho.

And probably it goes like this: "💞🥰🌷🤣WHAT AN AMAZING SUNDAY. GOOD MORNING YOUNG MIDORIYA HOW HAVE YOU BEEN" Ofc he will not hesitate to use all these emojis unironically, in fact, he doesn't know that is the ironic use of an emoji, leave him alone

(Comments on the post most probably go like this: Bakugo: I EXIST TOO YOU OLD HAG, FUCK YOU DEKU, I DIDN'T BRING YOU TO THIS WORLD BUT I SURE WILL TAKE YOU OUT. MOTHERFUCKER.

Denki: mister al mght do we have english tomorrow ?

Momo: @denki, no but we have literature, hello mister all might sir, have a nice day too

All might: YOUNG BAKUGO PLEASE WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE 🤣 YOUNG KAMINARI, AS YOUNG YAOYOROZU SAID YOU HAVE LITERATURE AFTER MY CLASS📜 HAVE A BEAUTIFUL EVENING YOUNG YAOYOROZU🌷

• I'm sorry for this but.... Midoriya, Denki and Kirishima probably lick their finger after they absolutely drill it in their noses but here's the deal

Midoriya inspects what he fished out like thoroughly, Denki dissociates while staring at it, and Kirishima does so straight out of his nose

• Someone told Shoto that Saiki K is based on true events and he genuinely believes it and tries to find Saiki K, claiming that he is the answer to all of his problems. Is very subtle about it tho.

• I think that in part one of these atrocious head canons we established that Keigo would willingly put effort to find the clit, right? Listen he probably asks what's the concept of the clit, like why is it outside and not inside- wait you have another spot inside, yeah? He's is so confused and for what? Won't stop for it mid sex but he searches reproduction organ anatomy later on on google because he brought some questions in his brain that need answers. On the clit. You heard me right.

• Dabi looks like he once had a break up that was so rough that he opened a Twitter just to drag the other person down. For once, I won't go into detail and will let your imaginations run wild.

• I have to do a a cursed one for Bakugo right? Well yeah uhm, he probably was caught flexing his muscles in the mirror during vacation, totally naked too, by one of his friends in his group and screamed in a high pitched voice and picked up that little hotel room fridge to cover himself up and chased them around the hotel room until he just crushed the poor item. To the floor? Because he tried to use it as a cover up and it just slipped... It's even worse if the friend was a potential s/o. He'll scream like one of the screaming/simping TikTok sounds.

• Bakugo also really hates chairs. Idk why I have this headcanon, but I know it in my heart that this man, as an adult, only has those round weird- ish IKEA stools around the kitchen table that's all. No more chairs. Nothing.

• this is too self indulgent but Kirishima and Deku look like the people who, while washing forks, spoons etc they create whole stories about them and treat them like characters, and others would just look at them so confused as to why it takes 16 minutes to wash off a spoon and why are they also crying but you wouldn't understand. This spoon is Cinderella. Back off and let. them. finish. their. stories.

• I feel like Jirou has phases where she only wants to wear black but then she sees a nice pair of jeans and buys it, and then buys some more and then she gets mad about having blue jeans and she dyes them, but then she grows out of that phase for a few months and she tries to find ways to make the fabric paint fade away

• I also think that she, after spending a little time with Momo, spends money on a lot of clothes, and it's not like Momo buys too many clothes, but Jirou always wants to upgrade her wardrobe and ends up feeling lost on what she wants to wear

• Denki and Kirishima turn into the same person a little more every single time they hang out together. You'll listen to Denki say 'manly' all the time and Kirishima starts trying to find leather jackets that look cool on him, and just adopts Dennis speaking habits.

#bnha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fanfiction #denki kaminari #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #momo yaoyozoru #endeavor #dabi x reader #dabi #all might #mha #bnha fan fiction #bnha cursed heacanons

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neo-shitty · 3 years

Text

champagne problems — b.c

description. in which your only company was the hum of the train beneath your feet and the numbness in your chest—waist deep in regret and envious of happiness that could’ve been yours. | for @kpopscape’s love fools event

pairings. bang chan x female reader (and han jisung x your bestfriend lmao *waving at you @ateeskiz)

genre. angst, lovers to exes

word count. 3.3k (short? I KNOW but damn did this take so long to write)

notes. i wrote this specifically to hurt myself address my own issues with relationships. this was painful to write since i’m usually not one to pick the skin off healing wounds. but i’m glad i got this off my chest. i debated letting anyone read this—thinking that i only wrote this with the intention to make it hurtful and angsty. but a few friends left such kind comments after beta-reading this and now here we are.

also, might i suggest that you listen to this version of champagne problems. an irl sent it to me after beta-reading and my god, does it suit this fic so well.

The last time you saw Chan was on the platform at Seoul station—waiting for the Busan train at midnight on the 24th of December that year. Winters in Seoul were chilly in the morning, even more so after sun down, but that didn’t stop Chan from booking the midnight train. It never does and you know this. Having known him for so long you knew he had trouble sleeping so it was no surprise seeing him at the deserted train station where no one should’ve been on Christmas Eve.

You knew where he was headed—their rest house down in Busan where his family usually spent the holidays. All the years you knew him, he never went. Not because he wasn’t on good terms with his family, he just preferred spending Christmas with you in Seoul. Except this year, you finally convinced him to go with the promise that you’d come along.

And as he stood alone on the platform of the station, he debated whether to stay and wait for the train or turn around and head back to his apartment. But spending the holidays in the presence of his family was a lot better than spending it alone. And besides, he already made a promise to his parents that he’d be home by Christmas and he didn’t want to break their hearts.

So he fishes his pocket for his phone, taps a few, before he presses it against his ear. He stares ahead, waiting patiently for the person at the other end of the line to answer.

“Hey Mom,” Chan says when his mom picks up, breath fogging the air in front of him.

“Chan?” the woman asks in a worried tone, shuffling at the other end of the line as if she’d been stirred by the unusual phone call. “Why are you calling this late?”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, “Can’t I wish my mom a Merry Christmas without her interrogating me?”

His mother sighs, “Merry Christmas, darling. But you really should be sleeping.”

A half-hearted chuckle leaves Chan’s lips at his mom’s concern over his sleeping schedule that has gone beyond the point of fixing. “Merry Christmas, Mom. I’m coming home.”

“Right now?!” the woman gasps, caught off guard at the sudden announcement.

“Yeah.”

“Why not travel tomorrow morning?” she argues. “You already missed dinner, anyway. It’s so late!”

“I’m already at the train station and the train’s arriving in a few minutes.”

The woman knows there was no point changing her own son’s mind—knowing well how stubborn he could be. But it doesn’t stop her from scolding him. “Christopher, you had the whole day and you chose to take the midnight train in the middle of winter? Nights are for sleeping and not travelling, young man. And you should’ve told me ahead that you’d be coming today at least. I haven’t even prepared the house for you and—”

Chan cuts her off before she can even mention your name, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment before he replies, “About her.”

“How did it go? What did she say?”

There it was. The million dollar question he’d been dreading to answer. He feels a lump form in his throat upon recollection. It felt ironic because he knew the memory haunted him all day and all night last October but it still hurt whenever he was asked about it. He should’ve been used to it by now. But the image of your sad eyes staring up at his expecting ones is embedded at the back of his mind. His chest feels heavy from the numbing heartache that came with the memory of the night of the Halloween party.

Chan had been waiting all night to get you alone and when he finally does, it’s on the balcony of your friend’s apartment. When he finally sees the opportunity, he takes it without hesitation. His hands were in his pocket—one hand trembling and the other fumbling with the box deep in his right pocket. You were staring at the blinking lights of the city while he was staring at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, an attempt to break the silence between the both of you. He tugs at your arm gently and you turn your attention away from the blinking lights and at Chan who was standing beside you.“I’ve been wanting to tell you something. for a while now actually. i just couldn’t find the right timing. But—”

Your eyes find Chan’s hand right as he pulled out the box from his pocket. It was something you’d seen too many times in movies to be unaware of what was inside. But unlike the movies, the moment wasn’t as magical as you thought it would be.

For a moment, Chan thinks that the tears in your eyes were out of sheer happiness upon seeing the jewelry box in his hand. But he soon finds out that it isn’t because you shake your head slowly before you give your answer to the question he hasn’t even asked yet.

Chan finds your other hand and holds it in his—like he always did when he wanted to comfort you, “If this is you and your fear of commitments, you know I can always wait no matter how long it takes. Right?”

You shake it off subtly before taking a step back from him.

“We’ve been together for years now. I—,” he stutters when you take a step to walk past him, “I can wait a few more if you need me to.”

You don’t waver and take the steps back to the apartment without looking back.

“At least tell me why not,” he says with his voice cracking and quiet—nearly drowned out by the music from inside. “Please?”

But what he asks is something you also don’t have an answer to either. You let the moment of vulnerability pass and close the distance between you and the glass door separating the balcony from the rest of the apartment. Your hand was on the sliding door’s handle when you hear Chan speak from behind you.

“No as in ‘not now’ or no as in ‘not ever’?”

It’s only then that you look back at him. He was standing right where you left him, hand still clutching the small box in his hand with his eyes glossy with tears that mirrored your own.

“No as in ‘not ever’.”

And you excuse yourself from him and from the party entirely. And he’s left out on the cold empty balcony, dumbfounded.

Your apology replays in his head like a broken record from the day you walked away. That night, he came home with all your things packed but you were nowhere to be seen. He leaves for work the next day and at the end of the day he finds his apartment devoid of everything you ever owned. You haven’t replied to any of his texts, your phone could no longer be contacted.

Just like that, you were gone.

He only snaps out of his own mind when he hears something being announced through the speakers of the stations. His mother doesn’t say anything, waiting patiently at the other end of the line for his answer.

Chan swallows, “She said no and I think we’re no longer together anymore, I don’t know.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his mother utters apologetically but Chan cuts her off again before she can continue.

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine, it’s been two months,” he lied but he couldn’t have himself crying on the platform of the train station. “I’ll be home in a few hours. You don’t have to wait up for me. I’ll just let myself in.”

And he ends the call after a few more exchanges, right as his train rolls into the station. Without looking back, he steps into the train and disappears as the double doors draw to a close.

Winter ends and the seasons change. You move out of Seoul entirely, starting somewhere new in a city outside of the capital. It took a lot of getting used to, especially that Chan had been by your side since freshman year. It’s in the first few months that you realize that you were right, you’ve gotten too dependent. You felt almost crippled when you went out by yourself, went to dinner by yourself, shopped by yourself. One night, it got so bad that you needed to fight the urge to call him.

You wish you could tell Chan all the reasons why you ended things that way. That the problem was never with him but a mere conflict with yourself. But every time you tried to, you’d get tongue tied and the words wouldn’t come. You’d just end up either deleting every single word you’ve typed in or you’d just end up staring at his phone number, ready to be dialed whenever you were.

But you never called—maybe out of the fear that he wouldn’t answer. And as you stalled each chance you got, time passed and it got to the point where you thought it was too late to even reach out. You were thinking he’d rather not hear from you again than hear an apology for closure.

And you were doing fine or at least that’s what you thought.

The next time you see Chan was at the wedding reception of your best friend’s wedding, six years later.

You wouldn’t miss the wedding for the world. It was your best friend’s after all. But you couldn’t shake off the looming possibility that you’d be seeing Chan again, knowing well you were all in the same friend group in college and your mutual friends were getting married that night.

Thankfully, staying in the front row as the maid of honor made it so much easier for you to avoid everyone. But in the reception, your luck had worn thin.

The venue, though enormous, wasn’t large enough to make it easy for you to avoid Chan. It takes you over a minute of pacing outside the entrance before you finally let yourself in. You’re at the back of the room. The center, where everyone seemed to be gathered, peaks your attention and you approach.

From the gap between two shoulders, you see your best friend—all smiles—in the middle gazing at the row of girls a few feet away from her.

“Why don’t you go join them?” you hear a voice speak from beside you. The woman, your best friend’s mother, snakes an arm around you before giving you a squeeze.

You utter a lame excuse, but you couldn’t just tell her you were uninterested in the tradition, could you? You give her a shy smile but knowing her, she wouldn’t be shaken off that easily.

The woman keeps your arms locked as she pushes past the row of people keeping you from the center. She walks to the row of girls, with you in tow, before finally letting you go. “Don’t be a killjoy at your own best friend’s wedding!” she whispers in a shouting tone before she turns around, leaving you in the company of college friends you haven’t talked to in half a decade.

They all welcome you warmly but your unease is evident with the way your stance is awkward compared to theirs. From the back of the row, your eyes gaze on each of their faces. All of which were familiar to you because you constantly saw them on social media, save for one. Your best friend counts to three and throws her bouquet over head. Your eyes follow the bouquet and it lands on the hands of the girl you didn’t know.

Despite not knowing who she was, you cheered along with the rest of the girls and applauded at her wide-eyed astonishment. Adjacent to where you were, a crowd of boys rise from their seats. Only then do you realize that they were the groom’s—Jisung’s—circle of friends and your own acquaintances. You don’t understand why they’re making such a fuss until you finally see him.

Chan is the last one to stand in the group—eyes glued to the floor, cheeks flushed and nervous. His friends move their chairs aside to let the boy pass. Chan still seemed like the same man you knew all those years ago. He was dressed in a classic tuxedo like the rest of the groomsmen were, radiating elegance yet cool, sporting a mature look yet he still looked cheeky in a sense that made you want to giggle at the sight of him.

You remember that years have passed and the circumstances were no longer the same. So you hide yourself behind the other girls who were staring at him too.

But you never realized why they were staring until you notice the familiarity of the scene unfolding before you. It makes your stomach churn. The girls step aside and you absentmindedly follow, giving way for the girl with the bouquet in hand.

You watch them meet in the middle—Chan in all smiles and the girl, bewildered. You don’t hear what he’s saying but the expression on Chan’s face made it clear what his intentions were. Everyone else looked eagerly at the scene and it seemed to you that everyone was in on it except you and the girl standing before Chan.

And you knew exactly why no one bothered telling you; you would’ve never gone to the wedding at all.

Your stare is only broken when your best friend comes up beside you. Her face is etched with genuine concern mixed with a tinge of useless apologeticness. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you. To be fair i only found out a week ago and I was upset because who the fuck would propose at someone’s else’s wedding?”

“I don’t know? Someone who knows their ex would show up on said wedding and watch?” you answered. Your words were laced with a mix of humor and bitterness and you’re praying it would pass off as a joke rather than a blow to your ego.

Your best friend smiles, “Still shady as you’ll ever be, I see.”

“Our breakup,” you say, recalling that night over six years ago, “was still my fault and I own up to that. Glad to see we both moved on though.”

Your nonchalance would’ve been convincing had you been talking to someone who didn’t know you very well but your best friend knew you too well. She hooks an arm around you as you both look back at the center of attention. Chan had finished talking and the girl was on the verge of crying. He finally kneels, earning a gasp from spectators and you try to stand there unamused.

Even with the chatter of the uncaring crowd at the back you still hear Chan ask the same question he was supposed to ask you six years ago.

Only this time, the answer was yes.

“At my own fucking wedding,” she utters beneath her breath in an attempt to make your grief a bit lighter and it earns a half-hearted chuckle from you.

The girl tugs him up and you swear that you’ve never seen him more happy than in that moment—smiling from ear to ear at the girl staring up at him—moments before he presses his lips on hers. For a second, six years go to waste as you remember what his lips felt like pressed on yours and the warmth of his embrace when his arms were wrapped around you.

You remember everything as if it all happened yesterday. And you can feel it, almost in your reach, but it slips out of your grasp before you could extend a hand to reach it. You tear your eyes away from the scene, feeling your throat tighten at the sight.

“I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re lying. My apartment is open for you if you need it tonight,” your best friend whispers to your ear, rubbing her thumb on your arm before excusing herself.

The crowd burst into cheers and applause as she walks over to her groom for a dance and the newly-engaged joined them. The noise is almost deafening to you and with every minute you spent there you felt more and more suffocated.

You knew it was your cue to leave. You turn around and find your way to the exit. A tear slips down your cheek and you’re praying that nobody notices.

You got so much more than you asked for on the only night you spent back at the capital. You’ve overestimated time’s capability to heal all wounds. It was clear yours haven’t healed at all because you could still feel the searing pain in your chest like six years haven’t gone by at all.

And you try to remind yourself that you were in no place to be selfish after everything you’ve put Chan through all those years ago. That he was happy now and it was selfish of you to even feel the heaviness you were feeling right now.

Winter has ended and the seasons have changed. Years have gone by without contact and you still weren’t fine, unlike what you convinced yourself all these years. Because you still find yourself thinking of the possible future you could’ve had, had you said yes that night.

And it’s the scene from earlier tonight that makes you realize that that future is gone completely, along with the man in your memories who seemed to haunt you endlessly to this day.

You remember Chan’s face when he found out that you were his new dorm roommate—wide-eyed and staring at the heap of books on your half of the dorm room. Every college party you attended where he would be the one in charge with the music. Spending the wee hours of the morning accompanying him as he revised one track after the other, having the privilege to all those tracks before anyone else did. Falling asleep in his arms and feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

You recall the numerous times he’d wait for you outside the exam halls, celebrate with you if you passed and serve you drinks when you didn’t. Attending his first gig outside the campus and feeling sad that you didn’t have anyone to dance with when he put a couple’s song on. Graduating college together and finally moving out of the cramped dorm room and moving into an apartment in the capital where you both had opportunities left and right.

Your mind takes you back to a night you were cuddled in his arms on the couch and watching the tv. He utters a promise—now broken—to spend the rest of his life beside you and you’re baffled why it scared you so much back then when you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else in the future either.

You find yourself on the same train station platform you last saw him long ago; where there was a moment of hesitation to approach and take back what you said. To tell him you were sorry, that you only needed more time to be ready and you’d say yes the second time around.

But he boards the train and you walk away thinking you’ll never regret the decision you made that day.

Now, you weight of regret falls heavy on your shoulders and you have no one else to put the blame on but yourself.

Chan was happy now and you think it’s enough to give you peace of mind that he’d recovered from the wreck you left him. He always deserved the best, and that’s all you ever wished for him since the day you left. You weren’t the best for him—you knew it then and you were sure of it now because you’ve never seen him happier than you did today.

Your phone buzzes in your purse but you ignore it—leaving every call unanswered and every text unread. You board the train with no particular destination in mind and you try your best to convince yourself you’re happy that he’s doing well even when it’s clear that you aren’t.

Until then, your only company is the hum of the train beneath your feet and the numbness in your chest—waist deep in regret and envious of the happiness that could’ve been yours. It was well beyond your reach now.

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neo-culture-taste · 3 years

Text

Abeilles au Printemps - Ch 9

Alternate Title: Bees in Spring

Genre: AU, romance, drama, comedy, smut, who’s the daddy

Pairing: NCT x Y/N (fem)

Rating: Mostly mature themes/ language. Smutty chapters will be labeled 🐝.

Word Count: 11500+

For other chapters, see the masterlist.

OMFG. I can’t believe it has been an entire year since we posted the last chapter. 2020 was truly a mess, lmao. We’re SO sorry we made you wait that long! We had everything written and then we started adding and changing stuff to the point where we had to rewrite the entire thing. But it’s here now! And you’re in for a WILD ride. - D

“So is this how the rich and famous live?” commented Yuta as he drove down the wide street, passing various mansions in the neighborhood. “I bet there's a pool in every backyard and everyone owns their own boat.”

“Probably,” you responded weakly. You were too busy trying to pull the skin off from the sides of your fingers. A nasty habit you had since you were younger, which only manifested when you were extremely anxious. You had no reason to be stressed, right? Jaehyun would explain everything and everything would be fine, wouldn’t it?

You motioned for Yuta to make a right at the stop sign. “Are we leaving the neighborhood?” he asked you.

“No, not really,” you answered, forcing yourself to put your hands at your sides so you wouldn't pick at them anymore. “He just owns more land than his neighbors. He likes his privacy.”

“I completely understand. That’s how I would be if I had all this money. I’d even have my own little pond of ducks,” he joked. “They’d be free to walk the grounds and they’d just add to the beautiful and serene scenery that I would curate for my land.”

You rolled your eyes at Yuta before sitting up straighter in your seat. “Speaking of ducks, drive slowly and don’t run over Quackers and Mr. Bill.” Right as you said that, two ducks waddled in front of Yuta’s car, making their way through the iron gates to their pond on the other side.

“He actually has ducks?!”

“Per my request, yes. Our evening walks at the park during the early part of my pregnancy also consisted of feeding the ducks. I enjoyed it so much I joked about him making a pond and having ducks of his own.”

“And so he dug a hole in his yard and purchased you two feathered creatures?!”

You slouched back into your seat. “Five, actually. The other three should be around here somewhere. They came with the ring, the beautiful nursery, and the wall he tore down for my walk in closet.”

Yuta almost slammed on his breaks in shock. “The wall he--Woah, wait he already built you a nursery?”

Sighing heavily, you turned your head to look forlornly at the swaying motion of Mr. Bill's feathery butt as he walked into the distance. “Yeah…”

“And now you want to barge in this man’s house and accuse him of what exactly?” he asked as he pulled to a smooth stop right outside the Jung estate gate. “You said you’d explain on the way, but you haven’t breathed a single word.”

Well, you were confronting Jaehyun about Mark being arrested for a car that supposedly belonged to Jaehyun and not his cousin Taeil being reported stolen, secret photos following the every move of you and your male friends since earlier that day, and the relationship between those photographs and those of Kun cheating while overseas. There was no way you could explain any of that to Yuta in the short amount of time you had between now and seeing Jaehyun.

“It’s complicated,” was all you told him.

“Tch. Complicated,” Yuta clicked his tongue. “You have a giant envelope of evidence you’ve been trying to hide from view since I picked you up. I’m a lawyer, too, remember?”

“Yuta, please.”

“Let me be a voice of reason before you do something you’ll regret." Yuta rested his chin in his palm as he propped his elbow onto his armrest. "You just became his fiancée only what? A week ago? There’s probably a logical explanation--”

“Thanks for the concern Yuta, but I have to do this if I want to stay engaged.”

Yuta ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, and he drummed his fingers of his other hand on the steering wheel while he thought. “I won’t say anything more. But just promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t hesitate to do."

Ha! You couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped you. You leaned over to kiss Yuta on the cheek and gave him a somewhat reassuring smile. “This just might be the day that I do.”

His brows furrowed. “Should I call the cops?” he responded with evident concern in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and proceeded to fish for Jaehyun’s electronic gate key out of your pants pocket. But then...your attention quickly turned to the large iron gate slowly opening on its own.

“I thought this was supposed to be a surprise mission?” Yuta lifted himself away from the armrest and took his foot off the break, then proceeded to pull through the gate towards the front of the mansion.

“It is. I didn’t call beforehand. He is obviously watching us on the monitor in his kitchen. Fucking creep.”

“Y/N! That’s your fiancé you’re talking about!”

You shook your head. “He has to be guilty of something since he’s not coming outside to greet me.”

“Right...” Yuta pulled into the circular driveway in front of the mansion and put the car in park. There was only one other car in the circular driveway and you recognized it to be the same make and model of Jeno’s car. He must have driven straight there after dropping Mark off at your place. No telling what conversations were being had within those walls. You imagined how lucky Mark had been to have Jeno in the right place at the right time after he was pulled over by the police. Was it a coincidence or was it on purpose?

Theories continued to fill your head as your eyes shifted, and they ultimately landed on Jeno’s license plate. “That’s…” You rummaged through your envelope and pulled out the photo of Kun and examined the sticky note attached to it. Doyoung’s scribbles matched the license plate in front of you. “Oh my--“

“Woah, who’s the hot chick with Kun?” Blurted Yuta as he snatched the photo out of your trembling hands.

“Give it back, Yuta!” You screeched in desperation. You tried to grab it from him but he pulled it out of your reach and batted your hands away.

“Where is he, at a resort?” You tried to grab it once more but he swatted you away again. “Why is Yangyang taking photos of this no name?”

"Yuta!" And he blocked you again.

“Why does this sticky note say ‘you don’t know who else he’s watching?'”

"Please!" And again.

“With a license plate number that matches the car in front--” You finally succeeded in snatching the photo from his grip and put it back inside the envelope, then let out a heavy breath, thankful that Yuta had only seen the picture of Kun and not the one with him and his son at the ER. “Y/N you need to tell me what’s going on,” Yuta demanded. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I’m starting to get an idea of what’s happening and I really hope I'm wrong.” You started to ask about his assumptions but decided not to, because you were too afraid to get confirmation for your own thoughts. “But if I’m not,” Yuta continued, “do you want me to come in with you? I won’t say anything, but I’ll be there to support you in this apparent kerfuffle you’re about to have with Jaehyun.” And fight him if he had to. Yuta didn’t care how much Jaehyun's face was worth if he ended up hurting you in any way.

You took a deep breath and shook your head. “No. I have to do this alone. But you can help this pregnant lady out of your car.”

“Suit yourself.” Yuta got out and went around to help you out of his car and straighten you onto your feet.

“Please just stay here. If I’m not out in exactly twenty minutes come and get me?”

“You’re asking me?” No, you weren’t. The inflection at the end of your sentence was because you had just realized how unprepared you were to confront Jaehyun. You were still in your pajamas for crying out loud. All the tension had built up on the way there, and all the questions you had for him began to mix with your feelings for him. You weren’t exactly sure how you were going to pull this off without breaking down.

“No. I’m telling you,” you corrected Yuta.

“Understood.”

Yuta helped you walk up the front steps before turning around and walking back to his car. You tugged on the doorknob and, like you figured, it was unlocked. You slowly opened the door and shut it behind you. The chilly air of the beautifully decorated foyer ran down your spine and left behind a trail of prickly ice crystals. It was eerily quiet. You took a left towards the kitchen and ran your hands across the granite countertop. The same countertop where the homemade cookies he made for you sat on the night you had welcomed him back home. You continued walking and stepped into the living room where the two of you made love countless times on his ridiculously expensive furniture.

