#anyway i guess everything built up & i had to have a good loud cry just now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Calling... | Juyeon (tbz)

Juyeon tbz! x f! reader

Summary:

Long distance is hard, even for people like you and Juyeon.

Genre: angst, some fluff, LDR relationship

A/N: some self-indulgent angst because I’ve been feeling low these days and have nowhere/no one to vent it to.

-----

"We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I promise.”

That promise. You’re not sure whether that’s a curse or a blessing. Every single day becomes a torturous game between wanting to give up everything that you’ve built with the man of your dreams and pushing forward towards the happy ending you’ve always hoped for.

It was easier in the beginning. Maybe because you were both so new to the prospect of love, that you didn’t know what you were missing from each other. It only grew harder the more the years went by and though some people said that the pain gets easier, you’re not quite sure whether they’ve supposedly missed out the part where you keep falling deeper in love with him every day.

Maybe if you didn’t love him so much, it would hurt less. And god, you wished that would happen. You wished a miraculous cure would numb the swell in your chest every time you had a spare moment to think of what Juyeon was doing. You wished that it would stop the familiar burn of tears tearing your throat apart every time you forced yourself to keep down your choked cries for the sake of not crying. Because you were sick of that too.

This kind of pain is toxic and unsurmountable, to an extent that you start wondering whether life would be easier without Juyeon around.

"A few more months Y/N,” Juyeon says, face taking up your phone screen as you put the device onto your nightstand in favour of curling your knees up to your chest. You’re trying very hard not to cry, and hope that he can’t see the silent tears slipping past your lids, “it’ll go by quickly, I--”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you mumble out, having already heard this mantra over a thousand times. It’s the same thing, after all. A few more months, a little bit more time, just a little-- you’re so fed up of all this waiting, of everyone telling you the exact same thing.

You’re so sick of it. You can’t even look at the camera anymore.

"Where...Where do you think we stand?” comes his question. A little hesitant, but without any stutter. And when you look back at his face, you notice the downward cast of his eyes, the saddening turn of his lower lip.

It’s hurting him just as much and you hate it. You hate how guilty you feel about dragging him into this when he’s only just a victim.

“What do you mean?” you ask softly.

Juyeon takes a soft breath, exhales, “like...do you think we have a hundred percent chance? Or...fifty percent? Or...”

He trails off, but you understand what he means, and shrug while scratching the back of your head, “definitely not a fifty,” you say, biting your lip, “and...there’s nothing that can make me say we’re less than a hundred, but...”

You’re not certain what to say there. It’s touchy, and you don’t want to hurt your boyfriend more than you are at this particular moment.

If you had been asked a question a year earlier, there is no doubt your answer would’ve straight up been a hundred percent. And you’d say it with confidence too, Juyeon knows that.

But it hurts so fucking much.

It hurts so much that it’s the only thing you can think about every day.

It makes you sad. It makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry because there is literally nothing else you can do to take your mind off it.

"Do you...are you--" his voice wobbles, then breaks off without courage of actually saying the words out loud, "I--"

You shake your head, lips trembling as you murmur, "I'm not--I`m not gonna do that, Juyeon."

You fear that saying the words out loud might make it come true. And you don't want to imagine what that would be like, even if you entertain the possibility at the back of your mind.

The silence overcrowds the distance between you and the phone. For a minute, you can't bear to meet Juyeon's eyes. Your fingers start picking your nails apart, a nervous habit you've manifested whenever you get anxious.

When Juyeon speaks next, his words are laced with pain and he doesn't even try holding back a sob, "please," he exhales shakily and even from your tiny screen, you can see the redness lining his eyes, "please don't break up with me."

Your heart aches at the sadness etched onto his features, "I'm not," you repeat it more firmly then, "I won't."

He doesn't answer. But then again, you've probably shocked him to the core.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," you say quietly.

"No, it's okay. I--" running a hand through his dark locks, you note his jaw clenching, "I didn't know you felt this way. I'm the one that should be sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It is, though isn't it?" He chuckles emptily, "I guess I...I'm not doing enough."

"That's not it, Juyeon. It hurts a lot. This, everything. And I'm just tired. I'm tired of always crying. I'm just so fucking tired."

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

----

The weather has gotten warmer now that June is in full swing. Your final semester is over and that means a little bit of freedom before starting your job search. It is enjoyable and peaceful, walking across town with your friends, meeting up at odd hours of the day and finding new treasures that your town has to offer.

You are currently in the middle of parking your bike next to the harbourfront when your phone suddenly buzzes in your pant leg.

"Hey," you say as you pick up the receiver, "what's up?"

"Hey," there's a little bit of static before Juyeon'a voice comes through, "I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm at the harbourfront. Getting some air."

"That's nice," a pause, then, "how was it?"

"I think I might have enjoyed it more than I should've," you tell him as you walk up to the edge of the harbour. The water lolls peacefully against the edge and it calms you down, as the talk has earlier, "it helped. A lot."

He breathes out softly, "that's good to hear. How...how do you feel?"

"Surprisingly serene."

"Woah, fancy description."

You can't help but laugh at that, "thanks. I try."

A comfortable silence fills the air and you lean down, hand outstretched to catch some of the waves lapping up along the edge, "and you?" It's been a while since you've managed to speak to Juyeon properly. You miss him, "how have you been?"

"Oh you know," you hear him shuffle, "keeping myself busy. I started working at a skateboard shop. It's been...interesting."

"Do you even know how to skateboard?"

"I can stand straight on one. Does that count?"

You giggle, "no, you goon. You actually have to be able to skate on it."

You talk for a little while longer as you enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with a breathtaking view. Even more breathtaking as the sun slowly sets over the horizon and giving bloom to hues of orange and salmon pink bleeding into the clear blue sky.

It has been nice to talk to someone. As per Juyeon's request a few weeks earlier, you had decided to sign up for a free counselling session. You weren't a big fan of people poking around your thoughts and feelings, but the consultation had actually been really enjoyable. To unleash everything that you've been carrying in your heart is a weight that has suddenly lifted off your chest, and you feel shades lighter as you spend the reat of your evening roaming through town, getting your groceries, walking along the pavement back to your flat.

"I gotta go now," Juyeon says as you unlock your front door, "Changmin's been bugging my ass for thirty minutes."

"Well please tell him I have nothing to do with this."

"You had everything to do with this."

"Lying will get you nowhere."

"And I will tell him anyway," he singsongs, causing you to chuckle good-naturedly. That is, before the next words come to shake up your heart a little.

"I miss you."

You smile softly, sadness combing through your chest, "I do too, Juyeon."

"Stay safe, okay?"

"You too."

"Talk soon Y/N," his voice is filled with a gentleness that makes your heart sing, and you repeat back the said words, a mixture of melancholy and fondness blooming inside your chest.

Ending the call and setting down your groceries atop the kitchen counter, your eyes find the date circled in red.

Your lips curl into a smile.

----

"Flight A472 has arrived. Travelers, please make your way to the luggage section.“

The intercom buzzes with static to repeat the earlier statement and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as you slowly get up from your seat. You've been waiting at the nearby fast food joint until now, and it's no surprise that your butt feels numb and flat.

Stretching your limbs and picking uo your bag, you sling your navy coat over your shoulder and make your way towards the arrivals. The airport is deserted at this time of night and you're grateful, for it gives your heart more time to prepare for the man you haven't seen in over eight months.

Eight months. Eight months is a long time. It's almost the time it takes for a baby to be born. You flush at the thought, wondering whether Juyeon sees you in his future just as permanently as you see him.

"Who are you waiting for?" Your head swivels to see an older woman, in her late fifties, with a handbag slung over her shoulder and a burgundy scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Oh, uh--" heat travela up the back of your neck, "someone close. And you?"

"My daughter. I haven't seen her in over two years," the woman smiles fondly, "it's hard, isn't it? Not being able to see your close ones every day."

"Yeah," you mumble, "it sure is."

Your gaze is now fixated on the sliding doors now that people have started walking out. One by one, you watch as strangers hug their families, laughing and smiling. A couple is embracing in a nearby corner. And the old woman brightening up and waving at the sight of her daughter pulling up her luggage.

Your chest can't help but swell with emotion. What a beautiful thing to be admire the magic of a reunion. Tears rush to your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of love radiating through your veins and bathinf your limbs in warmth.

"Y/N."

You freeze. Slowly, you turn around and see Juyeon.

Your Juyeon.

He stands there, backpack on his shoulders and hair ruffled. A luggage at his side and sporting a grin.

Your heart explodes.

Heat rushes through your face, mouth opening in a soft 'oh'.

"Juyeon," his name rolls off your lips.

You're breathless. Everything falls out of focus.

Juyeon. Juyeon is here.

Everything happens so fast. You blink and you're in his arms, his warmth engulfinf you, his scent making you light-headed, his lips permanently pressed against your temple as your hands unconsciously scrabble to hold on to his hoodie like he's a dream you don't want to let go.

It's magical. It feels like a goddamn miracle.

You can't help but burst into tears.

"Oh god," Juyeon's chuckle echoes through your ear. He tightens his grip ever so slightly and kisses your forehead, the corner of your eye while stroking your back.

You cling to him like he's your only lifeline, "I missed you," you sob into his shirt, "I missed you so much."

"It's okay," he cooes into your ear, one hand coming up to smooth over your head, "I'm here now, Y/N."

"I--" emotions rush through you like a dam broken down by the tides and suddenly you're babbling everything you've kept hidden in the grooves of your heart, "I'm so sorry for everything, I-- I was hurt and scared and lonely. I didn't think about how this distance affected you too and I'm sorry I made you go through all this when you did nothing wrong, I--"

Your words get muffled by his lips pressing onto yours to stop any other protests and you melt into him like coming home with open arms. His arms pin your middle to his chest, parting your mouth with his and taking your breath away with every suckle, every nibble. It makes you gasp, clutching his shoulders and returning his kisses with just as much vigor.

"You," he breathes against your parted mouth, "are everything I want," pulling back to press his forehead to yours, he continues, "so don't you dare think for one second, that you're in this alone. You're never alone, Y/N."

"I love you," you murmur, nose brushing his. He kisses you once more, heat lingering between you and claiming your affection for him, "I love you too."

You know that this isn't the end. A path of tears and pain and struggle still await you. The mountain is high and steep, a tough climb that makes youe legs tremble.

But you know now, looking into Juyeon's eyes and seeing the magic in there, the dripping affection that makea your fingers tingle, that this is it. There's nobody else, nothing else you want than Lee Juyeon.

Because if there's one thing for sure is that Juyeon's hand is the one you want to take, to make that climb happen.

"Wanna get out of here and tell me everything I've missed out about you?" Juyeon whispers upon finally detangling himself, though still holding on to your shoulder as he gently pulls you towards the exit.

"Only if you tell me everything I've missed about you," you reply.

He chuckles, before pressing another lingering kiss over your cheek, "deal."

219 notes · View notes

rosesdrabbleblog · 3 years

Text

Farewell, My Dear

Pairing: c!Wilbur x gen!reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, hopeful ending

Notes: I wanted to write angst at one point, but didn't think I would be inspired the way I was to do so. This is sort of vent writing, I guess. But I am proud of it. Also to cause even further pain: have fun reading the ending when you know how Ghostbur dies.

You weren’t necessarily childhood friends with Wilbur Soot. In fact, you had known him for around ten to eleven months. But it seemed like you had known him forever. And while you had sworn you wouldn’t fall for him, you did anyway. You weren’t sure what it was, the cute little names he gave you, the compliments he randomly threw at you, his beautiful brown eyes, his smile that made you smile, his stupid jokes....you liked everything about him. I mean, who wouldn’t?

You did everything together. It seemed like you two had talked every day to the point other friends would go “hey, you never hang out with me anymore!” But you couldn’t hear it over the loud beating of your heart as he spoke to you. All of your senses were just flooded with him, and him only.

The unfortunate thing was, Wilbur Soot was in love. He spoke of her often, showing you an image of a smiling girl on a beach. Sally was her name, and she was his everything. "Oh, you'd love her, darling. She's just....wonderful," he'd tell you. You always smiled and nodded, listening to him talk about how him and Sally were going out later that day, or talking about what they did on the beach. Your heart ached at his words, but you had gotten very good at hiding your pain. You thanked whatever was up above that he didn’t live near you, otherwise he’d know just how often you cried yourself to sleep thinking about him.

“I’m so happy for you,” you’d lie, smiling widely as he talked about her. “Good for you!” you’d say when he brought up that the two of them were becoming official. And when he told you he had a son....you felt like the world was crashing down on you. You didn’t even get to meet Fundy, only hearing about Wilbur’s “little champion” from letters he sent. You still remember the simple goodbye he had given when he moved away. He promised he’d send letters, and always be there for you. "Do not worry, my sweet friend, I will fill you in on absolutely everything," he swore. “I know you will,” you had said as you waved goodbye.

But he didn’t keep his promise for long.

The last letter you received from your dearest Wilbur was from years ago. In the letter, he spoke of nothing but Sally and Fundy, talking about how excited he was to finally have a family. You wrote a simple “I’m so glad, Wilbur,”back along with a few things about your day, but your letter never got a response.

You waited for years before you finally got something. It was running into Phil one day.

Phil greeted you warmly after you ran over to say hello, remembering you from a couple of Wilbur's letters. It was from Phil you leaned that Wilbur apparently established a nation with his son and a few others, him being elected president of said nation. “He seemed rather happy in all his letters, but they...they stopped a bit ago,” Phil said. He told you he was going to go check on Wilbur, and that he would let you know what he was up to when he got back.

You received a letter a few days after, one that made you slam your fist into a wall, letting out sobs. He was gone. Wilbur had apparently lost it, and begged his own father to kill him. You couldn’t even find the strength to send a letter back. Your sunshine...your everything...was gone.

You found yourself standing by the ruins of a podium, by a nation standing on its last legs that the man you cared for had built so long ago. You couldn’t even find the energy to cry anymore, all the pain now a dull ache in your heart. You finally got to meet the friends he had spoken of, the son he left behind. Fundy didn’t seem like the little champion Wilbur had spoken of. He seemed nervous and quiet, and the things he told you....it was then you realized the Wilbur you knew had been gone for a while.

You sighed as you watched the lanterns over L’Manburg light up the night. Watched as the young president of the nation walk along, talking excitedly his best friend. Watched as life continued on without Wilbur Soot.

You turned from your spot and came face to face with a pale figure, whose black eyes bore into you. You gasped, “Wil-Wilbur?”

The sight before you was a painful one. A figure who was only a shell of the man you once knew. Wearing a yellow sweatshirt that you remembered all too well from the past. A fluffy blue sheep stayed at his side, pushing its head into his hand.

“Oh...hello! I’m Ghostbur!” the figure greeted you with a small smile, “I assume you’re a friend of Alivebur, yes?” He frowned as you began to cry, “oh no, here. Have some blue,” he said as he shoved some blue into your hands. You stopped crying after a minute, staring down at the material in your hands. “Wh-what?” you asked, confused by the situation. “Oh! So blue takes away your sadness! I give it to everyone nowadays,” he explained cheerfully. You wanted to ask how he was here, how he was a ghost, but you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you let Ghostbur introduce you to his sheep, named Friend. You let him explain what he could to you, despite the fact that he had clear memory issues, and even though his eyes no longer chocolate brown, or himself being alive, you saw the Wilbur you had known. Cheerful, caring, kind....

Maybe this was another chance for you. A strange one, but maybe...

Maybe you could have one more chance with your sunshine.

#c!wilbur #c!wilbur x reader #ghostbur #ghostbur x reader #mcyt x reader #angst #almost cried while writing this lol

108 notes · View notes

bluesfortheredj · 4 years

Text

The spy who loved me.

Smut ahead. Like, seriously. Smut.

It had been a long time, a very long time, since seeing Eggsy. Even professional spies weren’t immune to the restrictions and rules when it came to lockdown. The daily texts, phone calls, and video chats had satiated your need for contact with him only so much, and you were both desperate for some intimacy with one another in person. At this point even the thought of holding his hand was enough to make you feel giddy; those slender fingers of his linked with yours again before exploring your body… it was positively breath taking.

Eggsy had stayed in London with his mum and sister in the new house he’d purchased for them only a couple of weeks before the world turned upside down and finally, now that lockdown was being lifted and you could form bubbles with other households, you were on your way to join them thanks to your job allowing you to continue to work from home; not that you were planning on working too much when you arrived. Butterflies were fluttering around your stomach as you pull up on the driveway and see his car parked half in and half out of the garage, and when you knock on the door your heart leaps as you see his familiar shadowy figure walk towards it.

He opens the door with a breathy ‘hey’ and you immediately fall into his chest before his arms wrap themselves around the body he’d missed so very much the last few months. The two of you stand there for what seems like hours yet minutes all at the same time, only separating when you shiver from the cool breeze blowing around both of you in the doorway. His hands stay on your arms as he leans away with a smile to take in the sight of you standing there in person finally, then he bends down to scoop your suitcase up and leads you inside, kicking the door shut behind you both.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he sighs in disbelief as places your luggage down at the foot of the stairs before taking you through to the large lounge, “is this actually real?”

You press your lips to his in what begins as quite an innocent kiss but ends as a desperate, sloppy, heated embrace as he pushes you against the nearest wall before his hands begin to explore every inch of skin he can possibly touch underneath your top. Your hands grab at his jeans blindly, trying to find his belt so you could set him free from the confines of his underwear, and the two of you are freely moaning at the heightened feel of touching one another after so long. Neither of you hear the front door open and then close again, and Eggsy’s mum has to loudly clear her throat for the two of you to even notice that someone else was in the room.

“Shit!” Eggsy gasps, facing away as he does his jeans up.

“Oh my god,” you whisper with hot cheeks as you smooth your clothes down, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Unwin.”

“Sorry mum!”

“I think it can be forgiven under the current circumstances,” she chuckles, “good to see you again (Y/N)!”

Daisy sits in her pram giggling at her own foot and your heart melts at the sight of her, “it’s lovely to see you both, Daisy’s grown so much!”

“She’s eating us out of house and home!” Michelle exclaims, “she’s going through the longest growth spurt I’ve ever known of!”

“Well that’s lucky, because a little birdie told me that she’s partial to a certain dinosaur shaped biscuit, and I happen to have a couple of packs of them in my suitcase.”

“You’re a life saver,” she sighs in relief, “Eggsy, why don’t you show her around the house? I guess you didn’t quite get that far...”

“Will do mum,” he nods as a blush creeps up his cheeks, “this way.”

He picks your suitcase up and leads you up the floating staircase as you take in the very modern and expensive surroundings you now find yourself in.

“Bloody hell Eggs, this house is amazing!” you exhale in disbelief as your fingers glide along the wall.

“Nice, init?”

“Nice? Bit of an understatement!”

“Wait until you see our room… the walk in shower is to die for,” he says with a wink and a light bite of his lip, “plus we’re the opposite end of the top floor so we don’t need to be too quiet.”

You give his arm a playful slap and he takes your hand as the two of you head to his side of the house and the more than generous bedroom he got to call his own until life could continue as normal. It felt as if you were in an episode of Grand Designs with how modern and clean everything was, and you walk through the wardrobe space with long rails either side of you filled with variations of the same suit to the extravagant en suite with charcoal tiles lining the floor and walls and the biggest walk in shower you’d ever seen in your life; only one sheet of glass slap bang in the middle of the room to separate the shower area and the toilet and sink.

“This is literally bigger than my flat,” you groan, “I think I need to become a spy as well.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Eggsy scolds as his brow furrows, “anyway, you’ve got me, and what’s mine is yours.”

“Yeah but that’s not fair for me to rely on you like that, plus I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“Uh… I would disagree with that statement…”

“Huh?” you question as you look up at the square shower head and wonder what it must feel like underneath it.

You’re so transfixed by the fitting you don’t even notice Eggsy creep up to you until his sultry breath flows over your ear, “you have plenty to give me,” he whispers.

You shiver involuntarily as his fingers creep their way around your hips before walking along into the waistband of your jeans. Your head rolls back to lean on his shoulder as your hands grip firmly onto his forearms while his fingers tease your lips apart and stroke along your hidden folds gently, and you can feel his own excitement at the intimate touch against your backside.

“What would you two like for dinner?” Michelle shouts up the stairs, tearing you both away from your quiet moment and forcing you back to reality with a jolt.

Eggsy groans in frustration as he reluctantly retracts his hands from your body and you find yourself now completely worked up and more than ready for him to show you exactly what you’d been missing the last few months. A sigh escapes your lips as you steady yourself on the shower screen and Eggsy can see just how desperate you are to continue what he’d just started.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t realise how much I missed that.”

What the two of you needed right now was, quite simply, a fuck; something that would just purely release the initial tension that had built during lockdown. You had plenty of time to make love romantically now that you were staying there, and you could take your time with it hen Michelle and Daisy were out doing the food shop or something, but what you needed at this precise moment was a quick and messy release. The two of you look at one another, knowing exactly what was going to happen, and Eggsy quickly runs downstairs to give his mum an idea of what you wanted to eat that would take at least half an hour or so to give you a small window of opportunity.

“Right,” he exhales as he shuts the bedroom door behind him when he returns, “oh…” he pauses as he sees you’re already in his bed, your clothes and underwear in a pile on the floor next to it, and he discards his own clothing on his way over to you.

“How long have we got?” you ask as he settles on top of your body and adjusts the duvet accordingly.

“Like half an hour I think?” he grins before removing his glasses and leaning down to kiss you.

He’s almost pressing his entire body weight onto you as your mouths move around one another’s in a sloppy kiss that’s more teeth and saliva than anything else in all honesty, and your hands are grabbing at every inch of skin you can get a hold of as he manoeuvres himself between your legs hastily and carefully guides his length inside your already slick walls that had been waiting for him for what seemed like so long. The sensation of him inside you and his body on top of yours once more is overwhelming, and it doesn’t take you long to fall into a fast and needy rhythm as you two of you moan unashamedly while the bed rocks beneath you. This is exactly what you both needed; passionate, hot, fast, handsy, loud sex. It was purely to scratch an itch that was in desperate need of attention, and as the need to orgasm heightens with each deep thrust you find yourselves going out of rhythm as the aching for release takes over.

“Eggsy… Eggsy!” you moan as his lips attempt to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I ain’t gonna last,” he pants against your skin.

The sound of your bodies slapping against one another in quick succession drifts up from underneath the duvet and the two of you are truly lost in the haze of impending orgasms just as Michelle opens the door while asking a question that isn’t even distinguishable to either of you until there’s a gasp at the doorway which shocks you both to stillness.

“Mum!” Eggsy shouts, “get out!”

She quickly retreats and slams the door shut before you hear her practically running away down the landing towards the stairs. You look up at Eggsy who slowly turns to face you, then his lips land on yours within seconds as his hips start up again; his stiff member filling you with ease as your legs wrap around his backside.

