#shoot i nearly forgot the kid! sorry kiddo~

[athela-3]

laughter is (not) the best medicine

1.4k words; gen/comedy; it's 3 am, y'know what this means; fourth wall? what's a fourth wall?; no content warnings.

Kazunari can't talk, can't laugh, can't make a sound for the next few weeks. This is easier said than done, especially with friends as chaotic as his.

“Wait,” Sakuya blinks, ”you mean he can't say anything?”

The Director nods. “Only for a couple weeks. But yes, he can't talk until the doctor gives him the all-clear again.”

For a few seconds, the entire living room falls silent. Five pairs of eyes stare at the Director, then at Kazunari, shuffling his feet next to her, and back again.

“What?” Muku's eyes are round as bottlecaps. “Did—did the doctor find an alien spore nesting in his throat? Is it going to slowly take him over bit by bit until he turns into a green winged monster and take us back to his home planet to—”

No, no, Kazunari shakes his head with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He steps forward and places his hands on Muku's shoulders. I'm fine, he mouths. It's OK, Mukkun! I'll be all right!

Muku blinks, the panic washing off his features gradually replaced with confusion. “Um, Kazu, I don't know what you're saying…”

I'm fine, he mouths again, moving his mouth a bit more exaggeratedly this time. I'm (points at chest) fine (thumbs up), piko (wink)!

“You're… fine?” Muku repeats uncertainly. Kazunari nods, and his roommate sighs in relief. “I'm glad to hear that! Or… not hear. I'm… glad to see that?”

“So there's something wrong with your throat, and the cure is just to shut up for a couple weeks?” Banri, leaning against the far wall, chimes in. “You don't need medicine or anythin'?

Well, this is complex. Just as Kazunari ponders whether he should just answer him over LIME, the Director speaks up for him. “The nodule on his vocal cord doesn't seem to be very severe, so total rest for a few weeks should be enough. Then, when the doctor thinks it's safe, he'll start speech therapy.”

“Speech therapy?” Sakuya echoes.

“He might have to change the way he speaks,” she explains. “The nodule could have been caused by overuse of his voice, or by using it the wrong way. Speech therapy can help identify and fix any bad habits, to prevent something like this from happening again.”

“Oh. I see.” Sakuya turns to Kazunari. “I'm sure you'll do great! We're all rooting for you!”

Tasuku exhales a long, slow breath. “Vocal nodules are always a risk in acting. The God Troupe once put on a play that had a lot of screaming lines. One of the main cast got nodules halfway into the play's run and had to be replaced.”

“How terrible!” Citron exclaims. “It must be very disjointing for them!”

Disjointing? Kazunari almost laughs, but manages to stifle it in time and turns it into a silent grin instead. You mean disappointing, he mouths. Right?

“It must be… what?” Sakuya frowns, puzzled.

“What do joints have to do with anything?” Banri shakes his head.

“Beats me,” mutters Tasuku.

Guys! Kazunari waves his arms in the air, causing the others to face him. He means disappointing! Not joints! Disappointing!

“Elbow?” Muku hazards a guess. “Sad? Sad face? Elb—not elbow? Angry?”

“Oh, he is doing pantomime!” Citron's voice positively drips with excitement. “I want to try as well!” And with that, he starts gesturing wildly, holding an imaginary bowl in his hand and imaginary chopsticks in the other, slurping it, and grabbing at his neck.

It takes all of Kazunari's self-control not to burst out laughing out loud at that very moment. Not that he knows what Citron is trying to act out, but that's unnecessary when the sheer magnitude of the gestures are hilarious enough on their own. Ronron! Stop! You're too funny! I can't laugh right now!

“Soba?” Banri blinks, but Citron waves his hands no.

“Is it udon then?” Muku tries. “Are you choking on udon?”

Well, Citron does seem to be eating some kind of imaginary noodles, which then get stuck in his throst as he swallows—no. Kazunari's eyes widen. What? No way! He grabs Citron's wrist, shaking his head. Ronron, it's a nodule in my throat, not noodles!

“Huh. Whatever it is, it seems like Miyoshi's got the answer,” Tasuku observes.

“If only he can tell us what it is,” bemoans Banri.

But he can! Kazunari slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, thumbs flicking rapidly over the keyboard as he types. Next to him, the Director peers over his shoulder before suddenly emitting a low groan.

“Throat nodule,” she tells the others. “He thinks Citron is referring to his throat ‘noodle’.”

“That is correct! Kazunari, your interpretation skills are almost as good as Tsuzuru's!”

Banri throws his hands in the air, frustrated. “That ain't even the right word! How're we supposed to do charades if ya don't even have the right word?”

“I don't think we could have guessed even if he had,” Sakuya grins sheepishly.

“Pfft. It ain't that hard. Sakuya, you guess.” Banri detaches from the wall, stepping forward to a relatively clear spot in the room. Then, he starts flapping his arms and… making zipping gestures at his mouth? Is that what he's doing? Kazunari isn't sure, but that seems the likeliest interpretation.

“Um… Oh! Are you a chicken?” Sakuya calls out. “A… chicken with a zipped beak?”

“Yes!” Banri points at him, triumphant. “See? He got that first try! I told you, charades ain't hard, you just didn't know what you were doing!”

“Why are we doing charades in the first place?” Tasuku grumbles.

The Director laughs. “Ssh, let the kids have their fun,” she stage-whispers to him, which of course means everyone in the room can hear her completely clearly.

Excuse you! Kazunari's hand flies to his chest in overdramatic affront. We're all adults here! Except for Mukkun, that is. But most of us aren't kids any more!

“Miyoshi.” Neither Tasuku's face nor his voice could get any more deadpan if he tried. “Just type it down. We can't read your lips.”

“I–I'd like to try, though!” Muku raises his hand like a student with a question. “Reading lips sounds fun!”

“I'll try with you!” volunteers Sakuya. “What should I say? Hm… Oh! I know!”

Tasuku sighs, and the Director catches his eye. Ah, what's that? Are Kazunari's eyes tricking him, or did she just mouth something at him?

“Sakuya! Please stop moving your head! I can't read your lips!”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Let me try again!”

“Pfft. He's obviously sayin'—”

“No, no! Banri, you must not tell him! It will behoove the element of challenge!”

“…you mean ‘remove’?”

“Sakuya! Please stop moving your head!”

“Miyoshi? Are you all right?”

Kazunari opens his eyes to find everyone else staring at him with varying looks of concern and immediately slams his eyes shut again. No, no, he waves a dismissive hand at them, I can't look at you or I'll laugh! This is way worse than the hardest “If you laugh, you lose”-type videos he'd ever watched! How is he supposed to stay silent for several weeks if every day is gonna be like this?

He whips out his phone again. This time, instead of typing, he quickly picks out one of his favourite stickers and sends it to the groupchat. There's a brief moment of collective buzzing as it reaches everyone's phones simultaneously.

The Director pulls out her phone and opens the message. Kazunari watches as the corners of her eyes soften, a smile growing on her mouth. Then she steps forward and throws her arm around his shoulders in a side hug, smile breaking out into a grin.

“We love you too, Kazunari,” she tells him softly.

[fruitcoops]

Heyy, if you're still taking prompts I'd love to read #4 & #10 from the Physical Affection list?🥰❤️

Thank you for suggesting this!! I haven’t written a holiday fic yet or much with the Lupin family, but they’re the absolute best. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Prompt 4: A hug after not seeing someone for a long time

Prompt 10: Lifting someone up out of excitement

“Do you see them yet?” Remus asked, standing on his tiptoes even though he was a good three inches taller than most of the airport patrons milling around.

Sirius laughed and squeezed his hand. “Stop it, you’re going to get a crick in your neck.”

Remus rolled his eyes and transitioned to tapping out a random rhythm on the back of Sirius’ hand. “I don’t know why I’m nervous. We turned the oven off, right? The dog is fine?”

“Hattie is safe with Reg and we haven’t used the oven in three days, sweetheart. There is nothing to worry about.” Despite his assurances, butterflies had been building in Sirius’ stomach since that morning; he was excited, but family situations still made him a little anxious.

Remus inhaled sharply. “I see them. They’re by the baggage claim, look.”

Sirius squinted through the throngs of people and followed Remus’ line of sight—sure enough, all three Lupins were watching the suitcases roll past. Julian was bouncing on his toes and tugging on Hope’s sleeve, Sirius noted with a small smile. “Are we going to go over or are we going to stand here until they see us?”

“Until they see us…” A wicked grin spread over Remus’ face. “I have an idea. Be very quiet, okay?”

Over the year and loose change they had been dating, Sirius had learned one undeniable rule: do not doubt Remus Lupin. He stayed very, very quiet as they slipped through the crowd toward the baggage claim.

Hope saw them first, her whole face lighting up. She went to wave to them, only for Remus to press his finger to his lips and point to Julian, who still had his back turned. Her mischief face was frighteningly similar to her oldest son’s as she looked back down and nodded along to whatever Julian was saying.

In two long, silent strides, Remus closed the final distance and grabbed his little brother around the waist, hefting him into the air. “Gotcha!”

Julian shrieked loud enough for several people to turn and look at them. “What the—Remus?!”

“Hey, buddy!” Remus swung him back and forth with a laugh, and the shout of surprise became uncontrollable giggles.

“You scared me!”

“Yeah, that was the whole point.” He was still laughing when he set Julian down, who immediately whirled around and punched him in the side before throwing himself back into his arms for a hug. “Woah, you’re getting big!”

“I missed you, Re,” he mumbled into his neck, squeezing tightly.

Remus’ face softened and he closed his eyes with a low hum. “I missed you too, Jules.”

“Mom said we couldn’t come to your games because I had homework but—hi, Sirius!” A huge smile split his face and he started squirming out of Remus’ hold, accidentally kneeing him in the thigh as he hit the ground again. In a flurry of motion, Sirius found himself with two arms full of an excited ten-year-old.

“Hey, Jules, how’ve you been?”

“You’re getting married?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughed, glancing over at Remus, who was still rubbing his thigh and wincing.

“To my brother?”

“I hope so.”

“You didn’t ask my permission first!”

“He’s the one who proposed!”

Jules gave him a suspicious look. Behind him, his parents were shaking with quiet laughter. “Hmm. Remus?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Did you ask Regulus for his permission?”

“Uh, no.”

“Why not?”

“It didn’t really cross my mind…” he trailed off and looked to Hope and Lyall. “Should I have done that? Isn’t it a little outdated?”

Hope thought for a moment. “Who’s going to figure out Sirius’ dowry?”

“I’m worth at least three cows,” Sirius added, setting Jules down carefully. “Maybe a handful of chickens, too.”

“Well, sh—shoot.” Remus caught himself quickly. “Where am I going to find some of those on short notice?”

“Nice save,” Lyall said drily. “Can you two help us find our bags? These things take forever and I’m looking forward to a shower.”

“Oh, Jules, there’s a surprise for you at home,” Remus said. “I almost forgot about it.”

Jules’ eyes went wide. “What is it?”

“Can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.”

“You’re the worst.”

“No, you.”

“No, you.”

“No, you.”

“Boys,” Hope warned as she hauled a Lions backpack off the conveyor belt and handed it to Jules.

“Sorry,” they chorused. Sirius met her eyes and smiled.

“Hey, Re, will you give me a piggyback ride?” Jules asked as they walked toward the exit.

“You’re a healthy kid.”

“You’re a professional hockey player and my big brother,” Jules reminded him with a dramatic eye roll. “It’s your job.”

“Since when is carting around children part of hockey?” Remus asked even as he bent down, looking up at Sirius. “Babe, did they change the rules?”

“Yep,” Jules piped up before Sirius could answer.

Remus looked at him over his shoulder. “Last I checked, I don’t call you ‘babe’.”

“Ewwww.” Jules wrinkled his nose. “You guys are gross. Hey, do I get my own room?”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of space.” Sirius held the door to the parking lot open and Hope kissed his cheek. “You get to choose.”

“Where’s your room, Re?” Jules adjusted his bulging backpack and Remus grimaced at the weight imbalance.

“Uh, Sirius and I share a room.”

And itchy flush crept up the back of Sirius’ neck as Lyall’s eyes immediately zeroed in on him. Don’t look, don’t look, no eye contact, keep walking. In his periphery, he saw Hope raise her eyebrows at Remus until his cheeks turned pink. “How long has that been happening?” she asked.

“…Six months?” Remus replied weakly as Sirius unlocked the car and popped the trunk. Hope hummed cryptically, but winked at Sirius when he opened her car door for her.

The drive home was loud to say the least; the Lupins hadn’t visited for more than two months due to scheduling conflicts and they had a lot to catch up on, including the engagement. When they finally reached the house, Hope gasped softly. “Oh, it’s lovely.”

“Excellent work,” Lyall agreed, standing back a bit to admire the lights while Remus helped Jules sling his backpack on again. “Looks like a proper home now.”

“Thanks, dad.” Remus led the group up the front stairs and opened the door. “We’re home!”

Puppy claws clattered on the floor as Hattie barreled around the corner, making a beeline for Jules. One day of sticky fingers and he’s her favorite, Sirius mused as they rolled around in a pile of excitement.

Regulus appeared a few seconds later, his footsteps soft and cautious as he leaned on the wall. Sirius raised an eyebrow at him in a silent question—everything okay?—and received a slight nod in response. “Regulus!” Jules practically shouted, untangling himself from Hattie to launch himself at his legs.

“Hey, kiddo.” The baffled acceptance on Regulus’ face while he ruffled Jules’ hair nearly made Sirius laugh aloud. He had come so far since the stiff, unsure hugs at the beginning, but his total shock at the kid’s enthusiasm was just too funny. “How have you been?”

“Is this the surprise?” Jules demanded instead, turning slightly to look at the rest of them.

“Ta-da!” Remus managed, barely biting back a smile.

“A surprise?” Regulus asked. “What?”