Deciding not to continue searching on the first floor, you made your way to his staircase. The last time you walked up those stairs was the day of your baby shower--the day he proposed to you and presented you with a fully furnished nursery, a broken wall, and some gotdamn ducks. You were afraid of what would be waiting for you inside that room this time.

“Okay, little bee. Hold on tight.” You patted your stomach before you gripped the railing, ready to start your ascent. But you hadn’t made it two steps up when Jeno suddenly came flying down the stairs.

“Hey, Ms. Y/N!” He seemed to be in a rush and didn’t even stop to properly greet you. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you managed to ask the young man before he made himself scarce.

He stopped in his haste and turned around to face you. “My former employer is in the nursery as you probably already guessed,” he informed you frantically.

You were more than taken aback by his choice of words. “Former employer? Wait, Jeno, what happened?”

“I have to go. The moving van will be here bright and early in the morning, so I have to make sure everything is packed and ready to be moved out of the pool house.”

“He fired you? And kicked you out--”

“I have to go, ma’am. I’m sorry it all had to come down to this. I really enjoyed having you as an acquaintance the past few years. And I’m really sorry about Mark. He wasn’t supposed to get mixed into all of this.”

“Mixed into what, Jeno?” You gripped his arm, stopping him from fleeing your presence. “Please, I have to know.”

Jeno looked you in the eyes and clearly saw the desperation he had already picked up in your voice. Guiltily, he averted his gaze downward, but he suddenly stopped breathing when his eyes landed on the envelope you were holding at your side. He didn't know exactly what was inside your envelope, but he had a pretty strong idea. “I have to go. Please send my love to the baby,” he said and pulled his arm out of your grasp, continuing his hasty retreat through the house.

You took a deep breath and continued the ascent towards the second floor with more determination in your steps. Reaching the top of the staircase, you turned and walked toward the nursery. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light peeking through. You put your hand on the doorknob before readjusting your posture and reclaiming your confidence. You opened the door only to be greeted by...no one. Confused and thankful nothing jumped out to scare you, you turned every which way until you were dizzy, thinking you had somehow missed the six foot man in the beautifuly decorated nursery.

“Jaehyun?” You called out but there was no reply. You walked further into the room towards the crib. You braced yourself along the railing, the smoothness reminding you that Jaehyun built this himself with his own two hands. Two hands attached to a warm body that also proposed and promised you a lifetime of happiness. You should feel happy in this room like you did a week ago. But now you felt different. Off. “What is wrong with me?”

What were you there for exactly? What were you trying to accuse him of? What you were thinking he did could all have been something your mind made up because you were actually too scared to finally settle down and commit to someone. It was entirely plausible. You did this in all your relationships. You ran away from Taeil, from Doyoung, Taeyong, and Kun. Jaehyun wasn't special. The only thing he did differently was propose to you before you could escape. But you actually truly did want to stay this time. And maybe that was why you were so afraid. You were afraid of finding out something you actually had to run away from.

Tired of being in your thoughts and standing on your increasingly aching feet, you called out for him. “Jaehyun, we need to talk--“

“Let’s talk.”

Startled, you dropped the envelope inside the crib before turning to face your fiancé in the doorway with a rod in his hand adorned with bumblebee patterned curtains. He was wearing a fitted, plain black t-shirt— one of several in his closet, jeans and canvas sneakers. Damn, he looked good. Simple, but so good. And you looked like a mess of a creature before him in your pajamas, house slippers, and wild bed hair.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked after taking in your tousled appearance. “What are you doing here? Did Jeno let you in?” He placed the rod against the wall before walking up to you and grabbing your hands in his. He led you to the rocking chair, ushering you to sit while he crouched down in front of you. “Today has been very weird. First I had to pick you up from the emergency room. Then the release of my new movie was delayed by the studio. Jeno suddenly quit. And now you're here out of nowhere. Not that you being here is strange or anything. I love your company—wait did you drive here? Didn’t the doctor say—“

“Jeno quit?” you interrupted his rambling. “You didn’t fire him?” With the way Jeno ran down the stairs, you were pretty sure he was running away from something--or someone. But Jaehyun’s features gave off a look of concern and slight offense that you would think he’d fire Jeno for any possible reason.

“No, he quit on his own. He said the stress of being my assistant was finally starting to weigh him down. I guess having to deal with your brother getting arrested wasn't exactly something he wanted to experience.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you remembered exactly why you were there in Jaehyun's home in the first place. “Why did you have my brother arrested? And why didn’t you let him call me from the police station? I may be pregnant, but Mark is still my brother. Not yours. I could have handled the situation.”

Jaehyun cupped your face in an attempt to calm the rising anger he could see wanting to boil up inside you. “I was going to go over to your place, actually. Sit down face to face and explain how Mark got involved in this silly feud between my cousin and I. But my agent called to give me ‘bad news’ and then Jeno came shortly after giving me his less than 24-hour notice.”

“I should have been a higher priority, Jaehyun. I’m your fiancée!” You all but screamed in your heightening temper and pushed his hands away from your face. That probably sounded selfish on your end, but considering your reason for showing up to his house unannounced, it needed to be said. You hadn’t planned on blowing your top so quickly, but every thought inside your mind was racing, making it hard for you to stay level.

His hands went down and gripped the armrests of the rocking chair. “I know and I’m sorry. But you’re here now, so please let me explain.” You didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. You just wanted him to admit whatever your brain was accusing him of so you could leave and be heartbroken alone in your bedroom. But of course you said okay, anyway, since you literally had no other choice but to listen to him. “I truly did not know Mark was borrowing cars from Taeil. If I had known that information beforehand, I would never have put him or Taeil in that position. Mark was simply an unexpected factor in this ongoing tit for tat game of family rivalry.”

“Ongoing?” After he proposed to you, Jaehyun had promised you that he would talk to his cousin about everything. So why was this beef over you between the cousins still unsquashed? “Jae, what does that even mean if you were the one who bought him the cars in the first place?”

“It means that my cousin is a leech and I finance him in order to keep him functioning.” Your eyes went wide, but you didn’t say anything so he continued. “Taeil’s weak attempt to separate us with his words spoken at the baby shower did not sit right with me. So since he decided to bite the hand that literally feeds him, I felt petty and decided to report both my vehicles that I allow him to drive as stolen.”

Petty? There was nothing petty about that at all! It was straight up mean! Almost cruel! How could Jaehyun do that to his own cousin--his family? He wasn’t unprovoked, but nothing Taeil did or said deserved for him to get thrown in jail.

“How could you do that to a member of your own family, Jaehyun? If you were to get mad at me, would you do something like that, too?” Your mind had already wanted to make him out to be a bad person if it would help you confront him, but there he was convincing you himself.

“What? Y/N, no! Please don’t make this more than what it is,” he pleaded, squeezing the armrests tighter. “Taeil and I have our issues, and I know I went too far. But I would never hurt you like that.” You didn't want to believe him, but the sincerity in his eyes instantly calmed you against your will. “In hindsight it was not the right thing to do. I admit it. But I truly didn’t know Mark was using the cars and had been for some time apparently. And if Mark needs a car, why didn’t you just tell me? I have plenty he could borrow. They’re all nicer than what Taeil was rolling around in anyway.”

Your eyes narrowed, the brief reassurance you felt from him fleeting at his flippant remark. “Mark and Taeil have had a relationship with one another since way before you came into the picture,” you snapped. “Taeil knew Mark when he was still in diapers. He looks up to Taeil like an older brother. Whenever Mark needs brotherly advice, Taeil is always there to lead or guide him. I was happy their relationship picked back up once Taeil moved back here. He’s done more for my little brother than anyone else has. And to think that you almost put that in jeopardy.”

Seemingly having touched a nerve, Jaehyun's nostrils flared slightly when he sighed. “I apologize, Y/N. I really am sorry. The charges were dropped and Mark has nothing on his record.” Your eyes followed his hands as he let go of the armrests and reconnected them with yours. “I promise I will make it up to Mark. And you. We can move on from this.”

Move on from this? Like it was just that simple? Your brother was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a cop car for no reason. It was something totally preventable if Jaehyun hadn’t been an asshole in the first place. And even if he had known Mark was driving the cars, he would have just put a report out on a day he knew Taeil was driving one of them. It would have been easy for him to figure out. Taeil wasn’t that hard to follow.

To follow…

Your eyes quickly shot back up to meet his, startling him back a bit. The words you spoke next came out in a sizzling string, climbing their way out from being forced into the dark corners of your mind. “I find it really hard to believe that you had no knowledge of Taeil letting Mark borrow the cars when you seem to keep tabs on everyone else connected to me.”

You hadn’t wanted to outright accuse him like that in case you were wrong about everything, but the anger growing inside you had finally taken over. You couldn’t take it back. And now the thread that held together your relationship with your fiancé was being tested.

Jaehyun’s mouth opened and closed in shock as his eyes flickered with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place. You wanted to say it was fear. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone a cross between offended and worried.

You stood up from the rocking chair, pushing him out of the way to move towards the crib. You retrieved the envelope you dropped inside of it and shoved it into his hands. Standing to his feet, he looked at the envelope like it was an unidentified object never before seen on planet earth. And then his eyes went blank.

He walked over to the other side of the room and simply placed the envelope on the fully stocked bookshelf without any attempt to open it. Aghast, your eyebrows went high into your hairline. “So you’re just not going to open it?”

“Yes,” he said too simply.

Your fists balled at your sides. “And why not?”

“Don’t need to see what I already know is in there.”

You hiccuped. A premature sob getting stuck inside your throat.

“Didn’t think it would show up again after Jeno lost it.”

The room was spinning. You needed to grab onto the railing of the crib for support. Jeno? No, you had received the envelope from Doyoung who had supposedly received it from Winwin. Wait! Was that why Jeno’s eyes grew wide when he looked at it on the staircase? Was this the reason he quit his job so suddenly? Nothing was adding up. “H-how do you know the contents belong to Jeno?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Are there photos of Kun and some random woman in there?”

“Yes,” you answered him shakily.

“Jeno’s photos.”

Eyes glazed over, you stared at your fiancé standing across from you as your train of thought went back to the dark edges of your mind. For a moment you felt weak, and you thought your legs were going to give out beneath you. Jaehyun had thought the same thing, for he was at your side in an instant with a hand on your back, coaxing you to sit back down in the rocking chair.

“No. I’m standing,” you said firmly, your strength returning with full force, reignited by his audacity to touch you right now. You jerked away from him and walked over to the bookshelf. You aggressively grabbed the envelope off it and opened it before him. You held up the photos of Kun and the woman before throwing them down onto the floor. You pulled out the rest of the photos taken earlier today and threw those down as well before balling up the entire envelope in your hands. “Make this make sense, Jaehyun. Make it all make sense!” you yelled at him then threw the wad of paper at his chest, where it bounced off and unceremoniously landed at his feet.

Unflinching, he swallowed thickly as he studied the contents of the envelope on the floor. “The envelope did feel a bit thick. I now see why Jeno quit so suddenly.”

Jeno, Jeno, Jeno! Why did this all keep going back to Jeno? “What are you saying,” you demanded slowly.

“He was sloppy. Or careless. Maybe he did it on purpose.” He toed one of the photos on the floor that had been facing downwards and turned it over with his shoe. “I see he had these taken today. They never crossed my desk, but somehow ended up in your hands. You were never supposed to see them.”

Your throat became tight and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Involuntarily, you sat back down onto the rocking chair as your body betrayed you. You were weak. You could no longer stand because he had just admitted it in less than so many words. It wasn’t a complete confession, but it was all you needed to confirm what you desperately didn’t want to believe. You didn’t like the sound of where any of this was going, but you still wanted him to continue, to say he had a perfectly good and logical explanation for why Jeno would have all of those photos taken. But you couldn’t say anything, not immediately. You were rendered speechless by the truth you so hopelessly wanted to deny.

“Jaehyun,” you said barely above a whisper. “I’m going to need a little more than that.” He looked at you, his eyes soft with the unspoken words he saw mirrored inside your own--with the fear of knowing how this was going to end. “If you don't want to start with the ones from today,” you continued, “then start with Kun. Just tell me something.”

He took a breath and ran his hands through his hair. A gesture that forewarned he was about to unload a massive amount of unpleasant information. “Kun didn’t deserve you. He only appeared to be faithful to you," he said when he began. But of course, this was something you already knew--facts already revealed to the both of you outside of Ten's clinic the day of the paternity tests. "The woman in the photo was a fling from his past," he continued. "They started hooking up again towards the tail end of your relationship.”

A fling from Kun's past? You knew Kun had been in other relationships before you, but the two of you made a point never to bring up past relationships while you were together. You didn't want to talk about your exes for obvious reasons, but what reasons did Kun have? From what you knew, Kun refused to be stuck in the past and always looked at what was in front of him--who was in front of him. But then again, what did you actually know about Kun other than what he showed you on the surface?

“And you became privy to this information how?” you asked Jaehyun. Obviously he had known for some time before the paternity testing since he was able to orchestrate having Kun's pictures taken.

“Remember our conference call last year when I asked you to review my contracts for the scripted series?”

“Yes.”

“Well Jeno caught sight of Kun dropping you off in front of your office building that same day he brought over the contracts. A kiss on the lips between the two of you and he figured you were an item.”

A deep frown set into your face and your head tilted to the side in bafflement. In your head, you put together what Jaehyun had said and what you already knew and came up with your own conclusion. “So Jeno told you that I had a boyfriend, you became insanely jealous, and then decided to start following Kun around, waiting for a perfect moment to expose him as unfaithful?”

“Not exactly." He took note of your skepticism denoted by your stance and quirked eyebrow. “I was happy you found someone. I figured the moments we shared before I left was the extent of our friendship and physical relationship. Especially since we hadn’t decided on if we were a 'we'. I truly was glad you found someone to be with," he reiterated his first statement while continuing to look straight into your eyes. "I was a little sad when I found out, but I knew that I should have worked harder to be with you or just have you wait for me. I had come to terms with losing you. I was going to move on. But then Jeno went for his regularly scheduled dental appointment and coincidentally his dentist that day was Dr. Qian.”

“You’re lying,” you said before your brain fully caught up with what was going on. It was too good to be true--too easy. Did he actually think you were going to fall for that? There was no way Kun could have fallen into Jaehyun’s hands so easily.

“I really wish I was. Jeno usually sees the other dentist that works with Kun, but that day his partner was out and Kun was in charge of all the clients.”

You were suspicious of his answer, but you remained silent with confirmation that you wanted him to continue given by your facial expression.

“Jeno, being the diligent assistant that he was, prodded for information regarding your relationship--without me knowing about any of this yet, I might add. But when Kun told him about the hot date with his girlfriend that same night, imagine his surprise when Kun named a woman that wasn’t you.”

Heat radiated through your body once more as you processed his words. “If you knew about him, then why did you keep that from me, Jaehyun? I could have gotten out of that relationship a long time ago!” The volume of your voice raised with every word. You couldn't fathom why he would do that to you. Everything that happened up until now could have been avoided had he just told you when he found out. But instead, purposefully or not, he wronged you by keeping it a secret.

“I had every intention of telling you," he said, holding his arms open in surrender. "I just didn’t know how to do it. If I told you then, you would have accused me of snooping like you are now. Or you would have gotten mad at me and said I was trying to come between your relationship or something, like lying to win you over. And you seemed happy with him, so why would I ruin that for you? I was stuck between multiple options.” He let his hands fall back to his sides in exasperation.

“So instead of telling me, you decided to take matters upon yourself anyway and have the man followed by your henchman, Jeno and Yangyang, all the way to his fake convention tour?” you interrogated him. Jaehyun finally broke the eye contact he held with you by looking down at the floor and rubbed his neck. The guilt etched onto his face was not being masked one bit. Frustrated by his behavior, you reached out to him and yanked him closer to where you sat by his other hand. “Talk, dammit.”

He sighed and forced himself to look at you again, and swallowed thickly before continuing. “It was actually...an all expense paid vacation purchased by me.”

You let go of his hand, stunned into silence as your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes held so much anguish and disgust. Disgust directed at him. It pained him to see it--to acknowledge that he was the one to make you look at him that way. He knew he had royally fucked up everything he was trying to build with you, and the only thing he could do in this situation that he caused was to completely come clean. “I figured that if I sent Kun away, I could come home and tell you everything I found out about him. And when you decided to leave him--”

“You would already be there to put my broken heart back together,” you finished for him. There was no point in sugar coating it, but it sounded so much harsher when you said it out loud. His face flushed with shame. He looked so sorry--so pitifully guilty. You had every impulse to get up and slap him right then, but you didn’t. Instead, you let yourself speak freely. “That was your master plan? To set Kun up so you could swoop in and fix me like I’m some kind of broken object?”

“No, Y/N, I--”

“I can’t believe you of all people would do this, Jaehyun.”

“I didn’t do it alone,” he disclosed in a panicked attempt to deflect some of the blame.

You wanted to slap him again for even trying. “Yeah, Jeno. I’m sure he did a lot following your orders--”

“It was Winwin, too. It was his idea.”

You frowned, confused. You had momentarily forgotten that Winwin was involved with all of this. It was his idea? That would explain the way he acted in court earlier that day. And you did recall Winwin saying that he was the one who sent Kun on the fake trip. Now that you thought about it, what Winwin had said in court sounded a lot like what Jaehyun had just told you. But how? You had only met Winwin when you began dating Kun. Which meant…

“How long have you known Winwin?”

Jaehyun took another deep breath. He seemed to do that everytime he was about to hit you with more unpleasant information. “Winwin was my assistant before Jeno. Before I met you. He quit because he couldn’t handle the job anymore. He ended up becoming a travel agent because that was all he could find. We’re still friends and we met up from time to time. I told him about you one day. About us. That I wanted us to be serious. And when I told him your name, he said he already knew you and that he already knew about Kun. So, I elicited his help and together we sent Kun on that phony trip.”

No thoughts. Head Empty.

He already knew Winwin before you ever met either of them? The two of them were close enough with each other and became close enough to you to come up with this ridiculous plan to blackmail Kun? It was a really dumb way to avenge your honor. And you couldn’t tell if you were mad or happy after hearing all of what they did. You were...conflicted. Very. Conflicted.

“I..this explains a lot and so little at the same time,” you managed to say coming out of your stupor. “I would have never guessed the two of you were once friends. The way you hid it from me...wow. Did you give Winwin acting advice?” you asked him bitterly.

“We never stopped being friends. He was willing to expose what type of man Kun really was so he played along as best as he could. We both thought we were doing the right thing. We just went about it in the wrong way. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He looked at your hand, wanting so badly to reach out and hold it, but he knew you wouldn’t let him touch you right now. So instead he turned around and faced the wall on the opposite side of the room as he continued trying to exonerate himself. “In hindsight I should have just called you and told you. Whatever your decision would have been I would have supported it and moved on.” He walked toward the wall he was facing and placed his hand against it to support himself through his speech. “I truly thought I was doing the right thing. If I hadn’t screwed up the timing then my blackmail plot would have worked, haha...” He laughed after he said it, but there was no feeling in it whatsoever. “But then again it wouldn’t have mattered. I let Kun extend his vacation for a whole month with plans of getting back to you as quickly as I could so I could tell you all of this. I just needed him away from you for as long as possible so you would forget him by the time I came home.” He turned back around to face you. “But I was two months too late and already sixth in line. I didn’t think I would need to compete with any of the other guys for your heart.”

Sixth in line.

Suddenly, you found yourself gripping the armests of the rocking chair as your ears honed in on his last few sentences. You processed what he just said, repeating it a million times in your head until it finally clicked into place. You were a pretty sharp and smart individual. You earned several academic achievement awards and scholarships in college, graduated at the top of your class in Law school, passed the Bar on your first attempt, and you were highlighted as one of the top entertainment lawyers in your area. So your brain quickly connected the scattered dots after your eyes went down to the floor and you saw the other pictures you had carried inside the envelope.

Your eyes went back up to look at him. “You knew about them before you came back, too.”

“FuCk.”

Jaehyun turned around and walked out into the hallway with you following without warning. He had gotten caught in another lie and couldn’t face you anymore.

Now sitting alone inside the nursery, you felt your anxiety go through the roof. Your hands began to shake and your bottom lip trembled as you held back the urge to scream.

“Come back here...” It came out choked and barely loud enough for him to hear wherever he had gone. “Come back here, Jaehyun!” Your rage took over and you were able to yell for him as loudly as you could.

You got up from the rocking chair and made your way out into the hallway to search for your fleeing fiancé. Luckily, you didn’t have to walk far. He was pacing up and down the hallway between the nursery and the master bedroom. His back was tense at his shoulders and his fists were tightly clenched at his sides. You knew words weren’t going to stop him, so you walked to him and forcibly grabbed his shirt to turn him around and face you. When you did, you saw his eyes up close. They were red with tears begging to be let loose from his ducts. They spoke volumes. Within them you saw fear and shame doing a tantalizing dance together with immense sorrow.

Jaehyun hated it. He hated the way you looked at him like he was some kind of monster. Your eyes read back to him anger, betrayal, and genuine suffering. He couldn’t bear to have you look at him like that any longer and wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t a monster. But when he quietly spoke your name and tried to caress your shoulder, you immediately smacked his hand away.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” A tear ran down his face.

“No, Jaehyun! You do not get to cry!” You pushed him away from you by his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a bit. “How long? How long have you had YangYang following me around and secretly taking photos of me with the others? And don’t bullshit me. I want the whole truth!”

“Since I sent Kun away, okay! I knew you’d try and fill some preexistent void...” he trailed off and rubbed his wet chin, and then wiped his hand on his pants. “So I had you followed. What if you had gotten involved with someone similar to Kun? Or what if you found someone not good enough to be—“

“So the fuck what, Jaehyun! It’s my life and you had no reason to meddle with any part of it. Did you manipulate the other guys, too? Did you find a way to advertise phony trips to them, too?”

“No! I never meddled with anyone else, only Kun. At some point I realized those momentary flings were something you needed. A release. And by the time I had enough of your dick hopping with guys that weren’t me, who didn’t want to be with you long term except for maybe two of them, that’s when I decided to become the last participant in your ongoing sexcapade. I may have been sixth in line to get to your heart, but I was determined to be the first one you chose to share it with completely.”

“Then why didn’t you stop having me followed around?” You were teetering on the edge of an emotional cliff at this point. You felt a small kick inside you, your little bee signaling to you that if you kept this up she’d physically join you sooner rather than later, but you ignored her warning.

“I had every intention to have you not followed anymore. After I returned early from filming, I decided to try really hard to make you see that I was the man you wanted and needed. But then you ghosted me when you decided you wanted to try again with Kun. After all the things I did that you were unaware of, you still chose to be with him. I could have sent you the photos then, but I didn’t want to hurt you like that after you and I had just emotionally and physically reconnected. Plus if I did, we wouldn’t be having the conversation now after all that has happened between us this far.”

“Tch. Of course we wouldn’t be like we are now! Jaehyun, look at us! I wish you would have shown me those photos when you wanted to because I’d be done with both you and Kun. For good. It would have saved me a lot of tears and heartache.”

Delusional, he was genuinely shocked at what he heard about you being done with him. He thought he may have finally gotten through to you with his ridiculous explanations. “You don’t mean that, Y/N. We would have worked through it after you heard where I was coming from and my reasoning behind the decisions I was making--”

“I don’t mean it? You don’t think extortion and manipulation isn’t a reason to cut ties with someone?”

“Yes, but I had to do what needed to done--“

“You didn’t need to have me followed or exploit Kun. My life isn’t a movie where you can just play whatever role you feel like!”

Those words cut him deep, and his countenance flickered with pain. “Y/N, I’m sorry--“

“Stop saying that! Because if you meant it you wouldn’t still be having me followed to this day! You were the last person I thought would hurt me this much!”

You had not cried once up until this point, but the dam had finally been breached. Tears fell fast from your eyes as your heart shattered into a million pieces. You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your baby was shifting inside you, agitated by all of the stress you were putting on her. And the thought of her safety was the only thing keeping you from falling to your knees.

“I never meant to hurt you like this...” He said as his own heart crumbled from watching himself single handedly destroy yours. “But...even after all I’ve done,” he continued, though you couldn’t imagine what more he could possibly have to say. “I’m still better than all the other guys you’re still hung up on.”

“I’m not hung up on anyone! I said yes to being your fiancée, remember?” You aggressively removed your hand adorned with the beautiful ring from your face and held it up to his. “I said yes without hesitation. But knowing what I know now, maybe I shouldn’t have. Even the fourth guy in line wouldn’t have hurt me this badly!”

Jaehyun’s eyes grew wide then narrowed before he quickly rushed a hand through his hair. It had become increasingly unkempt since the beginning of the argument. “Who, Taeyong? He wouldn’t know how to take care of you even if he tried. He can’t even properly manage his own bar.” You didn’t even ask how he knew which exact guy was fourth and let him continue talking. “This is actually his third attempt at a bar. His first two bars closed shortly after opening because of the shady dealings he was doing to keep the place afloat. He’s managed to make it past six months now because he was threatened again with more jail time. Plus you started sleeping with him again, and of course he believed he would have a life with you. So that forced him to start changing his way of living.”

“Well it’s good to know I’ve had such a positive impact on someone trying to turn their life around. At least he was honest with me about the type of person he was before and after he met me. All my other partners seem to have been more honest with me than you ever were.”

“Not the six foot phony who was one-third of your impromptu threesomes,” he said with a scoff before wiping any remaining tears he had with the back of his hand. “He’s engaged, Y/N. Has been for an entire year.”