“You know I love you,” he breathes heavily between intermittent pants.

“I know,” you nod, “I love you too.”

“Good,” he smiles, then leans his head down and bites onto your breast so he can flick his tongue over your nipple.

You cry out with pleasure at his sudden move and your hands weave their way through his hair to keep him where he is as your muscles begin to tense inside, ready for the much needed release. Before you can get to yours though, Eggsy lets out a hot, stuttered breath over your chest and his entire body tenses as he finally lets go with the longest groan you’d ever heard him make. He soldiers on after his climax and with some encouragement from his thumb rubbing over your sweet spot, you soon clench around him and release to the sound of whispered pants of his name which are emanating from your throat without you even realising. You blink away the stars in your eyes and finally look at his satisfied face hovering above you, then he flops down next to you and takes your hand in his as you both catch your breath.

“You do realise I will never be able to look your mum in the eye again, right?” you chuckle after a few moments of silence.

“Same,” he grimaces playfully, “I think we’ll just hide up here the rest of the night.”

could you make it as smutty as possible with some fluff, there visiting his parents back home and they can’t keep their hands off each other and his parents notice but don’t say anything until his mum walks in on them on the sofa in a very heated and handsy make out they apologise and try forget what happened but then she walks in on them the next evening in his room having sex there embarrassed again but still continue after she has left as they just can’t get enough of each other – Taron or Eggsy – @sarahegerton96

#eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin fanfic #eggsy unwin x reader #taron egerton #eggsy unwin smut

743 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

fine line - p.p

chapter 4

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly, assuming the answer would be a definite no.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, making you recall the time your dad told you he would surprise you. Peter sat down next to you, giving you your space but still close enough to comfort you. You heard him chuckle after a beat of silence and looked at him curiously.

“You know, that’s the first time you ever called me Peter.” He commented, looking at you with a half smile.

“I’ve called you Peter before.” You insisted in your hoarse voice.

“No. I would’ve remembered if you did.” He chuckled. “You always call me Parker.”

“Oh. I guess I do.” You realized as Peter reached forward and wiped your tear with his thumb. You held eye contact with his and he dragged his thumb down your cheek, letting his warmth assuage your pain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, giving him a weak smile.

“No problem.” Peter said sincerely. “This is the longest we’ve been in a room together without yelled at each other. It’s also the closest you’ve ever let me near you.”

“Sorry.” You said as you got ready to move. “I can move over-“

“No, it’s okay.” Peter stopped you by placing a hand on your arm. “I want you close.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to hide how happy his sentence made you. Despite how awful you treated him, he was always kind to you. Usually his generosity made you even angrier, but you didn’t have the strength to hate him tonight.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me. I’ve never been nice to you.” You shook your head and look down at the box of tissues in shame.

“I believe in treating people how you’d like to be treated. You’re also letting me be nice to you, which is a nice change.” Peter cracked a smile as he brushed your wilting curls out of your face. You leaned into his hand for a moment, closing your eyes as you finally felt peace.

“I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly, making Peter raise his eyebrows. “You said I hated you before. I don’t, really. I’m sorry I made you think I did.”

“I’m sorry too. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I didn’t even want to move in. Mr. Stark insisted, he thought I’d be able to keep you company.” Peter laughed slightly, feeling the irony of his statement.

“Then why did you?” You wondered. You always thought it had been Peters idea to move in as a way to reap the full benefits of being an Avenger, but it turned out you were wrong.

“My aunt just got this job at a charity and she absolutely loves it, it just takes up all her time.” Peter explained. “It’s the first time I’ve seen her happy since my uncle passed and I didn’t want her to chose between her job and taking care of me, so I moved in here. I…I didn’t know Mr. Stark was gonna take me on all the missions and stuff.” Peter said softly. “I never meant to take your place.”

You opened your mouth and quickly shut it, feeling incredibly stupid and guilty for how you’d been treating him.

“I didn’t know that. Any of that, I didn’t...I didn’t know.” You said quietly as your eyes filled with regret.

“You and I don’t talk much.” Peter shrugged sadly. You tilted your head to the side, looking at him sympathetically in an entirely new light.

“You were right before, you know.” You told him. “I am jealous of you for being my dads favorite.”

“Y/n, I was just saying that.” Peter apologized. “That’s not how I really feel and it’s definitely not true.”

You looked straight ahead at your deep blue bedroom walls and let out a sigh, knowing the impending conversation wouldn’t be easy.

“He wanted a boy.” You said after a beat of silence, busying yourself with your fingernails so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

“What?”

“When he adopted me. He wanted a boy.” You explained further, feeling a blush of embarrassment cover your face and neck.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Peter shook his head as he shifted a little closer.

“Yes it is.” You smiled sadly. “They did all these family matching events at my foster home when I was a kid and he would always stop by. I always saw him talking to the boys. He never signed any papers though, I think he was just browsing.” You chuckled, and Peter did too.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s difficult to talk about.” Peter said kindly as he rested a hand on your knee.

“I want to tell you so you can understand.” You insisted, feeling like this was your best shot at an apology.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“I never got picked.” You came outright with it. “I would show up to these events in my best dress and biggest smile and watch all my friends get taken home by some family, even if it was just for a test run, but nobody ever picked me. It gets to you after a while.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Peter sympathetically squeezed your knee.

“No, it’s okay. If some other family had wanted me, I wouldn’t have ended up with my dad.”

“You’re really strong for being able to see the bright side of all this. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Peter shook his head as he got a look into your history.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled softly at him, letting him know you were no longer upset.

“How did you end up with Mr. Stark?” Peter wondered.

“He came pretty late one day, after an event had been going on for a while. He had Pepper with him that time, I guess he finally convinced her to come. By the time he arrived, all the boys had already been taken, and I could just see the disappointment in his face. Then he made eye contact with me.” You smiled to yourself. “I had seen him there so many times, but this was the first time we interacted. I had on this fluffy pink princess dress to make myself look more presentable. He saw me and laughed.”

“Princess. That’s why he calls you princess.” Peter made the connection.

“So you’re not as dumb as I thought.” You teased him, playfully this time, as you nudged him. “He bent down in front of me and asked if I’d like to live in his castle for the week, and I said yes. After the week was up, he brought a suitcase to my foster home. He said my suitcase matched his because we were a family now. It was the first thing that had ever been mine, you know? Not a hand me down or anything. It was mine. Those suitcases are all worn out now, but we still use them for every mission. At least, we used to.”

“Thats why you were upset he threw his out. Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of this. You never - - You don’t talk to me.” Peter’s voice was pained as he got the full picture of why the fight had upset you as much as you did.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that. I know this doesn’t justify why I treat you the way I do, but I hope it explains it a little.” You looked at him apologetically. “It’s dumb but I always saw those suitcases as a symbol of our family. And then he goes and throws them out to buy one for you. Not that I would need one anyway since he stopped bringing me on missions and I just, I don’t know, I felt replaced.”

“That’s not dumb.” Peter insisted. “Mr. Stark likes having me around but I could never replace you. You’re his daughter. I know he spends a lot of time with me but that doesn’t mean he wanted a boy.”

“That’s not the only thing, though.” You continued. “When I got to his house for the first time, before the tower was even built, he already had a room set up. Blue walls and little shirts with sports slogans on them told me what I already knew. He wanted a boy. He wanted you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a shirt with a sports slogan on it.” Peter slipped a joke in, making you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, well. You check all his other boxes.” You reminded him. “You’re smarter than me, better at technology than I am, and you’re a freaking superhero for crying out loud. I can’t do half the things you can and he knows it. And when you guys save the world together or build these amazing inventions, it’s like you’re rubbing in all the things I could never do with him. It just reminds me that you’re what he wanted.”

“So are you. He loves you.”

“I don’t doubt he loves me. I just doubt I’d be his first choice.” You shrugged sadly. “You and I are both orphans and if you hadn’t had your aunt and uncle to take care of you, you would’ve ended up in the same place as me. And if you had been there that day at the event…”

“You think Mr. Stark would’ve chosen me, not you.” Peter finished your sentence, and everything made sense to him at once.

“Yeah.” You whispered as tears filled your red rimmed eyes once again. “I’m sorry I don’t call you by your name. I’m sorry I’m mean to you and push you away. But you have to understand, you’re not someone I ever wanted to know. And when you say things like him preferring you, I believe you.”

“I never should’ve said that. I wish we had this conversation when I first moved in.” Peter sighed heavily. “I would’ve understood you so much better. And I…I wanted to understand you.”

“You did?” You jerked your head back in surprise at his statement.

“Yeah. It was kinda a bummer when I realized my mentors extremely beautiful and intelligent daughter hated me.” Peter chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “He talked so highly of you, I wish you could’ve heard it. He’s this world famous billionaire inventor and superhero and his greatest accomplishment is his daughter. It made me really excited to meet you. And then…”

“And then I made your life hell.” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s okay. I still liked you, even if you were mean to me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I could tell you were funny and nice from when I heard you talking to other people. I just didn’t understand why you didn’t like me.”

“I feel like we could’ve been really good friends by now if I hadn’t been so quick to judge you.” You pouted as you looked at him. “I thought you were taking advantage of my dads money of something. You’re actually a really good guy. I should’ve listened the first 50 times me dad told me that.”

“We can still be friends. I think I’ll be around a while.” He teased your usual hatred of him being around as he bumped his shoulders against yours. You laughed as you moved together, feeling grateful for the second chance he was giving you. Something he had said clung to the back of your mind and in the name of being honest, you brought it up.

“Do you…do you really think I’m beautiful?” You asked curiously as you looked at him. A blush spread from Peters nose bridge all the way to the tips of his ears when he realized you caught his subtle compliment.

“Um, don’t you?” He shrugged, answering your question with a question to put the ball back in your court. Your lips twitched into a smile before you looked away, feeling flustered in place of your usual disdain.

“To answer your question from before, my date was lame.” You shrugged. “Harry was on his phone the whole time, something about fantasy football? I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. Rich people are like, super boring.”

“I thought you liked him? Last I heard, you wanted to be his girlfriend.” Peter couldn’t help from rolling his eyes as he spoke.

“Oof.” You clicked your tongue. “If you haven’t figured out by now that I played up my feelings for Harry to make you jealous, then maybe you’re not smarter than me.”

“You wanted to make me jealous?” Peter repeated for confirmation. “It worked, but why?”

“Do you want to know the number one thing that annoyed me about you?” You asked him, the fight a distant memory now.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Peter chuckled as he rested his head in his hands to look at you.

“No matter how much I disliked you,” you shook your head and shrugged slightly, “I always liked you more.”

“I thought you said you would never like me.” Peter recalled, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you moved closer to him, sitting on his thigh and resting your hand on his shoulder, “I guess I had a change of heart.”

“Well.” Peter looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “What ever am I going to do about that?” He said slowly as he drummed his fingers on your leg.

“Yeah. What are you gonna do about it, Parker?” You brought back his old nickname to really push him.

“I have a few ideas, Princess.” Peter mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands immediately went to his hair, tugging it for all the times he made you stressfully tug at yours.

“You drive me crazy with all your eye rolling.” Peter said between kisses as he pushed you down on the bed. “Nobody is that annoyed all the time.”

“Every time I saw you in the lab I hoped you’d burn your hand on the benson burner.” You confessed as you trailed kisses on his jawline.

“I hate when you leave your cereal bowls out. Do you know how disgusting almond milk looks when it’s left out? Ugh it made me so mad.” Peter groaned as he pinned you to the bed.

“I hate when you’re in the kitchen when I’m baking. You’re so annoying.” You whined, tilting your head up to kiss him.

“You’re so annoying.” He shot back as he pulled you closer.

“I cannot stand you.” You shook your head before kissing him again. “At all.”

“That makes two of us, princess.” Peter gave you a cocky smirk as his hand traveled up your leg.

“I told you not to call me that, daddy.” You shot back, making Peter gulp. You laughed wickedly and propped yourself up on your elbows. “Thats what I thought. You’re all talk.”

“That wasn’t fair.” He growled, teeth grazing your earlobe now.

“You just can’t handle it.” You teased him.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Peter said simply as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Same.” You laughed at the irony. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluffykiwi @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spidey-reids-2003 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @spideydreamers @parkerpeter24 @cherrym4rk @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @ziggyspurplehaze @frustratingpaperclip @bbreadroll @theincredibledeadlyviper @lil-mellow-bunbun @cocoamoonmalfoy @mariposa-macaroon @mrvelscaptains

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker jealous #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel #spiderman

787 notes · View notes

i8jisoo · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

hyunjin x reader | part four of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff

↬ warnings; pregnancy, lots of cursing (i have a streak), birth, n kkami bein a meanie

↬ notes; ok this might be my fav in the series | 1.5k wc

u and hyunjin actually were broken up when u found out about the pregnancy

u waited (stalled fuck off) until five months since u really didnt know what to do with the news

u kinda feel like ur insane, playing your ex-boyfriends music constantly and watching interviews of him but it kept u company and gave u a reminder that u still needed to tell him

u got this rly cute popped out bump, just rly kinda like those movies but u know its gonna get bigger and grow to have stretch marks

one day ur just sitting on the sofa of your apartment n the next thing u know ur door is being opened and hyunjin is barging in

ofc ur in a sports bras and a pair of basketball shorts cause they r comfortable and shirts r overrated

ur there with set out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate, as well as peppermint sticks on the side just eating them together

ur in the middle of eating a smore u had put together

u swallow ur smore slowly, sucking on ur fingertips n just staring at him

“oh my fucking god- and it’s true?”

ur honestly so confused until u remember u dont have on a shirt n ur bump is showing

ur standing up in a millisecond, hyunjin getting more upset by the second just looking at u

“why— how? how could you just not tell me?”

baby boy has those angry tears and the strained voice hes just so upset and the guilt is setting in for u

“i’m five and a half months.”

fuck hormones cause next thing u know ur crying and u cant do anything to make it stop

u guys really can’t be mad at each-other, ur relationship was filled with nothing but kindness and it ended only because u two felt it was going no where

ofc u two argued about it and in the end hyunjin was the one who walked out

“we can try again. you can move back in right? we can stay together and put back the pieces.”

u agreed n by the next morning he was there to help u pack ur things up n take them back to his place

he ends up seeing the box of baby stuff, with unopened bottle packages and sonograms, as well as a disc that was labelled as your 3D ultrasound

u find him just sitting there, staring at the black and white sonogram with tears freely falling down his cheeks

he doesn't even notice u next to him until ur thumb swipes the tear away from his cheek

u two just smile at each-other, his arm wrapping around u n pulling u in to his side

“that’s our baby?” he asks, not removing his eyes from the little white blob that barely was the size of a jaw breaker n u just whispered, “yea, it is.”

ur relationship doesn’t exactly get back into what it was at first,,

ur both nervous and cautious around each other

at first he insists he can just sleep on the couch so u can take his bed but u insist u both can sleep together

hyunjin doesn’t mean to but he somehow always winds up with his arm around u n ur bump every morning

he will talk to the bump n tell them how they r gonna have the best mommy n daddy 🥺

“did u know ur mommy is one of my favorite people to be with? i know ur gonna hear the story one day of how we became parents but i have always loved her, even when we weren’t together i loved your mommy. i hope one day you will love someone as much as i love your mommy, i hope you get your mommy’s personality bub.”

ur fake sleeping wbk but u dont move so u can let him talk

around eight months u two are way more comfortable n are getting closer

he lets u borrow his clothes because u used to do that even when u weren’t pregnant and he figured they were more comfortable & better looking than ur maternity outfits 😣

he rly goes the whole nine yards, buying anything u can think of for the baby n he’ll sometimes wake u up from ur sleep (if he’s rly excited) just so he can show u what he bought

hyunjin is in love with u and kkami cuddling together

also when ur due date got closer u both def went out for walks with kkami or played in the dog park with kkami

(u couldn’t really be as active as hyunjin but it was fine with u just watching)

something within hyunjin changes n he just gets so shy n flustered around u ^.^

he’s crushing so hard on u and u can guess he is but then again u two were just living together for the pregnancy

it’s probably three in the morning n hyunjin had just came home

ofc u were crying

a rly cute dog ad was playing with a baby in it as well :(

u explain n hiccup while doing so

hes so s o f t at this moment

he presses a soft kiss to ur lips n ur like wow thats um—

he doesn’t even care how shocked u r this man goes back in for more kisses

“i want you, i wanna be a real family. i wanna one day marry you, have more babies or get other dogs, that’s all i’ve ever wanted since the day we met.”

enywayz u two r dating,, a g a i n

spooning half of the time during ur last few weeks of pregnancy, but the boys come over frequently n for some reason jeongin is always bringing presents?? its cute but u guys RLY didn’t need anymore toys for the baby

u guys r just cuddling n he’s got one hand on ur bump before ur like

“ow,, fuck that hurt.”

“hey don’t swear around the baby!”

u just suppose it’s a hard kick since the baby had been active a lot recently n the pains had been occurring often

kkami is very cuddly today n he’s giving u kisses

hyunjin lowkey jealous cause kkami doesn’t ever give him kisses like that ⸜( ⌓̈ )⸝

yall ever seen the thing where dogs know pregnant people the best n they can like SENSE something goin on??

well kkami was on it

baby kkami is sniffing u n just restless in ur lap n its a lil weird cause kkami is ALWAYS sleeping or sitting still cause kkami has turned as lazy as u n hyunjin

u have this feeling but instead u just tell hyunjin u gotta pee :P

newsflash: u didnt n as soon as u got up, boom, theres ur water breaking and running down ur leg

“it feels gross.”

ur literally whining about ur pants while a baby is coming out of ur ... hooha 😳 n hyunjin is freaking out

he’s rushing around the rooms n making sure everything is in the bag and nothing gets left behind

last thing on his mind is changing ur clothes

though he does, putting u in his baggy sweatshirt and a pair of his shorts

hes freaking out lets be honest the thought of u giving birth is fuckin scary

hyunjin is so out of it and spaced out while ur cool n talking normally with pauses everytime theres a contraction

“aish, why are you so worried? i’m the one that should be worried!!”

ur not cool after an u hit the four hours in labor mark

u do not want to be t o u c h e d

touching u is off limits ur so sweaty n ur body feels like its crumbling u cannot deal with someone holding ur hand or holding u

hyunjin just sits there

hes kinda in a different realm while he stares at the clock on the wall

hes so ready to meet the baby but apparently ur body was exactly 4 centimetres not ready :(

hes just trying to distract u by talking with the boys n his other friends, all of the face timing to talk to the parents to be 🥺

yall r wrapping up a call with jeongin when u have the built up pressure feeling again

he doesn’t even explain to jeongin hes so quickly to hang up n ask u whats wrong

“i— it feels like i have to push.”

he’s already pressing the pretty lil white button on ur bed for the nurses n doctors

they confirm that u indeed r ready to push and that the baby is in position

hyunjin trying to take a peek WHAT A WEIRDO

yall hearing ur baby has a head full of hair and u just give hyunjin this look

like WTF no wonder why u had so much heartburn its because of ur fuckin rapunzel baby daddy

here comes the cries, loud n u just heard the quietest sob from beside u which was hyunjin

“it’s a baby boy, congrats!!”

his lil puppy baby boy 🥺

he had a lil pout like his daddy n his brown locks on top of his head

it was kinda creepy how similar they looked

anyways u dont care ur lil boy is p e r f e c t and nobody could dare tell yall different

u would disagree anyways because thats ur lil pouty baby boy n hes so cute 🥺

“we got a pretty good break-up story right? one for the books.”

he’s got baby boy in his arms bundled up but that doesn’t stop u from smacking his arm before kissing him quickly

“yea, we do.”

1K notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 4

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word count: 3.4k

A/n: sorry about the late update! it’s my 18th birthday and it’s 11 pm and i just got home HAHAHA.

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

You were barreling towards death with your eyes closed as your body hit the elevator’s ground, deafening screams emitting from your mouth as you thought, this is it. This is where I die.

Multiple callings of your names sounded through the empty shaft, and you were sure Spider-Man was one of them.

The elevator was hit by a stray metal pole on the right side, but it wasn’t enough to stop it, only enough to cause a dent on the inside. It was like a rollercoaster - slow as it reached the top, but fast and gaining speed as it dropped.

Only, rollercoasters were fun and safe, and didn’t make you feel like The Grim Reaper was welcoming you with open arms like a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.

I’m sorry, you found yourself thinking, over and over again. You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, or to whom, but your life flashed before your eyes like they do in the movies, and only then did you realize that you regretted most of it.

You regretted not begging your mom to stay.

You regretted not asking your dad to be home more often - for you to see him at least more than once a year.

You regretted not going after Peter, you regretted not telling him how you felt, you regretted bullying him. Two wrongs never made a right, and you should’ve known that sooner, but you let your anger blind you.

You weren’t a bully. That simply wasn’t you.

But that was how you were going to die.

You were going to die with everyone believing that you showed your true colors this year, and were proud of it.

I’m sorry.

But it all happened so quickly.

“Gotcha!” Someone said as a figure wrapped itself around your body - warm but stiff and solid. The floor beneath you was long gone, and you wondered if you died, still unwilling to open your eyes to check if you did.

It was proven that you didn’t need to, though.

You heard Peter. Peter and his reassurances: “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He was breathing hard against you, the fabric of his mask straining his voice, but it was still as clear as daylight. The loud crash of the elevator below you echoed through the emptiness, which caused your breath to hitch in fear.

"I got you, Y/n. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise.” He whispered in between pants, hugging you close to his body while you clung to him for dear life, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck, like they had just found their other half and didn’t want to let go.

You were sure you were squeezing the life out of him, but he didn’t complain. He never did.

You couldn’t tell if it was your heart that was beating like a thumping drum or if it was his.

And you lost it, right then and there.

You let harsh sobs wreck through you like a tidal wave. The kind where you felt like your world was falling apart, your fingers tingling and your shoulders feeling heavy, like boulders were trying to weigh you down as the air around you stilled.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He repeated, tightening his arm around your body as salt water made its way down your cheeks and onto your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you wept, voice thick with remorse and head heavy as you dug it into his neck, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “don’t be, you’re okay. We’re okay.”

You knew that he was talking about being alive, but you couldn’t help but look for a double meaning - the other one where he was talking about the destroyed relationship between the two of you.

Still, you kept crying, releasing built-up sadness that you never allowed yourself to release. It felt liberating, to be frank, and if you hadn’t been right on the edge of death for the second time, you’d be embarrassed by the amount of tears you shed.

But you let yourself shed them anyway. Deep down, you knew Peter was the one that left you, but what you were doing, bullying him, wasn’t right, either. This time, you chose to be the bigger person.