“This is the BEST surprise.” Jules squeezed him around the legs and then thundered up the stairs with Hattie hot on his heels, nearly tripping and falling onto his face more than once.

“Do you want some water?” Sirius asked, taking Hope’s suitcase for her as Remus hung their coats in the closet. “Or food, or…anything?”

Why are you being awkward? The little voice in his head screeched. You know them! You’re marrying their son! “Water sounds wonderful,” Hope said. “Is the kitchen in the same place as before?”

His nervous tension eased a bit after that; this was not the first time they had been to the house, and both seemed to think their simple decorations looked nice. Remus slipped his hand into his and knocked their shoulders together. It’s okay, he mouthed as they followed his parents into the kitchen. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The holidays would be happy and relaxing this year, and Sirius would be surrounded by the people he loved. The people who loved him. There was nothing to worry about.

[prey-to-go]

Another hurt/comfort prompt (kinda), if you like: Peter sees the careless, wolflike pred again in normal, everyday life and it brings EVERYTHING back.

 my god- I'm going to end up signing my blog away to you anon ;♡; ))

Things had been going great for Peter. His relationship with Tony had been more defined, the school was going great and May wasn’t as stressed about bills anymore. He wasn’t even bothered when he went out to go grab some bread from the store.

“Alright, bread and eggs.” He says to himself, navigating his way to the bread aisle. He briefly wondered if he should clock in later for an extra shift, he certainly wouldn’t mind spending time with Tony.

“All they’ve got is that wonder bread shit.”

Peter felt all his blood run cold when he heard that voice. He froze mid-step to listen in some more, it couldn’t be the pred...the person just sounded like him. He let a small slightly hysterical laugh out before forcing himself to peek into the aisle.

All the air left his lungs in a rush as he stared at the predator in the isle. He was frozen at the spot, unable to do another but stare.

“That’s what I’m telling ya, just the fucking wonder bread.” The pred growled out. Peter’s mind barely caught up with his body, the next thing he knew he was sprinting down another aisle.

His own footsteps echoed in his ears as he ran. He just needed to hide, he needed to be safe. He only halted when he found a bin of stuffed animals and dove into the bin without much hesitation.

“Tony, I need tony.’ The thought defended any of his other's fears. He needed the demon right now. Tony always made everything alright no matter what the problem was.

His hands felt numb as he fumbled to get his phone, the helpless feeling of being much smaller than he actually was leaving him gasping for air. He managed to get his phone unlocked pausing for a second to wonder when he had started shaking. He shoved the thought aside and focused on dialing Tony.

“Hey kid, I was just about-” Tony kept speaking but all Peter could focus on was the soft rumble of the demon’s voice. It was gruff, warm, and made him feel so safe it was nearly suffocating. A soft sob escaped him and his throat burned like he drank liquid fire.

He numbly took a puff from his inhaler, though it didn’t help with the painful sobs wracking his body. He couldn’t understand how quickly his day went from good to horrible in seconds.

“Kid- Peter, hey hey, where are you? I need you to answer me.”

Oh, that’s right, Tony was trying to talk to him. He let a shaky breath out rubbing his face unconsciously as if that could get the words to come out. All he could manage was a few broken sobs that burned his chest.

“Easy there, it’s alright. I’m coming okay? You just need to tell me where you are.” Tony’s voice rolled over him like a security blanket, heavy and comforting.

“S-store..in..,, M’ hiding.” He chokes out between sobs. Tony was coming for him, so why couldn’t he just stop crying?

He heard a soft sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. A flash of fear struck him, leaving him breathless for a few seconds. Tony wasn’t going to hang up, was he? No no he couldn’t deal with being alone again.

“D-Don’t...please stay.” He sounded hoarse like he had been sobbing for hours instead of minutes, had it just been a few minutes?

There was a brief pause of silence where Peter felt so lost and valuable terrified the demon had already hung up. “I’m still here kid....do you want me to keep talking?”

The relief he felt was overwhelming. Tears clouded his vision making it even harder to see in the dim light of his hiding place. Another sob wrenched itself from him as he managed to nod.

If he thought hard enough the plushness felt like the inside of the demon’s stomach. He pressed his face into the nearest one, taking a shaky breath in as he tried to gain some comfort.

“I’ll be there soon kiddo, alright? Just hang on.”

That was the last clear thing Peter could make out, everything else just seemed to blur together. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed, hours, minutes? It all just blended together and made him dizzy so he just squeezed his eyes and waited.

He was going to shift to get more comfortable when he heard footsteps coming toward his hiding place. Every muscle in his body seized the closer they got. The echoing of what Tony was saying blended together with whatever was coming to him and the haze lifted from his thoughts.

“Mr.Stark?” He whimpers hoarsely. He was greeted by clawed hands sinking into the stuffed animals and almost tenderly curling around him.

“Hey, kid. Tony responds softly.

Peter held back another round of sobbing deciding to just grab onto his savior the second he was out of his plush hiding place. He barely made out being gently shushed just buried his face into Tony’s chest.

The heartbeat steadily thumping lulled his panic making him feel heavy with relief. He wasn’t sure but he could’ve sworn the place got darker and while he couldn’t figure it out the change was welcomed.

A hand ran through his hair briefly and he let a small whine out at the loss of contact even if logically he knew he was still being held. He was so used to being able to fit in the demon’s hands. He wasn’t sure he liked being ‘normal’ height around Tony. It felt a little wrong in an odd way.

“How about we go to the tower and have some hot chocolate or something?” Tony offers. Just the thought of being close to the demon was able to soothe the teen. He didn’t care what they did all Peter wanted was to feel safe again.

“Yeah”

__________________________________________________________

Peter didn’t remember much of being carried into the tower, just Tony reassuring him the whole way as he numbly drifted in and out of the living world.

His stomach swooped when he relaxed that Tony was trying to put him down. He managed to get an undignified whined out before the demon could fully deposit him on the couch.

“What, the couch not good enough?” Tony teases softly. Peter felt a little silly now that he thought about it.

“I- Sorry.” He says quietly, grimacing at how pathetic it sounded. Had he seriously made Tony carry him all the way to the tower, like some sort of overgrown baby?

“Hey, it’s alright kiddo, just teasing you.”

That didn’t stop Peter's cheeks from burning with embarrassment. He missed the frown on the demon's face as he squirmed around. He sighed in victory when he was set down on the couch.

“I...I’m okay..ah thanks, Mr.Stark! You- You didn’t have to carry me here.” He says quickly. Not making eye contact sounded great at the moment- man it was weird seeing the room from a different height.

“Don’t start with that kid, we both know I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Which was true, he knew that Tony would drop anything to come to his rescue. Peter chews his lip not sure how to respond.

Tony always did come to his rescue like he was some type of family member. Maybe it had something to do either being eaten by the genius? He only usually acted this way with the Avengers and Pepper, and they were basically his family.

“Hot chocolate?” He asks weakly. That seemed to be a good subject change sense he heard the demon making a beeline to the kitchen. He still couldn’t bring himself to look Tony in the eyes yet.

How many times was the demon going to have to deal with him breaking down? He was genuinely surprised that Tony hadn’t given up on him yet and found a less fussy snack.

“...I know you’re trying to change the topic, but seriously kid if you ever need anything I'm here for you,” Tony says from the kitchen. Everything about the situation felt oddly domestic, like a comfy family home which made it hard not to relax.

“Well yeah but, like obviously you’re not always going to be here so I need to toughen up.” He shoots back. He hesitantly grabbed a blanket that was hanging on the couch, tugging it around himself.

It smelled like Tony. He blushed and looked away from the blanket to look out the window. He shouldn't be able to pick that smell up so easily, it's not like they were super close..right?

“Who says?” That through Peter for a loop. he had been so focused on not burdening Tony and thinking about what he'd do without the demon he sorta just forgot the now.

“I’m not exactly the kind of guy who gives up kid,” Tony says heading over. The blissful smell of hot chocolate following him. Peter made a point not to look at the demon squeezing his eyes shut when the couch dipped slightly at the weight of the demon.

“Look at me kid.”

It was said gently but was obviously a command, so Peter hesitantly lifted his head up to peer at the demon. A mug was nudged into his hands the warmth soothing his nerves.

Tony looked back at him with such a warm and caring look it made him feel like he was sitting in the sun.

“I care about you and nothing is going to make me stop,” Tony murmurs softly, brushing a stray hair out of Peter’s face.

Peter swallowed thickly before glancing away. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information he had now. Tony actually cared about him? It was obvious but at the same time, it shocked him.

“...Promise?” He finally says looking back at Tony. Relief washed over him when the demon chuckled and nodded.

“I promise.”

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 2

Thank god it was Friday she thought as she dropped the boys at school and Lily at daycare. The weekend was just as hectic but not as much. At least she could breathe a little and get some reading in for depositions.

Gustaf was on her mind at work. That wasn’t going to fly she thought. He couldn’t be on her mind, there was nothing for him to be on her mind about. He simply helped you with your shopping and cleaned your floor she thought. She was blowing it all out of proportion.

With the day done she picked up the kids and headed home. As she stepped off the elevator tired and mentally beat up after a long day she saw a package at the door.

“Bring it inside Brendan.” She said turning the key in the lock and wondered who it was from. She didn’t remember ordering anything.

Lily was asleep against her and the boys rushed past whooping for the weekend. Lily stirred and Sildie wanted to scream at the boys. Instead she ground her teeth together and remained calm. Brendan set the package on the counter and went to his room. He was the quiet one and at twelve grieved differently.

“Brendan?” She called softly as she shut the door and locked it. The kid stopped dead. “I appreciate you helping out. I know it’s difficult, and I know I’m not the best at this, but you helping out. It means a lot and I appreciate it.”

His face lit up with a small smile. Not much made the boy smile now days she thought. He’d taken the role of his father seriously. He was the man of the house.

He helped with Lily, helped with dishes, helped any way he could. She also knew that he would be thirteen in a few months and that would all change with hormones and puberty. God help her she wasn’t cut out for this.

With Lily down and the boys in their rooms for quiet time she stood at the counter and stared at the package. She wasn’t expecting anything. She plucked the card off and opened it.

Sildy,

I hope I spelled that correctly. It was nice meeting you yesterday and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer for tea. I wasn’t late by the way. Dinner was saved. I’m out of town for the next few weeks on business but would love to see you for that tea when I get back.

I hope this makes your next few evenings a little easier.

G

She read it over and over again. No, he hadn’t spelled it right but she found it sweet that he’d even tried. Peeking in the bag she started to pullout jars of pasta sauce, noodles, everything she needed for at least four meals.

There was a sweetness about him, and it touched her so deeply that he would bother with such a gift that she couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped. It had been a rough week, a rough five months, and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Ama, you ok?” Brendan asked coming in for a snack.

“I’ll be ok B. Just a rough week and everything is catching up to me.” She pulled him in for a hug and let the tears fall.

“What’s all this?” He looked at the pasta sauce and stuck his nose in the bag.

“The man next door that helped me yesterday decided to surprise us with all this for dinner.” She said wistfully and smiled wiping the tears away as quickly as they came. They hit her at the oddest times.

“Why?” Brendan asked not quite understanding.

“I think he saw we’d had a rough day yesterday and decided to do something nice.” Was it more than that she wondered?

“Should we ask him over for dinner?” He asked with an enthusiasm that took her by surprise.

“We could but he’s away on business for the next few weeks.” She watched his face fall and she gave him a one armed hug of understanding.

“Oh.” He sounded a little disappointed.

“There’s always a next time kiddo.” She ruffled his hair and pulled him into a rib cracking hug.

“Can I help?”

“You want pasta tonight?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He grinned.

“Ok then master chef, have at it” she smiled and let him get to it. The kid loved to help in the kitchen.

They sat around the table and ate as a family. A dysfunctional one, but a family. Lily was five months old, the boys had semi settled in at school, and she had finally been able to get her career back on track. Juggling four kids and a career was never something she’d planned for.

The next few weeks went by in a furious blur that she forgot about Gustaf. There was too much other shit to contend with. Life had sucked her into its vortex with no consideration of spitting her back out anytime soon.

She came home one evening exhausted and at her wits end to a sticky note on her door that simply said

Tea?

A smile bloomed across her face. He was back and so were the butterflies in her tummy. It’s just tea she reminded herself. It would only ever be tea, she said to herself and took a calming breath.

Maybe once the kids were asleep she could invite him over. She chewed on her bottom lip as she got the kids inside debating with herself, weighing every option.

She wanted to tread carefully, get to know him before introducing him to the kids, just in case. Hollywood Star or not she had to be careful for their sake, careful despite her own personal desire for him to just fuck her blind.

She plucked up the courage and went and knocked on his door. She only hesitated three or four times before actually knocking. There was no answer so she left a sticky note of her own.

After 9pm?

She went inside and got on with the evening routine. If it was meant to happen it would.

With the kids asleep she sat at the table and started on depositions and getting her arguments together for Monday. It was the only time she really got to read and soak it all in. She was so engrossed in what she was doing she almost missed the quiet knock at the door and it startled her back to reality. She looked at the time and it was well after ten.

“Shit!” She whispered and shot out of her seat. Remembering her sticky note on Gustaf’s door she hurried to open it.

He stood in black jeans and a white V neck T shirt and she had to consciously check the groan of arousal that shot to her core. Those collarbones, that neck. Did he realize what that did to a woman? He didn’t have to be in a tux to make her week at the knees.

“Hi. Still up for tea or am I too late?” Knowing it was much later than her note. “I’ll understand if I’m too late, I got held up with work stuff.”

“Hi, no you’re fine, I’m still up working.” She said quietly and chewed her bottom lip, he made her nervous and he knew it. “Come on in.” She could sense it.

She held the door open for him as she stepped inside and had to breathe out slowly to level out her racing heart.

“It’s so quiet.” He chuckled and noticed she was still in her suit from the day at work. The woman never stopped.