“What?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah. The troll is afraid of commitment. But you already knew that considering you had multiple rendezvous with him while I was away. You were so devastated to hear Kun cheated on you after all this time, meanwhile you were the other woman for Johnny.”

“I didn’t know they were engaged! If I knew that I wouldn’t have slept with him again. But she knew about us before that. It’s not my fault he didn’t tell me everything about them.”

“Still didn’t make it right. Especially since you were also cheating on Kun at the same time.”

“I know it’s not right, Jaehyun! Why are you trying to redirect the conversation to make me look like a vile person?!” He didn’t have an immediate response for you, so you decided to keep going in your state of turbulent emotions. If he wanted to be nasty with his accusations, then you were going to be nasty right back. “Does Johnny intimidate you? You think that if you hadn’t come back or if I wasn’t with Kun, then maybe I would have ended up with Johnny instead? He is my type, after all, which is why I slept with him so many times. He’s tall, handsome, well-endowed, and has a dazzling smile just like you. Did you view him as your main competition?”

“Now you’re just saying stuff to try and piss me off,” he said with a set scowl on his face. “I don’t need to compete with someone who voluntarily cheats on his girlfriend. If the two of you had gotten together, he would have done the same thing to you and you would be in the same situation you were with Kun. Look around, Y/N. All those guys are terrible compared to me!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight onto one foot. “Fine. Since you seem to have some dirt on every single guy I slept with. Enlighten me. Tell me all the information you paid Jeno, YangYang, and whoever the fuck else you hired to find. Because I know you didn’t try to find anything out for yourself. Tell me all the secrets Yuta, Taeil, and Doyoung are keeping from me.”

Accepting your challenge, he began divulging facts without hesitation. “This is a secret not even Yuta knows, but he has another kid out there in the world. Maybe more, who knows. Jeno went above and beyond my authority and paid his ex-wife for the details. The kid’s mom had been trying to reach out to Yuta for a while, but the ex always intercepted and kept her quiet.” He saw your face fall, as you were very affected by this tidbit of information. To console you he said, “I’ll admit I created a monster with Jeno, and it wasn’t until Mark got arrested that he regained his good natured consciousness.”

“Why haven’t you disclosed this information to Yuta?”

“I wasn’t even supposed to know about that. Besides, you and the baby are my top priority. Not him.” Jaehyun leaned against the banister of the railing overlooking the first floor of his estate.

“I’m going to tell him,” you asserted.

“Suit yourself. I don’t care anymore,” he said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, what about Taeil? Did he steal your girlfriend when he was younger? Is that why you’re making sure he doesn’t end up with me either?”

“No.” He said affronted.

“Then why?”

He looked down as he ran his hand back and forth along the polished wood of the banister. “Because I hired the love of his life to be my lawyer, pursued her situationally and then romantically, maybe fathered her first born child, and then I told her I loved her and proposed.”

“That’s not what I asked nor is it new information. Shit, everyone at the baby shower could have figured that out—they probably did figure that out.”

“No, it’s not. But to add insult to injury, he can’t provide for you like I can. Taeil’s broke. He’s a terrible accountant that made some piss poor investments in the past. He has no money. No savings. Nothing tucked under his mattress. He drives my cars because he can’t afford to buy his own. His house? Mine. His gym membership? He’s a guest on my account. Those bad investments? Good investments now since I got my hands on them. The only reason he was able to successfully get you in bed was because he moved back here while I was busy filming my movie; before I could convince him otherwise. He was the one that recommended I hire you as my lawyer. He just didn’t expect that I’d steal your heart, too.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but some things were starting to make sense. “So…,” you began as you spoke your thought process out loud. “When Taeil went to study abroad where you stayed, he lived with you and confided to you about our failed relationship. And then when you saw the opportunity, you sought me out and continued to pursue me even though you knew about his strong feelings towards me?” Jaehyun looked to you and said nothing, affirming your assumption. “You’re sick.”

“It sounds worse when you say it that way. But my feelings have always been genuine. I originally sought out your professionalism and just so happened to fall in love with you while we worked together. I didn’t fall in love with Taeil’s memory of a long lost girlfriend. I fell in love with a respectable, successful, and mature woman. Different time. Different place. Different feelings.”

You hated that he was right. He didn’t make himself fall in love with you just so he could steal you away behind Taeil’s back. He fell in love with you naturally. But as you have come to find out, he loved you a bit too much and was willing to do whatever it took to make him look like the better man.

Feeling your heart wavering, you squeezed your arms tighter against your chest before you asked him about the last person he supposedly had information on. “And Doyoung?”

“The only thing I have on him...” He hesitated mid-sentence as if he was contemplating whether or not he wanted to say what he was going to tell you. “...is that he pawned the ring he purchased for you. He was going to propose to you after graduation, but Taeyong got in the way.”

You audibly hissed as you violently sucked the air between your teeth, causing Jaehyun to flinch slightly. “Jeno didn’t tell you this,” you told him with a clenched jaw. “You’re lying to me again?”

“I’m not lying. And it wasn’t Jeno. Ten told me after the paternity test.”

“Liar,” you huffed out. You could feel your body temperature rising as your breaths became shorter.

He let out a dispiriting chuckle to himself. “Apparently you didn’t know, but he’s Team Jaehyun. Has been for quite some time now. He also got caught up in this ‘who’s the daddy’ drama and couldn’t help but dip his toes in. So he gave me some insight. He joked that the last men standing would be me and Doyoung. Even if the baby is for neither of us, we’d still be the last two actually vying for your heart.”

“Doyoung and I despise each other,” you hiccuped.

“And you despise me, too, now. So I guess Ten was way off with his assumption.”

“Just shut up!”

All of this had to be a lie! There was know way Ten had told Jaehyun that Doyoung was going to propose to you after you graduated law school. If Ten did know about it, all the way up to the detail about Doyoung pawning the ring, why hadn’t he ever told you? And why did he tell Jaehyun? Was Ten working with him, too? And how much of a financial hole was Doyoung in that he needed to sell the ring he was going to use to profess his undying love--

Jaehyun noticed the way your breathing had become irregular, and urgently pushed himself away from the banister when he registered the frantic look on your face as the cogs whirled inside your mind at the thought of Doyoung wanting to propose to you. “Y/N, listen to me. I know this is--“

“Sorry, pretty boy. Your time is up.”

Equally stunned by the interruption, both you and Jaehyun whipped your heads around towards the staircase to see Yuta making his entrance onto the scene. You were so caught up in Jaehyun’s bullshit that you had momentarily forgotten he was still waiting for you outside. The tightness in your chest loosened at the sight of him, and you were thankful he kept his word by coming to your rescue at the right time.

“Y/N, it’s time to go?”

Jaehyun’s narrowed eyes darted quickly between you and the other man standing before him. “How long have you been in here?”

Yuta made his way over to you and gently uncrossed your arms that were still pressed tightly against your chest. “Long enough to know I have another kid somewhere out there. Not the way I wanted to find out, but then again, you can’t always get what you want.” While looking into your glossy eyes, he cuffed his hand around one of yours and let you squeeze it as hard as you needed to in order to keep hold of your sanity. He could feel the fast pace of your heightened pulse through your palm. “My ex-wife is pretty trash, huh?” He asked, then turned his head to face Jaehyun to now look directly into his eyes. “Don’t make the same mistake I did and marry the wrong person, Y/N.”

Beneath that cold, blank expression, you knew Jaehyun was fuming. You, his fiancée, had come unannounced to confront him, and now stood in his home holding hands with another man who also held claim to a piece of your heart. You stared at him as he seethed in silence, letting every letter of Yuta’s words sink into his prefrontal cortex.

“Don’t call me, text, email, or anything,” you commanded Jaehyun after you were able to find your breath. “I need time away from you to think. I need time for myself, my health, and my baby. Our possible baby.” You pointed between all three of you within the space. “Just let me think. No matter how long it takes.” You paused briefly to shift a bit of your weight onto Yuta, as you were now too tired to stand on your own. “If you want any little bit of hope that I’ll stay with you after all this, you’ll do these things for me.”

With your other hand you reached out to Yuta’s, and he proceeded to help you walk down the stairs and out of the mansion.

There wasn’t anything he could say. The only thing Yuta could do was listen to the sniffling of your nose and breathy sighs as you cried softly beside him while he drove you home. You had a great deal of things on your mind and you would talk when you were ready. He himself had a lot on his mind. His ex-wife had been blocking him from seeing his other child. The only reason he could think of for her to do something like that was so she could secure their son’s inheritance, to ensure that he got all of it without having to split it with another sibling. He didn’t put it past her. She already tried to wring his bank account dry during the divorce. This made him wonder what his ex had in mind to do if he was the father of your baby, too. He needed to do something about that conniving woman and get his son away from her before she did something else he wouldn’t be able to forgive.

You sighed heavily, snapping Yuta out of his thoughts. From the corner of his eye he saw you wipe your nose with one of the tissues from the packet he got for you out of his glove compartment. Seeing you like this was so upsetting to him. He was used to seeing you as a strong, independent woman who didn’t have any problem taking care of herself. To see someone like you so broken up because of another person made him so mad. He should have punched Jaehyun like he originally wanted to.

“I’ll stay with you until your brother gets back,” Yuta said, breaking the stagnant air around you.

You shook your head. “No, your family needs you.”

“Are you sure?”

You weren’t. You weren’t sure if you actually wanted to be alone until Mark came back. You weren’t sure you could be alone. But you were sure that you didn't want to drag your brother or Yuta any further down this deep pit of despair you dug for yourself. You didn’t want to go home anymore. You didn’t want to be there alone with your thoughts and you didn’t want to be there with Yuta who had his own issues that needed to be sorted out right away. But where could you go? The man you thought you could trust your heart to just ripped it out of your chest and stomped on it. There was nowhere else for you to go but home to cry on your brother, but you refused to keep stressing him out. So you would have to go to a place where you could cry on someone else who actually had a role in your messed up storyline. Two of which would more than likely turn you away, and one of them would definitely welcome you with open arms against their better judgement. And the other would…

“I want you to take me somewhere else instead,” you answered Yuta’s question.

“What? Where?”

“I just don’t want to go home. Please, Yuta?”

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to have to charge you cab fare.”

Because of Yuta’s joke, a small smile was able to make its way onto your tear stained face. “Thank you. Take the exit after the next one and then make a left at the light.”

Yuta followed your instructions as you directed him to your destination. He had an idea on where you were going and his assumption grew stronger when he began to drive through a residential area. You pointed to the house you wanted him to drop you off in front of and he pulled up to the curb to park his car.

“That’ll be $36.00, please,” he said, reaching out his hand towards you. You ignored his antics and began taking off your seatbelt. “Whose house is this anyway?”

“You’ll see.”

“Oh no. I’m not letting you out until you tell me.” To reinforce his point, he pressed the button to re-lock his car doors that had automatically unlocked when he put his car into park.

“I’ll be fine. What more can be done to me after what I just went through?” You unlocked the door manually and then struggled your way out of the car by yourself. By the time Yuta had taken off his own seatbelt to stop you, you were already halfway to the front door of the house, so he gave up and let himself watch you go up the rest of the way and ring the doorbell. After opening the door, the owner of the house’s hands went immediately to your puffy cheeks as the sight of your distressing appearance suddenly caused him to become overcome with urgency.

Yuta craned his neck as he tried to see who it was you chose to use as a supportive pillar. When he got a good look at them he made a hum of enlightenment before sitting back properly in his seat. “I was expecting to see her mother, not the rabbit.”

You were immediately ushered into the house and made to sit on the living room sofa. Doyoung left you briefly to make herbal tea after you accepted his offer for a cup. Once done, he set the cup and saucer into your hands, and then he sat down beside you on the couch with his elbows resting on his legs. “What happened to you?” he asked you after waiting for you to take your first sip of the tea. After your visit with him to the ER earlier that day, he assumed you had gone home to rest like the doctor prescribed.

“I found out who really had the pictures taken.” Doyoung didn’t say anything, allowing you to continue when you were ready. He watched as you took another sip of your tea, noticing the way your hand slightly trembled when you placed it back down onto the saucer. “It was Jaehyun.”

As if he had already known the answer, Doyoung closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. “I figured as much.”

“How long have you known?” Leave it to Doyoung to be so perceptive. He should quit being a lawyer and become a detective.

“I found the pictures the day you had us all tested. I put the pieces together a little bit before your baby shower.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Doyoung looked down shamefully at his hands. “You ask that like you were actually willing to talk to me.”

“It didn’t stop you from giving me the envelope.”

He moved one of his hands to push back his hair from his face. “I’m sorry about that. My mind was grappling with so many emotions that day. I wanted to talk to you about everything in person, but he kept getting in my way.” From the way he spit out the word, you knew he was talking about Jaehyun without having to say his name.

“I’m glad you did it when you did,” you told him as you gazed dismally into the orange liquid inside your cup. “I was able to use what you gave me to confront him and he revealed his true self.”

Doyoung’s eyes moved from your face to your hand that held the saucer. You were still wearing the engagement ring from Jaehyun. He didn’t want to make any assumptions about where your relationship with him stood. “Are you still…” he asked tentatively.

You followed his gaze and inferred what he was asking you. “I don’t know,” you said after taking a deep breath. “I just...he told me a lot of things. I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust him again.”

“I see,” was all he could say to you in that moment.

There was another small period of silence between you so you could drink more of your tea, but in actuality you were mustering up the nerve to ask him this next question: “Is it true that you were going to propose to me?”

Doyoung’s entire body went stiff beside you. And you swore you saw his eyebrows hit the sky. “Who told you that lie?”

You turned your body slightly to face him more and looked into his eyes for the first time since entering his home. “Everybody has been lying to me lately and I just want to have an honest conversation with someone. So is it true?”

“Did Jaehyun tell you that to mess with your head? It’s obviously false,” he said, becoming defensively indignant.

“Ten told him.”

Doyoung didn’t respond right away, and so you knew it was the truth.

“How much money did you lose on the ring?”

“Why does that matter? You still left me anyway, so I would have had to sell it regardless.”

And here you thought the two of you would finally be able to put aside your differences.

“For fucks sake,” you gritted and practically threw the tea cup and saucer onto his coffee table. “I’m sorry I left you, okay! Is that what you want me to say? Stop reminding me of one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made! So can we please have a conversation like two human beings?”

Something you had just said lit a flame inside him and he could no longer hold back all the conflicting feelings he kept inside him. “Fine! If you want me to be honest, yes! I was going to propose to you. You were my everything just like you were to all these other guys that worship the ground you walk on for some reason. And I just don’t know why it has to be like this!” He took a second to take a shaky breath as tears began to prickle behind his eyes. “Because you were with me! You were supposed to be with me forever! But then you just left me to be with Taeyong, and I made myself hate you all this time even though I was the one who told you to go!” He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve before any of his tears could fall. “Fuck!”

You stared at him wide eyed in disbelief at the fact that he was finally being honest about himself. But then you shook your head when something other than his current state came to your attention. “Was it really Taeyong or were you too afraid that I might have rejected your proposal to be with someone else?”

Doyoung sniffed and wiped his eyes once more. “Don’t psychoanalyze me right now.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He responded by rolling his eyes at you, making you scoff. “You know, you're the whole reason I have commitment issues. You’re the literal reason I ran into Taeyong’s arms. But he turned out to be crazy, so I left him. Then the next thing I knew I was working with two guys who only wanted me for my body rather than have a functioning relationship. I said I was fine with that, but I really wasn’t. So I found a seemingly good natured man to settle down with, but I was still unhappy with him because I wanted to try the no sex thing like an idiot. If you hadn’t run me away in the first place, we’d be married by now with our joint practice like we used to talk about, and I wouldn’t have come out of some crazy sex bender not knowing who the father of my daughter is!”

“I know, I know! And I’m so sorry!”

“Are you?!”

“Yes! And I wish I could take it all back!” He cradled his face in his hands as he fought back a sob. “I never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

“You made sure I believed otherwise.”

He slid his hands down and off his face. “Because I’m stupid.”

You shook your head at him again. “No, I’m stupid. I still don’t know who my baby’s father is because I’m too scared to look at the results.”

Doyoung’s eyes widened slightly. “You have the results and never told any of us you got them?”

“I know I’m terrible for keeping everyone in limbo. I wasn’t ready before. But now...I think I am. I have to be.” Doyoung watched quietly as you lifted up your left hand and twisted off the engagement ring on your finger. “Knowing who he is determines how I’m going to move forward with my life,” you continued and placed the ring onto the coffee table next to the small puddle of tea you spilled. “And I need to be able to face head on whatever fate the universe has chosen for me and my child.”

Dun dun duuuunnnnn!

For other chapters, see the masterlist.

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nikkoliferous · 3 years

Text

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

#loki meta #loki #thor #tony stark #steve rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #avengers assemble #mcu #phase one: avengers

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shijiujun · 4 years

Note

“you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right” au for moshang plz sqh singing modern songs that mbj doesn't know and being hella confused 🥺

Featuring karaoke-loving Shang Qinghua who gets a bit too drunk at a Cang Qiong mountain gathering, and he goes all out.

Or when Mobei Jun wonders why Shang Qinghua is singing about another man called Liang Shan Bo.

---

Sometimes, he thinks about his old life before he ever had the misfortune of landing in a world of his own creation, with an annoying gaming AI system of sorts hounding his every move (in the beginning) or turning up at the most inopportune times just when he thinks it’s finally gone and left him alone (more recently).

Shang Qinghua remembers not having many friends when he was still Shang Qinghua, when ‘向天打飞机 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ was still merely his writing Weibo account moniker and when he had millions of people looking up to him for his crucial contributions in writing this amazing story about his son Luo Binghe and the way he overcame all odds to become a success with a harem of gorgeous women at his feet (damn you, Peerless Cucumber bro!).

Back in those days, he lived off cup noodles and instant coffee. If he didn’t have to leave the house, Shang Qinghua would simply curl up in front of his laptop, either writing for his novel or watching shows (clears his throat) - actual shows! Chinese period dramas were his favourite, where a skilled and intelligent consort in the harem would outwit all the other women to be with her one true love, the Emperor, who falls irrevocably in love with her.

And when he got bored, he switched from the laptop to his television to engage in his second most favourite hobby - Chinese karaoke. Going out to a karaoke bar would require some level of socializing, and also a few friends so he gets more bang out of his buck from what he pays for the room, but at home?

With advanced technology and a tiny ass microphone in either shining gold or silver, Shang Qinghua’s home entertainment system was his very own personal karaoke room, His tiny mic even had that echo-y effect on.

Shang Qinghua has a thing for classic Chinese songs - ‘The New Butterfly Dream’, ‘Liang Shan Bo and Juliet’, The Moon Represents My Heart‘ - and contemporary karaoke must-haves, like Wang Fei. For an embarrassing few days, the Chinese version of Baby Shark was a veritable earworm as well.

After transmigrating into his own story set in ancient times, where he lives without technology, Shang Qinghua would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the Internet. Laptops would be incredibly handy, and so would switches for lights, definitely indoor plumbing for toilets, and induction stoves. Phones too, that would be nice, rather than having to ‘send word’ with letters.

Of course, there is no karaoke bar or machine for him.

Not all is bad though. At least he transmigrated to Shang Qinghua in this world as a baby, so it’s not as if he was surviving on Internet and technology one day and left to do everything manually the next day since someone was always taking care of him. Peerless Cucumber bro, of course, wasn’t as lucky, but the man has definitely taken to this world (and his son!!) like a fish to water.

And as for himself, Shang Qinghua does not need to envy Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe either, because somehow, he has gotten the man of his dreams too, even if said man was a little cruel and rude to him in the beginning.

He has the love of his life (coughs coughs) and they’re stuck in this world for the rest of his life. What more is there to want? Not to mention how his cup of instant noodles betrayed him at the last moment, resulting in his death! It is slightly safer, ironically, to be in this world instead.

All is good except... well...

===

Shen Qingqiu marvels at the sight before him, torn between wanting to step in to stop Shang Qinghua, or watch this farce unfold.

He sometimes forgets where he, or where Shang Qinghua, who has been in this world longer than he, came from. They don’t always talk about the past when they meet, and aside from the occasional meetups, Shen Yuan is a part of him that doesn’t surface, not when he is with Luo Binghe.

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, grew up here, and aside from referring to Shen Qingqiu by his Weibo account name, he seems otherwise well-adjusted, no hint of modern online writer Shang Qinghua in sight. It doesn’t feel as if he misses their original world either.

This evening, however, memories of modern times slap him in the face, quite literally.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe calls, frantic, tugging him back into his embrace out of Shang Qinghua’s way. Once Shen Qingqiu is safe in his arms, his eyes narrow at the bumbling, drunk idiot causing a scene in the dinner hall, “Shang Qinghua...”

Shang Qinghua stops where he is, and then before any one can stop him, he picks up a pair of chopsticks, brings it to his mouth, and begins bellowing his way through-

-Jay Chou’s Hair Like Snow.

“Shizun, are you alright?” Luo Binghe fusses, his hands coming up to cup Shen Qingqiu’s face when his Shizun doesn’t so much as respond to him. “Were you hurt? Did he hurt you? How’re you feeling? We’ll go back home now-”

“What is he singing?” Qi Qingqi frowns in disgust.

They all wince when Shang Qinghua attempts to hit a high note, but fails miserably.

Fuck me, Shen Qingqiu thinks, his eyes impossibly wide, who knew Airplane bro was such a karaoke fanatic?

“... maybe he is possessed by a malevolent spirit? Or perhaps this is an unidentified curse?” asks Ming Fan.

“Or is this some new form of cultivation?” asks Ning Yingying, curious.

Yue Qingyuan, seated at the front of the dining hall, cannot help but be concerned for him as well. “Shall we call Mu-shidi to take a look at him-”

They’ve gathered for their annual meeting - a condition that Yue Qingyuan has set in place a few years ago after Luo Binghe ‘stole’ (married!) him away from Cang Qiong Peak - and although Shang Qinghua said he didn’t mind that Mobei Jun was unable to accompany him today, he spent most of the dinner drinking alcohol while in a melancholic state instead.

Who knew that Shang Qinghua was a singing drunk?!

Hence their current predicament.

At the Sect Master’s words, Shang Qinghua suddenly turns around and looks at Shen Qingqiu. HIccuping twice, he then beams, “Cucumber-”

Shen Qingqiu has never moved that fast in his life. Within a fraction of a second, he has his hand pressed over Shang Qinghua’s mouth, holding onto him from the back.

“Cucumber?” everyone choruses in confusion.

“I believe your Shang-shishu has had a little too much to drink,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, nodding at everyone else. “We should... send him back to Mobei. Isn’t that right, Binghe?”

His disciple, his husband, still has on an affronted, murderous look for how Shang Qinghua almost brained Shen Qingqiu with his flailing arms in his drunken fit. The moment Shen Qingqiu asks, however, his expression morphs into something so soft and full of love that everyone who sees it chokes.

“Of course,” Luo Binghe smiles, devotion apparent in his eyes. “Anything Shizun wants.”

===

The words that are tumbling out of Shang Qinghua’s mouth are entirely incomprehensible, and so are the tunes he’s humming into his ear.

Mobei Jun thought he had gotten used to Shang Qinghua’s eccentric mannerisms, and also thought he knew everything about his husband, so many years later. Shang Qinghua is mumbling Chinese alright, but none of the characters put together make any sense.

Who is Liang Shan Bo? And who the hell is Juliet?!

His mood taking a turn for the worse, Mobei Jun hoists Shang Qinghua up further on his back.

After getting so drunk, the idiot had the gall to demand for a piggy-back from the throne room to their bedroom. Mobei Jun has never once suffered such indignity in his years of living. A bridal carry? Of course, anytime. A piggy-back? As if he was some beast to be tamed?

Well this definitely has to be a first.

While he was stewing in his thoughts, Shang Qinghua switches from that song to another one, and a stream of ‘du du du lu du lu’ emerges from his lips... AND something about... a sha yu? What the hell is that?!

Shang Qinghua lazily lifts his right hand as they approach their room, balls it into a fist and puts it to his mouth, as if he’s holding something, and whatever monstrosity Shang Qinghua is singing, his voice gets even louder.

Mobei Jun tosses Shang Qinghua off his back unceremoniously and onto the soft bed. Interrupted, Shang Qinghua blinks, his vision blurry, and is about to catch his breath and start singing again when his husband climbs in after him. Trapping Shang Qinghua with his entire weight, Mobei Jun seals his lips with a kiss.

“... My king...” Shang Qinghua murmurs in a daze, when Mobei Jun pulls back a few minutes later, his breaths coming out as short, harsh pants. “My king...”

“That’s right,” he says with a glower. “I’m your Da Wang, your husband.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t know who Liang Shan Bo is, but he’s going to make sure no other man’s name ever leaves Shang Qinghua’s lips again when they’re together.

And when his husband finally sobers up, he’s going to have a lot to answer for.

---

Songs Mentioned (YouTube Links in Comments):

The New Butterfly Dream 新鸳鸯蝴蝶梦－ A Chinese classic, sung by Huang An but done beautifully by legendary god of singing Fei Yu Qing and singing partner for the song A Yun Ga

Liang Shan Bo and Juliet 梁山伯与朱丽叶－ A Taiwanese contemporary classic of sorts by Genie Zhuo, most Chinese millennials would definitely have sang this at a karaoke once in their lives - Song is inspired by Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet to some extent - They both die in the end and become butterflies, so they’re also called the Butterfly Lovers.

The Moon Represents My Heart 月亮代表我的心－ ANOTHER CLASSIC CLASSIC!!!

Baby Shark (Chi. Ver) － ˆThe baby shark hype did move to China, and it’s pretty hilarious LMAO and in Chinese, shark is 鲨鱼 (sha yu) but I’m assuming that in this world, there isn’t a shark kind of animal of sorts? So Mobei Jun and everyone else except SQQ wouldn’t know what a shark is or looks like?!