Once you calmed down, save for your hiccups, Spider-Man spoke, “Hey,” he gently coaxed you out of your hazy mind, almost as if his words could break you. You knew from experience that they could.

You sheepishly lifted your head and bore your red eyes into his, aware of the fact that you looked like a train wreck. You were sure your head looked like a bird’s nest with your face as red as a tomato, and it mustn’t have been a pretty sight that Spider-Man was getting a close up of.

Your faces were merely inches apart, and it was too easy to imagine his uncovered face this close to you. You felt his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your waist where his arm remained.

“I’m gonna need you to trust me, all right?” He softly asked, “I’m gonna need to jump, but I promise I won’t let go. Okay?”

As soon as he said the word ‘jump’ your brain began spiraling again. You looked above you at the height that he would allegedly leap through, tracing the length of the web that he was holding onto, and then looked down to see how far down you’d fall if you had.

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening and arms subconsciously tightening around him in fear of slipping down, down, down. It seemed to go on forever, like a bottomless pit, but you knew what awaited you at the end of it.

“Don’t look down, don’t look down.”

You glanced back up at him, petrified.

“Just keep your head on my shoulder and close your eyes.”

And eventually, you did, taking deep breathes and allowing yourself to reminisce a time where you’d do exactly what you were doing. You’d hang onto him like you were now, and he’d allow you to, knowing a hug was always what you needed to calm down.

He was your anchor, keeping your ship from sailing away into dark and stormy oceans.

A gush of wind later and your feet were safely planted on stable ground, and he was long gone before you had the chance to say anything.

No opportune time came. It never felt like the right moment, and you thought that it wouldn’t ever come.

Sally had asked that you stay after school to do your hefty science project, and you agreed since you had nothing better to do. And that’s when you saw him most of the time.

Two weeks after the Washington DC. save, you started paying even more attention to him. You noticed him participating in Spanish class more, you saw him stay after school for detention due to him skipping out on Decathlon, and you noticed he didn’t dash out of school when detention was over.

Sure, you felt like a creep just watching him from afar, but you knew something was up. He seemed less enthusiastic, and you were pretty sure it had to do with the fact that Spider-Man sightings dropped to zero, as New York questioned his whereabouts in newspapers you saw in bodegas.

Your guess was that after the ferry incident, Tony Stark took his suit away. Peter was a genius, through and through, but you knew he didn’t have the items necessary to build his suit, and so you guessed Tony made it for him, and had the ability to take it away whenever he pleased. You weren’t sure what the reason was, but you hoped it was a good one.

Even after seeing him multiple times throughout the day, you’d always rush to the bathroom to rehearse your speech in the mirror and hype yourself up, only to chicken out last minute. You wondered if you should text him or call him, asking to meet up, but you always shook your head and thought, “better not.”

Your brain was constantly seeking out chances and imagining different outcomes, and that resulted in your nerves skyrocketing and mind blanking at inappropriate times.

Like right now.

“Y/n!” Flash’s loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Um,” You sheepishly rubbed your arm and bit your lip, avoiding Flash’s questioning eyes.

“Penis Parker is right there! Come on, this is a great opportunity.” He nodded towards Peter who was sitting at the waiting office, tediously toying with the strings of his hoodie. Flash believed you were still in shock, and his way of bringing you back to life was finding opportunities to bully Peter. You used to love it. But now, now you couldn’t bear to do it. Not that he knew that.

Before you could object, Flash strutted his way over to him and leaned on the doorframe, “Yo, Penis Parker.”

Peter closed his eyes and deeply sighed, looking up, “What do you want, Flash?”

“You know, Spider-Man never mentioned anything about knowing you,” He taunted, getting straight to the point, “I mean, he would’ve had he not stood you up at that party. Probably isn’t your first time getting stood up, though, huh?”

He chortled, “I’d bet my life that you probably don’t even have a date to Homecoming. I don’t know who to feel worse for. You, for 100% getting rejected or the girl being asked by you, right, Y/n?”

He twisted his head to see your blank face, your body stiffening as your vision moved to Peter, who was watching you with an almost pained expression, as it brought back memories of the weeks before. The weeks that felt like they happened years ago.

You knew Peter was waiting for another insult to hit him, but you found yourself unable to speak as your eyes were glued to his, feeling your stomach closing in on itself.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You knew it wasn’t right, and you knew that it was time to stop, especially after everything Peter had done for you. After all the times he saved you.

You cleared your throat and focused on anything but Peter, “That’s enough, Flash.”

Flash’s posture slacked and he furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“That’s enough.”

“But-“

“Eugene.” You cut him off, looking him dead in the eye and delivering a message that meant you were serious. You jutted your head in your direction and walked away, missing the way Flash and Peter stared at your retreating back incredulously.

With Homecoming approaching fast, you agreed to go with Zach, one of Flash’s friends and the boy who wouldn’t stop bugging you about going with him. You knew he just wanted to use you to tell others he ‘scored’ but you couldn’t care less. Truthfully, you were only going to confess to Peter that you knew his secret. Homecoming, you thought, would be a perfect time considering you planned to be each other’s dates to the event when you were younger.

Guess you didn’t know that time not only brings people together, but separates them, too.

You drove yourself to Homecoming and parked your car as close to the school as possible in case things went wrong and you needed the escape. You took a minute to touch up your hair and makeup, which really wasn’t much more than your normal everyday look, and inhaled deeply before getting out and walking into what you were sure was going to be a disaster, purse hanging by your side.

You met up with your group of friends, rolling your eyes as Zach hugged you (too tightly), that were drinking punch in their most stylish dresses and tuxes and dancing to upbeat music. Liz and her team definitely did a good job setting up the decorations and disco ball, successfully transforming the boring gym into a chic dance floor.

Flash had informed you beforehand that he’d be taking ’this chick’ to a lavish restaurant before coming to the dance and asked if you wanted to tag along, but you refused to be a third-wheel, telling him you’ll instead meet him at school instead.

Homecoming meant close to nothing to you if you weren’t with the person you’d been waiting for your whole life, which is why you spent the first fifteen minutes eyeing the crowd for a certain boy. The sooner you told him, the less you’d feel like you were going to throw up the contents of your stomach.

And finally, you saw him entering the building looking pale, like he’d seen a ghost. You worried, your gut telling you something was seriously wrong as you watched him walk to Liz, appearing to be distressed, and perhaps..guilty.

Everything only worsened when Liz’s face dropped and-

He was running. Running away from Liz. Which clearly didn’t make any sense, but goddamnit nothing is making sense these days!

You contemplated going after him, not understanding what the fuck was going on. Why was he running? Does this have something to do with Spider-Man? Should you run after him?

Something was pulling you towards the double doors he sprinted through, like it was calling your name and luring you in. You didn’t know if you should answer its callings or ignore them.

He could be in danger.

But he also could’ve just panicked.

It was obvious Liz was his date, and maybe he ran to the bathroom to freshen up and give himself a pep talk. Usually, you were the one to do that, but you lost your place as his personal hype girl long ago.

But then, why is Liz crying?

No, no, this isn’t something Homecoming related. This is Spider-Man related.

You excused yourself from your group and made it look like you were heading to the bathroom, but once everybody was out of sight, you threw your heels to the side of the hallway and raced around the halls, wondering where he would be.

You were short of breath as you took a minute to stop and place your hands on your knees. You ran through almost every hall you could, and you were running short on routes to take.

While stretching your neck, you saw something on the ground in your peripheral vision. A strewn tie.

You went over and picked it up, confirming that it was indeed the tie Peter was wearing. Up ahead were a whole bunch of stray items of clothing scattered around, and you followed those, picking them up along the way and tossing them in a big pile beside the lockers.

You hoped to God he wasn’t naked like you thought he was.

The clothes stopped when you reached the back of the school, where the buses were usually parked. You quietly opened the door and let your bare feet touch the cold asphalt below them. You heard talking, a man’s voice, and the same purring sound you heard when you found the glowy-machine thing, only louder.

You hastily followed the noises, hiding behind one of the large buses, placing a hand on your mouth to keep your gasp inside at the shock of the scene laid out in front of you. There Peter was, on the ground beside an upside down bus, attempting to escape from the man that was advancing towards him with another strange machine.

“Why did he send you here?” Peter grunted, using his elbows to crawl away. You panicked and looked around for something, anything, you could use to fucking stop the guy from killing Peter. Your eyes lit up when you recognized one of Peter’s web shooters thrown to the side, sauntering over to it and turning it in your hands, trying to get it to work.

“Come on, come on.” You muttered, hitting it multiple times while aiming at the guy to get it to shoot, but you didn’t know how it worked, and nothing that you were doing seemed to be doing anything.

“Guess you’ll never know.” Said the dude, pulling back and getting ready to shoot at Peter.

“No, no, no, come on! Shoot your gross webs!” You desperately mumbled under your breath, hitting it harder and faster. Your palm ended up smacking a button, making a large web come out and cling to the machine. You were frozen in spot as the guy’s eyes met yours, pure anger swirling in them.

“Yes!” Peter said before turning to look at you. His shoulders stiffened, but he shook his head and pulled on the web, taking both the bad guy and the web shooter down with him.

Now that both of the webshooters were in his hold, he used them to web up the villain to the bus.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until a voice came out from behind you, “Holy shit!”

You jumped in surprise, pivoting and raising your fist to punch the stranger behind you. Your jaw fell open the second your hand collided with Ned’s face, guilt rendering you motionless.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, Ned!” You gasped, hesitantly putting a hand on his back, feeling absolutely horrible as he held his eye, moaning in pain, “I’m so sorry! I-I thought you were one of them so I just- are you okay? Holy fuck, I’m so, so sorry!”

“Damn, Y/n.” He weakly laughed, “Who knew you could punch that hard?”

You bit your lip in worry, “I’m so sorry, Ned. I didn’t mean it, I swear.” You said, trying to get a look at how bad it was.

“It’s good, I’m fine. Well, maybe I’m gonna need some ice but I’m cool, it’s all good.” He gave you a thumbs up before hissing and opening his eye.

It looked swollen and was starting to turn into a nasty shade of blue, but he kept reassuring you it was okay, which didn’t make you feel any better.

“I’ll get you ice, I promise.” You said, rubbing his back gently with a pained expression.

The clearing of a throat behind you called to you and Ned’s attention, an awkward silence setting between the three of you until Ned's eyes widened as much as they could.

“Oh! I-it’s Spider-Man!” Ned said, unconvincingly trying to sound surprised, “W-what a coincidence that you’re here, Spidey! I-I’m such a huge fan! And I’m sure Y/n is, too.”

You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a deep breath, “Why do you do this to me?” You mumbled into the sky.

“What are you doing?” You asked Ned.

“What do you mean? It’s Spider-Man. Isn’t it shocking that he’s here?”

You heard a long, disappointed sigh coming from Peter, who stood far away from both you and Ned. Too far, in your opinion.

“Ned, I know who he is.” You admitted, somehow hearing Peter’s breath getting caught in his throat.

“I..I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Dude! I know it’s Peter, cut the bullshit. You’re horrible at lying.” You turned to look at Peter, giving him a sad smile, “And you’re still not good at hiding things from me.”

Peter’s shoulders visibly sagged, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head, something he did when he was uncomfortable. He must’ve seen you dissect his action because he immediately put his arm down.

“Okay,” Ned sighed, “well, what now?”

“Look, I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” You cautiously said, “I’m just..I can help if you want me to. With that.” You pointed towards the webbed dude, offering your services to Peter. You swallowed down the feeling of you doing this to make yourself feel better about the way you treated him. Almost like you were trying to reverse what you’ve done.

Regardless, Peter stared at the villain for a long time, and then abruptly spoke.

“All right, here’s what I want you both to do.” He finally said, hastily moving closer, “The guy with the wings is Liz’s dad-“ Ned gasped, “-I know! I gotta tell Mr. Stark. Ned, I need you to call Happy Hogan, he’s Mr. Stark’s head of security. Y/n, I need you to track my phone for me, okay?”

You nodded, and even though you were confused as shit, you were happy to help in any way possible.

Ned quickly took off, holding his white hat to his head as he ran back into school with an obvious pep in his step. Peter was getting ready to swing away, but you weren’t going to let your chance leave with him. You readied yourself, the speech in your head tumbling around in your mind, ready to exit your mouth.

Ready to get some closure, and to finally be the bigger person.

“Peter?” You said, your voice coming out as a whisper, but the wind seemed to have carried it over to him because he stopped and hesitantly turned around.

You had to remind yourself how to breathe as you looked at him. He was so close, yet so far away, and just like that, your mind went blank, the words erasing themselves and leaving you with a tight throat. You gulped, your legs carrying you over to him before you chickened out even further.

You tentatively wrapped your arms around his rigid body, feeling the tears starting to cascade their way down your cheeks.

What for? You didn’t know, but you just let them fall anyway.

“Thank you.” You wobbly said, slightly afraid that he was going to push you away when he just stood there. It took a moment for him to give in and return the hug, pulling you closer. He nodded into your shoulder, and you knew he understood what you were thanking him for without having to say it.

You both worked like that.

You couldn’t comprehend how much lighter you felt after saying those words, how much had been lifted off your shoulders that you finally, finally did the right thing.

Finally, you did something you wouldn’t ever regret.

You gave him one last squeeze and pushed him back, keeping him at arm's length, fighting the urge of staying in his arms forever, "Be safe.” You sniffed, stepping back to give him space.

“I will.”

And with that, he swung away, leaving a promise behind that he’d be safe, and that he’d make it out okay.

You breathed out and straightened your posture, wiping the tears away with your hand and running into school to pay the nurse’s office a visit.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

Tags: @peachescream06

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

87 notes · View notes

honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

Text

Infrangible

AFGHSAGHJS THIS IS SO LATE IS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE LMAO

In my defense, I stopped being a person long ago and now, in all the ways except physical, I happen to be a potato. BUT ANYWAY :’) This is for the Renegades Ship Week hosted by @greasicookies <3 (Thanks again!), for day 5, which is Maxpie. The prompt is “secrets”! <3

I had a tough time writing this because I’m going through a lot of stuff rn :’) still, I hope you can enjoy it x’ddd.

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @the-wee-woo-rita and afsghagshja @all-weather-is-bad (because this is a very...me fic lol and I think you’re already used to my sad attempt at humor haahahaah i’M SORRY AGSHJAKL) AND @lackadae because agshjs I made a reference to one of your drawings, hon :’) (I promise once again, to catch up with your content once I feel better afsghjak).

And that’s it. I hope you like it <3

When Max turned nine, he reached the conclusion that everybody forgot their early years at some point. Before, Adrian had already explained to him that wasn’t quite true, because he misunderstood Max’s statement and thought he was feeling bad about himself for not being able to recall certain things. He told him that, unlike what he thought –which was false because that’s not what Max meant- people usually couldn’t store those memories from when they were younger than three.

“Some people do.” He said. “But it’s normal if you don’t remember anything from when you were…I don’t know. Two.”

“Do you remember anything from when you were two?” Max asked him.

From the other side of the glass, Adrian scrunched up his nose. And then, obviously, he saw himself in the need to adjust his glasses.

“I’m not quite sure whether I was two or not. But I do know I was younger than five.” He started. “There was a small canal on the way to the apartment. When it rained, it would grow a lot. It didn’t have big torrents or anything, but it did grow a lot. The water usually went higher than my ankles. But the thing was…that every time it grew, it became infested with turtles.”

He paused for a second.

“I really liked turtles.” He continued, shrugging. “My mother used to let me walk down to the water, as long as she was right behind me, obviously; one day, when we were coming back from the city, she stopped to attend a call. I got too impatient and went down alone when she wasn’t looking. The next thing I remember is that, just when I was getting up after catching a turtle, I felt her tugging me by the back of my shirt. The turtle fell on its shell.”

At that point, Max realized he had been staring at how he kept on fidgeting with his pen instead of looking him in the eye, but he continued doing so, because he didn’t like it when Adrian’s voice turned that serious.

“…She had never screamed at me like that.” He said, as if he were talking to himself and then, to erase the tension, he tried to scoff. “I don’t remember what she said, but I remember that she said it so loud I told her she was scaring the turtle. Then I started crying. Like, a lot. I think she was terrified too.”

In the end, everything turned too quiet for his liking, and Max did something his dad had advised him to do for times like these, when he just didn’t know what came next: Improvise.

“I didn’t know you liked turtles.”

“…Well, I did. I really liked turtles when I was younger.”

Max had seen a couple of turtles in his life, but not as many as Adrian had seen, he supposed, because Max had never stepped outside, except when he was a baby.

Which was exactly the point.

He didn’t have memories from when he was a baby, or a toddler. Most of the people who had come to talk to him had said they remembered events that were either too sad (like Adrian) or meaningful in their lives. Max didn’t have anything like that. In fact, his first –very blurry- memory was standing on the edge of the quarantine, with his hands pressed against the crystal, and then licking it.

According to his dads, he was between three and four (“He was three, Simon. What are you talking about?” “He was born in November.” “It wasn’t November yet.” “We had just celebrated his birthday. He was four.” “HE WASN’T FOUR, SIMON! HE WAS THREE! THREE! We were celebrating that his quarantine had just been built!” “IT WAS THE SAME EVENT, HUGH!”) and Aunt Tamaya, plus the both of them, were in the hallway. For some reason, the fact that his eyes were so huge (they were still big. But they were bigger when he was a baby) came off as odd to Tamaya. And the moment they made eye contact, he licked the glass.

Nobody knew why. Not even himself. The adults remembered it better than he did, of course, but none of them had ever been able to guess the reasoning behind it. They often expressed Max had been a very strange baby, mostly because of his lack of social skills. It’s not like he had chosen that, and it’s not like his fathers would’ve allowed it to happen if they had had any other option. But Max wasn’t willing to stand there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, either.

Most of the time, he didn’t.

He barely held any memories of the nurses that had ever been in charge of his care, but, for obvious reasons, he remembered Dad. It was always easier to remember the person who had taken care of you the most, he supposed. And Max knew, among a lot of things, that it wasn’t his other dad’s fault. Though, sometimes, he couldn’t help but blame him.

Again, he didn’t know why, but there were those days, when he needed he the most, where a voice inside of his head told him that, if Simon loved him enough, he would just sacrifice his powers to be with him. His powers weren’t that useful for combat anyway.

“Okay, but that’s kinda mean.” Adrian told him the first time he opened up about it, the night before he attended the Trials to choose the members of his patrolling team. “Pops might not have combat powers, but they’re as important as the rest of the members’. That’s why they work so well as a team, you know? Every power can be extremely helpful during a battle, as long as you know how to use it.”

Max wasn’t doing anything in particular that day. Nothing besides listening to Adrian and sitting on the floor , at least.

“But if every power is useful…” He said, tilting his head to the side. “…Why are you allowed to reject certain aspirants?”

Adrian frowned a little, not in the sense that he looked angry at Max. Rather, he was confused by the question and was trying to word the answer in a way that sounded rational.

“Because…” He gulped and clicked his tongue. “…Like I said…uhm…the Council is an extremely good team. They’ve been doing this for a while. Us, the patrolling leaders are…allowed to reject certain prodigies because we don’t have as much experience as them. And…we might not know how to use somebody’s powers, and that’s very dangerous. We don’t want people dying, do we?”

When he said that, something clicked inside Max’s brain, and he nodded in automatic. Obviously, a few years ago, a non-prodigy teacher had taught him how to read, and the moment Adrian notified him it was his year to be in the Trials, he managed to read the manual and the rules for the event, from a booklet and a pamphlet (respectively) he had asked his dad to bring for him. He didn’t get much new information, different from the one he heard on TV or the one presented in the posters. However, amongst the rules, there was a section that talked about banned powers, which contained only two categories:

-Complete telekinesis.

-Stardust modelling.

“Yeah.” Dad told him. He was bathing him in the quarantine’s bathroom (Of course. Where else?). “Stardust catchers…which….are able to model stardust, are extremely dangerous and there’s not much research about them. Nobody really knows how they work, and it would be pretty difficult for us to… handle a prodigy like that.”

“Like me.”

Dad had always had a pretty specific routine he had to follow when bathing him. If he missed or misplaced a step, he acted like would explode or something. Also, Max didn’t understand why, but ever since he started growing thicker hair, Dad became pretty strict on the fact they should take care of it so it would grow healthy. Hence why they had a full hair routine that they did in the bathtub. That day, the statement caught him so off-guard he grabbed the wrong bottle, and then, when he realized it, he was already pouring the dense liquid (that looked more like a paste to him) on Max’s head. Cursing under his breath, he placed his other hand in the middle so it would fall over his palm, washed Max’s head and started the routine all over again, before changing the subject:

“About complete telekinesis…there’s obviously a lot of research about that power. We know how to manage with that. But telekinetic prodigies are not …very accepted in our society. They’re pointed at…Frowned upon. In the worst of cases, other prodigies hunt them down and then kill them.”

In that moment, Max came to the conclusion that all that changing the subject thing had been in vain.

Because, from his part, the answer was exactly the same:

“Like me.”

And Dad didn’t like that, for he started scratching his scalp harder, accidentally.

“No. It’s nothing like you.” He said. “You’re not like that, Max. Society hates telekinesis because some evil dude decided to use his powers, his telekinesis, for awful reasons and stained prodigy’s names. You’re not like that. You’re not abusive, or selfish or evil. And I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to him ever again. Understood?”

To this day, that was the most aggressive form of validation someone had ever given him, but Max took it anyway, because he trusted Dad, and if he had said something like that, then there had to be a clear reason behind it.

“Understood.” He whispered.

And he tried, he really tried, to believe it. But, like many other things, no matter how hard Max tried, he was still severely confused. Not that he didn’t know about the Age of Anarchy, or the parties involved in the Age of Anarchy.

The quarantine, needless to say, could get pretty boring most of the time. Max had to do a lot of things to kill time, and some of those activities involved reading books that children shouldn’t be reading. He did read some children’s books, but then he would find himself looking through history articles and books, and reading the chapters that interested him the most. For instance, he was confident he knew about the Age of Anarchy, but one thing was knowing about it, and another, different thing, was having an opinion about in regards to it.

Max didn’t know if he had something to say about the topic. If he did, it was a very incomplete idea, and it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to phrase it correctly.

The group of people Max talked the most to were adults, and those adults, especially the ones who had experienced the Age of Anarchy and somehow managed to make it out alive, refused to talk about it. As for the few children he had talked to…

Well, about them…

Long story short, they had lives.

They all had lives outside of a glass, unlike Max. Maybe they weren’t the most interesting of lives, but at least they for sure had to be more interesting than his’. They didn’t have a pre-established schedule, where a designated person would come in to feed him or extract blood samples from his body, to then take them to the laboratory. They didn’t have to hear a total of seven alarms to remind him what he had to do: Wake up and get dressed, have breakfast and brush his teeth, enter the virtual sessions with his teachers, take a shower, have his blood samples taken, start doing his homework –if he had any- and do whatever he wanted once he was finished, have dinner, brush his teeth and go to bed, and then start all over again.