She had shucked the jacket and heels but the slightly see through blouse had him nearly groaning. He saw the faint shadow of black lace beneath the cream shirt and wanted to peel it from her. The skirt she was wearing accentuated her hips and thighs and only made him want to touch her. His eyes devoured her since his hands couldn’t.

“Yeah it’s the only quiet time I get.” She said and offered him a seat at the table.

She put the kettle on to boil and started to clear away her work. She had to keep her hands busy and focused off the sexual desire she felt for him.

“Don’t stop or clean on my account. I came to see you not....”

“I have to anyway, attorney client privilege.” She said cutting him off and kept stacking the work at the end of the table. “It’s fine I have to clear it for breakfast anyway.”

“You’re a lawyer?” His eyebrow shot up in surprise. He would never have picked it.

“Civil rights attorney.” She shrugged, not many found that interesting. “It’s a defamation case. Long and tedious. Lots of reading. Lots of writing. Not that interesting.”

“I find it interesting.” He said and he saw the hesitation in her hands. His smile was brief and to himself, I find you interesting is what he was trying to say.

“You’re in for some very dry conversation then.” She said smiling and he chuckled in that low sexy tone that made her melt.

Smart and sexy he thought. He liked a woman with brains and a sharp mind. It made for interesting conversation and above all made him think. He liked a woman that made him think.

She left the stack of papers and turned off the kettle just before it broke into song.

“That’s a lot to juggle with four kids.” He said clearly impressed.

“It’s insane to tell you the truth.” She filled the teapot and picked it up carefully.

“No doubt, I don’t know how you do it.” He watched her as she moved, that lithe body he itched to get his hands on.

“With a shit load of tea and endless patients I don’t have.” She smiled and set the teapot on the table to steep. “Oh and cuss words.” She added laughing. “Lots of cuss words.” She moved back to the kitchen to fetch the teacups. “Usually in my head but they’re there being screamed all the same.”

“And not a lot of sleep I’d imagine.” He saw the shadow of dark circles under her eyes and knew it was more than just a lack of sleep.

“I get about four to six hours a night. That’s considered a sleep in.” She said sitting across from him.

“Sounds like location shoots.” He said with a wince. “Brutal but without the children.” He shrugged. “Most of the time. You sleep when you can.”

She laughed and that was what he was after. If he could make her laugh and be at ease he figured he might be in with a shot.

“So what are you workin on?” She asked as she poured the tea and noticed he wasn’t really comfortable with the question. “Sorry, You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sure you get asked that enough.” She shook her head. He made her on edge and it rattled her to where the awkwardness kicked in and she said stupid shit or whatever her mouth decided to blurt out without her brains permission and redaction first.

“No I’ll tell you.” He smiled. “I’m just amazed.” He said looking at those pretty eyes that had stolen his breath.

“At what?” She asked warily.

“That you clearly know who I am and what I do but I’m just a normal person to you.” He said dumbfounded, he had finally found normal and craved it. Craved it like his next breath.

“Well you are a normal person, with an extraordinary career. You’re my neighbor. A fellow human. Equality regardless of status and station. Sorry that’s the lawyer talking.” She sipped her tea clamming up because she was awkward as fuck around him.

“You’re correct though, lawyer talking or not.” He said and looked at her. He could see she was nervous around him. Sensed the awkwardness. “It’s nice to sit and be normal. Have a normal conversation.”

“You’re a normal person that sends pasta sauce to his neighbor to make her life easier. That’s not the lawyer talking.” She said quietly and gripped her teacup. That night was something special to her and he needed to know that. Acts of kindness went a long way with her. They didn’t have to be big and splashy and showy to prove something. They just needed to be sincere.

“Thanks for that by the way Brendan was in master chef heaven and I didn’t have to think about what would end up on the table for dinner. It was a relatively stress free night.”

His smile told her this sort of thing made him uneasy. He didn’t like compliments when they were personal in nature.

“And I’m embarrassing you.” She said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I’ve not had many people do what you did.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you.” He mumbled and shrugged as he took a sip of his tea. “No big deal.”

She studied him for a moment.

She played with the tea strainer to do something with her fingers and think before speaking.

“You know I had the shittiest day in court that day and came home with cranky kids and I was just exhausted. There by the door was a bag with pasta enough for four meals. You cannot begin to understand what that meant. It may not have been a big deal to you, just groceries, but it was for us.” His gaze found hers now and she felt the hard jolt.

Shit she thought. She was way in over her head with him. She wanted to make something of this but couldn’t. Not with the kids in the other room and she barely knew the guy. But she wanted it. Her body all but screamed for it, for him.

“Brendan started cooking as soon as he saw everything.” She said and dropped her gaze. If she stared at him any longer she would do something that neither of them were ready for and something she’d regret.

“He wanted to invite you over for dinner.” She added and a smile ghosted her lips. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in...” she stopped mid thought and shook her head, that smile falling away.

“Had I been in town I would have gladly had dinner with you and the kids.” He said and could see it made her tense. He left the kids smile out of it as it clearly was something she’d let slip. Time, he thought. She needed time to process whatever it was going on in her life.

“If that’s something you want to do at a later date I’m ok with it, I understand if you don’t.”

“It’s complicated.” She said.

“I figured it would be.” He nodded and gave her a smile that said he understood. “When the time is right, I’d like to meet them. They seem like great kids.”

Her head shot up and looked at him. There it is he thought. Mother bear protecting her cubs. Too soon you fucking idiot he cursed himself. Too fucking soon to go there. He saw the lawyer surface and decided that he would leave it alone for the moment.

“We’ll have to see. It’s complicated.” She said again and wanted to talk about anything but that. He nodded and left it alone.

They talked for a few hours about his work, hers, and when he could see she was nearly asleep at the table he thought it was time to go even though he didn’t want to. They hadn’t touched on why she was a single parent and although he wanted to ask he didn’t. It wasn’t his business unless she wanted to make it his business. He respected that, and he was sure not many did.

“Can I ask you something.” He said as she stood in the partially closed doorway.

“Sure.” She said softly and felt her body tingle at how close he was to her. She could smell the scent of him and tried to breathe it in without having it known that was exactly what she was doing. She wanted him to just kiss her and put her out of her misery.

“Can we make this a weekly thing? When I’m in town?” His fingers fidgeted at his side until the urge was too great and he stuffed them in his pockets to keep himself in check.

Her smile lit up his world. “I’d like that.” She said softly.

“I’ll try and make it at nine next time.” He said and felt the urge to kiss her. He banked that feeling. Not yet.

“No problem.”

“Night Sildie. And oh did I spell it correctly?” He asked as he walked to his door. “In the note?”

She chuckled. “No but that’s ok.”

“How do you spell it?” He stopped and turned to look at her.

“Sildie.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” She only just heard it fall from his lips. “Night Sildie get some sleep.” He said opening his door and only glancing at her sideways to not risk making it too awkward by looking straight at her.

“You too.” She said and closed her door.

Leaning her forehead in the door she couldn’t stop the grin. She was sure he liked her but was stepping carefully because of the kids. She appreciated that. They had to be ok with it too, and that was a whole other clusterfuck she wasn’t ready to deal with.

But she was getting way ahead of herself. Even if it was just a friendship at least she could still see him and then fantasize later. For the first time in six months she felt happy to have moved back home to Sweden.

He’d have to take a cold shower before bed or do the deed himself. Damn he thought as he leaned back against his front door. The woman was stunning, smart, and those eyes he thought. Ice blue, so pale, yet so incredibly beautiful. If he stared into them too much he’d go under.

It was her mind that amazed him. She was wicked smart to get where she was. After ten years in the USA, four years in England, she had landed back home and into one of the top firms in the country. That and raising four kids on her own was mind blowing.

It also screamed don’t fuck with me without her actually having to say it. She wasn’t one for bullshit, much like himself. He’d picked that up the first day he’d met her. She had tolerance and patience but don’t push it and don’t fuck with her or the kids. She didn’t have to say it, it was implied as you walked in her home.

He had to let her lead for the moment. She had way more to lose than he did.

[tonystarkstan]

you’re still young (that’s not your fault)

Summary: Being a superhero? Hard. Being a superhero in high school? Harder. Luckily, he’s got Iron Man on his side.

or, five times Tony goes to Peter’s school and one time Peter goes with him to work.

Note: This is posted on my AO3, but it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, so I thought I’d share it here! I hope you guys like it.

“So like, the issue is that I like learning and I need to go to school to get a good education in order to be qualified for an actual career,” Peter tells Ned as they stand at their lockers.

“How is that an issue?” Ned asks in confusion.

Peter sighs dramatically. “I hate school,” he says, as if that explains everything.

Ned nods sympathetically. “Makes sense. Oh, the joys of social hierarchy. Also, I forgot the solubility rules, so I totally bombed that part of the quiz today. Which means I’m probably going to fail, which means I’ll be kicked out of school, which means I’ll have to work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life and live off of a minimum wage salary.”

Peter pats his back consolingly. “You and me both, man. School just proves what we already knew: the world is conspiring against us.”

Ned scoffs. “Okay, but at least you have Spider-Man,” he points out, saying the name quietly so no one overhears.

Peter gives him a weird look. “Oh yeah, loved getting bitten by a fucking radioactive spider. It was like getting a kiss from Mother Nature.”

Ned shrugs. “Who cares? You’re staying with Tony freaking Stark. How is that, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s great!” he says enthusiastically. “The man has, like, zero parenting skills, so I get to eat whatever I want, and we just stay in his lab all night.”

“Dude, your life is so not real,” Ned says incredulously. “Have you heard from May?”

“Yeah, she said she’ll probably be home this weekend. I think she feels bad, but her work really needed extra hands with the hurricane relief, so it’s fine.”

“Gotcha. Hey, what do you – whoa!” Ned exclaims. “What’s going on?”

As they turn the corner, as large mass of students clogs the hall, all trying to peer over each other to get a look at whatever’s caught their attention. Before Ned and Peter can get any closer, though, the crowd parts down the middle by a seemingly invisible force.

That is, until Tony Stark steps through.

As usual, he’s wearing a three-piece suit, his trademark sunglasses, and in his hands is – what the fuck? – a Spider-Man lunchbox.

Tony’s eyes lands on the pair of them, and he casually makes his way over to them, as if Iron Man walking through a high school is normal.

“Hey, Pete! I was just looking for you,” he informs Peter.

“Hi, uh, Mr. Stark. Um. Hi. What are you, uh, doing here?” he asks, trying to ignore all the blatant stares that are now focused on them.

“What? A billionaire can’t just come by to see his favorite mentee?” He’s smirking though, and Peter knows the superhero is taking great pleasure out of embarrassing him.

“No,” he retorts flatly.

Tony puts his hand on his chest dramatically. “Oh, how you wound me. Betrayed! By one of my very own! What ever did I do to deserve such treatment?”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter mutters. “What do you want? Ned and I were just about to head to lunch.”

“Ah ha! And that is where I come in. I am, as usual, here to save the day.”

Peter raises an eyebrow and gives him an unimpressed look. Tony huffs. “Sheesh, tough crowd to please, apparently.” He holds out the lunchbox. “Lunch. You left your’s.”

Peter thinks back, suddenly remembering that oh yeah, he definitely did leave his lunch on the counter. However, it’d been in his old Star Wars lunchbox that he’d had as long as he could remember.

Noticing his look, Tony gestures to the bag. “I took the liberty of getting you an upgrade. We all know how much you like Spider-Man.”

Yup, I’m definitely filling his Iron Man helmet with ramen noodles now.

“Wow. Thanks,” he says, sounding anything but. He takes the bag gingerly. “Now I won’t starve. A true hero you are. Really living up to your name.”

Tony pretends to blush. “You’re too kind. I’m just here as a completely selfless act of service.”

“Sure. So, can you, like, leave?” Peter says impatiently.

Tony shoots him an affronted look. “Well, I know when I’m not welcome. Which, let’s be honest, never actually happens because I’m a famous genius billionaire. But I really do have to get going.”

“Oh, thank god,” Peter breathes. Tony laughs and ruffles the kid’s hair, knowing it’s all in jest.

“See ya later, kid.” He turns to Ned. “And you – be sure he actually eats it.” Ned looks like he’s about to faint. And with that, Tony turns on his heel and struts out, leaving behind a bunch of astonished high schoolers. Peter’s pretty sure Flash’s jaw is about to hit the floor.

After a second of stunned silence, Ned looks over at Peter and smirks. “What was it you were saying earlier about ‘zero parenting skills’?”

Peter groans. “Shut up.”

Ned’s laughter is drowned out by the mass of students headed excitedly in their direction.

-

“Dude, you look like shit,” is how Ned greets him.

Peter doesn’t even have the energy to be offended. He certainly feels like shit, flashes of hot and cold racing through his body and forehead beading with sweat.

“It’s fine, we’re fine,” Peter says, not at all reassuringly.

“Yeah, okay,” Ned scoffs. “Why are you even here?”

Peter sags against his locker tiredly. “We’re supposed to be going over Shell integration and the Trapezoidal rule in calc today. I can’t afford to miss it. Also, we have decathlon practice after school today and MJ will kill me if I miss it. Again.”

He startles when a light slap meets the back of his head.

“Speak for yourself, loser. We don’t want your disease,” MJ says from behind him.

“Sorry, May raised me to always share,” Peter jokes. “Anywho, it’s too late for me to go home now. May’s already left for work. What a shame.”

MJ just rolls his eyes but Ned tosses him a doubtful look.

“Come on!” Peter protests. “Seriously, I don’t even feel that bad!”

Three class periods later, Peter’s more than ready to retract his earlier statement. He definitely feels that bad.

He’s in the middle of Anatomy class, and he can’t, for the life of him, keep his head up. His muscles are aching just with the small bit of effort it’s taking to use an arm to prop his head up, and he’s so, so hot but can’t seem to stop quivering.