Hair Like Snow 发如雪－ By Jay Chou, another classic that all Chinese millennials would have sang in a karaoke bar

Wang Fei 王妃－ Jam Hsiao’s version is known best, and it’s pretty epic, not that anyone can reach any of the high notes in the chorus, but does that stop us from trying?!! Hell no!!!

---

Notes: My first Moshang?!! That didn’t really have a lot of Moshang time?! But thanks anon, hope this sort of works?!

#svsss #scumbag villain #穿书自救指南 #渣反派自救系统 #scumbag system #moshang #bingqiu #mobei jun #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #everyone else is somewhere there except my bb lqg #and anw karaoke sqh!!!!

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

Text

I did it! Finally fucking did it! I 100% the support log for 3H….Holy shit, that took longer than I was expecting, lol.

(Long rant, so heads up.)

I came in thinking “Oh they finally time-locked the supports, so I don’t have to have the damn cursor mocking me every time I open the menu like in Awakening and Fates, hurr hurr”. No no no no no. At least for Awakening and Fates, it was on my dumb ass for pressing the S-support and saving when I knew I shouldn’t. First off, if they wanted us to regain supports for Byleth in NG+, why the heck are supports for characters like Edelgard, Rhea, Dorothea and Lindhart locked? I don’t mean time-locked like the post-TS supports in a regular playthrough, I mean deadass “you can’t buy this, period” locked. “Oh it’s because you haven’t advanced that far in the story yet”. I can buy post-TS supports for the other characters, what makes El and Rhea exceptions?! The only thing that would be lost is that I don’t have to replay their entire route to get their S-support twice. It’s not like there’s enough differences between Bylad and Bylass to warrant the supports being locked, none of the characters specify a specific gender in their dialogue, and as far as different models go, changing models during a cutscene is coded into the game, so that should be no issue.

After going through the monastery option enough times, the hubworld is in this weird limbo state where it feels like it was made specifically for Byleth’s benefit (faculty training, recruiting party members, etc,) but the rest of the party seems to benefit from it instead (Instructions, Motivation points, etc). The Explore vs Battle options just don’t mix well, which feels like poor design choice. You can focus on auxiliary battles to raise your party’s level, but at the cost of potentially missing out on more party members. You can instead focus on the monastery to recruit party members, but at the cost of Byleth falling behind due to splitting activity points between recruiting and faculty training, and being in the monastery means less time grinding for levels. This isn’t as much of a problem in NG+, but if a game needs NG+ to lessen a design problem, then that’s more of a sign to me that the idea itself needed more ironing out.

As far as using the monastery to raise support points goes, the hubworld definitely needs a revamp. The only (good) options available are Meal Time and Choir Practice, with the latter being limited to once per week and the former making me think that the monastery must eat their own weapons to survive due to how fucking scarce food ingredients are. Getting meat and fish isn’t too big of an issue so long as you have enough money, but produce might as well be an urban legend. There were too many times where I had 60+ fish/meat, but produce was at fucking 1. I get that they wanted to be “realistic” in having seeds grow once per week, but if it’s at the cost of a gameplay element being nigh unplayable, then some more thought needs to be put into it. Sothis is a goddess of life and time, maybe her powers allow Byleth to make plants grow faster. Just something to make this section actually playable.

The final thing I wanted to talk about when it comes to the monastery is that, for some baffling reason, it is entirely possible to lock yourself out of key events like S-supports or being able to choose CF, simply by skipping to the end of the month. I’m not sure why this is a thing. It’s not like the game was designed with speedruns in mind (I mean, it is possible to beat a route in an hour, but fuck me if I ever succeeded in that), and nothing happens like a prompt popping up that you have to explore the monastery during that month or even limiting your options to just Explore (which the game has done before). This is especially weird for the quest in getting Jeralt’s ring (how to access S-supports), since Byleth is supposed to be sad in this month, so not being able to do seminars or Byleth being undeployable during auxiliary battles would make sense.

The option to choose CF is even worse though, because at least for Jeralt’s ring it’s a Red Quest that doesn’t allow you to finish exploring unless you complete it. For Edelgard, however? A dime-a-dozen quest prompt you can entirely look over and skip. No prompt by the game, no indication to talk to Edelgard, nothing. FFS, Rhea’s tea time quest was given more thought. At least her quest marker is a unique color.

(End of rant…sort of)

…So anyways, that was my experience with the game, lmao. Now you or someone else may be thinking, “nonnie, if you had this many problems completing the game, why did you bother?”, and the answer to that good question is…I’m not completely sure, lol. I know there’s more than one reason why, so bear with me here. I know part of it is due to sunk-cost fallacy (“I’m already this far into the game, I might as well fully complete it”), but I think a bigger reason is because I knew ahead of time that the routes were so similar to each other that there was little point in having a route split to begin with (except for CF, but who gives a fuck about that?). Despite all of my bitching, I do really like 3H even if I admit that it’s my least favorite FE game that I’ve played so far. I guess a part of me just wanted to like the game more despite my issues with it.

Now that I think about it, maybe the main reason was for fear of future mainline games. People are fear to like whatever part of a game that they wish, but I do think that 3H introduced some fundamental storytelling flaws that I’d rather not see repeated in the future, with me focusing on 3 in particular: 1) The Monastery, 2) Route Splits and 3) Byleth.

Aside from what I already talked about in regards to the monastery, if we are going to get another hubworld in the new FE title, have it to where it doesn’t conflict with how the rest of the story is presented. Is it better to simply tell us that the Western Church is xenophobic in an easily skippable side quest early on, or is it better to show us? Enemy Western Church NPCs going after foreign party members like Dedue or Petra more aggressively and calling them “animals” or the like, the map having Duscari NPCs locking themselves indoors for fear that the Western Church will persecute them, things of that nature. Is it better to tell us that there has been civil unrest in the Empire and the citizens revolting against Edelgard, or is it better to show us? Enemy Adrestian Civilian NPCs, assassins specifically going after Edelgard in a map, maybe one where a large farmland has been stripped bare. Things like that.

I’d rather do away with the Persona-calendar/Monastery hubworld, but if they are here to stay then they need enough content in it to keep the player engaged for 20-odd chapters, because there isn’t enough content in Garreg Mach to even hold up 12 chapters. Speaking of more content, if there’s going to be another route split in the next title, then there needs to be enough differences in the routes that actually warrants having a route split. Fates already did this well in having the route split be early in the game, along with the plot and story maps of each route being different, you could even skip to the route split moment on subsequent playthroughs, so 3H’s approach in having to play the same 12 chapters 3-4 times just felt like a massive downgrade. Playing multiple routes should feel rewarding rather than tedious, is what I’m trying to say.

Finally, and most importantly, I know that no one at IS is reading this but on the off chance that someone is - please, for the love of God, do not make another blank-slate/self insert main character like Byleth. Or at the very least, don’t have them be the focal point of the story, it’s a big reason why AM just works better than the other routes. For a game like FE, “self-insert” and “protagonist” goes as well as oil and water. Now, out of those three flaws listed, the Byleth one is what I’m hard set on. The monastery and route split flaws, my opinion might be flexible within reason, but the Byleth one…not so much, lol. If we really do get another self-insert doll for a main character, that alone is going to make the next game a hard sell for me, because seeing all the praise Byleth got (and has been getting) makes me fear that IS is going to take the wrong lesson from this and think they don’t have to put effort in making their protagonist anything resembling an actual person and their audience will still lap it up. It would be one thing if I just hated the character, but I don’t. I’m disappointed, which is even worse.

…With that said, it’s still better than whatever the heck Cap’n’Crunch is doing. Okay, rant over. For real this time.

—

I agree with a lot said here! But I do have a few disagreements, though they’re mostly my opinion than anything else lol

And this first one is probably like, extremely unpopular given how much shit I’ve seen flung at this aspect of 3H, but like… I actually really like the Monastery? Like yes, absolutely, it should have done more to not shelter the player from how bad the war is and it should change more with the world instead of being in this mostly limbo state where apparently seasons don’t real. I definitely also have those complaints, but to me, the Monastery was fine for the most part. A lot of the issues you brought up, like supports and Faculty Training and supplies for eating, weren’t a problem for me almost at all. My only real gripe is with how hard it is for Byleth to get training in Flying, Mounted and especially Heavy Armor without NG+ unlocking weapons ranks, since they don’t have access to Weekly Chores. I do believe I still managed to recruit everyone while only unlocking C in Faith on my Maddening playthrough of GD, but it certainly wasn’t easy. But I feel a lot of the problem people have with it are on subsequent playthroughs where they’re trying to do things like 100% any aspect of 3H, which yeah is gonna exacerbate the issues tenfold. Cuz like, while those three weapons ranks I mentioned are hard for Byleth to raise, on Normal mode you have unlimited auxiliary battles to help with all the other ones.

Like, I wanted to get Claude’s Dex to the max amount right? Just cuz I felt like it. And in doing that I found out just how tedious it is to get levels once a unit gets to a certain point, just cuz while Normal Mode gives you the Retreat option that lets you keep exp so you can drop a unit down on a yellow spot and get a decent boost in exp… you can do that like, twice or thrice on a story chapter. Once if it’s auxiliary (and not the freebie one). And that’s if you even have internet. And using the greenhouse to get Ailiell Pomegranates was a pain because they weren’t really guaranteed even if I used nothing but the right seed - doing that is more consistent, but not always, and I usually only got one anyway. It was annoying! But I was also doing a specific thing that’s gonna heighten the flaws in the system that I never would have noticed - didn’t even notice - unless I did that. The flaws are still there, don’t get me wrong! The Monastery definitely still needs improvement, battles still need to be a little more streamlined for future playthrough, but the flaws can seem a bit bigger than they are once you do certain things outside of a casual playthrough, know what I mean?

But, for example, when replaying 3H on hard mode and looking to recruit everyone after my no recruitment run, I didn’t come across any dilemma over “recruitment or Byleth being good, pick one.” That was the run my Byleth was usable, in fact - my first blind run that was no recruitment (save for Shamir) had my Byleth be pretty much completely useless while literally everyone else was fine. Also never came across problems with supplies for cooking (or at least not any big enough to comment on). So like, while these (and the above stuff) can certainly be problems for players trying to do everything everything in 3H, at least from my experience I just haven’t come across them. The monastery itself definitely needed a better story implementation, but yeah. I could’ve just been lucky tho lmao

I don’t mind how they implemented trying to get on CF at all tho lol. If you’ve been playing the game like it suggests you do - supporting characters and exploring the monastery there’s no reason for players to have missed getting on CF. If players wanted to ignore one of the biggest aspects of the game I don’t really feel that bad for them when they miss out on very achievable things. Plus, CF’s requirements are nothing in terms of FE’s madness when it comes to getting on a route. It may be more specific than any other route, but like I said, playing the game as the game tells you to would naturally land you in it (the only thing that might be a bit unfair is that I think if you talk with Edelgard at all that month you have to decide right then and there, and then the whole month is lost. Kinda ass).

Binding Blade, for example, requires you to do specific things that few first time players would think to do in multiple, random chapters in order for you to get the best ending. With absolutely no warning as to when these chapters happen and what to do in them. And some of these requirements are not fun lmao, I’d prefer how they did it with CF than with how they’ve handled ~secret~ stuff before personally

Pretty much agree with everything else though! While 3H is actually one of my more favored games in the series, I’ll be the first to admit that its storytelling is in dire need of improvement. Having the story and lore of the game just be spat out in lore dumps and this or that NPC just isn’t that good. Or if they are going to do that, at the very least give some visuals to go along with it! Imagine how much impactful Rhea’s story would have been if it was in a visual format, like CGs and/or a cutscene. It still would be an info dump, but at least we can see for ourselves how horrific the Red Canyon was for her! And I do not want another avatar in whatever next mainline game we get, personality or not. We’ve evolved past the need for self-inserts that all the characters Just Like lmao

But thanks for sharing your thoughts!! And sorry that it took so long for me to get to answering ;w;

#submission #anon #exqueuese me princess #but hey I found the og submission at least!! for some reason it got thrown in like the middle of my drafts?? weird lmao #but yeah overall I do think 3H could've done with some refinement for later more intensive playthroughs #and on the other hand I get why they didn't immediately think of them if that makes sense #also lol yeah the base game is infinitely more fun that whatever Cap'n'n doin' lmao

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r6shippingdelivery · 3 years

Note

headcannons for hobbies? Like what they do on their off time?

Hi nonnie! I actually did a Hobbies HC for “all” ops a long time ago. But seeing that was before the expanded bios, and it only reached up to Gridlock and Mozzie, I’d say it’s time for an updated version, don’t you say?

Some of the answers are unchanged from the old post, because I already nailed it or the new info didn’t disprove my ideas. But I had to revise a lot of the answers I gave the first time around! In order to find their hobbies and/or get a glimpse of their lives beyond Rainbow and what they might like, I read all the bios, and looked up concept art, and elites, and past battlepass content, etc. And when none of that was enough, I just went with my gut instinct 😂 Thank you to @grain-crain-drain, @dagoth-menthol & @todragonsart for bouncing ideas with me when I was stuck! 💕

Hobbies Headcanons for ALL ops (up to Neon Dawn)

FBI

- Ash: According to her savta, shooting things is not a hobby, but Ash disagrees. And since according to her expanded bio she knows Hebrew, Arabic, English, French and Greek, I’m willing to bet she enjoys learning languages as well. - Thermite: He grew up on a ranch and loves riding. He’s also taken an interest in improving gadgets it seems, so my old proposal that he dabbles in forging/smithing stuff seems plausible. And based on this concept art, demolition derbies attending and maybe even competing himself too? - Pulse: He’s interested in a variety of topics and goes through phases of intense, nearly obsessive focus, until something else captures his attention. He still has a lingering fondness for building muscle cars, since it was something he used to do with his father. And like Thermite and Hibana, it seems he might enjoy demolition derbies. - Castle: He’s a language nerd, studying/reading/practicing new languages is his hobby for sure. Since the expanded bio says he rescues abused dogs, I don’t think it would be far fetched he volunteered at animal shelters too.

SAS

- Thatcher: Aside from repairing his boat, The Iron Maggie, he also enjoys fishing. He used to do that with his dad & brothers, and tried to take the rest of the SAS fishing as a bonding experience. It didn’t go very well - Sledge: He plays rugby, and has an inexplicable fondness of trying the wildest ideas that tend to end with something broken, be it one of his bones or a structure or wall (just read his extended psychological profile and you’ll see, lmao) - Smoke: Boxing, it helps him focus all his chaotic energy. And chemistry in general, it’s not just a hobby but a passion of his. - Mute: he enjoys tinkering with stuff, taking it apart and then putting it back together in a different way, just to see if he can improve it or make it work in his own way. Flying drones plays perfectly into that, with the added bonus of being able to do the flying part just for fun too.

GIGN

- Montagne: His main passion is working with people, teaching and mentoring others, and therefore when he’s not on duty, his main passtime still is mingling with people and getting to know them. I could see him making overtures with Castle, interested in the American and fascinated by his knowledge of various languages, an area Monty feels insecure about due to only knowing French and English. - Twitch: Engineering, robotics and developing an empathic AI is her life.Twitch is a workaholic passionate about those topics. She also greatly enjoys traveling and, according to her expanded bio, people watching. - Doc: He surely had some hobby at one point, but he can’t remember it, or the last time he had free time for it. Doc is also a workaholic, although one that loves to complain about it. - Rook: Apparently he’s passionate about cycling, auto racing, and rock concerts. Mainly cycling though, since he dropped out of university to cycle around France.

Spetsnaz

- Tachanka: He collects and repairs old weapons. Mostly soviet, but he has some interesting pieces from other countries too. And he dances surprisingly well. - Kapkan: Aside from a certain interest in psychology, his main hobby is hunting, of course. But he also whittles and carves wooden figurines. - Glaz: Quite obviously, painting. He’s an artist, and quite a good one. He also likes playing cards, especially poker. - Fuze: He builds new weapon prototypes for fun. And tests them, if he can convince Six of it. He also likes to bake from time to time, a skill he learnt thanks to his grandma - and because he has a sweet tooth.

GSG9

- Jäger: Planes. Model planes, repairing old WWI & II planes, you name it. And watching copious amounts of documentaries. - Bandit: His bike is his main hobby, both taking care of it and riding it. He also likes playing pool; and, if pranking people counts as a hobby, that’s his oldest one, dating from when he was a kid. - Blitz: He was and still is an athlete at heart, and Blitz loves running. - IQ: In order to disconnect from engineering pursuits, she indulges in rock climbing, spelunking, and writing science fiction stories.

JTF2

- Buck: He crafts mechanical puzzles, and enjoys all kinds of physical activity that can take place outdoors. - Frost: She just loves being surrounded by nature, and often goes mountain climbing or diving.

SEAL

- Valkyrie: Swimming and diving, of course! She wanted to be a professional swimmer, but now it’s just a hobby. And apparently she enrolled for a helicopter pilot license, and language classes. - Blackbeard: According to the expanded bios, he likes sailing and even participated in a championship. And since he climbed Mount Everest, it’s safe to say he also likes mountain climbing.

BOPE

- Capitao: He loves football, playing or watching it, doesn’t matter, he’s all for it. - Caveira: Spends a lot of time practicing Jiu Jitsu, in the gym and also on unofficial tournaments.

SAT

- Hibana: For her it’s traditional Japanese archery (Kyūdō). And probably demolition derbies too accounting that concept art from before with Thermite and Pulse. - Echo: According to the expanded bio, he has few interests outside work, but I always imagined he’d be into gaming and e-sports. Hacking too, and that’s a direct influence from Dokkaebi.

GEO

- Jackal: He plays the acoustic guitar/spanish guitar, and sings too. And now we also know he volunteers with at-risk youth. - Mira: Fixing cars is second nature to her, and thanks to her expanded bio we know she also does metal sculptures that incorporate used mechanical parts.

SDU

- Ying: Extreme driving, which can sometimes trigger her PTSD, and traveling. Especially exploring cities by randomly jumping in public transport and just going anywhere. - Lesion: He is also one to volunteer in underprivileged areas (like Junk Bay, where he grew up), and clearing mines and other unexploded devices. I also imagine him with a certain gusto for playing blackjack.

GROM

- Zofia: If obsessing about her father’s supposed suicide and the oddities surrounding it, and desperately trying to reconnect with her sister count as hobbies, sure, she has those. - Ela: She’s also an artist, one with a very particular vision that some have called narcissistic. Apparently she also does some “freelance” volunteer work, roaming the streets at night and offering help/comfort, or a willing ear to the people she meets.

707SMB

- Vigil: He likes to take walks around the forest, just aimless exploring and marvelling at nature and any animals he might come across. Often listens to relaxing music while doing so, and he might pick a pretty rock here and there to bring home. - Dokkaebi: Hacking is her hobby, of course. She also has several social media profiles and is an active member in a couple of hacking forums. As per a previous battlepass, I believe she enjoys mountain trekking too. And dancing to electro beat, due to her elite.

CBRN

- Lion: His rebel years left him with an appreciation for rock music and a dream to be in a group. Lion still plays the electric guitar, when he’s not off volunteering at the local church. - Finka: Pushed by her parents from a young age to try different sports, just like her siblings, she eventually discovered a strong love for fencing and ice-skating.

GIS

- Maestro: Cooking, and boxing, an interest he shares with Smoke. But mostly cooking. - Alibi: She’s also a marksman, engages Ash in friendly shooting competitions.

GSUTR

- Clash: She’s very involved in different activist causes, mostly surrounding racial issues and inequality. - Maverick: Photography, mostly nature or candid shots of his fellow operators. I also think he likes horses and riding. And Buzkashi of course, but he hasn’t played since he left Kabul.

GIGR

- Kaid: Playing chess, he’s a good strategist and it shows. And while dozing off with a cat on his lap is not a hobby, he also loves that. - Nomad: Traveling to all sorts of remote locations, she’s an explorer with a thirst to prove herself. She also keeps a travel journal, which includes maps and some drawings of the places she’s seen.

SASR

- Mozzie: Dirt biking, of course. The more dangerous the jumps and stunts are, the more he likes it. He knows his limits and works to surpass them. - Gridlock: Robotics. She still wants to compete again in robot championships, just like she and Mozzie did so many years ago. She would consider that fixing cars and vehicles has become more part of her job than a hobby, but still loves it too.

Phantom Sight

- Nokk: Fencing, as evidenced by some of her concept art, she participated in fencing tournaments. - Warden: He knows appearances are important, and he cultivated a very specific image, so he likes to take care of that, be it by buying luxury or antique cars, or designer suits, etc.

Ember Rise

- Amaru: Archeology and exploring the Amazon jungle is her passion. It used to be her whole life and job, but since she joined Rainbow, she’s been busy with training and missions, yet she never lost her love for adventure, history and protecting her country’s cultural artifacts. - Goyo: He’s a really good chess player, and enjoys other games where he either has to think, or his usual poker face and calm demeanor can throw his opponents off.

Shifting Tides

- Kali: When she’s not writing reports about her underlings progress, or making lists about who should be ascended/rewarded, who needs to be punished or chastised, etc, she’ll be doing yoga, since it helps her focus. Or hardcore pilates when she needs to burn away some frustration first. - Wamai: Diving and being underwater in general, be it on his special immersion tanks or on the actual sea, it doesn’t matter. He finds it calming (and he’s addicted to the anoxia sensation)

Void Edge

- Iana: Space exploration fascinates her, and she’s always trying to learn everything she can about the cosmos, watching documentaries and conducting her own in-depth research. - Oryx: Wrestling helps him hone his physical prowess, and it’s also a measured outlet for his deep seated rage. He also greatly enjoys reading poetry.

Steel Wave

- Melusi: She’s committed to the conservation cause, which stems from both her love of wildlife and nature, and her protective instincts. She likes to explore too, although she’s not driven by a will to prove herself or reach certain goals, but simply for the joy of seeing natural spaces. - Ace: Social Media. He’s obsessed with his public image and popularity. While he travels quite a bit, it seems he does it more to share new and exciting selfies on Instagram than for the pleasure of visiting new places.

Shadow Legacy

- Zero: He knits and crochets, it’s an engaging hobby that helps him clear his mind, plus he enjoys making stuff too. Not many people know about this side of him though.

Neon Dawn

- Aruni: She and Hero, her giant pouched rat, volunteer on landmine detection and removal efforts. She also likes to travel extensively, and has done so in the company of Twitch and Nomad.

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege #rainbow 6 #headcanons #Anonymous

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css1992 · 3 years

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I absolutely love all of your stories and was hoping to give you a prompt! I haven’t seen you write Tony or Peter as superheroes, but I would love a story where the team goes on a mission that goes wrong and they think Peter is dead. A few months pass, and Spider-Man pops up in a different color costume next to a big baddie (Quentin? Rumlow? Whoever it is def has a crush or Peter lmao). If you can’t write the prompt, no worries.❤️

(...)

“Thank you so much for taking my prompt omgggg! To answer your question, Spider-Man pops up as a baddie, and he works with/for another baddie”

You’re too sweet and kind, my dear, thank you so much! I’m so sorry this took so long, something happened in my personal life and I was too heartbroken for love stories for a while there hahaha Everything’s fine now. I hope you’re still out there to read this and I really hope you enjoy it! <3

[*]

This takes place a few years after Civil War. A few details were changed – Peter was recruited at 18, while attending MIT; Endgame never happened, they defeated Thanos in Titan; Tony and Pepper never got back together after their break-up somewhere between IM3 and CACW.

TW: Mentions of blood, alcoholism, grief and death. I guess that’s it, let me know if you find anything else triggering!

[*]

“It’s him.” Tony stood there paralyzed, staring at the hologram projected from Nat’s phone, heart pounding, ears ringing. “It’s him,” he repeated, running his hands through his hair, trying to get a hold of himself, trying to make sense of what was happening, of what he was seeing. It was too surreal – impossible! – he had to be hallucinating. Right? Maybe dreaming? Had he drunk himself into a stupor again? Had he finally gone mad?

It was a regular day, Tony had been down in the lab for an unknown number of hours when Friday announced Steve, Nat and Bruce were at the door, which was unusual. Usually, they’d visit one at a time, an unspoken agreement not to overwhelm the engineer, but that particular day they all marched into his house saying that he needed to see something. He was too exhausted to tell them to fuck off, so he just poured himself a drink and shrugged, gesturing towards the living room.

Nat proceeded to project a video from her StarkPhone and what he saw took away the ground from beneath his feet. He tried to sit down, but he didn’t make it to the couch, his legs were not responding, he fell on his butt in the middle of the living room. The blood felt like ice in his veins, his throat was closing up, his eyes were burning and his hands were shaking so fucking badly. He was boneless and petrified all of a sudden, as he watched him swing from building to building on his webs, a black and white blur.

Peter.

He felt Steve and Bruce on either side of him, trying to help him up, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the projection. It was him. My Peter, you’re back, you came back to me, you’re okay, you’re alive–

“Tony, it’s not him.” Steve’s voice brought him back to the real world, and he looked around. Natasha and Bruce both stared at him with worry in their eyes, like they agreed with Steve.

“What, are you fucking insane? Of course it’s him!” His voice was firm, angry, even though his hand was shaking when he pointed at the hologram, to the short video that kept replaying on a loop.

“Tony, he robbed a bank. He put civilians at risk. How could you think this is Peter? Are you insane? Don’t you know him? Look, we had to show you this because it’s going to be all over the news soon and whoever this is, they’re trying to tarnish Peter’s memory and we can’t allow it, but this – this isn’t him, Tony. I’m sorry.”

The older man stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Was he going insane? Was he seeing things, was his mind playing tricks on him again? It wouldn’t be the first time in the last few months. He focused on the images. The bank’s alarm was sounding loudly, as people started running wildly out the front door. Seconds later, someone wearing a cape and a – helmet? Fish bowl? – on their head walked out, then finally him.