That moment, when he had spare time, would be the same one normal kids used to go out with their friends, like Adrian did. To go to the park and get themselves a scarily huge wound at the center of their knee. To live. To breathe air. To do…literally anything that wasn’t this.

Because Max was different from the many children he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to meet or talk to, because, obviously, they wouldn’t want to spend the whole day hanging out with a person…like him.

The only way Max could see two out of the three people in his family was through a crystal wall. And he couldn’t kiss them, he couldn’t touch them… sometimes he even wondered if he knew how their voices sounded, because, after all, Dad’s voice sounded the tiniest bit different once he crossed that infamous glass door.

He couldn’t walk through the streets of Gatlon, because, for starters, he didn’t know them. And if he dared to go out there, he would get killed on spot for having accidentally neutralized a prodigy who didn’t want to be neutralized.

Other kids had nannies whom they complained about when their parents couldn’t look after them (at least that’s the kind of things he saw on the TV shows he watched) but Max had patrol units that would move from one corner of the room to another, ready to attack anyone who came closer than necessary to him, because the only one who could take care of him in person, was Hugh.

Other kids could go out freely, without being scared of anything at all. They could get hurt while having fun with their friends and family. They could laugh until they cried with them. They could hug them, sleep in the same bed as them. They could walk their pets, go on road trips, go to amusement stores, water parks…

They could experience the current world; watch all the new events that were happening every day, in first hand.

They didn’t have to read about the past, or the people from the past to keep themselves entertained. They didn’t have the need to do that. At all.

They were living the lives Max couldn’t have, because he was too dangerous for that.

And obviously, that’s why he couldn’t just…go around asking other kids about what was their favorite bug, their favorite planet…or their opinions about Ace Anarchy, and if Pops (Simon) saying “Alec, with an A as in Abusive Swine” made them laugh.

Besides, he hadn’t even met that many kids his age. Or kids, for that matter.

He was aware Adrian wasn’t exactly a grown up, but he wasn’t a kid either, so, he usually didn’t make it into that list.

In fact, just like the banned powers in that manual, there were only two kids in Max’s list of acquaintances.

Aunt Tamaya’s first baby was born without powers, when Max was like four years old, and his dads were way too excited about it (Weird thing to brag about out loud, honestly, because all the recruits in the Headquarters were betting ridiculous amounts of money on which powers the Thunderbaby would have –Max could hear them- and one day they just heard The Dread Warden storming into the hallway, euphorically screaming “GUESS WHAT, MY LITTLE CHERUB BABY? YOUR COUSIN IS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING POWERLESS!”), for they thought Max would finally be able to have a friend who was more or less his age. Dad was the one who brought him in, two weeks after he was born. He was still tiny, red and chubby, and wrapped in his three different blankets that way, he looked like a bloated marshmallow.

Aunt Tamaya, her husband, Pops, Adrian, Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Evander were outside (as always) waiting to see what happened…and, it was extremely odd for Max to admit it, but he couldn’t remember much about that moment, even though he was already older than three. There was, however, a video taken by Uncle Evander where, if you narrowed your eyes hard enough, you could see the moment Max burst into tears right after kissing the baby’s cheek.

Neil was his friend.

At least, Max considered him to be his friend. Still, they had an age gap of four whole years, and a part of him was waiting until he was a little older so they could be on the same page. Because sometimes, when Neil couldn’t comprehend something semi-important that Max had just said, things could get pretty awkward, because there were occasions when, if Neil got too frustrated over anything, he would start crying, and his sobs often summoned his mother all the way from across the building. She never particularly tried to put the blame on Max. In fact, she hadn’t even glared at him not once, ever.

But she did choose to take him with her, into her office, or ask Adrian to babysit him while he calmed down. Afterwards, he usually didn’t come back to the quarantine.

“It’s not your fault, Max.” Pops would tell him, always. “It’s just that…Neil...he’s younger than you. There are things that might be…easy to you, but that are super complicated to him. And you might be able to do things that he can’t, and he can’t understand why he can’t, so he gets super confused and angry and that’s why he cries and Tamaya has to come and comfort him.”

“That, and because she’s like a...very freaky bird mom who hears her children cry and comes around with her super sonic enhanced sense of hea—“

“Hugh, don’t be rude.”

Every time they had that discussion in front of him, Max could never understand why Pops said Dad was being rude. He was right, to a certain extent. Aunt Tamaya was just…being a mom.

And that’s what moms did.

At least, that’s what Max had read and seen on TV because families like his’ were…super rare to find in his cartoons or favorite books. In fact, the times when he had seen himself represented in any of the things were so few that, for the longest time, Max had this weird, messed up idea that biological men could give birth. He thought that Adrian, apart from the fact that he was the closest to him, looked more similar to Simon, and that had to mean he had given birth to him, while Hugh had been the one to give birth to Max.

One year, when Max was six, they finished Lady Indomitable’s gigantic golden statue, placed downtown. It was late June, and though the city had previously looked covered in colors, that day it just looked…white and golden. That’s the best way Max could find to put it into words.

According to Max’s weather application, the heat was unbearable that day (good thing he couldn’t feel anything because the temperature in the quarantine was always regulated) yet, according to what he was seeing in one of his screens, a great percentage of the citizens of Gatlon were marching in the streets carrying floating lanterns, headed towards downtown where the event was being held.

The Council was standing in front of the covered statue. All of them except Blacklight, who had stayed to take care of the Headquarters, and Max could see him from where he was. They gave a speech about Lady Indomitable together, and as they started revealing the statue, Tsunami sang a song that was supposed to be one of Lady Indomitable’s favorite ones, and that Max was too young to recognize (he supposed). In his opinion, it was a cute event, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t utterly confused the moment he saw Adrian taking one step ahead to be the first one to let go of his floating lantern, which was different from the other ones, because his’ was bigger, and it had a big “I”. Besides, people waited a couple of seconds until it was stable above their heads to let go of their own floating lanterns.

It still looked cute to him, but now it looked weird as well. So he got up from his chair, and walked towards the edge, pressing his hands against the glass. He hoped that would be enough to magically catch Evander’s attention, who was, at the moment, using his chair as a swing, as he typed a number in his computer, copying it from his calculator and eating from his salad every now and then. Obviously, Max’s telepathic call wasn’t enough, and he had to knock on the glass a couple of times, loudly. Even then, Uncle Evander didn’t look up in his direction.

But he did hear him, because he did respond.

“It’s not gonna work, Maximus. I’m not getting you out.”

As a side note, Max considered telling him his full name was Maximilian and not Maximus, because that was way before he realized it was a nickname. Nevertheless, he just let it pass, for the simple reason he had better things to ask. That’s why he proceeded to knock again, instead of speaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

Evander tried to steady himself in the chair without falling on his back, and once he succeeded, he came closer to the quarantine, with his arms over his hips.

“Why is Adrian doing that?” He asked, just because he wasn’t able to find another way to phrase it, while pointing at the screen behind him; Evander narrowed his eyes following his finger, as if he hadn’t been watching the event himself from a livestream on his phone. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize what he was talking about, and bit his upper lip, before pouting barely a little.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Because that’s his mom. And today’s her birthday.”

And it’s not that Max was insensitive enough not to recognize that it was very sad, but at the same time those single words were enough to make the idea he had of his life fall apart. All the things he thought he had already managed to understand felt fake and incorrect, and it was so fast it almost made him feel dizzy.

“She’s not his mom.” He declared.

Evander opened his eyes very widely and, next thing he knew, was that, for some reason, he looked nervous. Which, to say the least, was very…unlike Evander. He was usually super…confident, and, in Dad’s words: “He walks with his back too straight for a person who says some dumb shit every time he opens his mouth”.

At that moment, his back wasn’t straight at all, and he kept on wiping the sweat off his palms in the suit.

“…I mean…she’s not…alive anymore. But… that doesn’t mean that…”

“Noooo. I didn’t mean that.” Max cut him off. “She’s not her mom, because Adrian already has a mom.”

He stopped suddenly. Max could almost see his brain working at full speed, trying to process the data he had just received. Then, he blinked, arching his eyebrow.

“Who’s…who’s his mom?” He asked, getting closer to the crystal, and crouching down to be at Max’s height (Evander was almost too tall for his own sake). “Do Simon or Hugh…?”

“No. I mean she’s not his mom because Simon’s his mom.” Max stated, confident enough to move a mountain with his raw determination and his bare hands, which, needless to say, did nothing but make Evander even more confused.

Not that Max couldn’t understand why.

He was a brand new, redeemed person now.

But back then he wasn’t.

“…Simon is what, you said?”

“Adrian’s mom.” Max reaffirmed.

Still bewildered, Evander gawked. Perhaps he understood where that confusion was coming from but, at the same time, maybe he was too disturbed to ask for additional information. Max didn’t know which one of the two would make him feel more embarrassed, especially taking into account the next thing Evander said:

“That is the weirdest shit somebody has ever said to me, and I’ve talked to the Puppeteer an unhealthy amount of times.”

He wasn’t the one who explained to him the way his own family worked. On the contrary, he immediately told his dads about it, and next time the both of them came to talk to him, they tried to make him understand the concept of homosexual couples.

And they failed.

Miserably.

And he was using that term, because after that talk, Max went through life for a while saying that his ethnicity was Gay, because both of his dads were gay. Over and over again, they tried to correct him, but nothing seemed to work, and Max kept on spreading the information that he was gay (something he didn’t know yet) until Aunt Kasumi decided to intervene and, for his birthday, she got him a children’s book called All in Rainbow, which, according to the information in the first page, was actually a translation from a Latin American book written by two lesbians (one of them non-binary) and illustrated by the same woman who had made the Anarchists’ and the Renegades’ graphic novels and was also a Latina.

That book was something similar to a gay encyclopedia. It was narrated by this girl named Phoenix, because it followed her throughout her school and her daily life, where she came across different people and families. After every short story, there was an informative section explaining everything in regards to the new person’s identity, including their flag, the meaning of said flag, and the explanation of certain terms. Max really enjoyed it, and, in fact, he ended up going through it more than once. When he tried to persuade Adrian into reading it too, he admitted he already had, when he was younger, and proceeded to make a comment about how pretty the name “Phoenix” was.

It was only then that Max was able to understand how his own family worked, and how freaking inept he had sounded when he decided it was a great idea to use it as an ethnicity.

That book was, in fact, the cue for all the grown ups in his life to start buying books for him, which he was grateful for, except for the one that he, ironically enough, had gotten from Uncle Evander. Sure, he appreciated that he had spent money on that, but Max didn’t appreciate the fact that the plot was about a dog that was sent away to a school for dogs but made everyone believe he was in jail so he could escape. The drawings were cute, but he just couldn’t find the moral of the story and he didn’t like that.

His dads, from their part, got him a book about two frogs that, at least to Max, acted as if they were a couple; Aunt Tamaya was the one of the short books without drawings.

As for Aunt Kasumi…she usually brought a lot of educational books; every time she overheard him expressing something that was making him confused, she brought him a book about it, including that time she heard him asking Ruby Tucker “So, are you always bleeding?” completely out of context.

Max supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that Aunt Kasumi was in charge of Child Services, and she spent a lot of time with children, especially because she liked to volunteer in orphanages, having been in one herself when she was a little girl. She usually moved in prodigy orphanages, for she was one to know the poor conditions they sometimes presented.

And…to say the least, she wasn’t a woman of many words. She was very reserved with everything she did. And, besides, it was none of Max’s business. After all, he was just a kid.

But, in this case, it kind of involved him.

Kind of.

For the simple reason that there were two names in the list of people his age Max had talked to. The first one was Neil (who wasn’t even his age. He was just close to that) and the second one…

The second one involved Aunt Kasumi.

Just like people were able to overhear his conversations through the quarantine, Max was able to overhear the conversations they were having on the outside, especially when he was trying to do it on purpose.

Every time he was too bored, in other words.

Some of the things older people said were confusing, but, over time, Max had learned to store that information, so he could comprehend it better in the future. He didn’t know at what level that was healthy, yet he still did it because, literally, he didn’t have anything better to do.

During extremely busy days, the Council chose to spend the night in the Headquarters, just in case, and while they could sleep in the common room, if Pops was too insistent on wanting to be close to the quarantine, they slept in the hallway.

In Max’s hallway.

Of course, Dad would sleep with him inside the quarantine but, in order to make it feel more like a pajama party, they slept close to the edge of the “room” (if it could be called that way), so close to the Councils’ inflatable beds, they could’ve touched them if there hadn’t been a wall in between.

When they were sleeping in that hallway, there wasn’t a patrol looking over Max, because they were the patrol and, every two hours, they changed turns to stay awake. All of them except Dad, who stayed the entire night with Max. The others often got up and started walking around the quarantine according to their ages. That is, Aunt Tamaya went first, followed by Pops, then Aunt Kasumi, and Uncle Evander at the end. However, since it wasn’t like they were too used to having many hours of sleep, Kasumi and Evander usually got up at the same time and patrolled together.

That night, Max was having trouble sleeping. Dad was hugging him, which made him feel very comfortable, but, at the same time, before he wrapped his arms around him, he had been moving way too much, and that had made Max feel uneasy, because a part of him, though he knew it was highly possible it wasn’t true, was feeding the annoying worm at the back of his brain that told him he was the one making Dad uneasy. That Dad was moving and couldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Pops. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Adrian, even. Anyone but Max.

Which, again, he knew things…weren’t like that. But that little, nameless, uninvited worm was always telling him that, over and over again, determined to repeat those awful words until they made so much noise they made him cry.

And even then, when he was already crying, the worm ate deeper into his brain and told him to stop because, in the end, who was he crying for anyway?

Who was he crying for, if nobody was here to see or hear him?

That night, of course, he didn’t cry, for the simple reason that…well, he did have somebody who would hear him cry, and maybe comfort him like Aunt Tamaya comforted Neil when he was crying…

But he didn’t want Dad to do that.

Not today.

Not because he were mad at him, but because he feared that, if he did, then Dad would be the one who would get mad.

Besides, that night he got extremely busy trying to overhear the conversation between Kasumi and Evander who, the moment they got up, started talking as they walked, first at a volume so low their voices could’ve been considered murmurs, but then, with every second, the issue started escalating.

And it wasn’t that they were arguing, it was that they weren’t exactly happy with each other, nor did they seem to manage to get to a mutual agreement.

Max felt like that time he was watching a movie with his earphones on, and instead of paying attention to the plot, he kept trying to identify which sounds were dominant in his left ear, and which ones were dominant in his right ear, because Uncle Evander and Aunt Kasumi were walking around the quarantine, and the echoes of their voices were floating right behind them, making it almost impossible for Max to decipher their messages word by word.

At least, until they stopped in front of him. That is, very close to the inflatable mattresses, too. And with just one eye open, he was able to tell Aunt Kasumi wasn’t amused, with her arms so tight across her chest that way, and with Uncle Evander standing more straight than necessary (because, yes, Dad was right about that...sometimes... because Max had read somewhere that tall people had to be really careful with their posture to avoid spine deformities or have less complications when they were older) waving his –as Aunt Tamaya would’ve called them- Hot Cheeto fingers right in front of her face, in a way so aggressive she sometimes had to lean backwards not to get one of her eyes poked out.

“…and it won’t look good for the organization. It won’t look good, Kasumi. You know why?”

“Yes, Vandy. I know why. I already knew before, yet you took the time to explain it to me another seven times. I mean, thank you, I guess, but—“

“If I kept on explaining it to you, it’s because I didn’t…and I don’t know what’s not clicking.”

“What do you mean with what’s not clicking?” And she tilted her head to the side. “…Are you still talking to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kasumi. Especially not in front of me, because I know you.”

“Right. But I still don’t get what you’re referring to. What’s not clicking about what, exactly?”

Evander laughed in a way Max would’ve just…understood if she had decided to punch him in the face so he would stop.

“We’re a big organization, Kasumi. People talk.”

“Of course that people talk. I mean, our citizens support our cause and our government system. In fact, statistically, more than half of the population do, but sometimes there are things that… are for their own good but they will refuse to understand and accept them anyway. And that’s normal. We might be the law, but we can’t control how the masses think, you know?”

“For their own good, you say. Beneficial.”

“Exactly.”

“Beneficial for who, if you’d be so kind?” Evander laughed again. “As far as I understand, we’re talking about one single problem, from a single person. It won’t bring anything beneficial, as you call it, for our organization, or for our system…if anything, it will damage it and make us lose credibility.”

“…Why?”

As a response, he started flapping his arms around, as if he were trying to point at something invisible. Or at something that wasn’t really there.

And this time, Aunt Kasumi didn’t try to pretend she was seeing it, and remained silent until Evander realized he would have to make himself understood.

“Because…” He clenched his fists, sighing loudly, almost like he was certain he was right and Aunt Kasumi wasn’t. “Our policy. Remember that? You know, a thing that actually exists and you helped write?”

She didn’t respond.

“Our policy as Renegades, it’s that we shall keep our people safe, and that includes prodigy and non-prodigy citizens. We shall preserve their lives no matter the cost, and create a safe environment where all can coexist and protect each other. That means that no prodigy individual with questionable reasons is to be allowed to cross that gate and disturb the peace or, worse, put somebody’s life at risk.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, you should be, because we wrote it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Evander, please. There’s no need to curse or—“

“…But you know what that means? It means that we can’t just…go against that policy and expect our citizens, our recruits, even, to still take us seriously.”

“Oh, but I’m following that policy because, as you might remember, we also pledged to assist anyone whose life was at risk, and people who, day by day, have to live under very vulnerable circumstances. It is our job to intervene and take them to a safer place, where their quality of life can improve, isn’t it?”

“It is, but that applies for people who aren’t dangerous to society.”

At that point, Max had both his eyes open, and he was seeing the scene more clearly.

In fact, everything was so clear, that he was able to read the confusion in Aunt Kasumi’s expression, even before she said:

“…This is a kid we’re talking about.”

“She is dangerous.”

“She’s not dangerous, Evander. She's a kid. Sure, her behavior has caused her to go bouncing from orphanage to orphanage like a rubber ball but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be helped, that doesn’t mean we should just turn our backs at her, and that doesn’t mean she’s dangerous.”

“You know damn well her behavior’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I am, because that’s the only thing that should concern us at the moment.”

“No, it’s not?”

“It is. Because she’s a kid…and, honestly, Vandy…” Aunt Kasumi sighed. “… I know we were raised thinking life is war, but… the truth is, people are not born evil. Or dangerous, for that matter. Take your time and think about it, and you can talk to me again once you’ve calmed down, because you must be pretty much aware I don't appreciate this tone. Besides, it’s not like this little argument is going to stop me anyway.” She shrugged.

“…after all, I already talked to Hugh.”

“…And what did he say?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that. Ask him.”

Max never knew whether he had taken that suggestion or not but, knowing Evander, he just assumed he hadn’t. And, to be honest, he never asked Dad about it either. He just stood and watched how everything proceeded to go down and chaos unleashed.

Though, he had to admit, unlike what had happened with other “big” events, this one specific chaos was rather discrete. A kind of well-kept secret.

In fact, the only explicit hint that something would happen in the next few days, was the little disturbance caused by Team Frostbite (it was always Team Frostbite. Max had no idea why everyone was so…willing to put up with their…issues so much, and without hesitation) when it was their turn to patrol around the quarantine and Evander came around, holding his notepad, and muttered something to them.

“Whom?!” Genissa Clark, Frostbite, snapped immediately.

Evander frowned and, judging by the way his moustache moved, he also pouted, before turning at Mack Baxter, Aftershock, to start talking to him instead.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s talking about?” He clicked his tongue. “Like…okay, nevermind…”

When Max looked up, he saw the exact moment when Evander realized he was listening to the conversation, so he lowered his tone once again. Yet, Max was still able to see the million ways in which Genissa Clark's face contorted and, in the end, the first second Evander shut his mouth, she declared:

“We’re not available for that. Perhaps that task should be assigned to Team Sketch or Team Peregrine. They’re always lollygagging around, it’s about time they get some real responsibi—“

“That’s a no, then. Alright. Thanks for your cooperation, Team Frostbite. Or, lack of, more likely. Do better next time, okay?”

If Max wanted to be honest with himself, it hadn’t taken him much time to realize he wasn’t fond of any of the members in Team Frostbite. Or Frostbite herself. In fact, he considered her to be almost insufferable, and, again, he couldn’t quite understand why they were allowed to boss everybody around. To a certain extent, they reminded him of the popular kids (who were also bullies) in every movie he had ever watched. They weren’t nice. Not even likeable.

Maybe Max was just very specific on the type of people he liked.

Or maybe he liked everyone and their mom, except Team Frostbite, because he didn’t know any better than that, while at the same time he knew better than liking Team Frostbite.

But he didn’t know better than liking Margaret White, because…well…

She hadn’t done anything particularly awful for him to have an opinion as strong as Uncle Evander’s about her.

She came on a Friday.

Not that she exclusively came to talk to him.

She, in fact, arrived alongside Aunt Kasumi, who was wearing her civilian clothes –High-waisted jeans and a baby blue shirt, damp with sweat because it was hot outside- and kept leaving her car key on every table that came across her, before coming back to it to grab them.

At first, Max wasn’t able to see Margaret very well, mostly because he was distracted with his online classes, and she was taken straight to Dad’s office, along with Adrian’s entire team. And though Max didn’t see much, he was able to catch a glimpse on how Adrian kept on trying to grab her hand, and she insisted on pulling away.

At some point, he had read about that too.

The Renegades accepted recruits from ages 14 and up, talking about patrolling. However, they had a child protection program, where, basically, they assisted orphan prodigy children with behavioral issues or, though only few people liked to admit it, potential to be a part of the organization when they were older. Adrian didn’t like it and, strangely enough, out of everyone, Evander didn’t like it either. Nevertheless, Evander was one to get more aggressive when it came to child recruitment, which, thankfully, wasn’t common at all.

In fact, those cases were so rare, that they referred to them as “exceptions”. After all, children were not allowed into the Trials. As far as Max knew, they weren’t placed in patrol units. On the contrary, they were given small positions in the organization, and their paychecks were directed to their respective savings account, something that Pops was in charge of. However, they could use that money for their personal needs or something they wanted to buy, as the few children recruits resided in orphanages around Gatlon and went back there after their shift was over. Max supposed that sometimes their caretakers refused to buy them something because it wasn’t good for their health and it must be very satisfying to tell them it was their money (That’s what Adrian always did when Dad refused to buy something for him).

(That, or he went and asked Pops for that same thing).