At this point, he’s completely tuned out the teacher, entirely focused on trying to keep himself from throwing up in the middle of class because God knows Flash would never let him live that down.

His phone buzzes.

Chair Guy: dude

Chair Guy: you look like an actual zombie

Peter groans internally.

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: thanks.

Chair Guy: hey I have a great idea bc im a genius who goes to a smart kid school!!!!

Chair Guy: go :) home :)

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: no :)

Peter quickly puts his phone away, and he sees Ned shake his head in exasperation. The rest of the class passes by in a cloudy haze of sickness, and he blinks up blearily when a shadowy figure stands in front of him.

“Peter. Peter! Yo. Dude, come on, class is over. Even Dr. Arrington has left,” Ned informs him.

Peter groans, tossing an arm over his eyes with the thought that maybe if he doesn’t look at Ned, he’ll just go away.

No such luck. “Peter, if you don’t get up, I’m calling May.”

Immediately, Peter’s head shoots up, and he winces as the dull throb in his head intensifies.

“You can’t! She’s at work, her phone’s off anyway because she’s not allowed to be on it. Plus, I still have Calc! And Decathlon!” he protests, but even he can hear how weak it sounds.

Ned just rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure at this point, MJ would kick your ass if you showed up to practice. Go home and we’ll all send you a ‘Thank You’ card.”

Peter swats at him weakly.

“Peter, seriously. We gotta go,” Ned says, hoisting Peter’s bookbag onto his back. “Think you can get up?”

The vigilante stares at him blankly. Ned sighs.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles to himself. “We are not fucking doing this.” Louder, he says, “Peter, give me your phone.”

The exhausted teen tiredly reaches into his pocket, groaning at how heavy an achy his arms are. He hands his friend the phone. If he were more aware of what’s going on, he ‘d be much more suspicious. However, at the moment, Peter wants nothing more than for his friend to stop talking so the pounding in his head will cease.

“Thank you. Stay here for a second,” Ned tells him, and Peter doesn’t even question it. Not like he could move even if he wanted to.

Maybe I can Uber to my Spanish class, his feverish brain thinks.

He’s not actually sure how long he drifts in and out of clarity, but at some point, he opens his eyes to feel a gentle hand carding its way through his hair, and he instinctively leans in towards it.

“Hey, Pete,” a soft voice says. It’s a nice voice, Peter thinks. Not too rough, but just enough gravel in it to create a low comforting sound. And it’s… vaguely familiar.

Peter lowers his eyebrows in confusion and wills his eyes to open – when did he even close them? – so he can see the owner of the familiar voice.

“There we go. He’s alive! A true miracle.”

Peter nearly closes his eyes again, because obviously he’s still dreaming. There is no way that Tony freaking Stark is kneeling in front of him, stroking his hair, and gently coaxing him awake. Not possible.

“Yeah, it’s me, kiddo,” Tony says, obviously reading the surprise on his face. “To be fair, I’m probably just as surprised at this development as you are, but your friend Ted, here –“ he gestures to said teen who offers nothing more than a shrug “ –called Happy saying that you’re dying, and we just happened to be in the area, and I also happen to be a superhero. So.”

Unreal, Peter thinks, and closes his eyes, ready to let unconsciousness swallow him whole.

“Ah ah – no. Nap time for the spider baby later,” Tony jokes, but Peter cracks his eyes open to see the worry lining his mentor’s face. “I say we blow this popsicle stand.”

Peter nearly sags with relief at how good that sounds. He’d do just about anything to sleep. But then he remembers why he’d been so determined not to stay home in the first place.

“I can’t!” he protests, finally speaking up. “Calc. Integration.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief, and then turns to Ned, who’s still watching the exchange with a look of awe.

“Did he just say what I think he just said?” he asks incredulously.

Ned just gives him a long-suffering look and nods. “Yeah. He’s dumb.”

Tony scoffs. “That’s an overstatement,” he grumbles under his breath. Louder, he says, “Peter, you do realize that you’re literally talking to a genius, right? An actual engineer who literally built a flying suit? And the arc reactor? I think I can teach you some damn calculus. Goodness gracious.”

Peter just blinks at him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Tony repeats, but he can’t help surge of utter fondness that rushes through him at the sight of the tired kid, still pressing into the hand in his hair.

“Come on. Happy’s waiting for us. I’ve never actually dealt with a sick – anything – before, so this’ll be a great learning experience for the both of us,” Tony says conversationally. He gets up, groaning at the ache in his knees, and takes Peter’s bag from Ned.

Peter immediately lets out a whine at the loss of contact. The noise strikes a chord deep within Tony, and he tries not to think too hard about it.

“Sorry, kid. Come on, up you go,” he encourages, hoisting the kid to his feet. Peter sways tiredly on his feet, and Tony is quick to steady him.

“Whoa, I got you,” Tony soothes. He runs a quick hand over the kid’s forehead and lets out a low whistle at the heat that meets his hand. “Sleep. You need lots of it. So do I, actually. What do you say we get to Happy before the evil man makes us walk?”

Peter smiles weakly and nods, stumbling beside his mentor, thoughts going blurry again as they make their way to the front of the school.

As promised, Happy is waiting for them, and it takes a little while longer to wrestle the kid’s lanky limbs into the car and across the backseat. Again, Peter lets out a whimper at the loss of contact, and Tony coughs to cover the soft smile that’s threatening to appear as he slides in next to the teen.

And if his hands end up back in Peter’s hair?

Well, no one ever has to know.

-

It was a stupid argument, if you could even call it that. Really, it was just Flash being a dumbass, as usual. Which, usually is a thing that Peter can handle – is used to handling – but today is just not one of those days.

Patrol last night had been rough, more mentally taxing than usual. Peter’s not exactly sure what about it made it so, but it left him wired up with an anxiety that followed him into sleep, prompting unwelcome nightmares and flashbacks of a variety he hadn’t experienced in a while.

Truth be told, he knows it’s kind of his own fault. He’s been overworking himself, staying out longer and longer as Spider-Man, coming back by May’s curfew only to sneak out hours later when he hears her breathing even out.

Then he comes back and works on homework and studying, getting a mere two or three hours of fitful sleep, surviving mostly on coffee and pure, stubborn willpower throughout the day. This all does nothing to calm the ever-growing wave of anxiety.

So, to be fair, this was probably a long time coming.

Flash just happened to be the catalyst.

Peter and Ned sat in their usual spot in the cafeteria, Peter comparing his homework answers with Ned’s. When Flash walks up, Peter immediately tenses, already preparing himself for an onslaught of insults.

(And how stupid is that? He’s Spider-Man and yet he’s reduced to nothing at the mercy of a stupid high school bully.)

“Hey, Penis! Ready to get your ass beat in the science fair this weekend?” Flash mocks. And to be honest, Peter finished his project weeks ago in the confines of Tony’s lab, analyzing how robotics can be used to enhance prosthetics and make them more effective and efficient.

And, at this point, he’s so tired, he doesn’t actually care who wins. He never did, really.

“Isn’t ‘Penis’ a little old by now? Surely you can be more inventive than that,” Peter taunts. And yeah, maybe not his smartest move ever, but whatever.

Flash flounders for a second, unsure of how to respond, before his face clears again. “I could, but this one suits you best. It’s kind of iconic, don’t you think?”

“Hey, Flash, you know what’s funny?” Ned steps in suddenly, and Peter groans. “How Peter’s smart enough to land an internship with Stark Industries, and you haven’t even heard back yet.”

Flash flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, and how much do you suppose your little sidekick has to pay just to polish Tony Stark’s shoes? You know, there’s actually been speculation that there’s a something a little more – should we say? – kinky going on there,” Flash says with a suggestive smirk, and Peter immediately sees red at the very implication of his hero doing something like that.

“Shut the fuck up, Flash,” Peter snarls angrily, and Flash narrows his eyes at him coldly.

“What was that, Penis?”

Peter stands up, well and truly angry now. “I said ‘Shut up.’ You don’t know anything about him. And I’m sorry you couldn’t get an internship with him when I could, but I guess Stark Industries knows talent when it – “

A sudden flash of cold and wet leaves Peter sputtering. He barely registers the fact that Flash is standing in front of him, the cup in his hand totally empty, because the wave of anxiety that’s been building up the last few days decides then and there to pull Peter under.

No longer is he in his high school cafeteria. No, he’s back in the lake, alone and tangled and trying so hard to break free of his confines. The water is cold, seeps straight to his very bones, and against his will, his lungs take a desperate breath in, but all he gets is more water.

He can’t fucking breathe.

God, what if he dies like this? Just a useless body floating on a lake, and maybe it’ll be days before he’s found, and May – oh god, May! – will be left completely alone to deal with another bout of grieving.

And Peter – god, he doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready to do that yet, he’s supposed to graduate and watch the next Star Wars movie release with Ned and there are so many more people he needs to save, and also he’s just plain scared.

If only he could breathe.

“Peter!”

The unexpected and familiar voice shocks him, and he flails towards it, hoping it’ll bring him closer to the surface.

“I’m right here, bud, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” the voice tells him, and it sounds so convincing and real and soothing that he tries with everything in him to believe it.

“Hey, it’s me – Tony. I’m right next to you, and we’re both in your crappy school cafeteria,” the voice – Tony – informs him, and Peter frowns in confusion because Tony shouldn’t be here, he’s going to drown, too.

“Tony,” he gasps, hands finding purchase in warm fabric. Dry. It’s dry! But – what?

“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me. Open your eyes and look at me. It’s okay, I promise,” Tony coaxes him. And because he’s never had a reason not to trust him mentor, Peter cracks his eyes open, immediately cringing at the water that drips into his eyes.

“That’s it, good job,” Tony encourages, and Peter tries to let the sight of his mentor drown out the feel of water burning his nose.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks in a small voice. “W-what? I-I don’t – “

“Shhh, it’s all fine. You’re at school. You had a pretty bad panic attack. Your aunt wasn’t picking up, so they called me,” Tony explains. Peter takes in everything around him, drinking in the sight of the now completely empty cafeteria, save for him and Tony.

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean – I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, cheeks flushing red with shame. Tony gives him an incredulous look.

“Peter,” he says gently, reaching out to tilt the boy’s face up. “Look at me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never have to apologize for something like this.” Tony’s gaze darkens suddenly. “The only person who should be apologizing for anything is the childish, cruel, immature bully who did this to you.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest. “No – it wasn’t his fault! He didn’t know that would happen.”

“And that makes it okay?” Tony scoffs. “No, kid. That’s all on him.”

Peter stays silent, not willing to admit the man is right, as usual. Tony studies him for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks the teen.

“Fine,” Peter lies instinctively. Tony just raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. That – that wasn’t supposed to happen. Usually I have it under control,” he says, looking frustrated.

“It?” Tony prompts.

Peter tugs anxiously on his shoelace. “I guess sometimes I still think about the lake? Because I was tangled and stuck and it was – “ He cuts off, throat closing abruptly. Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.

“Scary,” Tony finishes for him. Peter just looks down. Tony sighs again, looking more tired than ever. “Pete, you gotta keep me in the loop with these things. And if not me, then May or Ned or someone you trust. It’s okay to feel like this. Hell, I’m scared all the damn time.”

Peter looks surprised at the confession. “What?”

Tony laughs bitterly. “How do you think I became Iron Man in the first place? It was because I’m scared. My suit? It literally just started out as a physical manifestation of my anxiety.”

“Does it get better?” Peter asks, and he looks so small in this moment that Tony’s heart cracks right down the middle.

Tony hesitates before answering. “Yeah, kid. It does. But it takes a while, and it might not ever go completely away. You just have to communicate with us. Think you can do that?” Tony asks, looking Peter straight in the eye.

Peter swallows thickly and nods. “Yeah.”

Tony looks intently at him for another moment and then nods in satisfaction. He moves to get up and groans. “Fantastic. I think all that emotion just gave me heartburn,” he complains, rubbing his chest dramatically.

Peter smiles, the somber atmosphere broken. “Or maybe you’re just old,” he jokes.

Tony pretends to look offended. “Rude. Offensive. You owe me one whole compliment for that.”

“Nope,” Peter says. Tony nudges him gently.

“Oh, come on. No nice things to say about your favorite superhero?”

“Who said you’re my favorite superhero?” Peter smirks deviously.

Tony’s eyes widen in mock hurt as Peter gets up and starts to walk out without him. “Two compliments! Now you owe me two!” Tony calls as he walks after him.

And Peter’s answering laugh? Totally worth it.

-

First of all, the fact that aliens decided to attack New York City during school hours? Rude.

Which is Peter’s first thought when Tony calls him right before his fourth class of the day. It goes a little something like this:

“Kid. We’ve got aliens attacking New York – again, don’t they ever learn? – and it’s all hands on deck,” Tony informs him.

Immediately, Peter lights up with excitement, already feeling the first shots of adrenaline at even the thought of fighting with the Avengers again.

“Yes, of course!” he gasps excitedly, making a beeline for his locker to grab his suit.

“Great, meet us at – “

“Hey, loser,” MJ greets, not caring that Peter’s on the phone. “Where are your safety glasses? You need them for lab today.”

“Shit,” Peter mutters, feeling his heart drop to his feet, because normally, hell yeah, he’d skip class to go fight with the freaking Avengers! Except today’s lab counts as one of three big exam grades and he literally cannot miss it.

“What was that?” Tony asks, sounding preoccupied.

“Uh, Mr. Stark? Can the emergency wait, like, an hour?” Peter stammers. Immediately Tony’s full attention goes back to the teen.

“What?” he demands sharply. “Why?” There’s a pause in which Peter is more than reluctant to answer, but Tony catches on quickly and groans. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Let me guess: Spanish test?”

“Chem lab,” Peter mumbles. He can practically hear Tony rolling his eyes.

“Kid, you can make it up. New York needs you right now,” Tony says matter-of-factly.