Not him, Steve said, but how could it be anyone else, when Tony could clearly see it was Peter gracefully swinging around on the webs. Not him, Steve said, but how could it not be him when Tony recognized every inch of his body? The long neck, the narrow, yet strong shoulders, thin waist, round ass, strong thighs, small feet, long hands and thin, wiry arms. How could it not be him when Tony could recognize the way he moved, the way he leaped and landed effortlessly, the grace with which he swung back and forth?

“It’s him, Steve.” Even as the words left his mouth, his eyes were fixed on the boy in the video. The suit looked a lot like the one Tony made for him, but it was slightly different. Black, instead of blue. White, instead of red. But it was him. Alive and breathing. “It’s Peter, I know it is.”

***

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Even though it called for every Avenger in town, it was just a security measure, Steve told them. They intercepted a terrorist group communicating online, planning a coordinated attack on Stark Tower, the Avengers Compound and Times Square. They were professionals, but only human. They thought they’d be enough: Captain America, Black Widow, Iron Man, Spiderman, Winter Soldier and even the Hulk as a safety net.

In a way, they were sufficient. They were able to avoid the attack and arrest almost every single one of the terrorists that weren’t killed during the mission. But the cost was high – way too fucking high.

Peter.

Tony knew what happened the exact moment when it did. He knew there was no saving him when he opened his lips and tried to call out his name and instead of words, blood came out. Thick, dark blood. He saw the life leaving his eyes when he looked at him one last time, eyelids drooping and then closing. There was no saving him, Tony knew that, and yet he tried. He flew as fast as the suit would allow him, even though he had no idea what he would have done if he had reached him in time. Which he didn’t.

Peter disappeared before his eyes, along with the man who had put a knife through his heart. And not just any knife, not any metal would have been able to pierce the suit. It had to be vibranium. Whoever that man was, he knew that, maybe he had Peter in mind all along. The only thing Tony remembered about him were his wide, blue eyes. Cold and wild. The sadistic smile when he heard Tony’s wail of despair. Tony thought he knew him somehow, but couldn’t be sure.

They just disappeared. One second, they were there, right within his reach, the next, they were gone. He’d lost him. The person he’d sworn to protect at all costs, at the cost of his own damned life, but he was useless the moment Peter needed him the most. Gone. Disappeared before his eyes, Tony couldn’t even bring his body home.

He remembered crumbling to the ground, broken and unbelieving, staring at the empty space where Peter once stood.

“Tony...” Steve crouched down next to him, looking pained and devastated, and the older man broke down.

“I lost the kid, Steve. I lost him.”

He didn’t remember a lot of that day, he’d passed out drunk in his room for the first time in ten years, woke up hours later in the med bay with Steve, Rhodey and Pepper speaking in hushed voices. He didn’t care what they were saying, because the first thought he had when he opened his eyes was that he’d lost the love of his life. His Peter.

***

“Boss, I was able to acquire the footage from the bank’s security cameras.” Friday’s voice brought him back to the present and they all jumped up, all eyes turning to the huge screen facing the couch.

“Good girl, play it,” he answered quickly, taking a seat because he knew he would need it.

It started with a normal day in a bank, people walking around, standing in line, talking to each other, nothing out of the ordinary. Then the guy they’d seen leaving the bank in the other video – Fish-bowl-guy – appeared out of nowhere, levitating above the patrons, slowly floating down.

“My fellow citizens, do not fret, I mean you no harm.” Of course, New Yorkers wouldn’t take his word for it, not after everything they had gone through over the course of the last decade. People started screaming and running, trying to get to the exit, but Peter stood there by the door. When they tried to push through him, he webbed some of them to the walls and the others froze, slowly stepping away from him. “This will all be over soon, I promise.”

Fish-bowl-guy demanded the tellers filled bags with money from their drawers as Peter guarded the exit. He didn’t say anything and it was driving Tony crazy, because he was dying to hear him. Both because he wanted Friday to run the audio through a voice recognition software to prove once and for all that it was him, but also because for six months he hadn’t been able to even look at pictures of Peter, let alone hear his voicemails or watch his silly videos. And he had several of them, the younger man sent him at least a video a day – his daily vlogs, he called them – even if they were just in different rooms.

But Peter didn’t say anything, he just stood by the door as Fish-bowl-guy talked to the patrons.

“I know we seem like the bad guys right now, but I promise you, we’re not. We’re the heroes here, really,” He started, overlooking the tellers as they filled the bags with cash. “We’re here to take the city back from those who took it from us. You know what I’m talking about, right?” The man looked at the patrons as if he was expecting an answer, but no one said a word. “Tony Stark and his little army. He took over his daddy’s empire, now he thinks he can just take anything and claim as his own. He’s done it to this city, even if some people haven’t realized it yet. We’re his hostages. He built himself an army and they control this city, the country, even! They fake threats and then come to ‘save us’, they destroy our homes, they kill our loved ones, they don’t care about collateral damage! Some of us have lost everything, because of Tony fucking Stark and his minions. But it will all be over soon, I promise you. I will set you free.”

He took the twelve bags full of money that the tellers placed on the counter and gestured for Peter to come closer and the young man webbed his way to him, until he was standing by his side. That was the moment people started running out of the bank, the moment they saw from another point of view in the other video. As they watched people leaving, Fish-bowl-guy placed an arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him close in a very friendly way, it made Tony’s blood boil and his heart sink.

“You’re doing great, honey. You’re doing the right thing. Come on, now.” He stroked his shoulder softly then walked outside, followed closely by Peter and then the video was over.

The room was silent for a few seconds after that as they tried to understand what they’d just seen. Tony didn’t want to read too much into it, Peter was clearly not in his right mind if he was robbing a bank, but still – the guy called him honey. He was… comforting him. And Peter let him.

“We have to find him.” Tony quickly ordered Friday to do a thorough search on the web, check surveillance cameras all over New York, police database, anything that could give them a clue on where they might have escaped to – or where they had come from. The news said they were followed by the police for a few blocks, then they simply disappeared before their eyes. It brought back terrible memories.

“Yes, we do, but not for the reasons you want, Tony.” Bruce frowned, coming to stand next to his friend. “You have to agree this – it’s just not possible. Peter is dead, he would never –“

“Then where’s his body, Bruce? Huh? Can any of you answer me that?” He looked around the room and they all avoided his gaze, as if worried they’d break him if they dared to say what they thought. “He disappeared. Right before my eyes, Bruce. Friday couldn’t connect to Karen, we have no idea what could have happened after that.”

“Tony, his heart was pierced.” It was Natasha’s turn to try. Tony could see it was hard for her too, she had a soft spot for Peter, from the very first time Tony recruited him, when he was still an eighteen year-old kid. “He couldn’t possibly –“

“He was enhanced!” He yelled, annoyed they were all so ready to discard the possibility that the person in the video could be Peter when it very clearly was. “Is! He is enhanced! I was never able to measure just how far his healing factor went, Friday could only estimate with the amount of information we had at the time, but clearly–“

“Tony, listen–“

“No, you listen! You listen to me, okay? That’s my fiance! I’m telling you this, that is the man I love, the man I sworn to protect and then abandoned for six fucking months assuming he was dead, when I didn’t even try to look for him! I just fucking drank my days away when I could be looking for him and now he needs my fucking help! So you can either help me find him, or you can fuck the fuck off, ok?” He was breathless by the time he was done, and they all looked at him like he’d gone insane for good.

“What do you suppose happened?” Steve asked quietly, and Tony frowned. “What do you think could have happened in these past few months that would turn Peter into that?” He pointed at the screen. “If he was alive this whole time, why not look for you?”

“I don’t know, Steve, we’ll have to ask him.” Truth was, Tony was terrified of the answers to those questions. He couldn’t think about it at that moment, he had to find him first. “What happened to Barnes? You of all people –“ He didn’t need to finish the sentence, couldn’t. He sighed and Steve flinched, eyes growing wide as the familiarity of the situation seemed to dawn on him. “Do you think you could’ve mistaken him for someone else? Ever?” Tony’s eyes were burning, but he didn’t shed a tear, he didn’t have time for tears. He needed to find him.

Steve was stunned silent after that, watching Tony with huge, watery eyes.

“Tony, we just don’t want you to get hurt,” Bruce intervened again, approaching him carefully. “We don’t want you to go through the pain of losing him again in case...”

“It’s doesn’t get any worse than this, Bruce,” Tony sighed, because he knew that nothing could hurt more than the thought that he’d failed Peter. That he didn’t try to look for him. That Peter had been held captive by a fucking terrorist organization for six months because he was too drunk to get out of bed and fucking try to look for him. Because he just lost hope and never thought Peter might be out there, waiting for him to come, to save him. “There’s nowhere else to go but up, from where I’m standing.”

Nobody said anything else after that, but later that day he got a message from Steve saying they would find Peter.

***

He was in the hospital for three days after Peter’s death. He was a fifty-year-old man with a shitty heart, after all. He was sedated for most of it, whenever he woke up he was so out of his mind with grief that they put him right back to sleep. When he was finally able to go home, he insisted he was left alone, but to calm Pepper and Rhodey down, he activated Friday’s babysitter protocol. It was Peter’s creation. It would let them know if Tony wasn’t eating well, or if he harmed himself in any way. If he tried to deactivate it, it would notify them immediately.

So he was left alone, at least most of the time. He spent his days in the lab, drinking, working, crying, thinking. The memories came and went unsolicited, specially when Tony was too out of it to control them. Suddenly, he’d be back in the boy’s dorm room in Boston, looking at that ridiculous onesie that he hid in a box of books under his bed, watching him stutter as he tried to explain it was just a cosplay.

“A cosplay of some dude who does stunts on Youtube?” Tony raised a brow, amused, and Peter’s face grew red as he scrunched up his nose and frowned in annoyance.

“He’s not some dude doing stunts, he – he’s helping people!” He argued, taking the “suit” back from Tony’s hands and stuffing it under his tiny bed, before sitting on top of it.

“Sure, if you consider doing back flips for the camera helping people, then Spider-boy is doing great,” Tony shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, only to watch him grow even more irritated.

“Man! Spider-man! And I don’t just do back flips, I– He...” He stuttered and Tony took pity on him. His expression softened and he sat next to him on the bed, feeling the tension coming in waves from him as he muttered a quiet “fuck” under his breath.

“Peter, I know. I know. Okay?” He clasped a hand on his shoulder and the young man looked at him with huge, round eyes. Scared. Unsure. “I’ve been watching you for years. Your secret is safe with me. I’m not here to expose you.”

“Then why are you here?” He raised a brow and Tony took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts.

“I kinda picked up a fight with Captain America about signing some papers and then he met this friend who was supposed to be dead, like, eighty years ago, but is somehow alive and possibly a mass murderer? Now I need all the help I can get to fix it.” He winced and watched the boy’s face for his reaction, but he just raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a few seconds as Peter looked around the room, then back at Tony.

“So when do we leave?”

That was the thing about Peter. He trusted Tony blindingly, he never asked too many questions before jumping headfirst into whatever the older man proposed him. No matter how crazy, how inconsequential, how inappropriate. So he wasn’t too surprised when the boy said yes when he asked him out.

They had just arrived at the compound after Strange teleported them back from Titan, they hadn’t even showered yet, they were both covered in bruises and blood, but he looked at Peter and couldn’t help but think he could have lost him. They could have died, and he would have died without knowing the answer to the question that had been sitting at the back of his throat for months by then, which was–

“Yes,” Peter nodded, a faint blush taking over his dirty and bruised cheeks, and Tony blinked a few times.

“Don’t you want to think about that for a minute?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, and Peter frowned.

“Um, no? Why?”

“Because you’re twenty and I’m twenty-seven years your senior, kid.” It was terrifying to say that out loud. Peter was twenty. Tony was forty-seven. Twenty-seven years separated them. Tony was full grown man when Peter was swimming around in his father’s testicles.

“You just asked me out, you can’t call me kid anymore, I’m sure that’s written in some rulebook somewhere.” Even though he was still blushing, he found it in himself to be sassy and annoying. Tony rolled his eyes playfully.

“Fair enough. So, should I call you later?” He pointed over his shoulder, signaling that he was going to his quarters to shower and rest for a few hours. Peter frowned.

“For what?”

“For your answer? About that date?” Peter just looked at him like he’d asked the most stupid question ever.

“I just said yes.” He said, raising an eyebrow, and Tony sighed.

“I thought we agreed you’d think harder about it.”

“Uh, no, you just chickened out for a second there, but my answer is still yes.” He shrugged with a playful smile on his lips and Tony gawked at him.

“I didn’t chic – ugh, you’re such a brat.”

“I’m sure brat is off-limits, too.” He winked, walking away towards his quarters.

Tony worried about their relationship – as did everyone else, specially their close friends and May. Peter was so young and, to make matters worse, he sort of worked for Tony. Ever since Germany, the older man paid him a hefty salary for being a part of the team – he was always on call, after all, and always trained at the compound whenever he was in New York.

But as it turned out, his worry was unnecessary. Although young, Peter was mature beyond his years and acted more like an adult than Tony did most of the time – they sort of met in the middle. As for the power imbalance, it actually felt like Peter was in control more often than not. It was subtle, though, Tony only noticed because Rhodey pointed it out once.

“That kid’s got you wrapped around his little finger.” He laughed into his beer bottle as he watched Peter walking away. Tony blinked, having a sip of the tea the younger man had just brought him. Peter was dead set on getting him on a healthier diet and tea was somehow involved. The young man insisted it would help with his sleeping schedule, so Tony just agreed, even though he thought most teas tasted like dirty water. “If he says jump, you ask how high.” Tony was going to argue, but then stopped himself. He tried to think of the last time he’d said no to Peter, the last time he’d denied him anything, but not a single memory came to mind. “I’m not judging, it’s a good look on you. Whipped boyfriend.”

Tony noticed, then, that he was. Whipped, that is. Peter was always telling him what to do – gently, of course, and always with his best interests at heart. And he listened, because, as it soon became apparent, Peter was usually right about most things. Tony was more practical, he was in charge in the lab, what with decades of experience over him, as well as in the battlefield, for the same reason. But when it came to their personal lives, Peter called the shots. And it was fine. It was good. He felt loved and cared for like never before and he loved it. He loved Peter.

But he’d lost him.

And he couldn’t help but feeling guilty. It was his fault, had to be. He was in charge out there. He was supposed to look out for him in the field, he was supposed to keep him safe, bring him home alive and well, but he couldn’t even bring his fucking body back. He had nothing left of him but terrifying memories of cold, dead eyes and bloody lips trying to call out his name.

Days and weeks and months went by, but he barely noticed, barely left the tower anymore. He was vaguely aware of people coming and going – Pepper, to check on him from time to time; Rhodey, trying to get him out of the lab; Steve, with constant reports on what the Avengers were doing, as if he cared; Bruce, with excuses about projects he was working on; and Nat, for unclear reasons. They never asked him to suit up, though, not for anything. Not in a Tom Ford three-piece, not in Mark L. They just let him be. Which was good, it felt good to be forgotten up there in the workshop, which used to be their favorite place in the world.

Over those three years they’d been together, Tony had taken Peter everywhere – and he meant everywhere. A boy who had barely left Queens before he met Tony got to see so may different cities, so many different countries, even if just for one night sometimes, just for dinner, before they had to get back to their hectic lives.

But they always went back to their favorite place, Tony’s workshop, filled with so many memories it sometimes felt like it was haunted by their ghosts. Both of them. Because some part of Tony must have died with him and sometimes, when he got distracted, he saw them. Specially on the floor by the couch, that was too tiny for the two of them and Tony kept saying he was going to buy a bigger one, but for some reason he never did and they always ended up on the fluffy rug on the floor.

“You feel amazing,” Tony whispered as his fingers enveloped Peter’s hips, pulling him down lower, and the younger man moaned quietly and smiled as the words left Tony’s lips. He leaned forwards to kiss him as rocked his hips in a slow, lazy pace. “You are perfect, my love.”

“If you keep feeding my praise kink like that, I’m not gonna last two minutes here.” He laughed quietly against the older man’s lips, who sighed when he felt the boy’s muscles tightening around him.

“I won’t complain too much about it.” He tightened his grip on Peter’s hips when he sat back up and started moving up and down in a way he knew would drive the engineer insane. “You’re gonna kill this old man someday, I swear.”

“I really hope not, I kinda like him a little.”

And their ghosts giggled together and disappeared into thin air, like dust in the wind, and only a half-dead Tony remained with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at the rug on the floor.

***

Friday was monitoring the press and the internet for any sign of Peter, but there was none to be found. For the first couple of days, Tony was restless, but hopeful. Peter had been missing for six months, there hadn’t been any sign of him for all of that time, so the fact that he appeared out of the blue that day meant that something had changed. He was sure he would show up again at any second.

As days went by, though, his hope started to dwindle. He grew desperate by the hour thinking that he would have to go another six months without seeing Peter, perhaps even longer – perhaps he’d never see him again. Sometimes he wondered if he was wrong, if that wasn’t even Peter in the video, if maybe he was really dead after all, but whenever he watched the video again he was sure of it. It was him.

So he couldn’t help but think that he had to be locked up somewhere. It brought back terrifying memories of those three months he spent in that cave in Afghanistan and how he never really recovered from that – he still had nightmares about it, twelve years later. Peter had been gone for six months, seventeen days, four hours and thirty-three minutes. And counting.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, the only thing he could think about was Peter, and the cave, and Barnes’s sessions with BARF, and Hydra’s brainwashing methods. He drove himself mad with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Peter – what might be happening right at that second as he waited for answers.

He’d been awake for almost sixty-two hours straight when it happened.

“I think you should see this, boss.” Friday’s voice interrupted the loud music and Tony frowned as he raised his eyes from his latest project – a new suit for Peter, one so sophisticated and impenetrable, not even vibranium could pierce through it. Friday wasn’t supposed to interrupt him unless the world was ending or she had news about Peter, Tony was very specific about that, so, yeah, he was a little freaked out when he heard her voice.

She showed him footage of Stark Tower’s security cameras, Tony’s heart almost stopped when he saw the boy sneaking in through a window, along with Fish-bowl-guy.

“He’s here.” He whispered to himself, unable to move for a second. His first instinct was to run to him, but he couldn’t be irresponsible, there were lots of people in the building, he couldn’t predict what could happen, so he had to take a few precautions. “Friday, where’s Pepper?”

“Miss Potts is not in the building, she’s caught in traffic a few miles away, boss.” Tony nodded to himself, taking a deep breath, then he started moving.

“Evacuate the building immediately, but don’t cause a panic, I don’t want them to know I know they’re here. Call Pepper, tell her to stay away. Where are they headed?” As he barked out orders, he watched Peter climb into the vents.

“They seem to be heading to the mainframe, boss.”

“Revoke Peter’s access to the systems,” Tony rushed to the elevator, the mainframe was situated right below his penthouse, it took up the whole floor and there was no way in or out other than the elevators and the air vents.

“Done, boss.”

Tony’s heart was beating wildly in his chest, filled with mixed feelings. He was going to see Peter for the first time in six months, after he literally rose from the dead – he’d gone to his funeral, for Christ’s sake – but it wouldn’t be a heartwarming reunion. He knew Peter wasn’t himself. Something had happened to him and he wasn’t okay, he was worried about what might happen, but the anxiety to see him again in person after so long was stronger than anything else.

He activated Mark L and when the door to the elevator opened, the room was quiet. It was huge, the light was low and blueish, there were at list seventeen rows of processors from one end of the room to the other, and Tony knew that at the very back, in a corner, there was a computer. He walked down the aisles quietly until he saw them. Peter had his back to him, but there was no mistaking the line of his shoulders, his neck, the way he stood, his quick fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Peter...” It came out as a sigh, but it was loud enough for both of them to hear and turn to him. For the first time, Fish-bowl-guy had his helmet off and Tony could see his face – the same face that took Peter away from him months earlier. “You!” He stalked towards them, but Peter webbed his feet together. Tony could easily break it, but stopped in his tracks, he didn’t want it to escalate to a fight. “What are you doing, Pete?”

“How dare you talk to him, Stark! After everything you’ve done?” Those eyes were so familiar, but he couldn’t place them. Tony frowned, taking a step closer, breaking the webs around his ankles.

“What– Pete –”

“You revoked my access?” Peter asked, exasperated and nervous when the computer announced his access was denied. That voice. That sweet, honey-like voice...

“So it is you.” Tony took yet another step closer, reaching out to him, but Peter got into a fighting stance.

“Why did you have to do that?” To Tony’s surprise, his voice trembled, like he was actually hurt by that. His heart broke in a million pieces. “You used to love me, you said–“ He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “You leave me no choice.”

“Peter, please–“ Before he could say anything else, the younger man leaped at him and almost managed to rip the faceplate off his face as he sat on his shoulders and started pulling it, but Tony was able to grab him and throw him away, but not far enough to hurt him. He stumbled a few feet and got right back up. “Pete, what are you doing, just stop!”

“No! You stop, Tony, please! How could you–“ He came at him again, and Tony flew out of the his way, but was caught by his web around his ankle. Peter swung him and threw him to the floor, but Tony quickly got up. “Please, Tony, you –“

“Don’t talk to him, Pete, he’s gonna try to manipulate you! We have to kill him, there’s no other choice!” Fish-bowl-guy was typing furiously at the keyboard, but Friday was keeping Tony updated. He was good, definitely above average, but he probably wouldn’t be able to hack into his systems. “Once we’re done, we can’t let him live, Peter.”

“What the fuck is he talking about! Kid, it’s me, it’s me, what are you doing?” Tony tried to reach Peter again, but he shot webs at him, trying to tie his arms to his torso, which was useless. The engineer knew Peter was going easy on him, he was almost as strong as Mark L and if the suit he was wearing was anything like the one Tony made for him, it had an instant kill mode. Still, he kept trying to bind him, not hurt him.

“I can’t let you release Extremis to the public! Please, I’m begging you, let me help you, we can–“ Fish-bowl-guy grabbed Peter’s arm, pulling him away and shaking him.

“Peter, stop fucking around! He’s dangerous!”

“Don’t fucking touch him!“ Tony had had it with him, he charged his repulsors and was going to aim right at his head, but for a short while, the room went dark, then when the lights came back up, only Peter was there. He had his mask off and, for a moment, Tony was free to breath. For the first time in months, he could fill his lungs up with air because his beautiful face was right there in front of him, within reach. Alive, healthy.

And staring at him with hatred.

“You’re disgusting, Tony. How could you do that to me? You groomed me, you sick fuck, I was just a boy, you molested me!” He started walking towards him and Tony blinked in shock.

“What?”

“You’re a good for nothing piece of shit, you left me for dead months ago, didn’t even come looking for me, I bet you found some younger ass to fuck, didn’t you? You old perv.” Tony took a few steps back, heart beating loudly in his ears. He’d never seen such hate in his eyes in all those years they were together.

“Pete...”

“You came after me because you couldn’t find someone your own age who would put up with your crap, right? The drinking, the nightmares, the fucking panic attacks, I was so fucking done with it! All of it!” He couldn’t believe his ears, Peter – he would never talk to him like that. Right? Or was that how he felt the whole time? “Give me access to EDITH, Tony.” He demanded and Tony frowned. EDITH was an AI that gave its users access to Stark Industries's global satellite network along with an arsenal of missiles and drones. It was only supposed to be used in case of Tony’s death, Peter knew that. “If you want to redeem yourself, you’ll do it, and I might forgive you.”

“Boss, I think you should see something,” Before Tony could answer, Friday activated the suit’s thermal imaging and Tony frowned. Peter was not standing in front of him. In fact, he was nowhere to be found and there was nobody where he stood just seconds ago. First, he panicked, thinking he had disappeared again, but it just took him five seconds to realize what was going on.

“Where is this hologram coming from, Fri?” Friday deactivated the thermal imaging and Tony was shocked by how realistic the Peter staring back at him was. So realistic that only one person in the whole world could have made it: himself.

“There are five drones projecting images in the room, sir.”

“Take them out.”

In seconds, five tiny missiles were launched from his suit and the drones fell to the floor, lifeless, and suddenly the whole room changed. It was still the same setting, but it somehow looked more real then, and of course, Peter had disappeared.

“Tony? Tony, where did you go?! What – what happened?” He heard Peter’s voice on the other end of the room and he rushed to get there.

Peter was curled up in a corner, looking scared and desperate as he looked around him in confusion. The other guy was kneeling next to him, trying to comfort him again.

“Pete, whatever he showed you, whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. He’s using BARF!” He tried to approach the young man, but his eyes were wild as he shook his head. He pushed the other guy away but kept crawling backwards, away from Tony as well.

“Stay away from me, please, don’t come any closer. I-I don’t wanna hurt you, please, Tony, please...” He was still looking around like he didn’t expect to still be there.

“Why do you always have to ruin every-fucking-thing, Stark? Why do you have to stand in the fucking way of every single thing that I do?” Fish-bowl-guy got up and started marching towards him, furious.

“I have no fucking idea who you are, you fucking weirdo.” Tony aimed his repulsors at him and the guy stopped, laughing incredulously.

“You hav – you motherfucker! You think you’re a God, don’t you? Above everything and everyone, literally wrapped in wealth and technology you’re unfit to wield. Like the holographic system I designed. A revolutionary breakthrough with limitless applications, that you turned into a self therapy machine and renamed it BARF! My life’s work, Stark, and you renamed it BARF! I told you it was a mistake, that my technology could change the world and then you fired me. You said I was… unstable. Ring any bells?”

It clicked, then. The crazy, wild eyes, the hand gestures, the insane world domination plans.