Usually, they could have cash withdrawals just by presenting their Renegade Recruit ID because, obviously, they didn’t have an official ID yet.

And not only that. The children recruits were assigned a patrol unit with older members to look after them, or help them with anything they needed. Taking into account the conversation he had overheard, he supposed that duty had fallen on Adrian’s team (A theory that was later confirmed to be true by Adrian himself).

They were never left unsupervised, just like Max.

The day Margaret arrived, for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, Max was submerged in his own little world, and in the assignment his last teacher had told him to do. It was just him, his colored pencils, his paper sheets, his notes, his head, his hands, and the miniature planet Earth that his quarantine supposed, against the real world that he had never stepped on.

But every now and then, a little piece of the unknown, mysterious real world came running to his encounter and talked to him, sometimes in the most sudden, unsolicited way.

Sometimes it was Dad opening the door without calling. Sometimes it was Adrian pressing a new drawing against the crystal. Sometimes it was Pops, making a little “Psst” sound to get his attention.

Sometimes it was three little knocks, and the girl that was producing them with her knuckles.

Back then, Margaret’s hair was longer, to the point where she could tie it in a high ponytail, decorated with a blue bow, which combined with his orphanage uniform: A white polo, with the institution’s symbol by the right side of her chest, beneath a cobalt blue skirt with suspenders, long white socks and black scholar shoes.

He saw her and recognized she was real the first time, but Max still gave himself a couple of seconds to grasp the fact that she was really there.

Well, not there-there.

That she was there, as in, through the glass.

And she was calling him, even if she wasn’t saying anything. In fact, she was just there, eating from a chocolate bar with puffed rice. Her free hand was still over the glass.

And she was waiting.

So, he figured he didn’t want to keep her waiting anymore, and leaving his task and his tools behind, Max walked in her direction. And like it always happened, he stopped right before bumping his forehead against the hard, translucent surface.

Margaret took another bite from her chocolate, with an arched eyebrow, but she said nothing. From afar, Max hadn’t been able to really appreciate her features, but now that he was closer, he realized she was taller than him; her small, brown eyes were making her lashes look bigger; her black hair looked thicker and he was able to conclude that her skin tone was more or less like Pops’, maybe a little darker. She had a mark over her cheek, and at first Max thought it was a mole or a birthmark…until, of course, he realized that moles weren’t (or, at least, shouldn’t be) purple, and realized it was a bruise.

He didn’t ask her about it. Adrian had once told him that there were people who might not want to talk about their bruises or open wounds, not because the stories behind them were painful to tell, but because they were too embarrassing and telling embarrassing stories was an inconvenience.

“…well… now that I think about it…” He said right after. “…That’s not it. No. Not really. Sometimes your wounds’ backstories are painful. Or sometimes…you just want to keep them a secret, you know? And secrets are…sort of important.”

He believed every word.

Hence why, instead of saying something too nosy about that bruise, a little slowly at first, Max started lifting his hand up, until he reached the spot where Margaret’s was, and pressed his palm there. When she stared at his palm in confusion, Max clarified:

“Hugh five. You know?" Max giggled a little." As in… the Captain? Hugh? ...No?"

She didn’t laugh. And that was odd because Adrian would’ve.

Margaret wasn’t Adrian, sadly. And, it seemed to be, she hadn’t had an older sibling to tell her that some things just…weren’t adequate as icebreakers to start a conversation. Because, like Adrian had said, there were certain things other people might not want to talk about.

“Are you sick?” She directly asked.

Max was still “pressing” his hand against hers.

Gulping hard, he felt his throat boiling hot, almost as if it were growing blisters.

“No.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Why?”

Not pulling away either, Margaret said:

“The other day, Sister Malinda brought a very tiny baby into the orphanage. They were so small they had to take them to the medical wing.” She took another bite from her chocolate, and kept on speaking with her mouth full. “I sneaked out of my room to see them, and they were inside this little glass box that helped keeping them alive. Sister Tam told me so.”

Max kept quiet for a while. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have a little curiosity about the name, but Margaret solved everything that had to be solved even if he didn’t ask her to.

“Sister Tam was named after Thunderbird. She’s younger than the other nuns.”

He guessed so.

Aunt Tamaya’s real name had been revealed to the general public on the 13th year into the Age of Anarchy, when she reappeared after being away for months thanks to an accident that involved Queen Bee and a cliff or something like that (Max couldn’t quite understand it, and Aunt Tamaya couldn’t remember much about it either. If she did, then she just didn’t desire to talk about it). It wasn’t a fun anecdote or anything like that but, according to his dads, the name Tamaya topped the lists for the most female-assigned names for at least a year, and the same thing happened in the 20th year into the Age of Anarchy...however, by the time she was buried, the world didn’t know Lady Indomitable’s real name, and for an entire month, people used Regina instead of Georgia. When Max asked why, Dad answered that, when attending public events, Lady Indomitable used to wear a pair of shiny golden R-shaped earrings that caused everybody in Gatlon to develop mass hysteria and made themselves believe that those Rs meant Regina, when in reality, according to Lady Indomitable herself, one of them meant “Rawles”, and the other “Renegade”. In fact, Oscar Silva (Smokescreen, one of the members of Adrian’s team) had once said that one of his cousins, who lived in Mexico, had been named Renata Regina (Though nobody knew what the heck that first name was, and Oscar had a really peculiar way to pronounce Regina) because she was born a few days after Lady Indomitable’s decease.

“I knew that.” Max lied.

“Sure, buddy. I bet you did.” Margaret chuckled. And there, Max realized she thought she was too clever.

Which, he didn’t doubt she was. He wasn’t in the position to state that. At least, not yet.

But what he was in the position to state, was that, if she thought herself to be clever, then it was his opportunity to think of himself as clever too. After all, he had been reading his whole life because he didn’t have anything else to do.

If Margaret was clever, then so was he.

“You’re talking about an incubator.” He said.

Margaret looked up out of a sudden (Max hoped she hadn’t gotten dizzy). He could still see the chocolate, that at this point should’ve been mush, stored in the inside of her right cheek.

“Uh?” She asked, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

Max gulped, and tapped the surface with his fingers.

“The thing where they put the little baby. It’s called an incubator. That’s where they put pre-term babies, because they’re not ready to survive outside of their mother’s womb. Sometimes their lungs don’t work on their own, sometimes their hearts are too fast or too slow…”

“You look too old to be a baby.” She observed. “Are your powers something related to that? Like, are you a baby who doesn’t look like a baby?”

For a second, Max thought about quoting Evander that time he had boldly stated that Simon was Adrian’s mom, but he didn’t because he wasn’t in the mood to curse.

“…No. First, this is not an incubator. And second, I’m a kid.” He answered. “I’m not a baby.”

“Then why are you here?”

The short answer was that, honestly, that was none of her business. And the even shorter answer, was:

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And secrets are sort of important.”

“A secret.” She repeated, as if tasting the word. “…You don’t look like you want to be here. Are you allowed to come out?”

The short answer was still that it was none of her business. But, if he wanted to be honest, for some reason, he didn’t want to give that answer. Because, to be fair, she would find out on her own sooner or later. Because, yes, people talked, and while his dads were kind of secretive about him, everyone in the headquarters knew him. Her being clueless was just a temporary event that would vanish into thin air in a blink.

And, for some reason, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Maybe tell her something that wasn’t real. Maybe… tell her something that wasn’t necessarily true but that he wanted it to be. Maybe something that was more interesting than what he was, in reality; maybe something that would make the worm in his brain go away for two weeks.

"I can't get out." He finally decided. "Because this glass is infrangible."

Then, he knocked on it three times.

"See?"

Margaret tilted her hair to the side, looking like a cat.

"What does that word mean?"

And dumb as it sounded, Max felt a twinge in his stomach along with a violent wave of pride. Because, even if it was hard for him to admit it, he was hoping she would ask that.

He wanted her to ask that.

"It means you can't break it."

Margaret's eyes seemed bigger. But just as she was separating her lips to speak, somebody behind her cleared their throat.

That's when Max spotted Aunt Kasumi leaned against a wall with her arms crossed. When Margaret looked over her shoulder, she found her there too. But while Max waved at her, Margaret remained inexpressive.

"You're very far from the restroom, Maggie." Kasumi said, in a serious tone. Afterwards, she massaged her temples.

"Please, darling. Just… help me here, okay? We have to go back to the office."

And she didn't seem mad, but rather disappointed.

When it came to Aunt Kasumi, that was enough. Max knew that, and Margaret knew that too. That's why they both removed their hands from the glass, and Margaret started going away.

However, before she was too far, Max asked:

"Why are you here?"

And Margaret turned around, smiling.

"If you're not telling me, I'm not telling you." She sentenced. Then, she proceeded to imitate his voice as she said:

"It's a secret."

And for a while, obviously, it remained that way. A secret. But it wasn't long before they both knew everything they needed to know.

Margaret was integrated into the janitorial team, but, for a while, people talked about her and her powers, and Max couldn’t help but remember what Dad had told him in the bathtub, and the conversation between Evander and Kasumi.

Yet, more than scared, Max felt… something he didn't know what it was. In fact, he wasn't scared of her. More likely, a part of him felt that he knew what it was like to be her, because maybe they weren't that different after all.

People were scared of them both.

But he wasn't scared of her. No, not really.

He hoped she wasn’t scared of him either.

Maybe they could've been very good friends, even through the infrangible glass that kept him from getting pointed at, frowned upon or killed.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #Dawnie writes #renegades ship week #margaret white #magpie #max everthart-westwood #the bandit

21 notes · View notes

squishycheekanon · 3 years

Text

It’s Just Business - Two

Werewolf Steve Rodgers x reader

Warnings for the series: fluffness, Bucky and Sam bickering like five year olds, smutty smut, bad language.

“Alex!” Lara engulfed me in a hug, smiling brightly as she did.

“Lara. How are you?” I asked, my eyes flickering down to her round belly for a few moments. Seven months pregnant and she looked amazing. Her black hair up in a high ponytail. A fluffy dressing gown tied around her. Her light blue eyes sparkling.

“So happy now that you’re here. Thank goodness for your brother getting you out of there and away from your parents.” She grimaced at the thought of them, pulling me inside the house. Lara had been there for me as a big sister and I couldn’t ever repay her for it. Two older brothers is what I got, Sebastian the eldest at twenty-six and Jonathon twenty-four.

Bash is known as the golden boy, the distinguished politician. Played the part well, but if you knew him like I did, he was a crafty little shit that could do anything. Owns night clubs under a fake name. Some people joke and say he’s the head of a mob or something. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he admitted he was. Putting all that aside, he’s the most caring person you’ll ever meet.

JJ on the other hand, although caring, he cares in a different way. The magazines refer to him as ‘the ultimate party boy’ and god does he live up to the name. Too much freedom. Partying in every country he could, drinking rich people dry. Our parents never seemed to mind. Bash painted a pretty picture to the world that made them proud. Maybe I was wrong, but I always felt that because JJ wasn’t making his family proud, I was having to do it instead.

Not that I wasn’t bitter or anything...

“You’re tellin me.” I shook my head thinking of the recent news received from my father.

“What happened?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she closed the front door and ushered me up the big staircase towards one of their many guest rooms. Their house was more like a manor, the outside rustic and traditional, just like the main section of the house where the stairs sat so hugely. But the inside was more modern, I could never decide which one I preferred more. Placing my bag down on the big bed I began to explain everything to her.

“Now way! He can’t do that!” She began to rage. Flinging her arms about while I looked around the room. The headboard sat nicely up against the back wall, same wall the entrance door was on, to the left of the bed. The east wall had a closet built into it. The west was plain except for a painting of flowers in a vase sat dead centre of said wall. To the right of it, a door to the bathroom. And finally the south, a wall of windows with a sliding door in the middle.

“Actually he can.” I huffed.

“No.” Her statement was blunt. She marched out of the room and across the hall. “Sebastian!” Her voice echoed through the house and it brought a smile to my face. She always cared so much, even if I knew she couldn’t change anything, it was nice.

“What is it my dear wife?” Bash was dragged into the room by his spouse who repeated everything I said with anger.

“That sounds like dear old Dad.” Bash rolled his eyes patting my shoulder apologetically. His suit jacket was no where to be seen, shirt sleeves rolled up and his hair messy. Clear signs of a long day and a tired man.

“There has to be something we can do!” Lara wouldn’t let this go.

“There isn’t. Once father makes up his mind, there isn’t anything we can do to change it.” I nodded at my brothers truest words.

“Let’s not talk about it. I still have a few days of freedom left.” I let myself fall back onto the comfortable bed. The couple soon filed out of the bedroom leaving me to rest. As if I could. My mind was wide awake, I at least tried to sleep. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling. But the machine wouldn’t turn off, the cogs wouldn’t stop moving.

“This is ridiculous.” I rubbed my hands over my face.

Slipping out of the bed, my black night dress flowing while I walked closer to the big window wall. Pushing the sliding door open and stepping out onto the balcony to stare at the view. It was beautiful. Reminded of something out of a movie.

A giant lake with big pine trees and huge fir trees outlined the water. All of them merging together, I couldn’t tell where the forest line stop or started. A foggy smoke came from me with my deep breath. It was so cold, I barely felt it but I wrapped my arms around myself anyway as if by instinct. A loud howl sounded from somewhere in the middle of the forest. A creature, a fox? A wolf maybe? Whatever it was, it sounded lonely. The cry in the dark had me feeling sad for the poor thing.

“I get it. Being alone sucks.” I spoke into the darkness of the night. Feeling the breeze pull a shiver from my body, I made my way back inside the comfort of the room. I didn’t even think about it before leaving the door open and getting into bed. Somehow I was more relaxed with it open, I felt closer to something. Easily drifting off to sleep, the sound of the animal howling blurred into my dream land.

“Up you get lazy bones! Come on time to start your day.” Lara burst through the door yelling, before gasping in shock. “Did you leave the door open all night? It’s freezing in here.” She trudged towards the glass and slid it closed. I sat up and watched her do it.

“Yeah I guess I did.” I frowned slightly, it wasn’t exactly like me to feel at ease with a door wide open.

“Well wash up and come down for breakfast.” She placed a kiss on the top of my head and left leaving me wondering if this is what mothers were suppose to be like. Were they suppose to wake you up early so you made the most of your day? Were they suppose to make you breakfast? Or show you affection? It’s not exactly what I was used to. Nevertheless I got up, got dressed and had breakfast.

“So little sister, what are your plans for today?” Bash asked shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, identical to how he did when we were kids. A small smile pricked at my lips at the sight.

“I was gonna go for a walk, clear my head.” The married couple seemed to think it was a great idea, practically shoving me out the door.

There was fog all across the river this morning, although it wasn’t particularly cold out. The trees reminded me of when Bash, JJ and I used climb the big oak tree in the backyard and the boys got told off for encouraging me to be unlady like. The thought made me giggle, I was never lady like no matter how hard my mother tried to make me that way. I guess I just hated to be told what to do in any circumstance.

My knee high boots crushed leaves underneath them while I walked, I loved the sound. The crunch of nature. This walk had soothed me and I wasn’t even that far from the house yet. Everything here was so serene, so full of life. I wished I could stay here and forget everything. Just let everything go, all my resentment towards my parents, all the pressure of this stupid task.

He cleared his throat before I noticed him, stopping in my tracks to see the rugged blonde man from yesterday.

“S-Steve.” Why the hell was he here? How did he know I was?

“Alexandra.” My name rolled off his tongue bewitchingly. He looked so different than before, no smart shirt. Just a plain dark blue t-shirt seems he liked that colour. No dress pants this time, merely a pair of jeans.

“Are you stalking me or something? Did my father put you up to this?” I grumbled, slipping my hands into my leather jacket pockets. My stance was always kinda wide, feet at the same distance as shoulders, back straight, head up just as mother said. I don’t remember the last time I slouched. He seemed to give me a once over, stopping on my hips? “Uh eyes up here buddy.” His blue orbs shot up in surprise, his left eyebrow raised.

“There’s been a change of plans. You’re coming straight to me once you’re done here.” Rude much.

“Why isn’t my father telling me this himself?” I eyed his feet as he took a step forward, taking one back of my own.

“He’s busy. Asked me to deliver the message. A woman, Martha, she’s already packed your things and sent them over. Your room is being readied as we speak.” His muscles seemed to tense as he spoke. He held himself confidently yet the way his hands were stuffed in his jean pockets gave him this goofy undertone.

“I still have a few days here.” I tried to keep my voice as stable as I could. I really didn’t want to leave, but Steve seemed like the type to tattle to my Father. I had to go to this unknown place, alone and so fast too.

“I know.” He sighed before speaking again. “I don’t want your stay with me to be uncomfortable for you. I’ll try everything in my power to make you at ease.” He puffed out his chest almost showing off his strength.

“I doubt that.” I let my lip curl slightly. I didn’t give him time to respond, turning on my heel and walking back. A once peaceful morning was now a tense and unwanted one.

#alpha steve rogers #steve rodgers x y/n #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #Steve Rodgers #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel #werewolf x human #bucky barnes #sam wilson #werewolf #alpha #beta #wolf pack #Spotify

52 notes · View notes

tuiccim · 4 years

Text

Terrigenisis (Part 1)

Pairing: Avengers X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 3870

Summary: Your life is torn apart after undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to civilian life. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild your life.

—————————————

“Charlie, the car’s packed. Are you ready?” You called. Your first vacation in two years ahead. A rock climbing trip to Arizona.

“Almost. Come here.” Charlie called from the apartment kitchen.

“What’s up?” You smile as you walk into the kitchen and see Charlie holding out a small medicine cup. “What am I taking today?” You smile at your husband who is currently on a vitamin kick.

“Magnesium, fish oil, vitamin d, and a multi.” He smiles as he picks up his own cup and clinks it together with yours.

You both take the vitamins and then you lean in for a quick kiss. “Okay, good lookin’, vacation time.”

You turn to head for the door but Charlie’s voice brings you back around, “What’s happening?” he says in a panicked voice, “(Y/N)!” You turn to see his body being covered by rocks.

“Charlie!” You reach out for him.

“Don’t touch me!” He yells, but then you feel something strange yourself. Looking down you see the rocks beginning to cover you, too.

“Charlie!” You yell again.

“I love you!” He says just before the rocks cover him completely.

“I love you!” You cry and then are overtaken.

Fourteen months later.

“So, you’re just gonna spring me on them?” You look at Nicky Fury as he drives to the Avenger’s compound.

“Not like we had a lot of time. Coulson's team had to move. This will be the safest place for you and you can be trained as an Avenger here.” Fury states.

You roll your eyes. Not like you hadn’t been training for the last six months with Coulson’s team, but apparently you can’t even tell anyone about them. Now, you’re supposed to join this team and everything will be all better. You put your earbuds in.

You’re brought into the conference room and face the Avengers team. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes.

“Avengers, meet your newest trainee.” Fury states.

You keep your gaze down not wanting to see the anger on everyone’s faces.

“What is this, Fury?” Captain Rogers is the first to speak.

“Look, we need a place for her to train and become mission ready. Right now, here is the safest place for that. I’ll let you get acquainted.” With that, Fury leaves.

You stare after him as he leaves you to the team’s mercy. You turn to look at Captain Rogers, apprehension clear on your face. He seems to take some pity on you.

“You’re an agent?” He asks.

“Fury didn’t give you my file?” You ask quietly.

“What he just said is what he gave me on you.” Captain says, not unkindly.

“Great.” Your quiet, sarcastic reply.

“Why don’t you sit down and we can figure this all out?” Captain Rogers motions to the chair at the head of the table. You felt like you were sitting in front of a jury.

You looked around the table slowly at each solemn face. Miss Maximoff offers you a small smile and it bolsters a bit of courage in you.

“Okay. What’s your deal, then?” Mr. Stark questions.

“I guess it’d just be best to lay it all out for you from the beginning, huh?” You look to Captain Rogers.

“That would make things easier.” Agent Romanoff says.

You look at her and nod. “Fourteen months ago, I underwent terrigenesis.”

“Where did you get a terrigen crystal?” Dr. Banner asks.

“My husband, Charlie, handed me our morning vitamins. One was a new fish oil we were trying.” You say.

“Oh my god. You were one of the accidentally exposed?” Miss Maximoff says sadly.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Your husband?” She asks.

“He was not an Inhuman.” You look away for a minute to compose yourself. The loss of Charlie was still painful. You swallow and continue, “I, however, am. I emerged from the chrysalis with the ability to understand any vocal communication.”

“You mean verbal communication?” Dr. Banner says.

“No, I mean vocal. A dog barks and I know what it’s communicating, not exact words but the meaning. Eventually after hearing any human language for a time I can speak it also. I was fluent in English and Spanish before, but since I’ve become fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese, and I have working knowledge of a few others. I’m basically a universal translator.”

Agent Romanoff speaks then in Russian “You can understand anything said to you even if you don’t know the language?”

“That’s correct. I actually don’t know any Russian. If you could speak it to me when we talk I’ll pick it up eventually. If any of you know other languages, it would be helpful for me to learn to speak them.”

“I would be happy to help you with Sokovian.” Miss Maximoff says in her language.

“Thank you. I’m grateful for whatever I can learn.” You smile at her.

“And that’s it? You can’t go back to your life because you can understand what everyone says?” Mr. Stark snarks.

“No. With being Inhuman comes additional strength and stamina, my gifts also include increased hearing and I can, um, warg for lack of a better term.” You give a half shrug.

“Warg? Like embody animals?” Agent Barton says.

“Yes. I can see, hear, feel through them. I have a Red-tailed Hawk who I’ve built a relationship with. I use her often to train.”

“Where is she?” Agent Barton asks.

You warg into her for a moment turning your eyes yellow as the hawks. “She’s in a dogwood tree on the north side of the compound.”

“Did you just…?” Agent Barton raises his eyebrows.

“Yes.” Turning back to Mr. Stark you say, “To answer your questions, Mr. Stark, the combination of my Inhuman abilities with the fact that I am a black belt in Krav Maga and Karate, an expert level climber, and a computer programmer put me in the threat category.”

“Programmer?” Mr. Stark smirks, “You mean hacker?”

“No. I mean programmer. I was not a part of anything clandestine… Until SHIELD.” you roll your eyes and a few of the team chuckled. “I could already kill someone with my bare hands, add in extra strength.” You shrug again. “Anyway, I’ve spent the last six months training with another Inhuman to hone my skills. They needed the full team to be field ready and Fury decided to move me here.”

“What are you lacking for field readiness?” Captain Rogers asks.

“Firearms training mostly.” You reply. “I have control of my abilities. My hand to hand is more than sufficient.”

“Do you have any experience with firearms?” Sergeant Barnes asks.

“Kinda why I got a black belt in Krav Maga and Karate was hoping to never need one. And if I do, I’ll take one.”