“But, Mr. Stark! I won’t be able to make this up, she said the only way we can miss it is if we’re in the hospital dying or it’s an extreme emergency,” Peter protests.

“So aliens aren’t an emergency now?” Tony deadpans.

“I mean, yeah, but I can’t exactly go up to her and say that I need to leave for something like that!” Peter says delicately, conscious of MJ standing nearby with a bored expression. “Anywho, I’ll be there in like an hour tops, I promise,” he says quickly before hanging up, and oh boy, he’s going to get an earful for that later.

Immediately, his phone starts buzzing again but he stuffs it in his bookbag hastily. MJ gives him a weird look.

“Your boss is fucking weird,” she comments.

“Tell me about it,” Peter mutters as they walk into class.

They sit down at one of the lab benches and wait for their teacher to start giving them instructions. Today’s lab is the Synthesis of Aspirin, and yeah, nothing they’ve done so far is nearly as cool or advanced as his web fluid or the stuff he makes in Tony’s lab, but he’s still excited. And nervous. Because he really needs a good grade on this.

Once instructions are given, Peter and MJ start methodically setting up lab equipment. Peter’s getting the hot water bath ready while MJ measures out the salicylic acid when a sudden hush falls over the room.

Curious, Peter and MJ both look up to see what’s going on and Peter immediately wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

Tony is standing in the doorway.

He strolls in with calm strides and a casual confidence and walks right up to the teacher.

“Hello, Dr. Mead. I’m terribly sorry, but we need to take Peter out of class. There’s an emergency at Stark Industries, and it’s sort of all hands on deck. He’s our best intern, after all,” he says charmingly.

She looks flustered in a way that Peter never imagined he would ever see of his usually very collected teacher.

“Um, I understand, but this lab is an exam. Is there any way it can wait after?” she asks hopefully, and honestly, Peter admires her for not just immediately caving into him.

Then Tony takes off his trademark sunglasses and looks at her with such a stern look that Peter immediately resolves to buy her the best teacher appreciation gift ever.

“I’m afraid not. This is a matter of utmost importance. Surely you have make-up labs?” he asks in such a way that implies the only correct answer is yes.

Dr. Mead opens her mouth as if to protest before finally just settling on saying nothing at all, before turning to the back of the class, where Peter is resisting the urge to hide under the lab bench.

“Mr. Parker, you may be excused. We can discuss make-up times later,” she announces, and Tony smirks, triumphant.

Peter’s face burns with embarrassment as he grabs his bag and walks out the room, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

Tony ruffles his hair, and Peter swats at it in mock irritation.

“Was that all really necessary?” Peter demands when they’re alone in the hall. Tony shrugs.

“Nah. But then you hung up on me, and I’m petty,” he says. “But actually, I was already on my way to come get you. Cap, Nat, and Rhodes have got the situation contained, but they could really use some help, and we’re the only ones around.”

Peter, now that he’s not so worried about his grade, perks up with excitement again. “Man, this is so exciting!”

Tony gives him a fond look. Only Peter would find an alien attack exciting.

“Sure, kid. Now let’s go kick some alien ass.”

-

At first, there’s nothing to indicate why Peter’s spidey sense is suddenly going off like a blaring alarm.

His whole body is seizing with panic, everything in him screaming danger! But he strains his ears to listen for anything out of the ordinary and turns up empty, so he just shrugs and chalks it up to his anxiety going into overdrive.

Later on, he’ll hate himself for it.

Not even five minutes later, deep he hears it, clear as day: the crack of a bullet, one after another.

He shoots up in his desk, on high alert, and everyone around him starts looking around in confusion, not really comprehending the noise. For a second, he’s right along with them, not quite willing to believe that he’s hearing what he’s hearing, because no fucking way is this happening right now.

Then he hears the scream.

It cuts through the haze of the confusion that had clouded the room, and immediately Mr. Johnson runs to the door, knocking off the lights and covering the door window, and everyone is pushing to the back of the room.

Peter takes the moment of chaos to grab his suit out of his bag, and quietly slips out the other window, hoping that everyone was too preoccupied to notice.

“Hello, Peter,” Karen greets pleasantly.

“Karen!” Peter says urgently. “Call 911 and tell them there’s a shooter at Midtown. Contact Mr. Stark. Activate Stealth Mode.”

“Got it,” she says, and then a silence follows wherein Peter assumes she’s following his directions.

Without further pause, Peter quickly follows the sounds of students screaming and gunshots, praying and praying that no one’s bit hit.

“Peter,” Karen says, “Mr. Stark says to stay put; he and some of the crew are on the way, and so are the police. You are not to engage with the shooter.”

All it takes is another piercing scream for Peter to decide that’s definitely not what he’s going to do. He can hear students near the exits evacuating, but as he goes deeper into the school, it becomes eerily quiet. He tries not to focus on the hundreds of heartbeats skyrocketing in fear.

He rounds a corner and finds a student curled up under a water fountain, shaking and crying. She jumps and whimpers in fear when he enters her line of sight, eyes flooding with relief when she realizes who he is.

“Sp-Spider-Man,” she gasps, tears streaming down her face. He quickly shushes her, not wanting to draw any attention to them in case the intruder is nearby.

She shakes her head insistently. “H-He already c-came by. He’s at-at the classrooms b-by the audi-auditorium.”

Peter nods in determination. “I’ll take care of it. You need to stay hidden. If other people start running, join them. Stay quiet. You’re doing so good.”

And fuck, Peter doesn’t even know if that’s the right advice, because this is so much different than anything he’s ever dealt with before. These are his classmates – his friends – who’s lives are being threatened.

As he nears the auditorium, everything seems more still and foreboding, and he can hear a single set of footsteps walking calmly across the floor. Peter leaps up to the ceiling and rounds another corner.

He nearly falls back down at the sight that meets him.

The first door to his right his open, a body lay strewn in the doorway, and something in Peter’s brain shuts down, absolutely refuses to acknowledge the reality of the sight before his, refuses to go into the room in fear of what else he might find.

He hears gasps and soft sobs, but he pushes it all away and lets his gaze zero in on the figure at the end of the hall, gun raised towards another classroom.

The sound of the bullet, this time, is deafening, and Peter wastes no time before crawling until he’s just above the figure.

In the blink of an eye, Peter’s on top of him, wrestling the gun out of his grip and punching the guy with a ferocity that’s unfamiliar. He hits. And hits and hits and hits, because this guy attacked the wrong fucking school and those are Peter’s friends.

Peter sees red, flashes of anger and blood and oh god his friends, are they okay? And it hits him, suddenly, the gravity of everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes, the way his school will never be the same because of one person’s decision.

“Spider-Man, stand down,” a voice cuts through the haze, but he ignores it in favor of tossing another punch, but before he can, a metal hand wraps itself around his wrist.

“No!” he snarls. “This one deserves it!” He fights against the arms that wrap around his waist, thrashing against the hold.

“Kid. It’s me, Tony. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of him, you’ve done great. Your job here is done.”

With those words, Peter sags against his mentor, allowing the hard armor to support him and the weight of everything to sink in.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony says, gently picking the young hero up and letting the police come in and take over. No one even bothers to question him. It’s common knowledge that Spider-Man and Iron Man are close, and no one is willing to get him in trouble for beating the shit out of someone who deserved it.

Tony cradles the kid’s head to his chest, no longer caring who sees, only focusing on getting Peter out of there. Steve, Sam, and Natasha can handle the rest, he figures. There are cops everywhere, and scared students are being rushed out in a line to meet desperate parents waiting for them outside.

Happy is waiting for them, and Tony has never been more grateful for his status as Iron Man than now; no one tries to stop him.

Tony quickly deactivates his suit and gets the kid in, settling them both into the back seat, and Happy wastes no time trying to push his car through the crowd, glancing back at the duo with deep worry etched into his features.

Peter hasn’t said a word, and they’re halfway back to the Tower, where May is meeting them, when the teen starts shaking violently, clinging to Tony.

“Oh god,” Peter sobs, pulling his mask off, and Tony absolutely breaks at the raw terror and grief on the kid’s face as the weight of what’s happened hits him. “Tony,” he gasps, pulling his mentor closer.

Tony wraps his arms around the kid, hugging him with an unprecedented fervor. “Shhh, it’s okay now. I’m right here.”

But Peter’s hyperventilating now, tears soaking the man’s shirt. “I-I couldn’t – I was too late. I think – I think – Tony, I saw – “ and he doesn’t get past that, because he can’t. He can’t make the words push past his lips.

If he doesn’t say them, maybe they won’t be true.

Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into Tony’s chest, crying violently.

And Tony? Tony doesn’t know what else to do other than murmur soft words of comfort that he knows are falling on deaf ears. So he settles back in his seat, Peter practically in his lap, and runs his fingers soothingly through the kid’s hair. It’s going to be a long road to recovery, he knows.

But he’s in this for the long haul.

-

“No.”

Tony stands against his desk, arms crossed and sending a flat look to Pepper, who’s looking at him with an equally determined expression on his face.

“Tony, come on,” she says in exasperation. “He’d be thrilled, and if nothing else, it’d be great PR. I think people would really like seeing you be so invested in an intern, personally taking him for a deeper look at what you do.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Pep, Peter’s already seen what I do. Hell, he practically lives in the lab after school. He literally has his own room here.”

“Sure, but he only ever sees Tony, his hero, mentor, and father figure.” Tony opens his mouth to protest that last label, but Pepper cuts him off. “Shut up, it’s true and you know it. Now, as I was saying, I think it’d be really beneficial for him to see you as Tony Stark, a business man, company owner, and employer.”

“The answer is still no!” Tony says.

And yet somehow, that conversation led up to now, with Peter standing awkwardly at his side at eight in the morning, staring at the main floor of Stark Industries with awe on Take Your Kid to Work Day.

“Mr. Stark, thisissocool!” Peter exclaims in one big breath. Around him, workers are bustling about. Tony, quite frankly, can’t believe he’s never taken his fake intern into the main part of his building. A careless oversight. It’s impressive, really, that the whole “internship” story has managed to hold up for this long.

“Whoa, calm down, kid,” he says, watching the kid fondly as he practically buzzes with excitement. Peter looks at him with wide eyes.

“What are we going to do today? Are you going to boss a bunch of people around? Build stuff? Paperwork? Now that I think about it, what do you even do?” Peter asks, sounding breathless. Tony just shakes his head in awe, wondering how after all this time, the kid can look at him like he hung the moon.

(And he would. He’d hang a thousand moons if that’s what Peter wanted.)

“Well, first of all, Pepper’s usually the one who bosses me around, so I’m sure you’ll get to see some of that today. We have a press conference at one. Oh, don’t worry, it’s no big deal. We’ll introduce you as one of SI’s interns and explain that I decided to take this day, when a lot of other kids would be around, to show you the ins and outs of what I do. They’ll love it,” he reassures.

And they do.

But Tony’s not surprised, really. The kid has a way of getting everyone wrapped around his finger.

Peter, awkward and nervous at first, quickly gains a bit of confidence, occasionally answering a reporter’s questions with typical teenage sass, but always with a soft smile so as not to offend.

“How did you two meet?” one curious reporter asks. Tony puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Well, this one here is a huge dumpster diver. I actually got an opportunity to see his skills at fixing and making tech with natural ease, so I encouraged him to fill out an application for the internship. His application was outstanding, to say the least, and the rest, as they say, is history,” Tony says with a smile.

“Peter, were you a fan of Iron Man even before the internship?” another reporter asks.

Peter laughs. “I mean, who wasn’t? But really, I was always a bigger fan of Mr. Stark himself. The work he’s done to create a clean source of renewable energy? That’s insane! I can only dream of making strides like that. I watched a documentary on his robots over the years when I was younger, and I remember thinking, ‘I want to be like him!’ It’s actually what led me to start dumpster diving and fixing old tech. I never even imagined it could lead me to work under the man who inspired me.”

Peter shrugs, missing Tony’s stunned gaze trained on him, while the reporters listen with rapt attention.

“So yeah. Iron Man is amazing and all, but the real hero is the man underneath the suit, which I think people like to forget. The suit isn’t heroic – it’s the man underneath it that is.”

Tony is speechless. Absolutely speechless and completely overcome with an emotion he can’t quite identify as Peter looks over at him and offers him a shy small, as if worried he’s maybe said something wrong.

Tony’s throat clogs with the amounting of affection he has for the awkward, precious, genius, and selfless fucking kid, and he’s nearly knocked off his chair by the force of it. He clears his throat roughly, before addressing the crowd that’s busy melting.

“As you can see,” he says, wrapping an arm around the teen. “I brainwash my interns well.”

The crowd laughs, and the spell of emotion is broken.

However, when Tony goes down to his lab that night, long after Peter’s been dropped back off at home by Happy, he finds a sticky note attached to one of his computers, the messy scrawl deeply familiar.

There’s only four words, but they make Tony’s heart swell in his chest.

I meant every word. -P

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter IX: Eddie sees what his daughter is capable of.

They say don’t go to bed angry.

That’s fine and all but what happens if you’re already in bed? What if you wake up angry? What then?

In Eddie’s case, he woke up an hour earlier than necessary, glanced at Richie—curled up tight on his side of the bed, facing the wall—frowned, and got up. He washed, dressed, snuck into both of his daughters’ rooms to kiss them as they slept, and headed off to work. He had an hour to spare so he treated himself to eating breakfast at their favorite local diner. He felt queasy for the rest of the day.

He worked, said hello to his co-workers, argued with clients on the phone, sat through a meeting that should have been an email, ate lunch at his desk, absently scrolled through Bev’s Instagram, and left at precisely five o’clock. From his window, he could see that the day was overcast and rainy, and felt oddly satisfied that it matched his feelings.