“Beck.” No wonder Tony had forgot about him, the guy was brilliant, but completely insane. He helped develop the technology behind BARF, but once he started talking about weaponizing it, Tony decided to let him go. “I didn’t steal it, it belonged to me, it was my idea, I made you head of the project because I thought you could see it through, but your ideas for what it could be used for were clearly unhealthy and a fucking threat to the world. So, yeah, not sorry for firing your ass, I was clearly right. What even is your endgame here, Beck? What do you want?”

“These days, you can be the smartest guy in the room, the most qualified, and no one cares. Unless you’re flying around with a cape or shooting lasers from your hands, no one will even listen. Well, now I’ve got a cape. And lasers. With my technology and with EDITH, I will be the greatest hero on Earth!” He spread his arms and laughed like the madman he was, and Tony frowned.

“Yeah? Where are your lasers now?” The guy looked at him like he had just realized he had nothing. Peter was curled in a corner, too confused to act, his drones lay limp on the floor, and he had no way out of the room. “Better luck next time, asshole.” Tony wanted to kill him, he did, but he controlled himself and just knocked him over the head. He fell heavily to the floor and Tony turned to Peter, who was still looking at him like the whole world had been turned upside down. “Peter, baby, c’mon, it’s me, it’s Tony,” He tried to approach him, but he shook his head violently.

“S-stand back!” He panted, eyes flicking between Tony and the guy on the floor. “What’s happening, I don’t understand, I don’t… We were… Outside and you…You killed people, how…”

“It’s fine, it’s gonna be fine, I promise, just trust me, I will take care of you, I’ll take care of everything, I –“

“Stay away from me!” Peter got up and run towards the elevator, Tony had no choice other than shoot him with the tranquilizer he used on Bruce when he hulked out at the wrong time. He rushed to catch him before he hit the ground and carefully cradled him in his arms.

Finally, in his arms. Warm and alive, solid and breathing.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. For everything. I’ll make it up to you.”

***

Tony startled awake when he heard screaming. His heart almost jumped out of his chest and he was on his feet in a matter of seconds the minute he registered it was Peter’s voice. He was distressed, possibly hurt, so he flew to his side, but was quickly pushed away by nurses and doctors that rushed into the room and Tony remembered the last 24 hours, where they were and why.

“Tony! Tony!” Peter called as he gasped for air, and that was more than enough for the older man to force his away back to him, grabbing his shaking hand.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here, are you okay?” He asked in a rush looking into his wild, scared eyes, and the kid just looked back at him for a few minutes, blinking several times, before he nodded slowly.

“Are you – are you real?” He rubbed his forehead, panting, and Dr. Cho approached him to run a few tests. Peter had been out for a whole day after the Hulk-sized dose of tranquilizer Tony shot him with, even with his fast metabolism.

“I am. Do you feel that?” He brushed his thumbs across his cheeks and Peter closed his eyes, sighing and nodding slowly. Tony took his hands and pressed them to his own face, down his scratchy cheeks that hadn’t seen a razor in weeks, and Peter smiled. “It’s me, I’m here now, it’s over.” Tony explained to him as doctor Cho checked his blood pressure and his pulse, asked him a few questions, then once she was satisfied, she nodded.

“You’re okay, Peter. You just need a lot of rest, ok? Most of your wounds from the fight have already healed, but I’m going to keep you here overnight just to be sure, then you can go right home, ok?” He nodded and she smiled. “Welcome back.”

She left the room and silence took over for a second, but they still looked at each other, as if afraid that if the looked away the other would disappear. Nat had interrogated Beck and figured out his plan. The terrorist attack was an ambush, it was his goal to kidnap Peter all along, he knew he was the only person, besides Tony, who had access to EDITH.

He made them see Peter’s death as he kidnapped him with an illusion of Tony. He was holding Peter in a warehouse in Queens and the sad thing was, he didn’t even need anything to contain him. He kept him there with illusions. Peter thought he was at Stark Tower the whole tome, living with Tony as if nothing had changed.

Well, with a few changes. Beck’s Tony was slowly going mad, called himself Superior Iron man and planned to take over humanity by spreading a virus called Extremis 3.0. When Peter refused to help him, he was turned into a hostage. Peter was “Tony’s hostage” for months before Beck “rescued him” – by keeping him in the same warehouse, with different illusions. He managed to make him believe the Avengers were in on Tony’s plan and they had to stop them. The bank robbery was necessary to weaponize the few drones he was able to build after he left Stark Industries.

“How… How are you feeling, Pete?” He braced himself for the answer, because he knew it would be nothing short of horrible and he knew that whatever happened to him was his fault. The younger man bit his lower lip, frowned, and shook his head slightly.

“Confused. Scared.” He confessed, tearing up, but he kept holding Tony’s hand tightly. “Not sure if any of this is even real. If you are real.”

Tony could see that he meant it when he looked into his eyes. He was terrified. The older man took a deep breath and sat beside him on the bed.

“Do you remember our trip to Brazil?” He placed Peter’s hand on his own face again, kissing its palm. Peter nodded with a small smile. “Remember our last night there, on the hotel suite’s balcony? We had been together for, what, two, three months at the time? Remember what I said to you?” A tear ran down his cheek when he whispered yes. “I’m gonna marry you someday, kid.” Tony whispered back, joining their foreheads.

“And I said you couldn’t call me kid when you were making marriage plans.” Peter laughed wetly between tears, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on Tony’s lips, sighing in relief. “I should have known that could have never been you…” Peter’s hand slid from Tony’s cheek, to his shoulder, down his arm, until it reached the little cuts on his hands, the rough pads of his fingers. Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “How long?”

Peter didn’t have to ask the whole question, Tony heard it, and he squeezed his hand.

“Six months.” He winced when Peter’s eyes grew large as saucers.

“Fuck... Fuck! Tony – I feel so stupid… I should have known, I should have fucking –“

“Hey, hey, don’t, don’t you dare blame yourself, you hear me? He fooled us all, Pete. The reason why I didn’t come looking for you before was because... For six months, I thought you dead.” He cradled his face in his hands and Peter gasped.

“Oh, God, Tony.”

“I saw you die, Pete,” He whispered, lowering his head so Peter didn’t have to see his tears. “I saw you die before my eyes. And I – I believed it, too. I never went after you, kid. I’m so sorry, I could have saved you, but I–“ before he could finish, he felt the boy’s fingers under his chin, lifting his head, and he was met with an equally wet face staring back at him.

“I’m here, now. And so are you. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

“Pete...”

There were no more comforting words to say other than his name. The name he hadn’t dared to say for so many months. He knew they had a long way to go, he could predict the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the anxiety attacks, the absolute terror of thinking of ever losing him again. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but they were going to do it together, they would heal together and relearn how to recognize each other blindly once again. One step at a time.

#starker #canon-compliant #sorta #cssprompts

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selinakidreams · 3 years

Text

year six at hogsmeade

ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! This fic is for the @haikyuucreationsadm secret santa event! dedicated to @ichorizaki ! sol, I hope this gives you the warm fuzzies!

genre: fluff

warnings: none!

tags: harry potter au!, gn! reader, friends to lovers, yams is a lil over protective, fake dating (if you squint really really hard), yamaguchi’s pov !

a/n: no i do not hate the character i put as the slytherin (i’m not gonna spoil anything <3 teehee) i did it almost as an easter egg ...? like if you remember how yams reacted when he heard a certian thing come from his mouth,,,,,,, you’ll understand why- the clip was playing in my head on repeat while writing it lmao (super vauge ik but ah ha haa)

Both of your school capes sashae across the cold stoned floor as you two head to the one class you had together. The air was nippy; delicate flakes of snow danced around the sky until they landed on the ground. Yamaguchi hugged his books closer to his chest in hopes to ease the lack of warmth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you nuzzle into your silver and green scarf that was already bundled up to your nose.

‘Cute,’ he thought to himself- and when it comes to you, that word comes up in his head quite a lot.

Far from being his favorite class, Yamaguchi Tadashi had to get used to the defense against the dark arts course. It was very… out there for him in the beginning. By pushing his limits, it created a wave of self-consciousness that would wash over him, resulting in the feeling of incompetence. Thankfully you were there to encourage and support him, just as you had been since the day you guys met. It was something about your strength and determination- he learned that through the years when you had an idea, a goal, or a project in mind, you would see it through. It was so inspiring to young Yamaguchi, the little boy constantly cowering away from anything that seemed too much. He would constantly be picked on and could never speak the words that clogged his throat but then you came along with a single snarky remark to end all of theirs. There was no time between the moment he words left your lips and when your hand slipped into his- pulling him away from any sense of loneliness he would ever feel again. You were there for all the big moments, from when he first got his letter to him getting sorted into Gryffindor to him trying out for their quidditch team. You two had been absolutely inseparable and neither of you would change a thing.

Yamaguchi cherished walking to class with you- the way you fit so well in the environment… he just couldn't take his eyes off of you. His favorite version of you was in the winter because you just looked so much cozier. The dark colors of your house heavily contrasted against the bright sparkling snow that reflected natural light into the corridor. The pink that tinted the tips of your ears made his heart skip a beat. If it hadn't been for you stopping by the opened door way, he would have completely missed the entrance to the classroom because of his… observations. He motioned you go in first, your eyes crinkled in thanks as you stepped inside and he swears that you caused a heart palpitation.

It was your guy’s sixth year at Hogwarts and by far Tadashi's favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts course yet. The teacher, Remus Lupin, had such a way of teaching that it was not only fun and interactive, but also incredibly informative- the prime way for him to learn. He was so happy that Lupin’s tactics were sticking, this meant he didn't have to cling to you for help as he had previously; He was able to show you that he was capable of being strong on his own. Whenever you showed your delight at Tadashi’s progress, he only wanted to work harder.

“Hey so… after class, did you want to go to Hogsmeade and get something to drink from Honeyduke’s? It’s all snowy out and it’s the perfect weather for something warm and comforting.” You grinned as the both of you took your seats, conveniently across from each other, the only thing that separated you two was a slim isle way. Yamaguchi turned to you with a small smile curving his lips, “Yea, sounds good but just remember I have practice later so I can't be out too la-“ his last word was cut off by an obnoxious scoff from the keeper from the Slytherin quidditch team.

“That was supposed to be our practice, you know. Daichi snatched up our usual practice time.” Koganegawa Kanji said snottily, judgmentally eyeing Tadashi up and down before turning his gaze to you. Suddenly there was a different type of look in his eyes, a bright one that showed that he believed he could secure all sorts of things… including you. “Those Gryffindors think they can take whatever they want, but I know what we're going to be taking. The win at our next game… which just so happens to be against Gryffindor. You’re going to be there, right y/n?” He practically beamed to you as he kept side-eyeing Yamaguchi.

Before you could even answer- before he could even realize what was coming out of his mouth- your shy, kind hearted, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Tadashi rolled his eyes and said, “Yea they’re going, they’re going to be screaming out my name when I catch that snitch.”

Your eyes widened as you turned to him with your jaw slack, the sexual innuendo in the forefront of your mind but when facing your freckled best friend, it looked like he couldn't believe he was able to even speak up. Yamaguchi is not one for confrontation or someone who initiates fights… but when things come down to you, he acts in ways he doesn’t recognize- for painfully obvious reasons.

“You better watch that mouth of yours, Yamaguchi, or else i might just have to zip it up.” The Slytherin hissed, getting ready to reach for his want but stopped in his tracks when his gaze caught sight of a scruffy man in his mid 30’s standing behind the frozen Gryffindor, hands in his pockets and a brow raised.

“Now… I know you were not about to hex mister Yamaguchi inside of my class, right Mister Koganegawa?” Professor Lupin tempted, a small smirk danced on his lips with the unmissable glint of entertainment that twinkled in his warm eyes.

The professor didn’t give the boy a chance to answer, instead turned around and headed to the front of the classroom while saying, “Return to your seat Koganegawa, I expect whatever hex you were going to cast was going to be a naughty one. Well ironically, today’s lesson is focused on learning to reflect those nasty curses…” The whole class settled in for the lecture as Tadashi sneaked a peak at the reaction that had been plastered on your face- boy, was it a cute one. Both of your lips curled in with saucer eyes, cheeks tinted a faint red, as if you were holding back a laugh that was forcing its way out.

<♥︎>

After Lupin bid the class adue for the day, everyone went their separate ways; Tadashi held you close as you both headed to Hogsmeade, his arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned into him for warmth. The walk had been a comfortable silence until you spoke out your curiosity to break the ice, hitting him with the million dollar question.

“Hey, what happened back in Lupin’s class? That was.. odd.. of you to say.” You inquired. Normally when you catch Tadashi off guard or in a vulnerable state, a cute blush dusts along the apple of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You knew you were robbed of the sight, the cold had beat you to it, a violent scarlet already bared his skin.

He let out a sigh, the breath showing itself in the cold, before he muttered, “I’m just tired of him openly ogling at you like you’re some toy. It’s not cool.”

You responded with a slight hum, the real reply bouncing off the walls of your brain: I can't believe we’re not together by now.

“Oh yams,” you chuckle as you huddle closer into his side.

<♥︎>

Passing under the grand Hogsmeade archway, he was grateful that there were barely any students about- this meant you guys could get your drinks faster and walk around the shops easier. With the antique green and pink building in sight, the beeline to the shop’s entrance was determined.

“Okay okay, let me guess…” you started as Yamaguchi held open the door for you to walk in, already eyeing the colorful treats that decorated the room, “you want a hot chocolate.”

“And you want a hot strawberry tea.” Tadashi retorted with a smile.

“It’s almost like… we’ve known each other for years.” You say, your tone dripping in sarcasm as he watches your finger trace over the newest candy they sold.

Sol, a sweet that’ll brighten your day! The container said, with a picture of what looked to be an edible ball of light. Supposedly, once it hits your tongue, it melts into the flavor you're craving most.

After inspecting the shelves around the store for any new and exciting treats, you both headed to the register where Tadashi placed the drinks order and fished out two golden galeons and five silver sickles. He snuck a glance at you admiring the brightly colored walls to make sure you weren't looking as he slipped the cashier the two packets of sol he stealthily grabbed and handed them three extra sickles. A sweet surprise for later.

Leaving the store, Yamaguchi watched the way your hands slipped around the warm cup, the tips of your fingers slightly intertwined. He wanted nothing more than to take your cup out of your hands and intermingle his fingers with yours…but he couldn’t, it would be crossing a line, wouldn’t it? Nevertheless, the image of holding your- probably- freezing hand was on his mind the whole time you two were walking around the village you knew all too well.

Deciding that it was pretty late you guys began to head back to the castle. The snow crunched underneath your boots with almost empty cups in your hands, you knew it wasn't going to take long before you’d be greeted by the back entrance of the castle. “‘Dashi… do you have to go to practice? I… i need help with Lupin’s coursework.” you stutter out, causing Yamaguchi to pause and turn toward you.

This took him by surprise, normally you were really good with your coursework, so for the roles to switch… something had to be off.

“ y/n... You know I can't. The team said they really need me there. Daichi would have my head if I missed practice. The game against Slytherin is so close and I really need to-” he cut himself off before he could reveal too much or get too annoyed, the flash of Koganegawa smirking flashed in the back of his mind.

“you need to… what? I saw your last game and the way you soared through the air was incredible, it didn't seem like you needed to work on anything!” you pouted with damn wide eyes.

Tadashi tried to ignore the slight increase in his heart's beating pace, “aha well..” he said as he lifted his arm to scratch the back of his head, “we’re a team and they need me as much as i need them!” you stopped walking so he turned to face you.

He watched the small sad smile creep onto your face before hearing you mutter, “Jeez, when did my Tadashi become so popular?”

For Yamaguchi to not lean in and plant a kiss on your lips, something had to be holding him back... but there was nothing- if anything, you seemed to slightly lean in.

He figured that you'd assume that the first move was going to be on your part, as it normally was when something serious would happen between the two of you but he wanted to prove to you that he's changed. He's not scared anymore. He has no reason to be. He’s learned so much about himself throughout the years because of you. You're the reason he was the social person he was today. And he was the one that finally connects your lips with his.

Due to the cold and dry winter, both lips are not as smooth as wanted but it doesn't stop him from deepening the long awaited kiss. He placed his open palms on your waist and his fingers gave you a small squeeze when he heard you sigh into the kiss.

When Yamaguchi felt your arms around his neck, he swore the world stopped turning for a second. The warmth that he was feeling was unmatched- this was warmer than any other winter coat had made him.

When he pulled away, your arms stayed around his neck and he refused to let his hands leave your waist.

“I uh-“ at this point Yamaguchi’s face was bright pink, yours being no different, “um I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” You said, cutting him off.

Tadashi had to blink a few times, as if he was clearing his vision because what he just heard wasn’t possible.

“N-no way…” he mumbled, looking at the ground next to you. Tadashi almost felt overwhelmed but one thing's for certain, the weight of needing to properly confess was only getting heavier so he gulped down his anxiety- as you had taught him so many times before- and brought his eyes to meet yours.

“Y/n… I’m so in love with you. I have been for so long-”

Something red wizzed before your guys’ eyes, cutting off his huge confession. His eyes became wide at the hovering letter facing him.

A howler.

Before you could even raise an eyebrow, the letter opened itself in the shape of an origami mouth.

“Yamaguchi, YOU ARE LATE FOR PRACTICE! WHY? WHAT COULD BE SO IMPORTANT THAT IT’S CAUSING YOU TO MISS PRACTICE?” the letter with daichi’s deep voice boomed around the empty of the woods. It began to look around, as if it could see the surrounding area- which was weird because typically howlers were only used to relay a (very loud and disappointed) message. When the envelope eventually faced you, the bottom of the mouth dropped and seemed to gulp.

“Ah.. i see.. Hi y/n… um,” the letter turned to face Yamaguchi before reminding him to go to practice and ripping itself apart.

It was silent for a second, neither of you knew what to say.

“I dunno but it almost sounded like Daichi wanted me to go to practice.” was the first thing he said. He watched your face contort from a small smile to a full out grin joined with a hearty laugh.

“Let's get you to class ‘Dashi.” you said as you wound down from your laughing fit. Holding out your hand, the expression you gave him was one that he never saw from you before. The corner of his eyes crinkled with how genuine he was smiling as he took your hand, finally getting to entwine your fingers together as you guys headed to the quidditch field.

Ps. yes you did scream out his name when he caught the snitch- it didn't go unnoticed...

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taeyongdoyoung · 4 years

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summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, angst, fantasy

author’s note: why am i writing sm abt yeosang, this is supposed to be a seongjoongyn fic lmao; anygays, yeosang said polyamory rights

warnings: hongjoong suffers. a lot. but will make up for it later, i promise; insecurities; jealousy; blood only mentioned like once; possessiveness

word count: 1.5k (a bit shorter than usual cuz uni is a bitch and i have zero free time but wanted to update)

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You swam towards the surface together with your sister Soojin. She had finally talked you into meeting up with those pirates once again. You didn’t what to admit it to her, but you were pretty excited. You were curious to find out more about them. Even though they were humans. Or maybe because of that.

Every braincell in your mermaid body was telling you to swim away from this situation and never look back. But your foolish heart was swimming further, deeper into danger.

“There’s the ship!” Soojin screamed eagerly, pointing in the distance.

“You’re right,” you responded flatly, somewhat awestruck by the way it looked at twilight. The pink sky was painting its sails like magic. As the yellow sun was setting into the sea, you could only think one thing: you had never seen such beauty before in your life. And it scared you that you were already so attached to this new world.

“Come on,” Soojin urged you, swimming way ahead of you.

Your tail had a mind of its own as you followed her, not even bothering to object. You were in too deep. Which was ironic, considering you were swimming across the sea surface, its true depths long forgotten.

“Yeosang!” Soojin sang the boy’s name and started knocking onto the wooden ship. “Come out, you punk! I travelled a long way just to see you.”

Soon enough, the blonde pirate you’d briefly noticed earlier showed up.

“Soojin!” he beamed happily and jumped into the water without thinking twice. “I missed you.”

“Me too, silly,” Soojin stroked his hair sweetly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You felt as if you were intruding by witnessing their blossoming relationship, so you looked away from them awkwardly.

“You keeping the ring I gave you safe?” Yeosang asked your sister.

“Of course. You trust me?”

Yeosang nodded.

“Even though I only just met you.”

Soojin smiled and buried her head into his chest. You were looking away but something made you curiously sneak a peak or two at them every once in a while. Yeosang’s attention was suddenly on you.

“Did you come to see Seonghwa?” he inquired.

“N-no,” you quickly responded. “I just came to make sure you delinquents wouldn’t hurt my Soojin or something.”

Yeosang scoffed loudly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You groaned in annoyance.

“You want me to call Seonghwa? I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you again.”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” you answered ambiguously.

“Be right back,” Yeosang promised and started climbing in an experienced manner back onto the ship.

“Hey, don’t leave me!” Soojin complained.

“Will return in the blink of an eye, love.”

“You better!” Soojin threatened vaguely. “Or else!”

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I spoke honestly to Y/N.

“You and me both,” she replied coldly.

“You didn’t want to see me again?” I asked her in a sad voice.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Soojin dragged me here.”

“Purely against your will?” I suggested.

“Well…I suppose a small part of me was curious…”

“About?”

“You could have just thanked me and that’s it. End of story. You didn’t have to go out of your way to show me all these delicious fruits and spend all this time around me. So…why did you do it?”

“I suppose I was curious, too.”

“About?” Y/N repeated, mocking my voice.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” I responded cleverly, hoping she would fall for the trick and really choose to stay.

“Does it have to be that difficult?” she wanted to know.

“What’s difficult about it? You’re a mermaid and can swim whenever and wherever you want to. I’m a pirate and our ship can go anywhere at any time. It’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”

Y/N shook her head, apparently disagreeing with me.

“You know why I can’t,” she said, her voice strained with pain.

Like I needed a reminder of the woman I’d loved and lost. But maybe, destiny was giving me another choice. To make things right. If not…why had fate decided to send Y/N my way? Could it be a mere coincidence? I didn’t know but I wanted to fight for her.

“How about this…you don’t have to make any promises to stay. But if you’re ever bored, you can swim around the ship and say my name. I’ll answer to your call.”

“What’s with you?” the mermaid chuckled. “Seonghwa.”

“You remembered,” I whispered fondly, suddenly recalling our conversation on the boat.

“I might be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Y/N joked. “So…will your boyfriend scold you for hanging out with me?”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“Oh, please. Last time he was reeking of jealousy.”

“You can smell that shit?”

Y/N laughed.

“What, you thought having a tail was the only perk about being a mermaid?”

“You’re extraordinary,” I panted, suppressing the urge to bring my face closer to hers. This was wrong.

“I so am,” she smirked confidently. “But seriously, we shouldn’t anger him. You said he was the captain, right? Doesn’t that give him…I don’t know, more power over you?”

I shrugged.

“No one holds power over me.”

“Not even your own heart?” Y/N teased and placed her hand on my chest. This was so wrong, I kept telling myself. Hongjoong could see us any minute if he decided to go out of his cabin.

“N-no,” I stammered unconvincingly, as she approached me like a snake, spreading her poison slowly into my blood.

“Liar,” Y/N whispered and I could feel my heart beating faster.

Then, she pulled away as quickly as she’d gotten closer.

“See, that’s why I don’t want anything to do with you humans. Even the slightest word or movement could make you so weak. It’s pathetic, really. Don’t you think?”

“It’s better than being cold. Or not having a heart.”

She was obviously struggling to keep up the charade of not feeling anything. I could see her swallowing on nothing but air as she was trying to figure out what to say or do next. Like it was a game of chess.

“Fish are cold. I’m part-fish, remember?”

“You’re also part-human, remember?” I shot back wittily. “Since you claim to dislike us so much, you might as well reconsider…aren’t you a bit like me?”

“I’m nothing like you,” Y/N spat out, denying her humanity. “The sooner you realize this, the better.”

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be terrified of getting hurt.”

“It’s called self-preservation, you idiot!”

“No. It’s called being human.”

She sighed exasperatedly.

“I’m tired of all this arguing. Let’s just stay here in silence. Please?”

I nodded, finding that silence felt somewhat comforting when I was in her presence. The sun had already set and the moon was shining brightly upon us. Despite the celestial body’s beauty, I could only focus on her. Her face seemed serene but the rest of her was tense. I hesitantly placed my hand on her back. She slightly jumped up in surprise but soon enough, relaxed under my touch. I simply looked at her calmly and expected her to do the same. Maybe this was wrong. But I couldn’t give her up.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

I followed him outside. Quietly. Making myself invisible. It’s what he would have wanted, no? For me not to witness this. Well, what I wanted was make him believe that I hadn’t. But I heard every word. Felt every touch as if it were a dagger in my back. Saw every hidden glance. Even in the dark. Smelt the sea as the wind blew on and on. Tasted the salt on my tongue and the blood as I was biting down on my cheeks to stop myself from screaming. Maybe she was right. I was reeking of jealousy. But I had every right, didn’t I? He had promised something. And even though he hadn’t exactly left, why did it feel like his heart already belonged to someone else? Why did I feel the betrayal shattering my bones like stones being thrown my way? Why was he looking at her like that? I kept repeating to myself that he hadn’t abandoned me, not really. But why did it feel like he had?

My painful thoughts were interrupted by a light touch on my arm. I swiftly turned around, grabbing the hand that had dared approach me. It was Yeosang. I released my hold on him.

“Hyung…don’t torture yourself,” he spoke softly.

“Leave me alone, Yeosang. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“He would never leave you. You know that, right?”

“What does it look like to you, hm?” I questioned him angrily, barely managing to keep my voice down so that Seonghwa and Y/N wouldn’t find out I was eavesdropping.

“There are people who take more than one significant other, you know? That doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

I closed my eyes, because I was afraid he’d see I’d been crying.

“I can’t share him with anyone. It would kill me.”