“Family?” Captain Rogers asks.

You shake your head, “My mom died when I was three. My dad raised me. He was a Coast Guard pilot. Died five years ago in a helicopter crash.”

“I’m sorry.” He says sincerely.

“Thanks. Any other questions? Anybody?” You look around the table.

“I think you’ve given us enough for now. Do you have bags or boxes we can help you move into a room?” Captain Rogers asks.

“Just those two. I’ve got them.” You pick up the large duffle and backpack.

“Why don’t you take an hour to settle in and then we’ll meet to start training.”

You nod, a little surprised he wants to start training so soon.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Miss Maximoff says. “Where’s she going?” she asks the Captain.

You see a cloud come over Captain Roger’s face for a moment before he says, “There’s a free room on my end.”

You realize he was trying to figure out where to put you and decided to keep the newbie nearby. You didn’t mind.

“Thank you.” You say to Captain Rogers and you nod to the rest of the team before you follow Miss Maximoff. “Thank you for showing me to the room, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda giggles, “You can call me Wanda.”

“Thanks. Please call me (Y/N). And I thought you were gonna speak Sokovian to me?” You give her a small smile as you walk to the elevator.

“Oh, of course.” She says in Sokovian while hitting the elevator button.

“I wonder how good her hearing is.” You hear the whisper in the conference room.

“Good enough I can hear you from out here, Agent Barton.” You call back and grin at Wanda.

“Thanks!” He calls back.

“Not so loud! Geez” You and Wanda giggle together as you get on the elevator.

“What did he say? I couldn’t hear anything from where we were.” Wanda asks.

“Oh, he just wondered how good my hearing is.”

“Is it really sensitive?”

“Yeah. I have to sleep with earplugs and I wear headphones a lot to block some of it out. It’s taken a while to get used to it. At first, it was super overwhelming.”

“I understand. It was very brave the way you told everyone what happened to you.”

“Seemed fair. I got the chance to read all of your files, so I know about everyone else.”

“Here we are. Do you want help unpacking? I can stick around for a little bit.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to do that. I’ll see you at training?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. If you need anything ask FRIDAY she can direct you where you need to go and answer your questions.” Wanda waves as she leaves you alone in the room.

The room is nicer than what you expected. A queen bed, desk, bookshelves, tv, walk in closet, and your own bathroom. You would definitely need to go to a store soon to pick up a few things. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a problem with Captain Rogers. You empty your duffle bag, put your clothes away, and place your toiletries in the bathroom. You unwrap the two framed pictures and place them on your desk. One is you and Charlie smiling in a waterfall grotto after a long hike. The other is your wedding day, you in a short lace dress, him in a white button down and khaki pants, with the sun setting behind you on the beach just after you said your vows. You gently touch the photo, “Love you, Charlie.” you whisper.

You decide to change and head to wherever training would be. You stop at the panel by your door, "Uh, FRI...FRIDAY?"

"How may I be of assistance, Ms. (L/N)?"

"Where would I go to meet the others for training?"

"The training room is located on the first floor." She says as she flashes a map up.

"Thank you." You feel kind of sheepish talking to the AI.

Once in the training room you look around at the well equipped room. Every type of weights, machines, a boxing ring, mats, weapon lockers, and even a rock climbing wall you saw with excitement. Looking up at the ceiling you see it's criss crossed with beams and you get a wicked idea. You grab a climbing rope hanging down at one end of the room and shimmy up it quickly. You're able to swing yourself to the beam fairly easily from there and then walk the beams towards the entrance to the room. You take a seat with your back to a joist and stretch your legs out in front of you. It's not long before Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes come in together.

"Wonder if she’s as skilled as it sounds.” Sergeant Barnes says.

“Black belts in karate and krav maga? I’m sure she has some skills but getting her to Avenger status may be a challenge.” Captain Rogers says.

“Guess the question is, is she up for it?” Sergeant Barnes scoffs.

“I certainly plan to try, Sergeant.” You say from your perch.

“What the hell?” Sergeant Barnes looks up at you and you give a little wave.

“What are you doing up there, (Y/N)?” Captain Rogers says.

“Waiting.” You say simply.

“You felt the need to do that twenty feet in the air?” Captain Rogers scoffs.

You shrug, “Felt like climbing.” Getting up, you walk along the beams.

“Can you come down, please?” Sergeant Barnes says.

“Sure.” You walk back towards the climbing rope, once close enough you jump to it, and slide down.

Sergeant Barnes is right next to you when you turn around, “What would have happened if you’d fallen?”

“It’d hurt,” you say and look up to the beams, “A lot.”

“Might want to reconsider using the beams as a waiting room.” He snarks.

“Nah, I like being up high. I’m pretty sure-footed.” You look back to his face and he is scowling down at you. “What?”

“Nothing.” He says, “I’ll take that to mean you're warmed up. Let’s do some sparring and see how you do.”

“Okay.”

You follow him to the mat. Captain Rogers is standing to the side watching. You take stance and Sergeant Barnes begins. You can tell he is holding back and you go harder at him. After sparring with Melinda May for months you weren’t about to let him patronize you. You were holding your own and noticed the rest of the team filtering in and watching. He grabbed your arm and you used the leverage to jump up, throw your legs around his neck, and throw him to the ground. He rolled to his feet immediately and came right back at you. After a few more minutes, Captain Rogers called out, “Alright. Let’s switch it up.” You stopped but kept your eyes on Sergeant Barnes until he retreated.

“Not bad.” Sergeant Barnes says to Captain.

“Natasha.” Captain Rogers looks at her and she nods.

“Agent Romanoff.” You incline your head to her as she approaches.

“Natasha’s fine.” She smiles.

“(Y/N). Thanks.” You smile back and Natasha throws the first punch. You manage to hold your own for a while but in the end Natasha managed to pin you to the mat.

“Well done.” Natasha says.

“Not well enough.” You say with a mirthless chuckle.

“Who or what is next, Captain?” You say looking at the super soldier.

He looks over to Sergeant Barnes, “Bucky, can you take her to the range and gauge her abilities there?”

“Sure.” He eyes you and then makes a motion for you to follow.

As you walk out of the training room and turn down a hallway towards the range, you say to him, “I don’t have a lot of experience with guns, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Okay. I don’t have a lot of experience with guns, Bucky. I’ve shot a few times, but the last year has really been about my abilities and honing hand to hand.”

“Well, we’ll see what we have to work with and go from there.” Bucky says as he holds the door to the range open for you. You slip in past him and watch as he goes to the locker and pulls out a Glock, a clip, and a box of ammo. He then sets it all down in front of you with protective gear and stands back with arms crossed.

You reign in a smirk at his demeanor. He really is testing you. You pick up the clip, add the ammo, load and cock the gun. Clicking the safety into place, you put the protective gear on, pick the gun back up, and move to aim at the target. You take the safety off, aim, and fire. When you’ve emptied the clip, you set the gun down and turn to Bucky while removing the headphones. “It’s still loud even through these things.”

Bucky actually chuckles and hits the button to bring the target up for inspection. “You at least know how to load and shoot, but your aim needs work.”

While you had hit the target with each bullet, the rounds were dispersed throughout the torso. Yeah, your aim was lacking.

"Yup. Want me to go again?"

"No, just trying to get an idea." He gives you a tight smile that you return.

When you return to the training room, Captain Rogers takes you through a workout and then brings you a bottle of water. "Good work today."

"Thanks, Captain. I know it was awkward having me sprung on you."

"You can call me Steve. We all go by first names around here." He says.

"My, uh, my dad always required I called people by their title until invited otherwise. Old habits." You shrug.

"Yeah, I get it. Go get some rest and I'll show you around later."

"That would be great. Thanks."

An hour later you had showered and changed. You went to the common room to see if Captain Rogers, erm, Steve was around for the tour he had offered. Sam Wilson looked up from the couch.

“Hey, newbie.” He smiles.

“Hello.”

”I’m Sam. So, you have a hawk friend? What’s its name?”

“Doesn’t really have an English translation. It’s kind of a mix between a squawk and screech so I just call her Redtail.” You say.

“I’m trying to figure out if you're kidding.” Sam eyes you.

“The first part, yeah. But I really do call her Redtail.” You smirk.

“So, you can… what did you call it?”

“Warg. Warging.” You say.

“You can warg into her anytime you want?”

“Generally. I try to be respectful of her. She’s not a pet. She’s a companion that has chosen to befriend me and allow me to use her. Would you like to meet her later?”

“Yeah. That would be cool.” Sam smiles.

“(Y/N).” Steve strides into the room.

“Captain. Sorry. Steve.” You give him a small smile.

“Ready to take a tour?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you. Would you care to join us, Sam?”

“I’m good, but don’t forget about introducing me to Redtail.” Sam says from his spot on the couch.

“You got it.” You say as you go to follow Steve.

“Redtail?” Steve asks.

“The hawk I mentioned.” You say.

Steve shows you around the compound, explains FRIDAY’s functions, and talks a little bit about the team. He’s very kind through the whole process but you can tell he has some concerns about you becoming part of the team.

“Steve, can I ask you something?” You finally work up the courage to say.

“Yeah.” He turns to look at you.

“How does everyone feel about me being dropped on you? There’s bound to be some resentment.”

“I wouldn’t say resentment. Everyone’s just a bit guarded when it comes to new people. You must have done something right for Fury to put you here, though. Most of them know that.”

“Any helpful hints?”

“They’re all good people. Just give them time. They’ll warm up. And, seriously, don’t ever steal Natasha’s cookies.” He says.

You laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Would you like to meet Redtail?”

“That’d be great.”

“FRIDAY, will you let Sam know to meet us at the North entrance?”

“Getting used to FRIDAY already, huh?” Steve smiles.

“I can see how useful she is.”

A few minutes later Sam appears with Bucky following behind.

“Hey Buck.” Steve greets, “Wanted to meet Redtail, too?”

“Uh, yeah, if that’s okay, (Y/N)?” Bucky asks.

“Sure.” You give a small smile and head outside. “Gimme about 15 feet of space, guys. Don’t want to scare her.”

The guys move back as asked and you put your hands around your mouth and let out a loud “CAW CAW!” You look back at the bewildered expressions of the three and start laughing. “Just kidding. Sorry I couldn’t resist.” They all chuckle.

You reach in your back pocket and pull out a falconry glove. Slipping it on, you warg into Redtail turning your eyes yellow and ask her to come to you. Redtail makes a graceful arc from the dogwood tree she had been resting in and landed on your upheld hand. “Hello there, sweet girl. How do you like your new spot?” Redtail looks at you tilting her head.

“Does she understand you?” Sam asks.

“No, we can communicate when I warg, but it’s more like an exchange of images than it is talking.” You warg for a moment to ask Redtail if she can bring her closer to the three curious men and once you receive her consent you release the warg. “I’m going to bring her closer but please keep your hands down, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Steve says.

“So, she’s your pet?” Bucky asks as you walk closer.

“No, I don't take care of her. She’s not my pet. She’s my companion, my friend.” You say petting the bird's chest. “Would you like to pet her?”

Bucky nods and you take his right hand in yours and bring it up to Redtail’s chest allowing him to pet her. She makes a small chittering sound and you smile at Bucky, “She likes you.” He smiles sweetly.

You move to Sam next and Redtail immediately starts chittering again. You take Sam’s hand and bring it up to her chest like you did with Bucky. Redtail leans into Sam’s hand and tilts her head back and forth studying him. She starts to reach a claw out to move to his hand but you warg to her and show her her talons tearing his skin. “Wow, she really likes you. I guess she sees a fellow bird.” You laugh.

“I do have a way with the ladies.” Sam grins.

You move to Steve last and allow him to pet Redtail. When you look at him he’s grinning and you can’t help but smile at the reactions each of the guys had to her. You look at Redtail, “Thank you, my friend.” You lift your arm in the air and she takes flight.

“She’s beautiful.” Steve says.

“Yeah, she is. I’m so grateful for how she’s stuck with me. I try to always give her the respect she deserves.” You say.

“So, you warg into her just whenever you want?” Bucky asks.

“I can. I usually warg into her and ask her permission. She’s rarely denied me. She was always curious about humans and she feels safe with me, but she’s still a wild animal and I don’t want her to lose that. I want her to always be free, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Bucky says with a smile.

“Why don’t we head in and find some dinner?” Steve suggests.

“Sounds good to me. I’m starving.” Sam says.

As you walk in, you remember you have no food here and need to go to a store. “Hey Steve. Is there a vehicle I can use?”

“What for?” He asks.

“My grand escape plan.” You deadpan, “I’d like to go to a store and pick up a few things. Or am I confined to the compound?”

“No, of course not. You can use the SUV in the garage. Keys are in the locker. Scan your thumb to access it.” Steve says.

“Great. Thanks. You guys need anything?”

A round of no’s from them, you head to the store to pick up some essentials and food. The rest of the night is spent settling in.

Part 2

Masterlist

#marvel #marvel fanfic #inhuman #inhuman fanfic #avengers #avengers fanfic #bucky #steve #captain america #fanfic #terrigenisis #x you #x reader #reader insert #bucky barnes #steve rogers

574 notes · View notes

xoxo-ren-xoxo · 3 years

Text

Unpopular Opinion /lh /rp

Talking about dSMP character’s heights and sort of their body types? Not in a weird way just in a ‘how I imagine them’ way. Loosely based off of their irl heights, but some of them I don’t know, so it’s mostly guesswork and vibes. Also if you disagree you’re wrong. (Just kidding leave your ideas in the tags/replies)

Obviously this is all roleplay/character stuff. None of it is intended to be weird or to reflect on the irl people! I’m just having fun with headcanons :)

Tommy is 6′3 and very very lanky. This child is not short. Stop drawing him short. He’s taller than Techno. He’s not as tall as Wilbur, but he’s tall. He towers over most people. Emphasis on most because everyone is so tall on this server what the hell?

Anyway I think the mental image of this super tall kid actively trying to make himself look shorter/smaller is heartbreaking. Like imagine him curled up into a corner trying to make himself as unnoticable as possible in Logsted. Imagine him slouching when living with Techno to try to make himself seem like less of a ‘problem’. Imagine Dream telling him that he’s a ‘big strong man’ and that he shouldn’t need help, he can defend himself, so when he goes back to Tubbo, he tries to make himself look *tiny* as a cry for help. He wants comfort.

But he’s also incedibly skinny. Back in L’manburg and Pogtopia, he developed some muscle from all the fighting. His shoulders broadened out and he looked slightly intimidating. But like most teenage boys, he was still lanky as hell. This only got worse when he was exiled to Logstedshire, with little food (and no drive to eat the food, or get up, or exersise) he became more malnourished and he just looked *small* despite being 6′3. This probably isn’t helped by the constant use of golden apples when he moves in with Techno, which give him energy and strength but no real nutritional value. Techno was just trying to get the kid to eat normally. When he finally stands at his full height, Techno is shocked that he didn’t notice all the slouching.

Anyway Techno is 6′2. He’s taller than a lot of people but not as tall as his brothers. He makes up for this with muscle and strength and a healthy body. Wow, the only healthy person on the server. Amazing. You love to see it. Good for him. He could win in a battle of raw strength against anyone else on the server. He’s quite broad, which makes him look bigger generally.

Wilbur is 6′5 and also he is a stick. Just. Straight up and down stick. Nothing there! He is just a pale sickly stick. This gets worse the further into the timeline you go. When claiming L’manburg and fighting in the war he starts to get insomnia, causing him to look like a corpse half the time. When in Pogtopia, he’s too busy to take care of himself properly, so he only looks worse and worse. His hair is a mess, his skin is far too pale, and he only eats enough to be able to hold his own in a short fight. There’s a reason he doesn’t wear armour or really try to fight at all. He’s subconciously self-destructive, then actively so when he blows the place to the ground. He’s always been too busy for self-care.

Ghostbur is a much more healthy, younger version of Wilbur. I would say he’s ‘water rising’ era Wilbur. The life returned to his body, in a morbid kind of way. He’s still tall but he prefers to make himself seem shorter just to be less threatening.

Phil is 5′11. He has an average build, with slight muscle from the years of playing in hardcore. He’s older, now, but he can still kick your ass. Also, he taught Techno how to fight smart, not hard. He doesn’t need to be super strong because he’s intelligent enough to outwit most people on the server. He has a wordly knowledge that others don’t possess. He also has wings, large and grey, clipped so he could get onto the server (there is a no flying rule after all).

Fundy is... 5′10, just a little shorter than Phil. His fox genes make him smaller, despite his father being 6′5. He’s got a healthy, svelte build. He’s sneaky and light on his feet. In the wars he built up some muscle, but it was quickly lost since he prefers to take a backseat to any fighting outside of those times (especially now) and he’s built for spying.

Schlatt is an interesting one because a lot of people are gonna fight me on this, but he’s not actually old. Everyone calls him old but honestly I think he’s younger than Wilbur (in canon, I feel like Wilbur is in his late 30s, early 40s, simply because). I think Schlatt’s around 35-ish, but he looks older due to his shitty health. People call him an old man either to demean him or because they see his actions and appearance and go ‘yeah, this guy is old’. Which is fair enough, because irl Schlatt and c!Schlatt both act like they’re from the 1950s.

This guy looks like shit by the end, but he looks alright at the start. Slicked-back hair, sharp ram horns, golden animalistic eyes. He’s intimidating. And loud. Then everything shifts, right towards the end. He’s frail and deteriorating throughout his short presidency, and by the end of it he’s practically a corpse, just like Wilbur.

He’s 6′3, with broad shoulders and a silhouette that seems strong not only because he carries himself as if he can fight, but also because of the percieved power that comes along with it. In reality, Schlatt is a poor fighter, and the abuse he ends up putting his body through (working out excessively to try to fight his condition, and turning to alcoholism as an escape) completely destroys him, making him probably one of the least healthy and weakest people on the server. It doesn’t really show until his death scene, since he’s covered up the deterioration since day one. Basically, mans is dead.

Glatt, or Ghost Schlatt, or whatever you want to call him, would be a healthier Schlatt. Again, from the ‘water rising’ era. I headcanon him to have longer hair in that era. Not sure why.

Ranboo is the same height as tommy, but is more naturally lithe than made that way by lack of food. His enderman DNA can be blamed for that. He’s healthy most of the time, but may have spirals where he doesn’t take good care of himself (perhaps he forgets) and he looks pretty bad. If he goes a few days without keeping up his self-care routine, he looks a lot worse than he actually is. Sleep tends to be his biggest issue, his mind keeping him awake all night and leaving him looking like shit in the morning. Really, he’s just a kid with a troubled soul, and it shows sometimes. Most days, though, he looks very well put together.

Tubbo. He’s 5′6. He’s more childlike than Tommy, which only makes it worse when he acts in the way he does in season 2. He has burn scars across one side of his body, from his execution, and he is partially blind in one eye because of it. He takes very good care of himself, since he has to look good while being president if he wants those sweet sweet approval ratings. But when he’s super stressed, he will pull all-nighters and forget to eat. He’s got a lot of issues, but his body is very normal and healthy, all things considered.

Quackity is 5′8. Which is really funny because that’s his actual height. He’s less sharp (?) than a lot of people on the server, but he has some muscle because he’s constantly training to ‘take down Technoblade’ (in reality, it’s a habit he picked up in Schlatt’s era, and never had the heart to drop). He tries his best to stay healthy (again, to better kill Techno) and he’s careful with his life, knowing that it’s his last.

Niki is 5′5. She’s also able to kick so much ass. That is all.

Dream is a bitch and therefore I will not be discussing him. Also he’s a blob or whatever so I guess height is irrelevant. Or maybe he’s a mysterious figure with a mask. Who knows.

No one else is important enough to talk about /j (but really I’m tired so I will stop here). Put your own thoughts in the comments, tags, and rbs. This was all in good fun, so don’t get mad haha.

#dreamsmp #dream smp #jschlatt #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tw alchoholism #tw self-destructive behaviours #quackity #tubbo #dream #ranboo #philza #technoblade #niki nihachu

74 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 5/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

~~~~

Robin gets to the phone first.

Steve was too busy wallowing in his bed to get up and answer, though he figures it might be worth seeing who it is that’s calling. None of the kids call him anymore, but he always considers, even if it’s for just a moment, that it could be an emergency. He’ll know whenever he decides to get up, or if Robin even decides to pick it up.

Its ring echoes shrill and loud in the apartment, the tone making him want to wrap himself in a blanket and never come out, so he slides out of his bed, calling down the stairs in search of a solution to end the noise, “You gonna get that Rob?”

For a moment, he wonders if she’ll even respond. It’s barely been a couple of hours since he made her cry, but she calls back, “Are you expecting a call?”

Relieved to know she at least still tolerates him, Steve answers, “Nope.”

“Then no.” Comes her simple response, and the phone ringing promptly dies out, “Guess it didn’t matter anyways.”

But almost immediately, it starts up again, somehow sounding more sharp than before. Steve tells her just to get it so the ringing will stop, coming down the steps to see for himself who it is calling.

He watches Robin pull the receiver from its base, in the place of a greeting going straight for, “What do you want?”

Steve takes note of the fact that her mood isn’t entirely better yet, though he’s definitely glad she’s taking those feelings out on the telephone and not on him, but, despite her abrasiveness, she still receives no response.

It looks like she’s going to hang up before she hears something, her features closing off as she focuses on whatever comes through the other end, “Hello? I can’t hear you. Who is this?”

There’s a whining static loud enough for even Steve to hear from the other side of the room, getting louder, and then a pop that makes the lights flicker and the phone die out, making Robin shriek and drop it, shaking out her hand.

“Son of a bitch shocked me.” She mumbles, picking up the dead receiver and showing Steve the two burnt ends.

In the moment though, something he’ll perhaps feel bad for another time, Steve isn’t worried about his friend. He isn’t rushing to see what happened and check if she got burnt, he instead just freezes up, filtering through the overwhelming questions filling his head to ask, “Did you hear who it was?”

“No, it just sounded like it was all distorted.”

Her answer is nonchalant, but it makes Steve feel weak and panicky, sitting down at the table as pale as a ghost.

That’s obviously not a normal reaction, and Robin asks, tone more afraid than concerned, which he thinks that’s appropriate for what just happened, “What’s going on Steve?”

Grimly, he explains, “Mrs Byers’ phone did that twice before, blowing up after a call just like that.”

“Okay, well maybe there’s just a storm coming and it’s just a coincidence that happened to her too?” She tries to reason, but Steve already knows, he's felt this dread before. “No, Robs. It happened because Will called her from the Upside Down.”

“But then that means-“ Robin starts, working through the implications, Steve finishing the statement for her, “Someone is trapped over there.”

“Holy shit, but the gate, hasn’t it been closed for a year and a half now?“

“Unless someone else opened it, yeah.”

Stiffly she nods, asking hesitantly, be it because of her questions or the disagreement between them earlier, “Well what do we do?”

A reflection of his lack for anything but pessimistic doomsdaying anymore, Steve worries, “What can we do, Robin? I’ve only ever fought the things that end up in our world, and you’ve never even seen half of the monsters that come from over there. We’re too overpowered here.”

More rational than her friend, Robin suggests, “I think we should get a hold of Eleven. You said she's the one that really understands any of this other dimension stuff. She can help.”

But Steve shakes his head, “Her powers are gone. She might know what to do, but I don’t think she’ll be able to do anything.”

“So you just want to leave whoever it is over there?”

“No, fuck no. That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what should we do?”

“I don’t know..” Steve frowns, thinking hard before he answers determinedly, “But whoever it is, they reached out to us. We have to help them.”