When he arrived home, he sat in the driveway for several long moments, gathering his thoughts. The lights were on and he knew the girls were probably playing in the living room while waiting for Richie to finish cooking dinner. He had no idea what to expect from his husband when he walked through the door but he knew he wouldn’t say anything in front of the girls.

He sighed, rubbed at his tired eyes, and got out of the car. Whatever was bothering Richie, they could figure it out. They survived Derry in ‘89, Derry in 2016, several trips to the hospital with their daughter—they could handle anything. He briefly wondered if Richie’s attitude was due to his old complaint that he spent too much time at work but that couldn’t be it. He hadn’t stayed late for weeks and was always home before six.

Perhaps he was still worried about Tess. Eddie got it, he was worried, too, but she seemed to be doing so much better and the tests had cleared her physically so what could they do? Act like his mother and fret and nag and suffocate their children? No, he had promised himself he would never be like as a parent and he wasn’t going to start now.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and barely had time to lock it before the front door slammed open and Richie rushed out, shouting his name. Eddie’s heart froze and his stomach clenched, fear coursing through his veins.

“Wha—the girls. Are they okay, what’s going on?” he managed to stammer out before Richie grasped him by the wrist. He blinked when he realized Richie wasn’t upset or terrified...he looked excited.

“It’s real, it’s all real,” he exclaimed. “I talked to him. And Tess showed me. She’s not sick. It’s real.”

“What?” Eddie gasped. “What are you talking about?”

“Eddie, she has these...these abilities, and we’re not crazy. He told me!”

“Who?”

“The man from those articles Mikey sent us. I found him! Well, Mikey found him and I called him today and we spoke for hours. Eddie...” Richie grasped Eddie by the shoulders, and, for the first time in weeks, looked genuinely happy, “those weren’t seizures. She’s fine. She’s perfectly fine. She’s just powerful.”

Eddie stared, slack-jawed, at his husband. His mind was running in circles, trying desperately to catch up to Richie’s seemingly nonsensical words.

“Richie, I—”

“Come on,” and Richie turned, still grasping Eddie’s wrist, and pulled him to their front door. “I almost called you to come home earlier but I thought you were still angry at me.”

“Well, I was, I mean, I am.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Richie said quickly, shooting him an apologetic look over his shoulder. “But we’ll talk about that later. I have to show you this.”

“Show me what?” Eddie demanded, thoroughly confused.

“Tess!” Richie called as they entered their home. “Tess, come here, baby.”

He pulled Eddie into the living room, where Tess was coloring while her sister danced along to the saccharine song playing on the TV. Tess looked up and smiled.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said happily.

“Hi, Daddy,” Lydia gasped in between very high kicks.

“Hey, girls,” Eddie managed to get out before Richie knelt down in front of Tess.

“Kiddo, I need you to do me a favor,” he said breathlessly. Tess gazed up at him curiously. “I need you to show Daddy what you showed me.” She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Show him what Abracadabra showed you.”

“Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Who’s Abracadabra?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“Her imaginary friend,” Lydia replied, now doing something that resembled frantic jumping jacks.

“She’s real!” Tess insisted.

“Is not,” Lydia replied.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Okay, okay, no fighting,” Richie broke in. “Tess, please, show Daddy.”

She hesitated again, turning her worried gaze to Eddie.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asked. “You don’t want to show him?” Tess shook her head. “Why not?”

She bit her lip again before leaning towards Richie, bringing her hand to her mouth as she whispered in his ear. He listened carefully and then straightened when she finished.

“Oh, Tess, you don’t have to worry about that,” he said gently.

“What is it?” Eddie asked, still thoroughly confused.

“She thinks if she shows you, you’ll get upset,” Richie explained.

“I don’t even know what you want her to show me,” Eddie replied, exasperated before turning towards his daughter. “But I won’t get upset, whatever it is. I promise.”

Tess looked doubtful as she muttered something under breath.

“What’s that, kiddo?” Richie asked.

“I said I don’t wanna hurt his feelings,” she repeated, a nervous expression on her face.

Eddie’s heart clenched again and he tried to smile reassuringly.

“Sweetheart, you can never hurt my feelings, it’s alright,” he insisted. “So just show me whatever Daddy wants me to see so we can go in and eat dinner.”

“Oh,” Richie said suddenly, a sheepish look on his face, “I sorta forgot to actually cook dinner.” He turned towards his daughters. “How about this? Tess, you show him and we’ll order pizza!”

Both girls shouted with delight and Eddie was about to admonish Richie for bribing them when Tess abruptly rested a hand on the side of his face and suddenly, Eddie was somewhere else. He was half-conscious of the fact that he wasn’t breathing but instead of being terrified, he was astonished to discover he actually didn’t need to breathe at all.

Perhaps he was in freefall or maybe the sights and sounds around him were tangible objects that could fly but either way, he tried desperately to make sense of what was surrounding him. His father—always looking so old before his time—alive and smiling; his mother handing him pills that were far too big for him to swallow; Richie throwing spitballs at the back of his head in history; the sickening snap of his arm; Stan smiling at him for the last time; watching the news while his mother warned him about blood and needles and what happens when boys touch other boys and the shame he felt that was somehow both hot and cold at the same time; Richie telling him he didn’t like the arcade anymore, it’s for babies; moving to New York City and the smell of his mother’s sick room; kissing Myra and feeling weak with misery; staring at his bottles of pills and wondering just how many he needed to get it over with; Richie’s face in the Jade of the Orient; Richie’s face always—in the bowels of Derry, in the hospital when he woke up, in Los Angeles, when they married, when they were approved for adoption, when Lydia and Tess first called them Daddy and Papa. Then, just as quickly, the images and sounds rushed into a box as if sucked in by a vacuum, and a hand slammed a cover down over it.

The air rushed back into his lungs with such force, he nearly doubled over as he struggled for breath. He coughed and gasped and wiped at his streaming eyes before looking up. Lydia was staring at him curiously, the TV remote held limply in her hand. Tess’s little face crumbled and she launched herself into his arms, her own around his neck. Eddie turned his gaze up at Richie, who was smiling beautifically and calmly, as if everything had gone according to plan.

“Wha—” Eddie gasped. “What was that?”

Richie’s smile grew and he placed a hand on Tess’s head, stroking her hair comfortingly.

“It’s called shining,” he said.

“She’s not alone in this,” Richie explained. “This guy from New Hampshire, Dan, he’s had this ability since he was a kid. And it started out the same way. He’d have these episodes that looked like seizures but weren’t.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes glued to his clasped hands resting on the kitchen table. He remained silent.

“And she can, like, learn how to control it but he was impressed when I said it seemed like already was to a point,” Richie continued. “At first he was a bit cagey and didn’t want to talk, but when I mentioned Abracadabra, he seemed to trust me.”

“Abracadabra?” Eddie repeated, quirking an eyebrow up.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s, like, a code or something,” Richie shrugged.

Eddie rubbed at the bridge of his nose tiredly. He said nothing.

“But you see it now, right, Eds?” Richie implored, leaning in closer to his husband. “It’s all real. You have to see it. I’m not crazy.”

Eddie looked at his husband’s beseeching face.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?” he whispered. “That I thought you were crazy?”

Richie swallowed and suddenly paled. He looked away as he gathered his thoughts.

“I—I just thought you didn’t...I don’t know,” he sighed. “Sometimes it seemed like you wanted a rational explanation so badly that you’d ignore...I don’t know.”

“Rich,” Eddie said gently, resting a hand over Richie’s, “I never once thought you were crazy.”

“But you said—”

“I thought some of the things Mike sent us were a little crazy but never you. I know you just...wanted answers.”

“And we have them now,” Richie insisted.

“And what are we supposed to do with them?” Eddie asked. “Our daughter has these powers or whatever. Okay, fine. What the fuck are we supposed to do? Expect the government to walk in here like in E.T. or something?”

“No, I…” Richie looked at a loss for words. “I don’t know. I think we just have to help her control and understand it. Dan said he knew someone who could help.”

“And you trust this guy? I mean, you just spoke to him on the phone,” Eddie pointed out.

“I know but he said some things that...He’s the real deal, Eds.”

Eddie sighed and gazed up at the kitchen ceiling.

“I don’t want you talking to him again,” he said suddenly, bringing his gaze down to Richie, who looked shocked. “Who knows who this guy is.”

“But—”

“If Tess is doing better than let’s just leave it at that.”

“Eddie—”

“She’s not a science experiment.”

“I know that!” Richie snapped. “Do you think I’d do anything to put her in harm’s way?”

“No, we’re just going to...let things lie for now,” Eddie said, squeezing Richie’s hand. “If something…changes, then we’ll talk about it some more.”

Richie’s shoulders slumped as he frowned.

“Alright,” he said after a few moments. “I guess so.”

Eddie reached out a hand and caressed his husband’s face. Richie looked at him, surprised.

“I’ve really fucking missed you,” Eddie admitted, his voice cracking.

“I’ve been right here,” Richie replied, confused.

Eddie shook his head and, to his immense embarrassment, felt a hot prickling behind his eyes.

“The last few months, you’ve been so obsessed with figuring this thing out with Tess—and I get it, I really do, I wanted answers, too, and you’re a great father who just wants to keep our girls safe—but it really felt like you’ve been...gone,” he said, the words pouring out of his mouth. “It got to the point where it seemed like you were pulling away. Not just from me but even Lydia. I mean, she’s our daughter, too.”

Richie stared at him with a wide-eyed, slightly horrified look on his face.

“Eddie…” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” Eddie said quickly. “I just—”

“No, I...” Richie replied, resting his own hand over Eddie’s. “I didn’t...I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Rich, come on.”

“And after last night…”

“Was that about this?” Eddie asked curiously. Richie nodded, shame-faced. “But why?”

Richie sighed and straightened in his seat.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I was nervous or just...I guess I didn’t want to hear you call me crazy again.”

“Oh, Rich,” Eddie sighed. “Fuck.”

Richie shrugged and stood.

“I was just being selfish and fucking blind,” he admitted. He offered a tentative smile to his husband. “I’m sorry. Come on, baby, let’s go to bed.”

Eddie smiled, stood, grasped Richie’s hand, and took him to bed.

Saturdays were always good days. They could sleep in, have breakfast as a family, relax (at least until it was time to take Lydia to one of extracurriculars. Today was gymnastics), and just...be.

Richie was standing at the stove, making pancakes and promising Tess that yes, they could watch The Wizard of Oz later (even though they had watched it earlier in the week) while Eddie poured another cup of coffee.

“Okay, pancakes almost finished,” Richie announced. He glanced around the kitchen. “Lyds not up yet?”

“No,” Eddie said. “I’ll go get her.”

“She better not be sick,” Richie mumbled. “That Anderson kid was sneezing when I carpooled Thursday.”

“Oh, relax,” Eddie replied. “You sound like my mom.”

“Hey, be nice about my ex-wife.”

Eddie shot him a withering glare and flipped him off (after making sure Tess was too busy with her nose buried in a pop-up book) before heading down the hallway to Lydia’s bedroom. The door was halfway open. He peeked in, frowning when he saw Lydia still in her bed, with her back to the door.

“Lyds?” he said gently.

She sniffed loudly but didn’t turn around. He stepped in, walked up to her bed, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Lydia, are you okay?” She turned her face up to him and Eddie’s heart lurched when he saw tears streaming down her little face.

“Sweetheart, what it is?” he whispered as he sat beside her on the bed.

She sniffed again and wiped at her eyes.

“Is Tess gonna get taken away?” she asked, her voice thick.

“What?” Eddie asked, nearly breathless. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you and Papa talking last night,” she admitted softly. “Is the government gonna take her like in E.T.? I know she’s annoying sometimes but I don’t want her taken away!”

Eddie clenched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sweetheart, no, that’s not…” He trailed off and sighed before gently wiping her tears. “Come on, come in for breakfast and we’ll talk to Papa.”

He pulled back the blankets and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Hey, Lyds, how many—” Richie looked up and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie sat her down at the table next to her sister and turned towards his husband.

“Lydia is upset because she’s worried about her sister,” he explained, raising his eyebrows at Richie in an effort to get his point across. Richie swallowed and nodded once as Eddie looked at their daughters. “But your Papa and I would never let anything happen to either of you. Right?”

Richie nodded again and smiled at both Lydia and Tess.

“Right,” he repeated. “That’s our jobs, after all. To keep you two safe. No matter what.”

“Even though Tess…” Lydia trailed off, glancing at her sister.

“Listen, Tess isn’t any different from you,” Eddie said quickly. “You’re both our priorities. Understand?”

Both girls nodded.

“But maybe…” Richie stopped short and swallowed nervously. He ran a hand through his hair. “Girls, I think it’d be best if you didn’t...mention anything about Tess’s...abilities to anyone.”

“Why not?” Tess asked.

Richie hesitated.

“Because people might not understand,” Eddie said quickly. “And it’s nobody’s business. So let’s just...keep it to ourselves.”

Tess nodded and continued eating her pancakes but Lydia still seemed distressed. Eddie felt his heart clench as he recognized some of his own childhood fear on her face. He reached out, took her hand in his, and kissed it gently.

“There’s no need to worry,” he said firmly. “I swear to you, Lydia.”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Okay, Daddy,” she said softly. “I believe you.”

They smiled at one another when Richie ruined the moment by exclaiming, “Oh, shit, the pancakes.” He rushed to the stove where several pancakes were burning.

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled when he saw both his daughters laughing.

“Are we fucking this up?”

Eddie took a deep breath and turned his face towards his husband. Richie was staring at the ceiling, a worried look on his face.

“Rich, I…” he sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Now Lydia’s scared,” Richie whispered. “Lydia’s not scared of anything but now…”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t say it was my fault, asshole,” Richie replied. He sighed and rolled onto his side towards Eddie. “How can we protect the girls when we don’t even fully understand what we’re dealing with?”

Eddie frowned and turned onto his side, as well. He reached a hand over to brush Richie’s curls behind his ear. Eddie felt himself smile. Even after all these years together, he still found the sight of Richie without his glasses amusingly odd.