“But, hyung, can’t you tell he would do anything for you?” Yeosang insisted. “If you told him to let her go, he would. But is that the kind of boyfriend you’d like to be? You could find a solution. One that makes you both happy.”

“Just drop it, Yeosang. I can’t even consider this right now.”

Yeosang nodded and left. I could tell this wasn’t the end of this conversation. It was only the beginning.

To be continued…

#ateez #seonghwa #hongjoong #seongjoong #seonghwa x reader #yeosang #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez x reader #soojin #(g)i-dle #pirate au #mermaid au #writing

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peiches · 4 years

Text

“And now I’m looking at you...”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Getting ready to celebrate an anniversary things don’t really go as planned for you and Peter.

Warnings: Minor cussing? Angst?

Words: 5.9k+

A/N: Hi, hello, it’s me again. I know this took forever and I also know I said I was going to post this by the end of the year. But of course we know that didn’t happen, and I will apologize for that, but we’re here! New year and hopefully we can get this done lmao. Part 4 is here and I hope it is okay for low long it took to get this done. I hope you guys enjoy! And if you do give it a little heart! Now let’s start this off and get to reading, and I’ll do my walk of shame later. Thank ya’ll!

Masterlist; Part 1: Part 2: Part 3

Part 4: Don’t Worry About Me

Peter’s head was still buzzing from what he saw in the lobby when he heard the elevator ding letting him know he was on the ‘Stark’ floor, as everyone jokingly called it. He heard chatter coming from the living room and when he stepped towards the entry way Tony was the first one to see him.

“Spiderling,” he said and everyone sitting around the couch looked over at him. He saw Pepper smile at him, but didn’t gaze at anyone else. Tony was about to say something when Pepper interrupted him and gestured towards the group around her.

“Peter, you should come in and sit,” he heard her say. He was about to set his stuff down in the hallway storage where he always did, but then he saw yours rain boots and school bag.

“Peter!” You laughed as he picked you up and placed you on the living room couch. He had walked you home from school since you both had an early release day. “I still have my raincoat and boots on! And I have to get ready for our date.” You pouted as you tried to push him off of you. Peter laughed as he kept peppering kisses all over your face.

“I never get to see you until I pick you up from school! And our date is in 6 hours.” He said as he looked down at you. He gave you one final kiss on the lips and sat down where your feet were resting. “Fine,” he said and started pulling your boots off, once they were off he kissed your ankle.

“Different sensation,” you giggled closing your eyes.

“Is it weird?” He asked as he kissed your knee and then your thigh.

You sighed and when you opened your eyes he was was hovering over you again. He smiled and started leaning down to kiss you when the elevator dinged.

“Y/N, Peter!” Morgan shrieked as she saw both of you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Pepper walked up behind Morgan and saw you both sitting on the couch. Peter’s ears were tinged pink and you weren’t meeting her eyes.

“Nothing,” you both said quickly. Pepper hummed the corners of her mouth turning up. She then looked over at Morgan who was taking off her rain boots talking to Peter about something that happened at school, when she looked back up she saw yours near the couch.

“Bug,” she said and when you looked over to where she was pointing you huffed, standing from the couch and placing your boots next Morgan’s designated cubbie. Looking back at Peter you winked at him, while he looked at you smirking.

Pepper saw him staring at the boots, “Pete—“ she began, but when Peter looked up he finally saw everyone staring at him.

“I think, I think I’m going to go set up in the gym.” He muttered and gave a hesitant smile. Before Pepper could say anything else to him, he was gone.

When he got to the gym he changed and quickly set up at a punching bag. He didn’t wrap his hands, and he didn’t put gloves on but he curled his hand and hit, over, and over, and over again. His hands were screaming, and he didn’t know he was crying until he made the punching bag drop to the floor and looked down at his hands, they were red and bruised, covered in little droplets of water.

“What are you doing?” He heard from the entry way of the gym, he looked over and it was Tony standing at the entry way.

“Mr. Stark I—“ He started but didn’t know how to finish.

“Kid…”

“I can fix it,” Peter grabbed the chain and started lifting the bag but his hands started stinging.

Tony saw the boy wince and glanced down at his hands, “Actually, let’s go get you bandaged up, we can get someone to fix this later.” He pointed behind him and gestured to the hallway, Peter kept his head down passing Tony and walking towards the older mans lab.

Peter sat on a bench in the lab while he heard Tony rummage, grumbling something about not letting Morgan in his cabinets again. He heard a snap of fingers and then suddenly saw a chair come up in front of him.

He felt the cotton on his hand and when Peter’s eyes moved from his hand to Tony, he had glasses on, and not the usual over the top high tech glasses but regular horned rimmed ones that rested at the end of his nose. Peter huffed out a smile.

Tony glanced up, “What? Never seen me in glasses before?” Tony said as he started wrapping Peter’s hand carefully.

“Not these. No.” Peter winced, “When did you start wearing those?”

Tony hummed as he pinned the wrap in place, “After Y/N kept watching me squint when I looked at something close to me. She told Pepper, an eye exam and yelling at an optometrist later, here we are.” He said pointing at his face. “Don’t wear them much around Morgan though,” Tony huffed as took out a brace and slipped it on Peter’s hand.

Peter was going to ask why until he heard the older man give a dramatic sigh, “She cries and says I look old.” He chuckled and in return made Peter laugh too.

“Alright kid, all done,” Tony said as he patted Peter’s shoulder, he stood up and started cleaning up the supplies that he used.

He heard humming from Tony as he started placing the medical supplies in the cabinet, when Peter looked up he saw the inside of the cabinet door covered with little notes from you and Morgan, they were posted all over the inside that said, “Dad, I told you to be careful,” and another that said “I love you!” When his eyes landed on a picture of you and Morgan being carried by your dad in his Iron Man suit, his heart tugged at that, and felt the tears starting to well up again.

Tony heard Peter clear his throat and when he looked back to look at the boy, his head was in his hands and looked like he was having trouble taking deep breaths. Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he sat next to Peter and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Is this about Y/N? Because if it is, I think I should be more upset, seeing as it is my kid.” He tried to laugh it off but Peter stayed the same, he finally set his hands down and Tony could see his eyes were red and puffy.

Peter didn’t look up from where he was staring ahead, “Mr. Stark I, I messed up.” He stuttered and that made Tony frown.

“Listen, I know my kid isn’t perfect, so I know there are always two sides of the story.” Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder and sat in front of him again. “So what happened?”

Peter took in a big breath and then exhaled, “I think I over reacted and, and, wait. She didn’t tell you?” He finally looked up at Tony.

“No she didn’t.”

Peter looked at him shocked, “Why wouldn’t she tell you? She tells you everything.” He started sounding irritated.

“Not everything,” he waved it off, “so now I want to know.”

Peter stood up and started pacing, “Why the hell didn’t she tell you?” Peter mumbled and ran his hands through his hair. “See so she doesn’t even care about this, she’s going out with some new guy and she doesn’t even care. That’s why she didn’t tell me.” Peter spoke to himself getting more and more frustrated.

Tony looked at Peter, his eyebrows were furrowed, “What new guy? Tell you what?”

Peter was fuming until he finally snapped, “The blonde asshole I saw downstairs carrying Morgan out!”

“Are you talking about Harl—” Tony started but wasn’t able to finish, when he felt Peter storm past him.

Peter tried to talk himself out of what he was going to do, all the way down to get his Spiderman suit, and ignored Tony’s shouts from behind him. When he got his suit on and went out to the terrace he looked out onto the city.

“Karen?”

“Yes Peter?”

“Where is Y/N?”

&&.

Your phone buzzed with Wren’s answer over a picture you sent her of Harley and Morgan holding hands and walking down Central Park. “Make sure Morgan is leading him!” The message read making you smile.

“So when were you going to tell me that Wren was officially your girlfriend?” You asked Harley raising your eyebrows and setting your mug of hot chocolate near your lips.

You, Morgan, Harley, and Happy (who was sitting one table down) were at a small diner eating french fries, milkshakes, a hot chocolate for you, and a coffee for Happy. After a long day of attempting to keep up with both your little sister and your best friend, you were exhausted.

Morgan was trying to not laugh at the face Harley was making as he started stuttering, looking like a fish out of water.

“Why so nervous? I like Wren.” Morgan muffled in between bites of food.

Harley smiled at that and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you do, but I would appreciate if we don’t talk about it.”

You squinted your eyes at him, “Why?”

“Well because, you know,” he said gesturing to you.

“Please don’t hesitate to tell me things just because of the current situation, plus I’ve known for about two weeks now.” You said smirking and throwing a balled up napkin at him.

Harley groaned at that and threw his head back. “I regret letting you two meet,” he grumbled as he drank his milkshake.

“It was inevitable, plus you tried to shove me behind you! Like what was that? You just made us look suspicious.” You raised your voice at him.

He raised his hands in defense, “First of all you went willingly, and second we did make it look suspicious.” He said and put a fry in his mouth.

You understood why Wren was suspicious of you at first, you and Harley were the first to admit that the bond between you both was a bit, weird to say the least. You had been attached to the hip since you first met and could barely be two days without each other. He was your other half, the big brother you never asked for but got anyway, and after he moved away it was like a part of you didn’t know what to do anymore. So when your dad brought up the idea of staying with Harley’s family for a weekend, both you and Harley could hardly contain your excitement. The first time you met Wren was on a Saturday on day after your had arrived. Harley’s phone kept buzzing but he quickly turned it on silent saying he didn’t need a distraction. He told his new friends that he had made, that “a close friend was over,” and they were hounding him to come out to lunch so they could meet who had their new friend holed up in his house. He finally got them to agree that they would meet up at five at a local skating rink where all the teenagers hung out. Apparently Wren didn’t receive that memo and she came over to surprise him and his friend with an early lunch, and when she knocked on the door, you opened it up. You saw her gaping at you, from inside the house came a whine from Harley asking who it was and to hurry up and get rid of them. You had smiled and apologized for Harley, and when you asked her for her name he came up behind you. “What’s taking so long?” He had asked grabbing the door and when he opened up a little more, you felt him freeze. “Wren,” he stuttered and gripped the door turning his knuckles white. “Harley,” you saw her tense and grip the brown bag in her hands. “Oh did you br—“ You tried to ask but Harley pulled you behind him. “Pattertwig,” he sighed and he grabbed the bag from Wren’s hands and shoved it into yours. He didn’t let you say much of anything else as he closed the door, you could hear yelling, the the creaking of wood, and when you opened the door to make sure things were okay, there was kissing. You smiled and walked towards the kitchen emptying the contents of the bag. When they came back inside hand in hand you properly introduced yourself and the rest of the night was spent making fun of Harley, a night well spent.

“Why didn’t you introduce me to Peter?” Harley asked, “Do I embarrass you or something?” He tried to laugh it off but sounded a bit hurt.

You looked at him, Morgan and him started throwing french fries at each other. Suddenly Morgan climbed out of the booth and walked over too Happy who was chatting away with a waitress.

You smiled as Morgan interrupted the conversation, she said something that made the waitress laugh and sat down in front of both her and Happy, Morgan looked over and gave you a thumbs up that you returned.

You looked back at Harley who was eating the rest of the french fries that were on the plate, “Do you remember how Wren acted? When she saw both of us together?”

Harley looked up at you and frowned a bit at that, “Yeah I do. She thought I was lying about liking her, and started crying. I felt horrible about it.”

You looked at the window, it was starting to snow, “I did too, but afterwards was fun.” You smiled remembering that day, while you heard Harley groan at the memory.

You looked back at him, he was staring at you. You huffed and rested your head in your hand. “I didn’t want that for him, I didn’t want for him to feel that way. I wanted to do it right, I knew you were going to come for Thanksgiving and I had a plan to introduce both of you and Wren and everything was going to be okay.” You blew a raspberry. “But here we are.”

“Pattertwi—“ he tried and when you turned your head towards him again he saw your cheeks were rosy and your eyes were rimmed with tears.

“He told me that he loved me Harley, and you should’ve seen the look on his face when I just sat there.” You rushed out and while Harley’s mouth stayed open at your words. There was a pause and then finally he spoke.

“Do you love him?”

Looking down at your mug of hot chocolate, you sighed, “I do, I really do. But hearing him say it? That was scary, people tell each other that they love each other all the time but they still leave.”

He looked at you in disbelief, “Are you really not going to tell him because you don’t want to get your feelings hurt?”

“Harley my mom said she loved me and she still walked out.”

There was a small pause and then you felt him grab your hand, “Babe you shouldn’t feel that way, and you shouldn’t let your mom control that part of you either.” His mouth curled into a smile.

He was the only one who knew about your mom and what had happened. You looked at his goofy smile and patted his hand. “You’re right, I know, and I want to tell him, but it took me by surprise and everything is wonky now. And now I feel like I’m all messed up.”

“We’re all a little wonky.” Morgan came up hand in hand with a grinning Happy.

Harley tipped his milkshake towards Morgan, “Cheers to that Goonie.” She covered her mouth and giggled at that.

“Ready to go?” Happy asked as he picked up Morgan and set her on the booth.

“Can we walk in the Park for a little bit and then go home?” Morgan asked Happy as you zipped up her jacket. Harley looked like he was about to argue when you spoke up.

“The Harry Potter movie marathon starts at 7 and the lights in the park are being turned on before that.” You told Harley and his shoulders sagged in relief.

Happy let out a big laugh, “That fine kiddo, we will just have to be back soon though, you know how your dad gets.” He muttered to both you and Morgan.

“Yes Happy,” the three of you said in unison.

Walking towards the park all four of you were talking and laughing, a crowd started forming around you guys to watch the lights in the park turn on for the first time this year. Morgan was trying to get to the very front. “Morgan you have to hold our hands.” You told her as she tried to slip away. You turned your head to see where Harley and Happy ended up as Morgan kept tugging your arm to get in the front. You saw him 5 people down from you talking to Happy about the lights you assumed. You relaxed, but when you looked back down to look at Morgan she was gone.

“Mor—Morgan!” You looked around the crowd. Looking back at Harley and Happy they caught your eye. They looked at your panic stricken face and walked towards you when the crowd cheered as the lights were turned on.

“Y/N?” Harley yelled above the crowd.

&&.

It took forever for Peter to find them, it seems like every time he had come close they were leaving or Peter was asked to help a stranger, and had to start tracking them all over again. He ended up on top of a small cafe looking down at the crowd forming to watch the lights light up for the first time. He had no idea where your group had ended up but maybe seeing the lights turn on for the first time would be a fun thing to watch. That is until he saw Morgan walking hand in hand with you, the little pink ball was bouncing right beside you, Happy and the blonde guy where right behind them laughing at something the blonde said. Peter felt his stomach drop and was shaking from anger or from the cold he didn’t know but he really didn’t like this guy. He kept looking for both you and Morgan as he lost sight of them. When he saw Morgan tugging at your arm trying to get to the front, he relaxed again smiling.

When the lights turned on the crowd cheered, but something was wrong as he felt his spider senses on edge. He heard you shout, “Morgan!” Over and over again, then a voice started shouting your name. He knew something was wrong and immediately swung down to the happy crowd. The cheering was even louder down there but Peter immediately noticed the crowd forming around him, they were shoving into him and with cameras flashing in his face, your voice fading in the crowd.

“Guys, please stop—“ he tried, but they were excited to see Spider-Man this up close.

“Morgan!” He tried to shout above the crowd asking him questions.

“Who’s Morgan?” Someone asked and that started another pile of questions.

He raised his hands and shot a web towards a street lamp to get out of there. He jumped and the crowd became even more rowdy than before still taking pictures of Spider-Man. He kept scanning the crowd from above a tree, growing more anxious with every passing moment until he spotted a little pink ball huddled near the Christmas tree, she was crying. He made sure the crowd was distracted when music started playing before he jump down and ran towards her.

“Morgan!” He whispered but the little girl immediately pushed him off shouting, “No!”

“Morgan,” he tried again, “it’s me Peter.”

She finally looked up at him, “Peter!” She lunged for him wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I lost sissy, I want my sissy.” She cried into his chest. He squeezed her tighter as he picked her up, scanning the crowd again to see where you were.

“We’ll find her Morgan I promise.” He told her and started walking, he didn’t exactly know where but he needed to start looking for you. He took a few steps away from the crowd when he heard a voice shout, “Goonie!”

Morgan peered up looking behind Peter, she immediately started squirming in Peter’s hold, he set her down and she immediately ran to the blonde guy who had his arms wide open for her. “Harley!” Peter’s heart squeezed at that. Looking at Morgan who was comfortable with this kid, how long had they known each other? Peter wasn't sure how long he stood there staring at them talking and hugging, but he snapped out of his little trance when he heard your voice and saw you running straight towards them.

“Oh my god, Morgan!” You practically cried landing on your knees and enveloping the smallest Stark in a tight hug. He saw Morgan’s face turn a little pink at that, he wanted to come up to you and tell you to let Morgan go a little but the blonde kid, Harley, beat him to it. He saw the two of were were talking, and he heard some murmuring coming from them. His ears perked up when he heard the name Spider-Man, he saw as Y/N’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion at first but when she stood up with Morgan on her hip and finally faced Peter, she let out a small smile, rested her head on top of Morgan’s, and mouth thank you. Peter smiled at her and lifted his hand up to wave when he saw Happy come bounding behind them too, phone pressed to his ear.

“Oh thank god, I though Tony was going to have to be involved.” He said and the trio let out a collective chuckle with a few sniffles mixed in there. He started talking to them and he’s sure they were talking about leaving because they turned to the direction of the crowd. Happy not having noticed Peter at first looked towards him for the first time and waved him over, “You need a ride Spiderboy?” Happy asked as Peter finally attempted to walk closer to the small group. Peter was going to say he was fine when his phone started ringing it was Alison and Ned, both he and Ned had agreed to come over to her house after 5:30 to work on a small science project that they were grouped together in. He muttered a quick profanity making sure the tiny ears in the group didn’t hear him.

“Hey Alison,” he quickly responded, “I’ll be there in about 30 minutes—“ he continued. What he didn’t see was Harley tense up at the name Peter said, he walked away out of ear shot. Saying a quick bye to Alison and Ned letting them know again he’ll be there with the supplies needed, when he hung up and walked towards the group again, he saw the boy, Harley, was tense with an arm wrapped around Y/N.

“Actually, Happy I think Spider-Man can go by himself, he got here by himself, he can leave by himself.” There was malice laced in Harley’s words.

“Harley.” Peter heard you, and saw you touch the guy’s shoulder.

That was the last straw for Peter. “Y/N, who is this guy?” He finally asked his face flaming red. “I saw him at the compound, I see him here with you!” His voiced increased with every word that he said. You opened your mouth to answer but Harley stepped in front of you.

“I’m her best friend.”

Peter took a step back trying to cool down, his hands were shaking. “No, I’m her best friend, I’m her boyfriend, I’m supposed to be here with her.” He calmly said looking towards Y/N and Morgan, with a frowning Happy next to them.

Happy tried to break the tension when Harley snapped. “No, last I heard you’re not her boyfriend anymore!”

Peter started shaking, fumbling with his mail when he shouted finally. “I didn’t choose that! It was her! She’s the one that didn’t care!” Peter snapped, everyone became silent around him. His ears were still ringing with anger, until he heard the sniffle that came out of you.

He felt his heart drop when he looked at you, tears falling down your face as Morgan wiped them away, “Y/N, bab—“ he tried.

He saw Harley head towards her as your tears kept him glued to the ground, not letting him move. The last thing he heard you say was, “Maybe it is.”

He saw you walk away with Morgan on your hip, Harley looked back at him with an angry face, what hurt the most was when Morgan looked back at him with a pout. What did he just do.

&&.

Tony and Pepper got off the elevator and when they stepped in the living room they saw the back of Morgan and Harley’s heads, the TV was on and they were watching the Harry Potter movie marathon. Tony and Pepper smiled at the sight but when they didn’t see the eldest Stark sitting on the couch they looked at each other confused.

“Hey guys, where’s—“ Tony started saying but when Morgan looked back at him he saw the worry on her face and stopped completely.

“Daddy.” She whispered to him and that made him step forward again, “I think Y/N needs you.”

That’s when Tony heard the sniffling and when he took a peek over the couch he saw you sitting on the floor curled up in your pajamas with a blanket wrapped around you.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You heard your dad say and when you looked up he was sitting next to you. You wrapped your arms around him. “I’m ready to wallow now,” you muffled into his chest.

He grabbed your face so you would look at him, “Can you tell us what happened with Peter now?” He asked as he wiped your tears with his shirt sleeve and moved your hair from your face tucking it behind your ears.

You took a deep breath, looked at both your parents and with a big huff you told them, “He told me he loved me and I didn’t say it back when I wanted too.” You choked out. Pepper took a seat on the couch next to Morgan and leaned down to stroke your hair. “You have no idea how much I wanted to say it. I was just scared dad!” You raised your voice looking at your dad.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding. “You’ve said it before you say it all the time, bug. I’m not—”

You hid your face again in your dad’s chest, “I know I do! But I know you aren’t going anywhere, I know because you’ve been with me even though I’m a brat!”

There was a small pause, Tony was about to speak when you muffled out, “You said you loved mom but she still left.”

Tony’s heart stopped at your words, he stayed silent until you finally looked up at him. He had a sad look in his eyes but a small smile on his face.

“Dad—“ you started saying but he stopped you by grabbing both your hands.

He looked at Pepper and Morgan and sighed, “Ouch, I know I’m not a role model when it comes to these sort of things, but you shouldn’t be afraid to tell someone you love them because it didn’t work out for me the first time,” he said as he grabbed your face again. “Plus I think it worked out pretty good this time.” He added chuckling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I love all four of you,” you laughed as Morgan pounced on you and Pepper sat on the floor joining in on the hug, Harley followed suit and joined the small ball on the floor.

You laughed as you were being squeezed by the ball that was on the floor. Slowly everyone disentangled themselves. Tony and Pepper looked at each other and when they both nodded, Pepper stood. She looked at Harley and he got the message too.

“I’m hungry.” Harley whined, and everyone laughed at that.

Pepper ruffled his hair, and helped him get up from the couch, “Let’s go then Reepicheep.” She said walking towards the kitchen. Harley groaned stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pajamas.

“I can’t believe you told her that damn name.” He grumbled as Morgan jumped on his back, and both followed after Pepper.

You snickered and yelled after him, “Serves you right, you named me after a squirrel!”

“You named me after a rat!” He shouted back. You heard Pepper let out a big laugh, and you felt your dad’s chest rumble with a small chuckle.

There was cabinets opening, stove tops turning on, and chatter from the kitchen. But you and Tony stayed on the floor, he was rubbing your back as you clung onto him.

“I’m sorry I made you worry about me dad.”

Tony hummed and started playing with your hair, “I think that’s a part of the dad job.”

You smiled at that looking up at him, “I know, but I promised a long time ago I wouldn’t let you worry about me.”

He looked at you with ruffled eyebrows, “What do you— oh.” He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed you into a hug, he smiled back at you. “You remember what I told you?”

“Are you crying?” Your dad’s voice came behind you.

You were sitting on the window nook, that was in your room at the Malibu house. You were looking out the window, the water crashed into the rocks below. His voice made you jump and you looked back at him. He was standing at the door with his hands in his pockets.

“Huh? I’m not crying.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You heard light footsteps coming in your room then felt your dad sit beside you.

Tony looked at his daughter, she tucked herself away, her arms were wrapped around her knees. She hadn’t spoken to him all day, he was tired mentally and physically but he had to be here for her, she needed him right now. Tony sighed tugged on a strand of his kid’s hair, “No one’s going to get mad at you if you cry because you’re sad or hurt, you know?”

“Daddy—“ She started saying not looking up. He heard her voice tremble, but before he could speak she cleared her throat and started again.

“I didn’t want to make you sad, or make you worry about me. That’s why even though mommy’s gone. I promise now daddy, that I’m not going to make you sad or worry about me anymore. I’m not going to cry as much as before.” She said and Tony just looked at his daughter in awe. She was worried about him, about how he felt when he saw her this way. Tony’s heart melted at that, his eyes welling up with tears. He grabbed her and hugged her close to his chest.

“Baby, listen carefully. You don’t have to feel embarrassed or ashamed about crying in times of sadness, or asking for help when times are hard. I know mommy leaving is sad, but you don’t have to worry about me.” He said into her ear.

Tony felt his daughter’s grip tighten on his shirt and nuzzle her head in his chest.

“I don’t want you to be sad or lonely.” She whispered to him, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

Tony smiled down at you and rubbed your back, “I’ll be okay, bug. I’m really strong.” He said to her chuckling at the small pout she wore.

You frowned at that,“I’m not strong like you are.”

“Oh, but you are. Look at this you’re crushing me.” Tony gasped and started falling onto the ground.

You laughed at your dad as you looked down at him laying on the ground from the window nook. You two ended up falling asleep like that, you laying down on bench of your nook with Tony on the floor, holding hands. And maybe in that moment he needed her more than she needed him.

You looked up at your dad and held him tighter, “I remember, sort of.”

Tony hummed and started flipping the channels on the TV, “so Peter told you he loved you?”

You groaned letting go of him and put your face in your hands as he patted your back. Sweeping your hair back from your face and turned your head to look back at your dad who had a small smile on his face.

“He did tell me,” you sighed.

“And you didn't say anything?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“Well that must have been rough on him.”

“He looked so hurt. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt him.”

“I know.”

“I just got scared and I sat there.”

“I understand. You know, I'm still learning this stuff too and since I'm still learning, I think I haven't thought enough about what I'm supposed to be teaching you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

Tony ran a hand over his face, “I’m talking about my own personal lack of past commitment skills. I mean, look, I love that you have my ears and my coffee addiction and my taste in music and movies, but when it comes to love and relationships, I don't necessarily want you to be like me. I would hate to think that I raised a kid who couldn't say I love you.”

“Dad.”

“I’m not even talking specifically about Peter. I mean just generally in life.”