~~~~

The phone doesn’t work.

What is Billy supposed to do? He’s tried everything, and with his last resort at reaching out a dud, he’s not sure what else he even can do.

So, in true Billy Hargrove fashion, he lashes out, cursing and unnecessarily yanking the phone jack out of the wall, the plastic handheld skidding across the kitchen tile into the corner, “Goddamnit!”

The noise may have been a mistake though, because, despite how sure he was the dogs wouldn’t find this place, he hears a chitter, and the click of claws on hardwood floors. The damn thing is in the house, and his machete is by the door.

A recurring theme with these hell beasts, is that there’s never enough time to run, but unless he wants to use decorative mugs or a cookie jar to fight it, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to try.

He makes two mistakes as he runs, the first being that he hesitates, not wanting to leave Steve. Even if he couldn’t find him he had gotten so damn close, but a snarl from the dog puts things into perspective, and, with a heavy feeling of remorse in his chest, he leaves through the backdoor as quietly as he can, bolting down the rotting back steps.

His second mistake is looking over his shoulder. Just as his boots touch brittle grass, he decides just to glance back and see how much space is between him and the hellhound, but the second he sees it, he just freezes up.

Because it’s fucking big, for one thing. It has to force itself through the door frame, meaning it’s wider than he is. It has a lot more teeth than the others. It’s skin is pale and it’s limbs much longer. Something tells him the others he’s seen are immature, and this one is close to its final form, whatever that may be. Either way, he’s decidedly not fucking around with that.

The daunting unfamiliarity of this part of Hawkins, intimidating as it is, isn’t Billy’s main concern right now. He just bolts like a coward, hoping against hope that there’ll be anything along his path he won’t have to corner himself to get that can be used as a weapon, basically his only other option for surviving this that this amped up dog will get bored of him fast.

But, and really, he knew this was the case, he just hadn’t wanted to admit he was prey yet, it easily charges him, going up on its back legs to knock him off his balance. It misses at first, so he thankfully doesn’t get pushed to the ground, but his reflexes, especially when blurred by emotion, are no match to a monster of this size, and before he can even process its next move, it clamps its teeth on his arm.

Now, he’s been here for a while. He’s had scratches and cuts and welts from their tails, but he’d always been quick enough, smart enough, prepared enough to not get bit. Which he really wishes was still something he could still attest to, because it fucking hurts. Razor sharp teeth from too many mouths tear into the muscle, a stinging pain all the way from the point of impact in his wrist up to his shoulder.

It’s his fault, all this stuff with Steve was getting to his head, feeling his presence and hearing his voice again for the first time in god knows how long only to be unable to reach him. It was doing things to his judgement.

But this is still bad. Really fucking bad.

As soon as it lets go, he knows it’s going to latch onto him again, so he does what he does best in a situation where he’s hurt and scared and alone. He cries, for one thing, but he also fights. But where he’d normally just use his fists and his ego to prove his strength, this world is built differently. Even with a pocket knife to stand up for himself that’s not enough to survive, but he’s still going to make it count. If at the end of this he goes down, it won’t be without a fight.

A fight to just get back to the way things were. To prove to himself he could do this and survive. For once in his fucking life, just to overcome hardship and move the hell forward, no cycles of hatred and pain, love and respect drawing him back. Nobody else in control of his body. Nobody else holding him back from being happy.

He just wants to survive this.

There’s blood on his jacket sleeve, but Billy refuses to look at how bad the wound truly is yet. There quite frankly isn’t enough oxygen down here to afford a panic, but from the pain and the blood alone, he knows it’s not going to be good for him.

The fighting isn’t going too well either, with only one arm not weighed down by injury and a knife the size of his palm his last standing lines of defense, it’s mostly him dodging the creature and flailing his limbs to either stop an incoming bite or confuse it, both of them too confident in its ability to tear him to shreds to advance further than that.

But it gets bored of fucking around with him, and it rises to its back legs again, and Billy knows he’s fucked, squeezing his eyes shut and blocking his face, but the attack never comes. There’s a huge crack of lightning in the ever looming storm above, and a chorus of eerie chittering from more dogs at varying degrees of closeness to where they are, and it draws the attention of the big one away.

While the monster is distracted, he uses that opportunity to his advantage, takes charge of his circumstances to give himself a fighting chance. That strategy never worked for him before, only ever got him into deeper shit, but he can’t exactly just stand here and be monster bait either so, though it breaks his heart to put that distance between him and Steve, Billy chooses to run.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #steve x billy #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#tw injury #more tags on ao3 #shortest chapter by far #just filler but the one coming tomorrow is big!

16 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|15

chapter 15: the soundtrack

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tom & y/n think they’re alone now

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluffy, angsty, mentions of sex, swearing, rollercoaster seriously.

word count: 8.3k

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) :

tweets, texts and instagram: what went behind the scenes between Tom and Y/n

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

So, the last chapter came earlier and I thought I wouldn’t have time to write this one but turns out I managed to write 8k words in 2 nights and well, this chapter was a rollercoaster to write and it’ll be more of a rollercoaster to read, good luck, may the odds be ever in your favor, as usual, leave comments, reblog and stuff

Scars talk, and they’re painful reminders of what’s gone through. Invisible scars hurt more, silent screams of pain, of sorrow. Of things left unsaid or dreams waiting to be turned into plans, but never did. The constant admonitions of what once could’ve been, and the misery of never knowing why it didn’t go. Knowing it was your fault. Scared that the rain will pour down again. But the rain was soothing, wasn’t it? Y/N had always found the rain exciting, like a new adventure.

It wasn’t raining in New York, but it would when they went back to London. She knew that. A storm would rip it off of her anymore. Maybe maybe that’s why she lived in the fantasy of whatever the city was offering her. A new adventure and a new chance to fall back into the place where she’d felt safe. Wondering if it would continue to be like the fairytale. It kept her guessing.

Days in New York were counted, and the city lights were so blinding. What’s at the end of the tunnel? Another disappointment? But she wasn’t giving in, not yet. Of course, Tom probably hadn’t noticed it, right? He probably hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t truly… giving in. But she was protecting her heart this time. She wouldn’t let him now that she had a wall built up all around her, because this wouldn’t last.

But damn, he was just… So blinding. But she was seeing the end of it, she saw herself crying in that dark room, she saw herself having to box in everything. Having to put away these lipsticks, because he’d kissed them, she saw herself crying over New York. She didn’t want this to be Rome.

But she wanted to change this, this time she wanted to remember the good things, even if he was going to break her heart, she wanted to remember him smiling at her. Tangled in the sheets and laughing at nothing. Staring at the city. Because the memories would follow her around anyway, better make them happy.

Was he pretending?

But she’d found a certain peace, waking up by his side, to a kiss. Everything had changed, and she couldn’t quite map it out just yet. Two months ago they had been arguing, and avoiding their glance. Hell, a month ago she was rolling her eyes at him in her office.

But she needed to be certain, he had changed, right? It wasn’t all in her mind. It couldn’t be, he had turned into a stranger. A stranger that had her on the edge of falling in love.

She already had, but she… wouldn’t admit it just yet.

And there was Timmy. Timmy who made everything easy, with those curls and that smile. The way he easily brought back the sunlight, the way he told her that even if Tom rained on her, he’d bring the promise to bring back the sun, with a rainbow. Timmy with the promise of making sure that y/n would enjoy the rain. He’d keep her warm, and he’d make her listen to music.

She hadn’t given him the ring back, and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t want to give it back. Because he had said it ‘it’s yours’. Because he had said it, the ring was his heart, and somehow y/n still wanted to keep his heart. Because she’d loved him so much. And maybe Tom was just a whim that she hadn’t just yet satisfied.

But she had, and it wasn’t enough. Because Tom was going to be tattooed all around her body. He was that scar that would never heal. And Timmy didn’t deserve someone with a scar that big. A part of her knew she didn’t deserve Timmy, but the other part just wanted to run back to him, and let the rain pour on her as he made the rain magical.

But then again, the trace of Tom would never be gone. And why was she even deciding that? Why was she seeing the end of the road already? Why couldn’t she let herself enjoy the journey.

And she wasn’t certain that Tom would hurt her this time. If anything she could be the one to fuck up this time. The script. The damned script. Maybe she could tell him. Make sure she’s not the one to fuck it up. But what would she tell him? It was delicate.

Because she didn’t want to break his heart, not really. But she didn’t want him to break her either.

And it was a weird feeling, not wanting to hurt your enemy. Because deep down, it felt like both of them were being defensive. Tom had been defensive, too. He feared that y/n was also trying to hurt him. To get back for what he’d done.

He knew he deserved it, but… It hurt. And Tom was so anxious about it. She probably loved Timmy still, that’s why it had bothered him so much.

And because he felt that Timmy was actually right, maybe he didn’t know her anymore. Because throughout the years they’d both built walls to keep the other away, so they wouldn’t know they’d hurt each other. Because they knew how to push their buttons, but both of them had armors.

Fenced feelings. Caged love, if you may. And Tom didn’t care. Tom didn’t care if she wanted to break his heart, he just wanted to be able to have the chance to love her, even if it didn’t last. He also wanted her to remember him with a smile.

Why were both of them looking at the end?

It seemed like both of them knew this, as he had walked back into the hotel. Tom watched y/n from afar as she had said goodbye to Tim. And Tom feared it again, the fact that she still loved Timmy, because there was that shimmer in her eyes. Because she seemed calm. She wasn’t foiling and not avoiding her smile. Like she did with Tom.

She would often smile to herself, and she’d take a deep breath and look away, smiling for sure, whenever Tom said something nice. As if she was trying to stop herself from being happy.

But then her eyes landed on him, and she did it again. She took a deep breath. She always did, like she was mentally preparing herself to face him.

They hadn’t left on good terms, they’d had an argument over Tim. Not the best of terms, and though y/n had assured Tom there was nothing to worry about… He didn’t trust her. Maybe y/n was doing all of this just to hurt him.

But she walked to him and placed a kiss on his lips. Tom didn’t kiss her back, but he took her hand anyway as they made their way into the elevator. He let her go as soon as the doors had closed.

The air felt cold, and he wasn’t really that sure if it was the air conditioner. They stood on opposite sides of the elevator, facing each other.

“So you’re still angry,” she pointed out.

Tom looked up at her, her lipstick wasn’t as bright as when she’d left. It had probably stained the...Beer? Glass? He couldn’t even think of what her drink had been. Because he didn’t know her. And probably Timmy had ordered for her, knowing what exactly her signature drink was.

“I’m not angry,” Tom answered, and then took out his phone, he scrolled through the apps.

She sighed, as she walked over to his side. “Seems like you are.”

He locked his phone and then avoided her gaze. “Well I—I am just bothered by him,” he admitted. “He just pranced around when he left.”

She frowned as she went back to her side. Why did they have to be in such a high floor?”

“You’ve been crueler to him, though,” she pointed out.

He looked up, “I have not.”

She chuckled as she made her way back over once again, she lifted his chin. “Kissing me every time he’s around?”

He cleared his throat. “No, he happens to be around every time we kiss,” he looked her in the eyes.

“Why are you bothered by him?”

“Because we are—dating y/n,” it was weird saying it out loud. “And the first thing you do is have dinner with your ex?”

She bit her lip. “I only did it to ask him a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Not to tell anyone about us,” she admitted.

Tom opened his mouth to complain but then closed it quickly. He coughed. “Ah… oh.”

She was the one to avoid his sight this time. “I don’t even know why you’re bothered if you’re the one who gets to go to bed with me tonight.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Because.”

She frowned. “I’m not your property.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that,” he really didn’t want to go through the argument again. Stupid argument. “But I—I got jealous, okay?”

“That’s stupid,” y/n pointed out. “But you’re stupid so that’s in character,” she crossed her arms, and tapped her foot anxiously.

“Is it stupid? Really? Because you told me you still loved each other when you broke up,” Tom said with venom. And because Tim had opened up a wound that Tom didn’t even know he had.

She was going to yell, Tom saw it. But instead she approached him, carefully. “He’ll always have a place in my heart but right now,” she took his hand and with the other cupped his face. “I’m dating you okay? And—even if it’s weird at times,” she let out a soft chuckle. “and I’m not sure how to act around my biggest enemy, I like you and only you,” she whispered before kissing him, softly.

Tom immediately kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

“Okay?” She asked as she pulled away.

“Hm.”

“I’ll prove it to you, alright?” she grinned as the elevator door opened.

Y/N and Tom were not initially going to share a room. They hadn’t planned it like that, but after the third night of y/n not sleeping there, they decided to get rid of the extra room. But Tom wished they had separate rooms right now, he needed some time to himself. He was angry, but he didn’t want to be. And he knew it was stupid arguing over that, and he knew that arguing would only make them grow apart and he didn’t want that. But he needed to cool off.

It wasn’t her fault… Well, it was for accepting it, but not really. This was all on his mind, and no… This was Timmy’s fault.

But it was all in his head, right? Y/N kissed his cheek once again as they walked into the room.

Tom sat on the bed and scrolled through his phone, he ignored whatever she was doing, she had explored in her drawers and then locked herself in the bathroom, maybe she needed time, too. He ignored it. Because he could only go back to the conversation with Timothée. And he started to think about it, maybe TIm was right. He didn’t know y/n. And that kiss on the elevator had only proved to Tom that the relationship was only that so far. Getting each other to bed. As simple. But, it wasn’t just that, right?

They were spending time together. But it… It was different because they both have known each other their whole lives and honestly, they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. It was as if they had been so desperate to kiss each other. It probably was that. Yes.

There was a spark between them, there were feelings involved. Unless… No, Tom erased the thought of his head. But he knew y/n enough to know that throughout these days she’d been different. It wasn’t like in Rome when she didn’t care, she seemed careful. And of course, he didn’t blame her. But… Maybe she really wouldn’t go any further.

He laid down on the bed, uncertain of what he could say, or what he could do. He didn’t even hear her open the door, he just rubbed his face with stress.

She cleared her throat to gain his attention. Tom frowned but then looked up, she was standing with the pink underwear he’d annoyed her with back when they were packing, the flowers silking her intimate parts, leaving barely anything to the imagination.

She stood there shyly as Tom saw her struggling to pose.

“Oh,” Tom couldn’t help but blush and crawl to the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand to pull her close to him. He placed his cold hands on her waist and she ran a hand through his hair with a smirk.

She leaned over and kissed the edge of his lips as his hands went to her back.

“See? Are you still jealous?” She questioned as she sat on his lap, wrapping herself around him.

“A little,” he answered cockily.

She chuckled as she finally placed a sweet kiss on his lips, pushing him to lay down on the bed, his hands struggled to keep at one place, but he managed to pull her even closer.

But then the thought was back in his head. This was all their relationship was. Only sex, like Timmy had said. No magic. Nothing else.

And he had to pull away, “No, wait,” he said as she took his lips away from her as an invitation to kiss her way down to his collarbone. Tom closed his eyes. “Wait... stop.”

She did, looking up. “Hm?”

“No—This is,” he squeezed his eyes shut, as she sat up.

“Wait, you don’t like it?” She asked timidly. “Or—uh should I turn off the lights--”

“No—”

There was a look on her face, so insecure as she stared at him. “Or—uh, I brought...another one,” she offered.

“No, no, you look beautiful,” he stated as he sat up, caressing her cheek. “And I hate myself for… Stopping you but—we, I don’t want this.”

Y/N frowned but nodded as she stood up. “Oh, sorry, I thought you’d like this lingerie, or wait-”

“No, I do… I love it,” Tom pulled her back to him.

“Is it—my hair? Or—the lipstick?” She genuinely seemed to be worried about it.

Tom pulled her face again to kiss her. “Y/N, no stop, you look beautiful okay? You’re incredibly beautiful I’m just—” He didn't even understand what he was trying to say.

“Oh you’re not in the mood, okay, Tom is it really because of the whole Timmy--” She didn’t finish the sentence.

Tom looked down at one of her hands that was gently caressing his arm. “No, no it’s—Not that but now that you bring it up,” Tom clenched his jaw.

“Sorry, no, I’ll go get changed,” she finally stood up and made her way back into the bathroom. She slammed the door closed.

“No y/n wait,” he stood behind the bathroom door. He rubbed his face again. “I just—no, don’t get this wrong, I just... I don’t want this to be only sex,” he admitted.

“What?” Y/N asked, as she walked out with the hoodie Tom had left in the bathroom. “Sorry I didn’t bring any clothes in-”

“No, it’s… perfect, wear it, looks better on you” he said as he watched her run to her drawers. He followed after her.

“But what were you saying?” She tried not to look up as she was too invested in her clothes.

Tom closed the drawer and lifted her chin. “Whatever we have I don’t want us to be only sex.”

She frowned. “It hasn’t been-”

“I mean—it kind of has been, y/n,” He stated as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Has it?”

“I mean,” he chuckled. “That’s kind of what’s been going on since we arrived,” he pointed out.

She blushed avoiding his glance, “Oh, and… you don’t want that?” She smirked.

“No.”

Y/N looked back up at him with confusion.

“I mean yes,” he cleared his throat. He let her go and then made his way back to sit on the bed. “But I also want what Timmy so fell in love with okay?”

She scowled. “Tom don’t bring him up,” she begged.

“I want that magic y/n, I want you to do whatever you did to put him on a spell,” Tom continued.

She crossed her arms. “I didn’t do—”

He reached for her arms and dragged her close to him, he turned her head delicately to make her face him. “I look, I have feelings for you. Okay?” He started ,she opened her mouth but he shook her head. “And I—I know you’re scared,” he conceded. “and that’s probably why you keep doing this as if trying to soothe me down.”

“Doing what?” She chuckled. “Sleeping with you?”

He closed his eyes. “That came out wrong.”

“You think?”

“What I—“he took her hands in his, “what I mean… is I want the real you, okay?” He smiled softly. “and I know you enough to know that even though this part of you is incredibly amazing—I want those little moments with you, I want to feel like time stops,” he grinned.

She burst out with laughter, “You’re so cheesy.”

He laughed, “y/n!”

She leaned over to pepper his face with kisses. “Sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, I have never been an angel—“

“You don’t say,” she rolled her eyes, but sat back on his laugh.

“and—the only thing I’ve been good at is breaking your heart.”

She smiled sadly. “Well.”

“and I know we are taking things slow…”

She chuckled. “You really think we are going slow? You call this going slow?” She asked with sarcasm.

“In the feelings department y/n I don’t think we’ve made any progress,” he pointed out.

Her smile was gone and she only wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into him. “Well…”

“And look I—“

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she whispered.

He knew what she meant, he knew that she probably was giving him all she could, because she seemed to have very big walls built up for him.

“Look, I’ve had—A lot of fun these nights,” Tom admitted.

“Yeah, me too.”

“But that’s not what I want…”he continued.

She looked up with a mischievous smile

“I mean, I do—but not only that,” he laughed.

“What do you want Tom?” She sat up and now was looking him in the eyes.

He pursed his lips. “A love story, and I know and I hate myself for bringing that idiot up but—I want us to be able to have those little moments you always had with Tim.”

“Every relationship is different, Tom,” she said, again not wanting to meet his eyes.

“Yes but are we even in a relationship?” He sounded exasperated. He bit his inner cheek, “Look I’m not complaining, I’ve been playing a huge role on whatever this is, and I do admit I can’t keep my lips off yours but.”

She smirked smugly. “So no more kissing.”

He frowned. “No no, yes--more kissing I’m—don’t twist my words—,” he grinned as she snickered. “Kissing is fine… In fact, we should kiss more often.”

“Well what were you trying to say, then?” She questioned.

“Wait just so we are clear this—”He leaned over to give her a long kiss, she was smiling against his lips. “This is good, okay?”

She beamed. “Okay.”

“Actually too good,” he leaned over again. “I—we are a good team in that territory.”

“Excellent team,” she agreed, giggling.

“But—I want to have more than this,” he pushed her hair back. “and I’m sure you are so scared of it, and I know it’s easier to maintain a physical relationship and that’s why you’ve been—very nice but,” he coughed.

“You haven’t complained, dumbass,” she teased.

“I’m not, I’m really not-,”he was nervous, but she kept laughing, “y/n stop—I’m not complaining, idiot,” he snickered.

She placed a kiss on his cheek. “No, I know where you’re coming from.”

They stayed quiet. Did she really understand what he was trying to tell her? Because Tom had been bothered, really bothered by what Timothée had dared to say.

“You’re scared aren’t you?” He asked her.

She looked down, as if trying to understand her own emotions, Tom only brushed her cheek. “Everyone tells me to be,” was her final answer.

“But are you?”

“It’s my heart what 's at stake Tom, I can’t—”She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to tell him, she seemed as troubled as Tom. “I just don’t want you to let me down this time, it’s easier to build up barriers.”

“I understand that but let me prove to you I’ve changed,” Tom whispered.

She smiled, softly, threading her fingers lightly to his lips. “I can tell, it’s in your eyes, they’re tender now.”

He grinned, and leaned over to kiss her but she stopped him.

“But I mean you’re an actor and,” she pulled away.

“Y/N.”

She looked at him, and he read her eyes, she seemed confused, or nervous, and scared. Or everything at once. As if she was trying to get him to solve all her thoughts in her complicated mind.

“No, no it’s real,” well he could start with that, he kissed her forehead. “And look, I understand if you’re skeptical about opening your heart to me—“

She bit her lip. “I just need collateral, Tom.”

He chuckled. “collateral? Like a bank—Like my house?”

She closed her eyes, holding back a giggle. “No, idiot I was being—I tried to make a joke,” she smirked.

He pressed his lips against hers. “How about my own heart as collateral?” He suggested.

“That’s so cheesy,” she rolled her eyes.

He placed light kisses to her cheeks and neck. “Well it’s done, you have my heart as a collateral no matter how cheesy.”

“Hm, I should’ve accepted the house,” she scoffed. “What the hell will I do with your heart?”

He cackled. “You’re so stupid.”