“What are you grinning at?”

“You,” Eddie answered. “You look funny.”

“Thanks,” Richie huffed.

“Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that,” Eddie sighed. “And you’re right. I don’t know how we deal with this. I mean...I guess we need to do more research.”

“I think I read everything out there,” Richie admitted.

Eddie gave his husband a penetrating look.

“You want to talk to that Dan guy, don’t you?” he said.

Richie bit his lip and nodded once. Eddie sighed.

“Alright,” he said gently. “But we do this together. No more hiding things, okay? Including how we fucking feel.”

Richie nodded and smiled so genuinely, it made Eddie shiver. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Richie’s.

“I really have fucking missed you,” he said.

“Me too,” Richie whispered against his lips.

They kissed for several more deliciously long moments, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Eddie pulled Richie flushed against him, and groaned at the feeling of Richie’s erection.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “Kids definitely asleep?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Door locked?”

“Fuck.”

“Wanna just chance it?”

Richie grinned and reached his hand down underneath Eddie’s boxer shorts. Eddie moaned.

“Good,” Richie murmured, “you’re hard already.”

“Course I am, I told you I fucking miss you.”

“Good,” Richie repeated, leaning in to kiss him again, “because I do not feel like waiting. I need you to fuck me like yesterday.”

“You sound like an idiot,” Eddie laughed.

“How is that any different to how I sound everyday?”

“Good point,” Eddie admitted, releasing a shaking breath as Richie stroked him. “Fuck, Richie.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Richie replied, smiling as Eddie rolled his eyes. “Get the lube. And don’t make faces. You love me.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, grinning, “I really fucking do.”

[hangjie]

whatever it takes. [ peter parker ]

summary: it has been five years since thanos wiped out half of the population and since the avengers killed thanos. so, what’s left for you?

warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!! a lot of crying and a bit of swearing

word count: 3,057

author's note: i deleted the original version of this bc i thought it was absolute crap ;( i watched endgame for the second time, so my mind is refreshed on what happened and what some of the lines are. this is mostly the same tho! it's just rewritten and i added some parts. 

in this one, reader is still skilled in combat, but she mostly uses guns during missions and let's just say, reader is always wearing a suit ;))

(okay but my dumbass self literally forgot scott i aM SO DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF)

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

snap.

half of the population was wiped out.

most of my friends and family are gone.

he’s gone.

it has been five years since thanos snapped his fingers and turned half of the population to dust and five years since we killed him in hopes of getting our loved ones back, but to no avail.

let’s say, thor went for the head this time.

the punching bag swings back and forth as i punch it with all my strength. i feel the sweat rolling down my temples and dripping down to the ground. i feel my hands ache and my body screaming for me to take a break, but i still continue to swing punches.

“(y/n)? mr. stark? i don’t feel so good.” peter says with fear evident in his voice.

he was so confused and so scared.

he literally was dying, but he didn’t realize until the very last moment and i didn’t do anything about it.

a punch after another, i punch the punching bag faster, making it swing further and further back as my heart starts to pound inside my chest. 

tony runs over to us and peter clings on to us tightly. “i don’t wanna go. please. i don’t wanna go.” he shakes his head as he shakily holds on to us. “i don’t wanna die.”

tears start to cloud my vision and i blink them away, letting them roll down my cheeks and mix with my sweat.

i cradle him in my arms, sobbing and brushing his hair comfortingly. “you’re not going anywhere, pete. you’ll be okay, i swear to God, you’re going to be okay. we’re going to be okay.”

i kick the punching bag and before i knew it, i was punching and kicking, frustrated sobs escaping my mouth and angry tears rolling down my cheeks.

peter drops to the ground, weakly and tony and i kneel beside him, each holding one of his hands shakily. he looks at each one of us with a sad smile on his face. “i’m sorry,” he softly says as he looks at tony who tries to hide his tears, but fails as he looks at the person who he considers as his son.

i picture the big purple asshole who took nearly everyone from me and i feel my blood inside my veins start to boil from the thought. i hear the metal holding the bag squeak, but i still continue, not caring if it breaks or not.

peter turns to me and says the words that i’ve been dying to hear ever since. “i love you.” i sob and kiss his knuckles with tears running down my face and some even getting on his hands. “i love you too,” i say and he smiles before he fades away like the others.

i picture the smug look on thanos’ face after he snapped his fingers and with a final punch and kick, the metal holding the bag breaks, making it throw itself on the other side of the room with a loud ‘bang!’.

i hear a low whistle and slow clap from behind me. i turn around and see the proud face of my #1 superhero slash dad, tony stark.

“wow. that was actually impressive,” he says, approaching me in slow strides. “remind me to not let you hang out with steve because you’re becoming more and more like him and less and less of me.”

i don’t reply. instead, i turn my back towards him and walk away from him to drink some water. dad sighs and i feel him walk closer to me. 

“you can always talk to me about peter, you know.”

i feel my body tense up when i hear the mention of peter. 

“dad, i’m fine,” i quietly say, teeth gritting against each other.

“i know that you want to see him and try to get him back, but–”

“dad, i said ‘i’m fine’!” i snap, finally turning towards him. he looks down at me with a surprised expression. he tries to say something, but before he could, i rush towards him and wrap my arms around his torso.

dad places his hand behind my back, rubbing it up and down in comfort while the other one softly brushes the hair on the back of my head (despite being sweaty as fuck). i press my ear against his chest, sobbing loudly as tears stain his shirt.

“i miss him, dad. i miss him so much.”

“so do i, kiddo.” i hear dad’s voice break, but he quickly hides it with a cough. he kisses the top of my head and he says, “and i know that he misses you too.” i sadly smile at the thought of the dorky smile plastered on peter’s face as he says how much he misses us.

i pull away from dad and he grabs the sides of my face, kissing my forehead before saying, “i’m always here for you, kiddo.” i chuckle. “you’re so sappy, dad.”

“i’m sappy? how about you? crying over a boy who tripped over everything.” i feel dad ruffle my hair, making me push his hand away with a groan and a smile. 

before i could walk away from him again, dad pulls me into a tight hug. i immediately melt into the arms of my father and hug him back just as tight.

“we’ll get peter back. we’ll get them all back,” he reassures, cradling my head like a baby. i sigh and nod my head, knowing that he means what he said.

“i love you, dad,” i say against his chest. “i love you 3,000 times more, kiddo.”

-----

i reload the pistol in my hand and aim it at one of the empty cans several feet away from me. i squint as i readjust my aim before pulling the trigger. the can goes flying backwards with a hole in the center. i focus my aim towards the glass bottle on my right and shoot, making it instantly breaks and sending thousand of glass shards flying in every direction.

i repeat the same actions again until i feel a tug on my shirt. i look down and see my little sister, morgan holding the end of my shirt with big puppy eyes. 

i tuck the gun away and crouch down to her height. “hey, what are you doing here?” i say. “you know you can’t go here. dad will kill me if he sees you here.”

“daddy said to check on you. he said that you were sad.” my heart swells at the innocence of my sister and the concern of my father. “or maybe you just missed me.” i tease, brushing my fingers on her sides. she squeals and tries to get away from me, but dad appears and walks towards us.

he chuckles at the scene of his two daughters in front of him. “i know that i should be mad, but my two girls are just so cute,” he says and kisses our cheeks before inviting us back inside. dad picks morgan up with one hand and he places his other hand on my back, leading us to our house. 

when we make our way towards the patio, we see a grey car parked in front of our house and uncle steve, aunt natasha, uncle scott, and uncle rhodey come out. 

we stop in our tracks and i feel dad tense up beside me.

“tony, (y/n), we need to talk.”

-----

“time travel? quantum realm? are you crazy?” dad shakes his head in disbelief. “so, you’re telling me that your plan is basically ‘back to the future’?” he scoffs when uncle scott nods his head. “it’s not going to work.”

after my uncles and aunt settle on to our patio, they start talking to us about using quantum physics as a way to get the infinity stones in the past and to get the fallen back.

“tony, the stones are in the past. we’ll time travel before thanos got them,” uncle scott says, trying hard to be patient, but it is obvious that his patience is wearing thin. “and when we have them, we’ll snap our fingers to bring everyone that turned to dust back into our reality,” aunt natasha adds.

“we’re not going to come back,” dad protests.

“but i did.”

“that’s because you got lucky!” dad snaps, making everyone speechless. 

intensity runs in the silent air, the only noise being the ripples running along the lake until dad sighs. “listen. do i want to bring everyone back? yeah. do i want what i have right now to remain the same? hell yeah.” dad slouches, placing his elbows on the top of his knees. “i cannot leave my family.”

“but what about us, tony? aren’t we your family too?” aunt natasha says and dad looks on the ground, sadly.

an awkward silence engulfs the air until the door open and closes and morgan runs out, immediately latching herself at dad.

“hey, squirt,” dad greets, picking up morgan from the ground. 

“mommy told me to come save you and (y/n).”

“well, you saved us, alright.”

dad stands up and begins to ramble on about miscellaneous things until uncle steve grabs dad’s arm, restricting dad from moving another step.

“tony, i get it. you have a wife and two kids and i’m happy for you.” uncle steve looks down at the ground, sadly before looking back up at dad with desperate eyes. “but this is your second chance.”

“i already got my second chance right here.” dad motions towards morgan and i and escapes from uncle steve’s grip.

i sit, confused on what to do. i mean, i do want to obey dad and i know that he’s doing this to keep our family safe, but i also want to at least try in bringing them back.  

i glance towards my uncles and aunt and see their defeated and desperate faces. i can see the gears turning inside their head as they scrunch their eyebrows together and think of another way to forego with their plan. i can see the tears in aunt natasha’s eyes, knowing how much the avengers means to her since we are her only family.

i feel the lump forming inside my throat as i take a deep breath. i will probably get my ass kicked for this, but it’s worth the try.

“i’m in.”

everyone’s attention turns towards me and i can feel their eyes widen and bore into my body. 

“w-what? what do you mean?” dad asks, looking more confused than everyone else in the room. 

“i’m time travelling with them, dad.” 

dad freezes and puts morgan down, whispering for her to go inside first. after morgan runs inside, dad straightens his back and crosses his arms against his chest, a stern look on his face. 

“(y/n), you are not going with them.”

“dad, stop. i can do this. i know that i can.”

“are you crazy?! no. absolutely not, young lady. you are staying home with your mom, me, and morgan. end of discussion.”

“dad, you are so selfish!” i snap. hot angry tears run down my cheeks and i aggressively wipe them away with my hand. “half of the population on this planet is gone and you’re not even going to at least help in bringing them back? how could you?” i say, heartbreak and the feeling of betrayal evident in my voice. “after everything the avengers sacrificed, you’re not going to try? i want to atleast do something good in my life and-”

“i don’t want to lose you, (y/n)!” dad grabs my shoulders, lightly shaking me as his glassy eyes lock with mine. he inhales a shaky breath and drops his head down in sadness. “you are my first born. you are one of the reasons as to why i am standing in front of you and you have such a bright future ahead of you.”

i break free from my dad’s grip and walk away, wiping away the tears from my eyes.

before i step into the house, i turn back to my dad and see his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks staring back at me. “i’m doing this for peter, dad.” i say, my lips quivering. “i’ll do whatever it takes to bring him back.” 

i turn my back towards him and step into the house, leaving him, my uncles, and aunt in utter silence.

-----

i lay in my bed, eyes glued on the ceiling as memories of peter flash into my mind, my heart breaking inside my chest.

i miss him.

i roll to my side and my eyes immediately glance at the picture of peter and i on my bedside table. i pick it up and i sadly smile when i see us dressed in our homecoming attire with our wide grins and with peter’s arms snaked around my waist.

i remember how he pulled me close and how he kept telling me how beautiful i am and how much he loves me.

peter’s eyes go as wide as platters and his jaw drops to the floor as i approach him, my dress flowing in the wind. i feel my cheeks flush when i feel his eyes look at me up and down, taking my appearance in.

he continues to stare at me when i am in front of him. it wasn’t until i adjust his collar and tie that he snapped out of his trance.

“cat got your tongue, parker?” i smirk, transferring my focus to his wrongly placed corsage. i chuckle when he tries to say something, but what only came out of his mouth were stutters.

“i-i . . . i’m n-n-not–” i kiss his cheek, making his cheeks turn bright red.

i laugh and peck his lips before peter pulls me into a passionate kiss. when we pull away, he smiles brightly at me before saying, “you’re absolutely breathtaking.”

“you’re not so bad yourself, parker.”

before he could reconnect our lips, we hear someone clearing their throat, making both of us pull away with tomato red cheeks and nervous laughter. my dad rolls his eyes and makes a gagging noise. “pepper, let’s get them out of here before a bunch of peter and (y/n) start running around the house,” i groan as mom hits his arm. “what?” he says, lifting his arms up in surrender.

my parents walk out of the room and when they were gone, peter intertwines his fingers with mine. i turn towards him and he locks his brown eyes with mine as peter lifts our intertwined hands, kissing the top of my knuckles. i feel my heart swell inside my chest and i feel it beat faster and faster each second.

“shall we go, m’lady?” peter says, in a posh accent, making me laugh. i peck him one last time before i say, “we shall, spiderman.”

i hold back a sob as tears drop on the picture frame. i hold the picture frame close to my chest and i whisper, “whatever it takes,” before i head out of my room, determined to change my dad’s mind.

when i walk in the living room, i hear mom and dad quietly talking and i approach them silently. 

right before i could say a word, my eyes glance towards the table in the middle of the room and see a model of a time space gps. my eyes turn towards the ‘model successful’ text above and my jaw drops to the floor.

it’s going to work.

“(y/n), what are you doing up?” i hear my mom ask. i turn my attention towards them and i point towards the time space gps model with my mouth still agape in shock. “it’s really going to work?” i ask still in disbelief even though the answer is literally right in front of me.

dad sighs and slowly nods his head.

he walks closer to me and kisses my forehead, bringing me into a hug. “now we know where you got your stubbornness from.”