You threw your head back and it hit the couch. Tony let out a chuckle and hugged you close to him again.

“My point is that it's scary to be in love, that much I know, but it's also wonderful and special and if you can't say it or fully express it then you're never gonna be able to experience it and I want you to experience everything that's great because you're so great. Are you hearing me?” Tony said resting his head on top of your head.

“Yeah, I'm hearing you.” You whispered.

Tony let go of you grabbing your face and brushing the hair out of your eyes again, “I’m not saying you say ‘I love you’ at the drop of a hat. It has to be right and real and it has to take a lot of thought. But someday with someone it will be right. I want you to be ready for that moment when it happens.”

You were about to speak again when Morgan, Pepper, and Harley came in with plates of food and set them down on the coffee table. Everyone started settling down on the rug and passing food to one another. Morgan catching the last bit of your conversation asked innocently.

“What moment are you getting ready for? When will it happen?”

You smiled and stole some food from her plate, Morgan protested, then you finally said, “I’m working on the right moment, Goonie. I don’t know when it’ll happen, however I do know what dress I'll be wearing.”

“Well, I wanna be there when it happens.” Morgan said excitedly.

Harley nodded, “If Goonie’s invited, so am I.”

Tagged: @shirleyhush

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hailing-stars · 4 years

Text

I wrote this fic almost a year ago, one of my first irondad one-shots and my writing has improved so much lmao, but I didn’t have a tumblr back then, so I thought it was worth posting here. also May dates doc ock which happens in the comics but was still uncomfortable to write lol

summary - something nefarious

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

Peter gets beat up by May's new boyfriend, because May's new boyfriend is Doc Ock and Peter is nosey.

Tony just wants to work on a car with his Spidey son and send him to college in one piece.

read on ao3 or after the undercut

Peter stared at the car parts scattered across the floor. He tried to remember enough to start assembling, or to at least make a little bit of progress before Mr. Stark looked away from whatever he was working on and saw no changes were made. It was useless. He couldn’t concentrate. Not on that. Not during that particular moment.

His thoughts belonged elsewhere, anywhere else, actually, but mostly not there. On the car. Completing the car meant completing a lie, or more importantly, led Peter closer to the moment he’d have to confess to Mr. Stark that he wouldn’t be attending MIT in the fall and therefore wouldn’t need this particular graduation present.

Peter had trouble deciding what would upset Mr. Stark more, his choice of school or that attending NYU rendered his gift useless.

“Every college man needs a car,” he had told him, then proceeded to try and rush off to get him a brand-new Audi. Peter’s lucky to have both May and Pepper. They were there to force him into a compromise

.May picked out some rundown car at a junk lot, and Mr. Stark would help him fix it up.

This compromise meant every Saturday that summer belonged to the workshop. He didn’t mind that part. Spending time with Mr. Stark was one of his favorite things to do. Especially there, in the workshop, where new Iron Man suits were born. If Peter were really going away to Massachusetts for school next fall, which he definitely wasn’t, he would miss him, almost as much as May.

The thought crossed his mind that he might end up missing Mr. Stark after all. Peter isn’t completely above pretending to be at MIT while he really hung around New York. It sounded a lot better and like a lot less drama than giving him the bad news.

“You were right,” said Mr. Stark. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood over where Peter worked, or pretended to work, on the floor. “Clearly you don’t need my help.”

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

“Oh shit,” he said, and struggled to get to his feet. He sprinted to the other side of the workshop, grabbed his bookbag from the floor, then sprinted back to Mr. Stark. “I’m going to be late. I’m supposed to be meeting him tonight.”

He waited for the blow to come. A sarcastic comment. An ill-received joke. Peter prepared to defend himself for hating the man without ever meeting him, but the blow never came. This is something that, maybe, Mr. Stark understood, too. Peter didn’t need a reason to dislike any of May’s boyfriends, although he felt like he had plenty from overheard bits of conversations on the phone.

His name was reason enough. Doctor Otto.

Peter looked up once he adjusted the strap of his bookbag, and followed Mr. Stark’s gaze over to the car, if it could even be called a car at that point, sitting in the middle of the room.

“At this rate it’s never gonna be finished by fall.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “I’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Nope, tomorrow I’m spending the day with Pepper,” he said, then pointed at him. “Next Saturday I’m helping you, and cut it out with the Mr. Stark, alright? I told you. It’s Tony. You’re an adult now. Use your big boy words.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was almost out the door when he heard Mr. Stark grumble, “Smartass.”

He was, as predicted, late for dinner. He opened the apartment door to one of the most traumatizing sights he’d ever seen in his eighteen years of life. May and Doctor Otto were standing uncomfortably close, but worse of all, they were breaking apart, as if they’d been closer, as if they’d been kissing.

His eyes settled over the man, but Peter’s feet stayed planted in the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Doctor Otto was tall, with dark hair and fit. His button up shirt stuck too close to his skin, but that wasn’t the most unsettling observation Peter made that night. It was the look in his eyes. Possibly, it was the same look Peter gave him as he sized him up, as the both of them were making up their minds about each other there in his aunt’s apartment.

The apartment they used to share with his uncle Ben.

“You must be Peter,” said Otto. He broke out of the kitchen and started across the apartment towards him.

“Obviously.”

Otto looked taken back for a half-second, then quickly recovered and pretended he hadn’t heard the tone. Behind him, May glared and mouthed at him to be nice.

“I’m Otto,” he said. His grip was loose and flimsy, like a fish out of water or a man who’s trying too hard to pretend to be unassuming. Peter knew better than to fall for that. “May told me so much about you.”

“Really?” said Peter. “I haven’t heard very much about you at all actually…”

“Peter,” said May, marching across the kitchen and joining them in the foyer. She stood by Otto, on his side, and hooked her arm through his. “He’s joking.” She looked at Peter. “You’re joking, but the joke’s over now.”

The couple walked back into the kitchen, arms still linked, and Peter swallowed misplaced stomach acid. His feet felt like dead weights as he followed them to the kitchen table. He didn’t know how he would make it through dinner without puking, but he should at least try it. He should at least try to be polite even if Otto made his skin crawl and his stomach turn, just so May wouldn’t kill him once he left. If he ever left.

He looked so comfortable on May’s side of the dinner table, where Ben used to sit, Peter wasn’t so sure they would ever get rid of him.

He stayed polite by keeping his responses as short as possible. He nodded when he could, he forced himself to smile, and occasionally, would make a noise that implied he was paying attention and actually, he was. Otto went on and on about his research with radioactive substances, maybe trying to impress him, but after spending so much time with Mr. Stark, it was hard to be impressed by someone so mediocre.

“I’ve heard you’re pretty into science yourself,” said Otto. There was a stray lasagna noodle hanging on his chin, and Peter had a hard time looking anywhere else. “I’ll have to get your opinion on my work sometime.”

“Oh,” said Peter. He looked down at his plate and pushed a few noodles around with his fork. “I doubt I would have the time for that. I intern for Mr. Stark, and he keeps me pretty busy.”

May narrowed her eyes at Peter, who stared right back. Otto was her boyfriend. It didn’t mean he was obligated to spend time with him.

“I’m sure he does,” said Otto, and Peter smiled for the first time since coming home, enjoying the bit of jealousy laced into his voice.

That night, Peter laid in bed and stared at his ceiling. The more his brain turned and turned and turned with all that talking about radioactive substances, about wanting to work with them, about AIs that would allow him to do it, the more it didn’t sound right. AIs were dangerous in the wrong hands. Peter didn’t think they should be trusted in the same hands that had trouble keeping food on his plate or in his mouth.

He didn’t sleep until he resolved to start an investigation, and to not give it up until he found something so incriminating May would break up with him.

Peter had a simple plan.

He set his alarm early, at least for an otherwise lazy Sunday morning, and stayed in his room. He pretended to be asleep until he heard the shower water running. He slipped out of bed and made his footsteps light as he crept into May’s bedroom. Her phone sat on the nightstand, and once in his hands, it was an easy hack. Something so simple and learned so easily by spending enough time around Mr. Stark, who was quick to teach Peter anything he wanted to know. He scrolled with his thumb until he found Otto’s contact information, grinning when he finally came across what he’d been looking for, an address.

He sent it to his phone, wiped the message history and returned it to its original position on the nightstand.

By the time May came out of the bathroom, Peter sat at the kitchen table, watching YouTube videos on his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. The empty box laid sideways on the table.

“Good morning, May,” he said, as she walked past him.

She headed to the coffee pot, or at least she had started in that direction. She backtracked several steps to stand in the kitchen entryway, observing him with her hands on her hips, until Peter was forced to acknowledge her.

“No.”

“No to what?”

“To whatever you’re up to,” she said. “I know that look, and I know what it means.”

“But I’m not even doing anything.”

“Does what you’re not doing have anything to do with Otto, by any chance?” she asked. Peter blinked at her, and she pulled on her we’re-about-to-have-a-serious-discussion face while she pulled out the chair next to him. “Did you know all those nights you spend going off, having your little Avengers missions, I sit here in this kitchen, by myself, worrying to death about you? Every single time. It never gets less scary, but it always ends the same way. Do you know how?”

“Umm…” said Peter. He had a feeling he knew, but he felt like answering would be walking into a trap.

“With you coming through that door complaining,” she said. “Mr. Stark is so over-protective. He’s paranoid! He won’t let me anything –“

“-My voice isn’t that high.”

“The point,” said May. “Is that you are doing the same thing, with me, now.”

Peter dropped his spoon, and looked at her, really looked at her. She made a good point. He hated that, because this situation was clearly different. Relationships were definitely more dangerous than his missions with the Avengers.

“I miss Ben too, but I have to start dating again sometime, you know?”

“I know,” said Peter. “Does it have to be this guy, though?”

May rolled her eyes, stood up and headed to her beloved coffee pot. “Give him a chance, Peter.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Peter would give him a chance, just as soon as he investigated and only if he couldn’t find anything on him. He hoped he would. His aunt deserved someone better than the idiot who talked only about himself all evening with a noodle hanging off his chin.

His investigation started later on that same day.

Peter sat cross-legged on the top of Otto’s apartment building while he ate his dinner, a slightly cold sandwich from Delmar’s. He picked it up on the way over, with the intention of being able to eat it when he got home, but this stake-out was taking longer than he expected. It only served to prove Peter’s suspicions. Otto was up to something nefarious. Obviously. There was no other reason for him to be away from his apartment all day long when he told May he was spending the day grocery shopping and doing laundry.

He waited hours on that rooftop, watching the city below him and listening to all its sounds, only to finally tire out and head back home empty handed. Without any evidence. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he expected to find there, anyway.

Peter crawled through his bedroom window, then heard it. He ditched his suit for regular clothes and discovered the reason Otto hadn’t returned home to his apartment. He was here. On the couch with May. Watching a movie with his arm around her.

“Oh hey, Peter,” said May. She paused the movie, and both pairs of eyes stared him down. “I didn’t know you were home. Do you want to watch this with us?”

“He probably doesn’t have the time,” said Otto. It was lighthearted, but it grated at Peter’s nerves.

He dismissed himself. Politely. He could foreign politeness just as well as Otto could pretend to be meek.

Peter paced in his room. Back and forth, back and forth, thinking fast and frantic. He stopped when his thoughts did, when his he lifted his head from staring at the floor and his eyes fell over to his desk drawer. A new idea, like a spark, sent him barreling to his knees in front of the drawer. He yanked it open and searched through it, pulling out papers and graded homework from years before as it did.

But it was useless. They were all gone. A tracker would have been perfect, would have done his job for him, but they weren’t anymore left. Not in his drawer, or in his suit.

There was one more option but asking Mr. Stark for more trackers invited his questions. He collapsed on his bed, realizing he didn’t have much of a choice, and put his scheme against Otto off until Saturday.

It rolled around fast, and Mr. Stark hadn’t been kidding when he told him he’d be helping him this time around. Within five minutes of his arrival at the workshop, the two of them were side-by-side, shoulders nearly touching, face-up underneath the frame of the car. He passed him tools, explained to him what did what, and what to screw and where. It was almost like having a dad again, and it pushed Otto and the tracker to the very back of his brain.

He just wanted to enjoy the moment.

But when there wasn’t May and her boyfriend to worry about, his mind reverted back to worrying over the moment he confessed to Mr. Stark MIT wasn’t happening.

Thinking about not going ached like regret. He wasn’t just disappointing Mr. Stark, but himself. As fall got closer and closer, he realized more and more MIT was the perfect place for him. He didn’t understand how Mr. Stark knew that long before Peter, but none of it mattered. It didn’t change anything. He still couldn’t go.

He already declined the offer, and there were two very good reasons that went into that decision. The first was Queens. His city still needed Spider-Man. The second was more important. He couldn’t leave May. Who else would investigate and stalk her boyfriends, or eat Thai food on the couch while watching trash reality TV?

A nudge on his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts.

“Let’s take a break,” said Mr. Stark. They both scooted out from under the car and sat up. Mr. Stark threw a rag at him. Peter used it immediately, wiping off the black smudges he felt on his cheeks, then his hands. “How’s the situation with May and the new boyfriend?”

“His name is Otto,” said Peter. “He’s a tool.”

“Otto, huh? No wonder why you don’t like him,” Mr. Stark stood and walked over to a stool where his phone sat, leaving Peter to sit on the floor, using his hands as props to support the rest of his body.

Peter stared at the back of Mr. Stark’s head while he strolled through his phone. He figured it was now or never. To ask about those trackers, not for the college confession. He still had a couple of weeks until he would need to disclose that information, and he planned to procrastinate as long as possible. He found his voice, though it wavered when his request was said out loud, causing Mr. Stark to turn around and look away from the phone in his hand.

“Why? What for?”

“To track… someone,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark tilted his head at him. Forget being trapped under buildings. He was eighteen years old and one look from him turned him back into a guilty first-grader. It ruled out the possible scheme of pretending to be in Massachusetts in the fall. He’d never be able to pull that off.

“I got that,” he said. “Who?”

“No one important.”

He made a face like he didn’t believe him but walked away and returned with a handful of the tiny trackers despite his unanswered questions. He passed them to Peter, who had to stand to collect them. He shoved them in the smallest pocket of his bookbag.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked. “Man who thinks he’s a bird? Another lizard guy?”

“Nothing that like.”

He made the same face. It was every bit pinched as it was disbelieving, as if there were questions beating down a wall in his mind. Old Mr. Stark didn’t have that wall. He wouldn’t sat him down and demanded to know exactly what the trackers were used for. New Mr. Stark, who was inspired either by Pepper or a therapist, maybe both, let it go. He asked questions. He pried, but he didn’t stop him from making his own mistakes.

Sometimes Peter missed the old version. He felt less guilty about lying to helicopter Mr. Stark.

“If you’re ever in over your head,” he said. He twirled a screw-driver in his hand. “I’m just a phone call away.”

Peter looked at him, really looked at him and saw the scruff, dirt and grime instead of the billionaire wearing a suit and sunglasses. It was the workshop effect. Everything became a little more real, a little more transparent under the grease and dust, and under the dim lighting, Mr. Stark was just someone who worried too much about the people he loved.

And also, someone who was getting better and better at heaping on the guilt without even trying to do it.

The golden opportunity to put a tracker on Otto presented itself later on that same evening. Him and May were close on the couch, in their usual positions, as Peter stomped through the living room, still covered in the grease and dust of the workshop and swallowing another bout of stomach acid. They didn’t notice him, so he didn’t even try to be discrete when he slipped a tracker inside the seams of Otto’s coat.

He shouldn’t have left it out in the open like that. Just hanging on a kitchen chair.

After that, all he needed to do was wait, and he didn’t even have to do that for very long.

Otto excused himself from their movie night unusually early. As soon as Peter heard the apartment door shut, he pulled his mask on and watched the blue dot which represented Otto move across the map. It didn’t go to the dodgy apartment building where he lived. It went to the labs where he worked. Awfully late to be going to work. Unless that was his angle. To access the lab when the rest of the employees weren’t around and couldn’t see what he was doing.

Only one way to find out.

He suited up and followed the beacon to the labs. He was done pretending to be polite, so slamming through one of the windows and shattering glass everywhere as he tumbled into the building didn’t seem like an imposition. No alarm sounded, either, which was an added bonus.

The last thing he needed was for him to be tipped off about Spider-Man’s arrival.

He followed faint noises to find Otto, and when he got to the room he was in, he crawled up the wall and stuck to the ceiling, watching upside down as Otto maneuvered around the lab, unaware of his presence. Nothing seemed special. Nothing seemed to catch Peter’s eyes, until Otto walked over to a place in the lab he wouldn’t have known to look if he hadn’t gone over there.

He strapped himself into a harness, and from that harness, gained four new arms. Mechanical ones, with claws at the ends of them, and they were snapping. It concerned Peter that all four of them were extending upward, in his direction, but in retrospect it probably should’ve concerned him a little bit more. It just took one sudden movement, one metal tentacle shooting up fast and abrupt inches from where Peter hung to send him somersaulting to the ground.

He stuck the landing with his shoulders stuck out for balance, and looked up, looked into the eyes of Otto Octavius and saw the same something nefarious he saw the first time he met him. Granted, it was hard to take seriously with four mechanical claws floating around and snapping at him.

“What are you supposed to be?” asked Peter. Maybe Mr. Stark wasn’t too far off with his guesses that had to do with animals. “An octopus?”

“Glad you could finally find the time to join me, Peter.”

“Wait, what –“

“You’re really not that great at keeping secrets,” said Otto. His eyes drifted off to the equipment to his left, then back to Peter. “So, I’m sure you’ll understand this isn’t personal. I just can’t have you running off and telling Iron Man about all this.”

It was over before it started. While Peter was busy looking at all the things Otto didn’t want to Mr. Stark to find out about. He didn’t know what they were, or what they did, or why it would mean trouble for him if Iron Man discovered it, but that didn’t stop him from attacking.

Fast and abrupt just like the first time. He managed to dodge the first, but the second caught him in his belly and swatted him against the wall. He crashed to the floor, awkward and ungraceful, and thanks to his upgraded hearing, could hear the bone in his leg snapping before he even felt it. But the pain did come and distracted him from the third metal arm that lifted him up and pinned him against the wall.

It was Otto’s real hands that punched him, hit him hard in the stomach, on the face, but all Peter felt was the pain in his leg. He kept his focus there when the punching stopped, when Otto’s hands came up around his neck and cut off his air supply.

He was about to get killed by a man who couldn’t eat without getting food on his face.

That’s when he heard it. The gloriously familiar sound Iron Man made when he hovered, followed by his voice.

“Get your grubby tentacles off my kid, kraken.”

Peter was dropped to the floor, on his pitifully broken leg, but he felt better than fine. For all the aches and pains, even the stabbing one in his leg, he knew this was a fight that wouldn’t last long, either. There was no stomach acid as he watched Otto attempt to smack Iron Man around with those ridiculous metal arms. Mr. Stark wasn’t distracted, was ready for it and simply blasted him away with his repulsor beam. He flew across the room, crashed into the wall the same way Peter had and thudded to the floor.

Mr. Stark wasn’t done, though, even if Otto was no longer in any condition to fight. He didn’t stop until every single one of the metal arms were disbanded, snapped in half or otherwise disposed, and it isn’t until Otto is knocked unconscious that Mr. Stark lands next to Peter.

“Mr. Ssstark –“ said Peter. “I - I didn’t call.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just lucky you weren’t the only one tracking someone tonight, kid,” he said. He kneeled down next to him. “What’s the damage?”

“Leg’s broken.”

He felt the pain then, all at once, as if saying it out loud made it present. He gasped, and Mr. Stark winced. He turned his head, leveled another glare at Otto, and for a second, Peter thought he might go back over there, kick him while he’s down and unconscious, but the moment passed. Mr. Stark wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder’s, and very carefully, put his other arm under his legs, eventually scooping him off the ground.

Any energy he usually would have spent protesting being carried is focused towards the pain radiating throughout his body. He shut his eyes and hoped to pass out while they went soaring into the night’s sky.

They put him on painkillers.

Mr. Stark’s medical team were quick about that one, and the drugs were fast. They were both speedy and strong. He didn’t remember much about the process of having his leg set and casted, but he did remember voices murmuring up above him. He couldn’t quite hold on to them, but they were talking, amazed, about his healing abilities. It would take just a couple of days for his leg to be back to normal, and less than that for the bruises to disappear.

Until then, however, he was laid up on Mr. Stark’s couch. His leg was propped up, in a blue cast and there were lots of pillows supporting his back, so he could sit up without effort. Everything came back into focus. The blurriness in his head cleared up as the pain started to trickle back in. Then he remembered.

He had just one concern.

“I need to call May,” said Peter, and to his shock, a voice answered back.

“Already done.”

He slowly, carefully, turned his head and saw Mr. Stark in the recliner, staring at him.

“Don’t worry,” he told him. “I broke the news to her about the octopus, too.”

“Is he –“

“-He’s alive,” said Mr. Stark. “Uh, he just won’t be doing very much for a while, and he definitely won’t be calling your aunt back.”

Relief flooded through muscles that should’ve ached. Mission accomplished, but it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. It sort of sucked, actually. That May started dating again just to get stuck with Otto. That her happiness got delayed again. It only served to reinforce his already made-up about staying in the city for school.

He looked at Mr. Stark. It was the perfect time for the truth about college. While he was drugged out and the consequences didn’t seem as bad, and while he was bruised and broken to the point Mr. Stark would feel guilty if he started to yell.

“I have to tell you something,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark looked up from his phone and didn’t miss a beat. “I already know you think you’re not going to MIT, Peter.”

Maybe it was still the drugs, but he didn’t quite catch what was said, or at least the implication behind what was said.

“W-what?”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “And I knew you would end up getting cold feet, so I paid someone at the admissions office to keep an eye out for your acceptance status. When you declined, idiot move by the way, I just had the evidence destroyed and sent in the deposit for your first semester instead.”

It was said so simply. As if it were completely normal behavior to employ spies at a university, and as if semesters at MIT were cheap. This was helicopter Mr. Stark. He never really left. He just tried to change during the moments that really mattered, or the ones that didn’t. Peter couldn’t figure out which way it went, but either way, he felt the only appropriate reaction was anger. Only as much anger as the medication would allow, though.

He still felt pretty fuzzy.

“…you can’t just do that,” said Peter. “You can’t just accept on my behalf and force me to go.”

“Sure I can, I already did.” said Mr. Stark. He leaned back in the recliner. “Tell me that you really don’t want to go. Convince me, and I’ll pull my deposit and put it towards a school closer to home.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He, apparently, wasn’t capable of lying even without the drugs, so he didn’t see a point in trying. All that was left was the truth.

“I can’t leave May, or Queens.”

“Your aunt is more than capable of protecting herself,” said Mr. Stark. “And you know she wouldn’t want you to sit out of college her behalf. She would never forgive herself, and besides, I’ll still be here.”

“Spider-Man –“

“-will take a break.”

Peter didn’t attempt anymore arguments. There wasn’t any Mr. Stark wouldn’t easily counter, and there wasn’t any energy left in him to try it. He was going to MIT in the fall. It was inevitable now, and different, because he could blame Mr. Stark for it every time he felt like it was selfish. It was a better gift than paying his tuition, really. That he could go to the college he wanted and push all the guilt on Mr. Stark for manipulating the situation.

He’d still feel bad about leaving Aunt May, of course, but he figured Mr. Stark was right. She would feel bad if he didn’t go, and he’d end up feeling terrible either way.

The conversation was officially over, so Mr. Stark provided him with more painkillers, a cold-pack for his swelling eyes, a glass of water and a demand for him to get some rest. The pills made him sleep, and when he woke up, he felt better. Still hurt, but better than the night before. Well enough even to get up and try to move around on the crutches.

He found Mr. Stark in the workshop and stopped, sudden and shocked, at the shiny car sitting in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter. He leaned on the crutches, putting his full weight there instead of his good leg. “How long was I asleep?”

“Just the night,” said Mr. Stark. “And half the day. Why?”

“What is that?”

“Your car,” he said. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“No. This… this can’t be the same car.”

The car they’d be working on was rusty and falling apart despite all their effort. This one looked new and fast.

“Maybe I put some custom parts in it,” he said. There were a few seconds of silence. “Maybe I put a lot of custom parts in it.”

“May’s going to flip.”

“She’s not going to be thrilled about those bruises, either, genius, but I figured it’ll be better if we get it over with all at the same time.”

Peter nodded, and Mr. Stark was correct. She wasn’t thrilled with his broken leg, or his black-eyes and bruises. He had returned to the couch in the penthouse living room when she arrived. She sat next to him, looking him over, and apologized.

“I should’ve known,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

Hearing her apologize hurt worse than any of his injuries. This one was Peter’s fault. Otto turned out to be crazy only by chance. He only stumbled into some scheme he didn’t even understand, and next time, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. That eventually May would date someone normal, who wasn’t Ben, and he’d have to accept that, from miles away in Massachusetts.

Thanks to Mr. Stark’s meddling he didn’t have much time left in Queens. Just a few weeks.

“I’m sorry too,” said Peter. “I promise I won’t go all Mr. Stark on you next time you date someone… unless there really is –“

May narrowed her eyes.

“I promise I won’t stalk your next boyfriend.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” said May. She looked around the big, empty living room. “Where’s Tony? He said he had something to show me…”

Peter happily directed her to the workshop, happy for once someone else was in trouble and not him. That he had nothing to do with the under authorized upgrades on his graduation present. He watched her disappeared into the elevator, preferring the couch over front seats to seeing May berate Mr. Stark about the car. He needed the rest to heal, and anyway, he was pretty sure he’d be able to hear the shouting that he knew was coming.

#irondad #my fic #irondad fic #Peter parker #Tony stark #whump #Peter Parker whump #Peter vs may's boyfriend #retro post

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