She pecked his lips. “I know.”

He gulped, knowing that the conversation he wanted to truly have was far from over. But it didn’t matter. They were on better terms than hours ago. Which reminded him of why they had had the argument in the first place.

“I also want to apologize for…” he took a deep breath. “look I—I’m sorry for getting all angry earlier, it's just…”

She shook her head. “No I get why.”

“Yeah but I shouldn’t get angry we are—I mean we are not-“

“Oh, we aren’t? What aren’t we?” She smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“I’m messing with you.”

“I’m sorry I got so tense I just—I know what Timmy was to you and I—“

“You were jealous, I get it, I’d be if you had had dinner with any of your exes.”

He nodded. Yeah But—I sorry I just—“he stayed quiet, for a bit, debating whether he should tell her what he was about to tell her. “Look, the… the flowers.”

“I know they were his,” she assured him.

And he hadn’t expected that answer. And now he was feeling even more insecure, was that the reason why she’d gone to dinner with Tim?

“You did?” He gulped.

“Peonies, that’s his signature flower for me,” she explained. “But—“she shrugged. “You always have them to me in a special way so I—pretended they were from you.”

“Well if you knew why did you—thank me?” Tom frowned.

“Dunno, needed an excuse to kiss you I guess,” she shrugged.

He chuckled. “You don’t need an excuse for that, you know that right?”

She licked her lips. “Hm but it makes it fun.”

He still had a lot of questions roaming in his mind. “So what did you—why did you go out with him?”

She finally got off his lap, he frowned. “I needed to check on him, we haven’t exactly—Well you have been a little harsh.”

He scoffed, “Me?”

“Just like when you were a kid, prancing around with your new toy,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not a toy.”

“No, I’m not,” she chuckled. “but that’s what you’re doing, like with everything you do, you’re showing off.”

“Well you can’t blame me,” he reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss. “just look at the girl I'm dating right now.

She rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

He beamed. “Stupid.”

He cupped her face and kissed her, it was all he needed right now. They laid down, as she tried to deepen the kiss. But he still had a lot of things to say to her, a lot of thoughts waiting to surface.

He pulled back again, she frowned.

“Now—“

“I know, I know— I just really want you to understand that you can take it as slow as you want alright? Let me prove to you that you can feel something for me too, okay?”

She chuckled. “And what do you feel?”

“I—I dunno butterflies for now,” he admitted.

She scrunched her nose. “Maybe you’re nauseous.”

“Hmmm no, those are butterflies…” he beamed before kissing her again, a loud growl was heard from her stomach. He had to pull away to laugh. “but those aren’t butterflies”

“Oh my god,” she blushed and crawled away embarrassed “I’m sorry I’m hungry I didn’t eat anything—“

“You’re hungry?” He asked between laughs. “Oh,okay you think they have room service at this hour—“

“What if we—go out?” She suggested.

“Out?” He grinned. “There’s a few nice places open at this hour… let me call a car,” he reached for his phone, but she stopped him.

“No, let's go for a walk,” she grinned.

“ y/n all we're gonna find are some street hot dogs,” he teased.

She smiled. “That sounds like a great idea!”

He raised his brows. “What?”

“Yeah, let’s go for some street hot dogs,” she gushed.

“But wouldn’t you like something nicer?” He questioned. “Really I can make a call and—“

“You said you wanted the magic didn’t you? Street hot dogs are gonna make the magic trust me,” she winked at him as she went to put on a pair of jeans.

And luckily enough, there had been a hot dog stand right in their street, very New York style, right outside a convenience store.

There was a shimmer in her eyes, as they were nibbling on the hot dogs, in the middle of the night, it seemed like a dream. Though the hot dogs probably weren’t the best food he had, he thought to himself that it probably was the best meal he’d had. Most random one, probably.

Leaning against a New York wall, with the city lights blinding them. Crowds still going. And yet it felt like it was only the two of them. Enjoying a street hotdog.

“You’ve got a little bit of ketchup over there,” y/n pointed out before brushing it off with her napkin, she then brushed her own finger against his lip.

She didn’t pull away her hand to him. “I was thinking.”

“About ketchup?” She chuckled.

“I just feel like we barely know each other,” he said.

She burst into laughter. “You know my favorite color, not a lot of people know that.”

He snickered. “Yes but that’s not—not what I meant, you see I know a lot of things about you but we don’t—know each other.”

He had finally said it, what he feared the most.

“But we’ve known each other our whole lives, Tom, literally,” she nudged him. “We must know a thing or two.”

“It’s different,” he said before taking a bite of her hotdog.

“Hey! You have yours over there!” She giggled. “Is it really?”

He smirked. “Yes, y/n, I never know what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

She jeered. “A lot of things, really it’s kind of a mess, especially around you.”

He elbowed her. “Is it now?”

“Yes,” she widened her eyes. “Two months ago we were yelling at each other at a party over a napkin,” she derided, and then pulled him from the neck of his shirt, earning a grin from him. “and look at us now,” she chuckled, cupping his cheeks, “looking into each other’s eyes… smiling, blushing,” she bit her lip. “Of course I don’t get it.”

He kissed the edge of her lips. “Seems like we’ve lost too much time fighting.”

She chuckled. “I wouldn’t say it was wasted it’s just… different.”

His hand got to her waist. “That’s why I wanna get to know you.”

“But you do know me,” she insisted.

“I know some things,” he let her go as he threw away the garbage, he paced around as she watched him carefully. “I know how to make you cry, I know how to annoy you, and what music you hate.”

She crossed her arms. “You also know how to make me smile, and yes, you’re annoying but in a nice way, and you know what music I like, Tom.”

“But do I?” He looked up. “I feel like I need to know more, you know?” He clicked his tongue. “Like you always said there’s perfect background music and you always relate songs to people.”

“I do…”she admitted. “See? You know me.”

“Well what song do I remind you of?”

She snickered. “Lots of songs, most of them are very chaotic.”

“Well what song reminds you of us?” He asked.

She looked up, thinking. “… hmm, lately one song in particular,” she finally said after a few seconds.

“Which one?”

She looked away, embarrassed. “But I have to explain the meaning behind it.”

“Of course you have to, y/n,” he laughed. For a moment, he believed her. Maybe he did know her. And he probably expected an old 80’s song, probably rock n’roll, or maybe even older. 60’s? Maybe, probably. It could be The Rolling Stones. Most likely.

“I’m just—I thought about what you said, how we are different when we’re alone,” she said, Tom approached her, caging her as he leaned his hands against the wall.

“Hmhm.”

She tried avoiding his gaze. “And how we have to be careful, which you’ve been the worst at… with that picture?” She rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “Hm, yeah I fucked up.”

“And I hate that,” she continued with a sigh.

He frowned. “What?”

She dug and sneaked out of his grip, “having to hide, you know? Because Jesus how are they going to react?” She exaggerated to add in drama.

“Right,” He bit his lip. So far, Haz, James and Sam had had different reactions. Both of them concerned for y/n’s wellbeing and concerned Tom would fuck up. Of course, that’s not the reaction that worried him. His parents, her parents… And… Harry. How would he tell Harry?

Would he tell him?

“And we’ve been this way since we were kids, like… We can’t even be nice, because they’ll freak out, and we can’t act like enemies because.. Everything is wrong to them!” She continued. “And they were always telling us off and—”

He smiled. “What’s the song y/n?”

“I feel like you’re gonna laugh and make fun of me,” she scrunched her nose.

“Oh, of course, that’s my job,” he teased.

She only paused to look back at him.

“Hey,” he took her hand and pulled her back to him “We might be dating but I’m still your worst enemy so it’s my job to make fun of you but now I get to kiss you after doing that,” he smirked before pecking her lips.

She cleared her throat nervously. “I—I’ll show you the song later…”

“Y/N!”

“Sh, let’s go get something,” and she finally walked into the convenience store.

What Tom didn’t know is the song actually was part of something they’d already lived. This is y/n we’re talking about. There’s a deeper meaning behind everything she does.

She had found the song as an accident, and it brought back too many memories.

Y/N and Tom had kissed. They had shared their first kiss, and now they had ignored each other, you know, As young immature teens do. However, three days had passed. It had felt like an eternity, both of them blushing and rushing to the other side whenever they bumped into each other. But y/n, with all the pain in her heart, needed help for a school project. And of course, after sharing her first kiss with the crush she’d had her whole life, she saw an opportunity. So when her mother had told her she’d go have tea with Nikki, y/n quickly offered to go, too. For her school project, that is.

Tom had seen her and immediately turned red, as soon as she had walked into his room.

“What—what are you doing here, fartface?” He asked, turning away and coughing. He had been dancing in front of the mirror and y/n had caught him.

Tom quickly turned off the music and watched her.

“I need to learn a choreography for a project and I need to film it,” she blurted out.

“You’re a terrible dancer y/n,” Tom said as he walked over to his shelf. Trying to ignore her.

“I know, but you aren’t.”

“Thanks,” he frowned with confusion. “—oh wait no, no, no, no, nononono! No way!” He yelled with realization. “Can you help me out? Please?” She begged, as he rearranged his room.

“Why?” He asked. “You’re gonna be rubbish anyway!”

“Because I need to learn it and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“You already will,” Tom snapped.

“Thomas!” She pinched his arm.

“Oi! Ow!” He complained.

“Please!”

“Fine I’ll—but I don’t want to help you,” he pointed out.

“Why not? I’ll give you anything in return,” she pleaded,

He laughed as he approached her, barely an inch away from her face. “How about another kiss?” He mocked.

She pushed his face away. “Ew anything but that!”

He threw his hands in the air dramatically. “Exactly! We kissed just like two days ago and dancing together? Y/n that would make us a couple!” Tom pointed out.

Y/n was very aware of that. “No, because we hate each other, couples don’t hate each other! And god be helping me learn it and—It’s no big deal!”

“Fine, you’ll—you’ll have to give me all your Halloween candy,” he grinned.

“I’m not going trick or treating. I'm old now,” she pointed out.

“Well seems like you are going to go trick or treating just to give me candy and you’ll have to wear something ridiculous.”

“Tom.” She rolled her eyes.

“Then I won’t help you.”

“Fine.”

“What’s the song?” He asked.

“An old song, 80’s song.”

As they strolled their way through the tiny and messy halls of the convenience store, Tom thought of more questions.

“I know I shouldn’t be asking this,” he cleared his throat.

“Well, don’t if you shouldn’t.”

He gulped. “But… I heard a rumor.”

“Oh,” she chuckled. “ do tell?”

Tom walked his fingers through the candy aisle. “That Tim proposed to you.”

Y/N stayed dangerously quiet. Tom felt sweat through his skin as he watched her. She only stared at some Mike&Ike’s as if that candy would solve her problems.

“Who told you that? Harry?” She finally spoke.

“Harry knows?” Tom frowned.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “So… James.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” she kept pacing through the hall. “Well, but now…” she let a cynical cackle. “Now, I get why you got jealous.”

Tom bit his lip. “But did he?”

She stopped midway and turned to him. “Yes, but why do you want to know?”

“Because if you said no to him when everyone said he was your endgame and so perfect for you—he must’ve done something real bad and I don’t want to do anything of that spectrum,”he confessed.

Y/N bit her lip as she picked up some random candy and headed to the cash register. “Well you’ve fucked up pretty bad and yet I’m still here.”

“Exactly my point, what did he do?” He pushed.

“Nothing… I guess I wasn’t ready,” she answered before paying.

They headed out as she opened up the bag of the bag of SourPatchKids she’d decided at the end. Tom dug his hands in his pockets, as they made their way back to the hotel.

“I would’ve thought you’d be engaged to him,” he commented. “I mean I’m not complaining because I mean we wouldn’t be here if-“

“I know,”she snapped quickly.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have brought it up.”

She stopped again before popping one candy into her mouth, she offered some to Tom and he did the same.

“No I guess,” she closed her eyes before taking a deep breath. “I haven’t really talked about it with anyone.”

Tom frowned. “Not even with Harry?”

“I —No, I dunno it’s different,” she started walking again, jumping from one side of the sidewalk to the other.

“And do you want to tell me?” He asked following behind.

“Dunno,” she turned around to face him but kept walking backwards. “there’s a part of me that still fears telling you anything because you’ll have weapons against me.”

He bit his inner cheeks.

She stopped again. “Don’t take it personal I don’t like… telling things.”

Tom offered her a soft smile. “Ah right. There’s something else I know about you, just remembered,” he chuckled. “you never tell anything to anyone, you always keep everything to yourself.”

She chuckled. “That’s a nice way to call me lonely,” she blurted out before popping more candy in.

Tom stopped her this time. “You’re not lonely.”

“I wasn’t, and I’m not now but—I was for a while,” she admitted as she walked back to his side.

“When?”

She leaned against the wall. “After the yellow flowers…”she answered quietly.

Tom felt like his heart stopped. “Oh.”

“I—well,” she looked up to the sky as if asking for inspiration for what she’d have to confess.l I—I after that happened—“

“I’m sorry,” Tom closed his eyes, and rubbed his face. “If you don’t want to talk—“

“After it happened,” she continued, and she felt a pain in her chest. She hadn’t addressed it, never. She had kept all of this to herself. Tom only stared at her. “I shut everyone out of my life,” she admitted as she looked everywhere but at him. “It was a very dark point in my life,” she turned to him and he was going to explain something but she raised her hand motioning to stop. “Please, don’t say anything I don’t want to discuss, but…”she licked her lips. “I was devastated, and maybe that’s why I fear everything you’re doing right now,” she confessed with pain. “And though it doesn’t feel like last time… I need to have boundaries but….” She cleared her throat. “yeah, I fell into a really dark place, I didn’t talk to anyone,” she scoffed. “less to your family and god knows Sam and Harry were the only people I trusted and I… didn’t have them…” She was nodding to herself. “And then Timmy just appeared you know? He…” she let out a soft snicker. “and he brightened everything up with that smile he has, and with those his curls and green eyes and without me realizing it… he became everything I needed and he slowly took me out of that dark place, he didn’t even know why I was there and he didn’t mind and he just—showed me that everything was perfect as it is,” she smiled to herself. “he—he really was practically crafted for me and he repaired everything you had broken,” she then looked at Tom, who was only gulping and debating what to do with his hands. “I fell in love with him so deeply, even I thought he was my endgame—He might be, even—“she scoffed with disbelief. “But...it seemed too obvious.”

Tom didn’t say anything. She looked away and started walking again, slowly. He followed.

“But I dunno when he proposed I—“she looked down at the candy. “There was a part of me that felt like I just ...loved him because he took me out of that place. You know?” She turned to him but he was staring at the floor. “Because he repaired the broken pieces…. But there I was conflicted because I wanted to say yes, I truly wanted to say yes…but I had to sort my feelings, because I guess—,” she took a deep breath. “It’s easy to love someone when they’re perfect, okay? When it’s soft and light and… Sweet and tender,” she explained, as her hand brushed against his, but she pulled it back. She then paused her walking. Tom had to turn around and watch her again. “What love is… And if you find it, never let it go, what really is difficult is to love someone when you know every little flaw, to love someone at their worst… that’s more powerful you know?” She said, her voice cracked up but she ignored it as she watched him. “And deep down… I knew I had to sort that...because my head…no,” she shook her head. “my heart kept bringing someone back.”

Tom watched her, quietly. Mapping his thoughts, letting her words stay in the air.

She coughed, she knew a tear was coming. “And honestly I never fully tumbled down my walls for him, because I—I just I was so hurt after those flowers.”

Tom felt it, too. The tear, the pain across his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N pursed her lips, as she felt the tears blurry out her sight. “Getting over you is the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with and—“her voice had completely cracked, she sniffed a breath. “I know I shouldn’t have let myself think about you but you were always there—and I truly never—“

He finally rushed over to hug her. She didn’t hug him back as she had covered her face. She was wiping off the tears as he held her, closely. What could he say? That he was sorry? What good would he make now?

She pushed him away and then faked a laugh as she tried to hide the tears. “Ah, no, ignore that, I—I just didn’t cry in the middle of the night in New York,” she gulped and looked away. “No, no, that’s stupid I’m not crying,” she said to herself. But she was wiping out the tears. She never did that.

Tom couldn’t say anything. He tried to speak but no words were coming out.

“We’ve never really talked about it huh,” she said, as he pulled her back into his embrace.

“I—“

“I don’t know if I want to know why you did it,” she admitted, “it’ll only hurt more.”

“I—I didn’t mean to do it,” Tom managed to say.

“Yet you did,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t sleep with her.” That was the first thing he needed to clear out. Though there was still a lot of harm done, he needed to get that off his chest.

She widened her eyes, surprised but still hurt. Eyes still filled with tears begging to come out.

“I didn’t mean any word I said that day, and I—I know I hurt you but I didn’t mean it,” he explained.

“Then what was—“

“I caught myself falling in love with you,” he finally stated. She backed away. “—I—It’s something that I already knew but after Rome… it made it—Real,” he nodded, as he explained it quietly.

She blinked. “You—“

“Yes, y/n, I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

And the words remained in the air. And y/n had to back away, she leaned against the wall, she seemed dizzy as she dropped the bag of SourPatchKids, the candy exploding on the ground.

“What?”

“I am in love with you. Always have been.”

“You’ve been terrible at showing it,” she snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose.

He rushed back to her, taking her hands in his. “I didn’t want anyone to know, because what the hell would they say and—-for the first time I only wanted you to know, for the first time I didn’t want the whole world’s approval, and then—They showed up, and I—I didn’t know what to do and it became too real—“

She seemed angry, confused, sad, happy, and perplexed. “So you—“

“So I was an asshole, because I was stupid enough to care about what everyone else thought instead of what we felt, and—And they all asked me about it and everyone told me that you had feelings for me and—and everyone told me to close that door to you, because everyone—Everyone believed that I was there only to hurt you, and I—I had to shut you off because I couldn’t leave you there hanging, and I didn’t want to hurt you more, and I thought that by hurting you once it would… Be less awful and instead I drove us off the road,” he explained quietly. “But they all—Said it, as if—as if I had planned to hurt you each and every time. They still all believe it. As if I only get you close to hurt you.”

“Perfidy,” she whispered.

“What?”

But then quiet again. She was taking deep breaths. Not saying anything. She hugged herself, listening to him. A sickening silence. Processing what he was telling her..

“I—I was stupid,” he added.

She glared at him.

“And… Well, there’s—something else,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to hurt you but I also didn’t want to hurt-“

“Enough,” she said, placing her finger over his mouth. “I know, I know, just shut your mouth for a second because I—just felt my heart breaking again and,” she shook her head. “Just, back up for a bit. Let me—Process this, and decide if I should believe you and decide how I should feel about this.”

Tom gulped with guilt as he backed away as she told him to. She rubbed her face. At least she’d stopped crying.

He only watched her, as she would nod to herself and then shake her head, all while hugging herself. Protecting herself from Tom.

“It all just—-confirms my theory,” she said after what Tom felt was an eternity. She picked up the now empty bag of SourPatchKids and played with it.

Tom frowned. “What?”

She closed her eyes. “there’s always been a part of me that thinks I know why you did it,” she confessed. “For who—you did it for, and maybe that’s why…” she took out her phone, and then searched in her purse for her earphones. “Maybe that’s why this is our song, and maybe that’s why we don’t want them to know, and why we keep hiding and maybe we’re better alone, with no one around so we can—be this.” She was talking quietly, to herself.

Tom blinked. What the hell was she doing?

“Let me untangle this mess,” she said to herself as she untangled her wired earphones.

“What are you doing?”He questioned.

“Sh, get closer,” she asked and he quickly did, she gave him an earphone and he slowly plugged it in, confused, watching as she scrolled through her music.

“Is that a playlist with my name?” He asked.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. But Tom couldn’t understand what the fuck she was doing.

“I—I will play you the song I told you before, it’s an 80’s song,” she said. “And it’s got more meaning than the one I gave you, and—“

Tom frowned.

“It’s kind of got a very cheerful tone compared to the conversation we just had okay? But I decided I don’t want to cry in the middle of the night in New York over something I spent months crying over.”

Tom reached out to wipe the tear that was falling off her cheek.

“And I want you to forget the conversation for now,” she gulped. “So just listen to this with me”

“What?” Tom let out a chuckle with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Because maybe I’m one of the believers that think that you’ll end up hurting me again,” her voice cracked. “But this time, I want to remember it as something nice. Okay?”

Tom didn’t know how to react, but he placed his hands on her waist.

“And just promise me that if we end up breaking each other’s heart, you will look back at this moment and smile,” she begged him.

He blinked, now it was his time to process it. “play it,” he conceded.

He heard the first notes, a very cheerful 80’s song. And it brought him back to an afternoon, three days after they’d kissed for the first time. I think we’re alone now.

“Wait is it—?” He asked as a smile formed back in his face.

“Yes.”

“Dance with me, then.”

And they did, in the silliest of ways they possibly could, as if not only seconds before the biggest secrets had been revealed. As if their scars weren’t bleeding right now. As if even though there were still people walking down the street, they were alone and nobody was watching. Because the song, in a way and in that moment, was perfectly made for them.

Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doin'

'Cause what would they say? If they ever knew And so we're Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me And we tumble to the ground and then you say I think we're alone now, There doesn't seem to be anyone around

the song

tag list @originalpinkpowerranger @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @organicpurplepants @happywolves81 @nedthegay @skylar-mendes @sentimentalquackson @savannah0111 @spidermansmj14 @soccerstud004 @marinaabernardii @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @tomzfrog @tohollandback @morganhoran1671 @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @everythingbooknerd @xapham @xapham @xxtomxo @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @fufaation15 @healthyassdonut @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @marvelstuck @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @softholand @peterpandco @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @chubby-cheek-calum @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @itstaskeen @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @localfangirlx @xxpeachyxo @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @dangerousluv1 @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @swaggyspiderman @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @calhtlland @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @pxkajesus @unbelievableholland @peterporkpie @justanotherusername80 @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @milly7110 @milly7110 @laurieteddy @rubberducky-jrr @rebekkah4766 @farfromtom @fancyxholland @seaveyheartful @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @dreaming-lia @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06 @sandtopearl @lala-florez @ohfudgeiamgorgeous @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @ @lowkey-love-loki @yoinkyourheart�� @cosmicholland @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @oh-annaa @herondale-snow-carstairs @sip-portteam @farialia @t-holland2080 @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @mysticalinsomniac @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt @hollandstanevans @farfromtom @ohmyquackson @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @unabashedlyhardkitty @xstarbae @tiredfeels @tiredfeels @peterbparkerrwrites @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @abbiefangirls247 @myli-e @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbemineandillbeyours @hotrubycrab @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @kickingn-ames @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @applenter @lovewolfspirit @viagracex @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid @pcterparxer @getthatfireexitdoor

339 notes · View notes