-----

to make the long story short, we time traveled back in time to get the infinity stones before thanos got his hands on it. it took several tries, but we eventually got a hold of the stones.

after we got back, we discovered that aunt natasha lost her battle and unfortunately passed away. despite my dad’s arguments of letting me go back home, in fear of the same thing happening to me, i manage to convince him to let me stay.

we were trying out luck with the stones by letting uncle bruce (who now prefers being physically hulk) wear the infinity gauntlet my dad made and snap his fingers.

when the gauntlet is wrapped around his arm, uncle bruce lets out a painful shout, making my blood run cold in anxiety and fear. “turn it off! turn it off!” uncle thor says, scared for his dear friend, but uncle bruce manages to lift his arm up and with one last shout, he snaps his fingers and a bright light erupts in the room.

as the light fades away, i hear a loud thump! and i turn my head towards that direction and see uncle bruce with the arm where the gauntlet was placed burnt. everyone crowds around him, trying to comfort him and asking if it worked. as dad tries to treat his arm, the sound of a phone vibrating echoes throughout the room.

everyone’s breath hitches in their throat as uncle clint slowly approaches his phone. when he sees the caller id, he immediately answers the call with teary eyes and a shaky voice.

“hey guys. i think it worked.”

right before anyone could say another word, i feel myself being thrown back as the ceilings of the headquarters begin to crash down accompanied with explosions and shouts. 

i feel my body being thrown on concrete several times before i feel my body collide with a wet surface. i groan out loud and clutch my sides, feeling my body ache and slowly bruise all over. i try to get back up, but i fall back down.

before i could try to get back up, i feel my body numb and my eyelids start to become heavy. everything starts to blur as my eyes slowly start to close, the darkness engulfing me.

MASTERLIST

[ilovemygaydad]

18 ON THE DIALOGUE PROMPTS SORRY I FORGOT TO SPECIFY

it’s cool lol. I used two of the 18s because... it fit idk.

Title: Captive Heart

Prompts: “What’s that? Why is the sky like that?” “What? Have you never seen a sunset before?”; “Please answer me.”

Pairings: Prinxiety (well... it’s kind of more platonic/pre but it’s still cute okay)

Warnings: death mentions, gun mentions, mass shootings, prisons, dystopian societies, executions mentioned, physical fights, being mean to others, mentions of wounds, amputations, prosthetics, a metric ton of swearing, panic attacks, anxiety, IVs, hospitals, and i think that’s it but... there’s a lot of shit that goes down

a/n: this got.... very long........

**don’t rip out ivs it’s Really Bad and i know this is a trope but uhhhh virgil doesn’t know any better because he literally has the knowledge of like a 7 year old child who has only seen the outside world like 50 times in 21 years

Roman was so excited to go on his very first raid mission. He had spent the last twenty-one years training for this very day, and now he was finally able to do it! And on his birthday, no less. It was an exciting day, even if Logan was being a giant thorn in his side.

“Roman, do remember that this warehouse is over twenty klicks away on rough terrain, and we are only going to be able to bring enough provisions for us for the next twenty-four hours. Don’t go off-route, and certainly don’t lag behind. This is a very important mission for us to gain supplies; I will not have a rookie like you messing this up.”

“Oh my gods, Specs!” Roman sighed. “First off, you’re only twenty-two, so it’s not like you’re some seasoned veteran like Patton. Second, give me a break! I’m far more reliable than you’re making me out to be. I wouldn’t have made it into L-1 if I was stupid.”

Patton set down the bag he was packing with a grimace. “Well, kiddo, you did go off course in the sim to save that ‘child’ that ended up being a trap. And then you died in that sim. And there was also the time you lagged behind because you were sure that you had found something in the woods and wound up getting lost until we were on our way back. Oh, and what about--”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. I’m a horrible soldier. However, I know that this is far more dire than a sim. I won’t screw up, promise.”

Logan glared at him for a second, but he wave his hand in dismissal. “Fine. Just remember that I am the captain of this mission, so you are to report back to me if anything goes awry. All thirty of us will have comm-packs, so it shouldn’t be an issue to contact me; however, if something does happen to your comm-packs, I will be notified of such.” He handed Roman his bag. “Shall we?”

“Fuck yes!”

“Roman Sanders,” Patton chided as he readied the gate.

“Um… Heck yeah!”

“Better.”

The supplies raid didn’t end up being a supplies raid at all. It was a warehouse full of prisoners. And, gods, it was a bloodbath. As soon as the rebel soldiers had been spotted, instead of shooting at the soldiers, the Savior guards began to kill off the prisoners. Roman had desperately wanted to run ahead--to try and save even one of those people, but he knew that he couldn’t jeopardize himself or the mission like that. He had promised.

So, instead, he followed Logan’s orders to the letter, and he watched countless children and adults die. These innocent people were killed right before his eyes, and all he could do was hang back and stay safe while the others secured the perimeters and took the guards as prisoners. Roman was too important to lose.

All of that hurt--it hurt so fucking bad--but none of it was as awful as having to go around from room to room and check for survivors so they’d know who to loot and bury. It was a slaughter that he had not been able to stop, and they were just going to take the useful clothes and other items and dump the bodies into unmarked mass graves. Roman loved the cause that he was fighting for, and he knew that he was on the right side, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Each time that he went to find a pulse on a kid not much older than his brother, he felt his soul crumble that much more.

He had gone through four or so rooms without finding anyone still living. Logan had ordered the search to cease in five minutes before regrouping to determine a burial strategy, so Roman only had time to go through one last room. There were only three bodies in this one, all huddled together in the back corner, so it was easy to go through it quickly. He made it through the first two with the same results as before, but the body farthest back… had a pulse.

“Holy--Oh my gods, wake up!” Roman shook the boy in front of him gently, willing him to wake up. “Are you alright? Oh, please answer me!”

When nothing happened, Roman decided that he obviously needed to save this boy. He was so frail; it looked like he hadn’t had a proper meal in… well, ever. With an uncomfortable amount of ease, Roman scooped him up into his arms and rushed back to the rendezvous point. Most of the crew was there already, save for Patton and a few others.

“Logan, I--”

“Roman, why are you carrying a body around?”

“It’s a survivor! We have to take him back with us.” Roman took a step forward, but Logan held out his hand to stop him.

“Absolutely not. We will leave him here for the night and bring him back with the Savior guards tomorrow.”

“Logan, please--”

“What,” Patton interrupted, stepping into the room. “Is going on here?”

Logan gestured frustratedly at Roman. “He wants to take this survivor back with us tonight even though we don’t have the supplies to do so.”

Roman felt angry fire burn through his veins. “Have a heart, will you, Logan? He. Will. Die. We have to take him back tonight. He is injured and starving, and I am not going to just leave him here--completely alone, mind you--because you’re too set in your ways to even budge a little.” He turned to Patton, pleading. “I’ll keep him as my sole responsibility. No one else has to even think about him; I promise! Just let me take him with us. Please.”

“Well, Logan… I know that it’s not ideal, but Roman does make a good point.”

Logan glared at both of them. “Whatever. Fine. But you are taking care of him the whole way back, and you will be in charge of him at camp. He is not my responsibility, nor anyone else’s. Do you understand, Roman?”

“Yes! Oh, thank you so much. I promise that you won’t regret it.”

Roman may or may not have underestimated how much energy it would take to carry the survivor back to camp. Sure, he weighed maybe forty-five kilos, but that was a lot to carry for a twenty klick hike. The other soldiers were starting to get farther ahead, moving much faster. Logan would kick his ass if he got lost, but it wasn’t like he could ask for help. His stubborn nature had brought this upon himself, and he had to deal.

“Hey, Ro… Do you want a break? You look like you’re about to pass out,” Patton asked gently.

Roman nearly dropped the boy due to his shock. “God, Patton. Warn a guy next time.”

“Whoops, sorry, kiddo. Seriously, though. Let me take him for a while, okay? We don’t have to tell Logan.”

Before an argument could even form in his head, Patton had scooped the survivor into his arms. There wasn’t anything that Roman could say that would make Patton do anything else. The twenty-nine-year-old was the oldest and most successful in their sector. If it weren’t for rules, he probably would have made it into raid teams at sixteen. Patton was a six-four, two-hundred pound beast with intelligence to rival Logan, who was undisputedly the smartest person to ever join the rebellion. And Patton had a heart of gold, so he was a bit more stubborn than anyone else on the team when it came to helping.

Roman did appreciate it, though. He was actually able to chill out and look at the landscape. Their sector was surrounded by forest. They weren’t allowed to go out very far for fear of traps that had been set by the Saviors, so Roman hadn’t seen most of it, but he was able to see tons of flowers and plants that didn’t grow near their base. Little blue flowers grew along the sides of the path, and wild violets--Patton had pointed those out--were sprinkled around the ground further out into the foliage. If he wasn’t tied so strictly to the rules that he was already technically breaking, Roman would have been eager to run out and be among the nature.

But he didn't. He just fell into step with Patton, and they idly chatted until they were back at the base.

Virgil… couldn’t feel his arm. He tried to think if he’d fallen asleep on it, or maybe Raleigh or Sel accidentally did, but his last memories were fuzzy at best. His eyes cracked open slightly, and he was met with bright, white light, which was even more strange than not being able to feel his arm. Prisoners were always woken up before being brought outside to watch the executions, so why…?

Wait, where the hell was he?

Virgil sat up lightning fast. He raked his eyes around his surroundings and saw absolutely nothing familiar. A weird, clear snake-thing and bag of liquid was hooked into his arm--oh, shit, was he going to die?--and he was on a soft table of some sort with a scratchy piece of cloth draped over him. Someone he didn’t recognize was slumped in a chair--is that what a chair is???--in a corner asleep. There was a huge window on one of the walls, and a crate-like thing below it with a few metal things on it.

And his right arm was just fucking gone. Just not there. His right shoulder now ended up in a stump. He had lost his arm.

Holy shit, he had no idea where he was, and his arm had been cut off.

Breaths were coming in short, wheezing patterns, but Virgil was completely unable to calm himself. Who wouldn’t flip the fuck out when they woke up in a weird room and missing a fucking appendage? Tears welled up in his eyes as his brain raced through the possibilities. The guy in the corner seemed unarmed. If he could find something sharp, he might be able to escape and find out what the hell was going on.

As quietly as one having a panic attack could, Virgil slipped off the bed and ripped out the snake that had been inserted into his arm for mobility. He attempted to compose himself--and admittedly failed--as he stalked over to the crates under the window. After a few minutes of poking around, he found exactly what he was looking for. A sharp, pointy metal stick had been sitting on a tray of other equally sharp and pointy sticks inside the crate. Carefully, Virgil picked it up, holding it tightly by the handle. Now, to--

“Oh! You’re awake. Hello!”

Virgil spun around violently, swinging out his arm in an attempt to maim the person behind him. The stick pointed out in front of him as he stared, chest heaving, at the man. He was the one who had been asleep in the chair just moments prior. He looked afraid. Good.

“Um, if you would please put that scalpel down, sir…” He spoke too well. He had to be one of those awful doctors that the other captives whispered about when one of them was taken away and never seen again. Virgil swung his arm again, but the man jumped backwards just as fast. “Woah! Stop! Dude, please, I just want to ask some questions so that I can figure some things out about the Saviors.”

There was a second of hesitation, but Virgil lunged this time, throwing the stick to the side and using his hands to claw at the man. Well, he tried to do that. Within a second, Virgil was pinned to the ground with a knee resting just between his shoulders.

“Can you please calm down? I’ll explain everything if you’d just stop trying to kill me.”

Virgil hissed. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I--Wow! That’s extremely rude, you know, to say for someone who saved you from that dreadful Savior warehouse and almost single-handedly carried you twenty klicks back to our base.”

“Motherfu--wait, what?”

The man huffed. “Honestly, what does it take for a valiant soldier to get some recognition around here? I find the one survivor in the whole facility, and I’m almost told to just leave him there to die. However, I fight for this survivor and convince my hardened leader to allow me to bring him back with us. I stay with him day and night for the next two weeks as he fights off a nasty infection and a coma, and then this happens! He tries to kill me! How absolutely rude is that?”

“One survivor?” Virgil processed what he’d heard. “Oh my god…” Raleigh and Sel were dead. They were actually dead. Not only was he in a place that he was completely unfamiliar with, his only friends were fucking dead.

“Yes. It was absolutely devestating--”

“Get the hell off me.”

“Wha--”

“Get. Off.” The pressure on his back immediately lessened, and he could see that the man slumped against the crates next to him. Virgil pushed himself into a sitting position and curled up, trying not to cry. He couldn’t show weakness. He didn’t want to be punished for crying.

“Did you… were those two people in the room with you your friends?”

Virgil couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded slightly, taking care to not make eye contact.

“I’m very sorry about that. From what I saw of the aftermath, they are responsible for your survival. They took most of the bullets, and you escaped with only one shot in your right arm. The wound did end up becoming heavily infected due to the lack of attention I was able to give it before our arrival here, and your arm needed to be amputated, but we are working on making you a prosthetic.”

“A… prosthetic?” Virgil flicked his eyes up in confusion.

“Yeah, a prosthetic.” The man said it as though it were obvious.

“Oh… Right.” He had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

The man didn’t comment on Virgil’s hesitation if he even noticed it at all (which, honestly, Virgil doubted because he seemed rather… unobservant). “Is it alright if I call the nurse to replace your IV? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” The man stood up and started to exit, but he paused at the door. “I forgot to ask. What’s your name?”

“Virgil.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil. My name is Roman.”

It had been a few weeks since Virgil learned what scalpels and prosthetics and IVs were. He’d learned a lot of things during that time. As it turned out, being held captive since you were a toddler led to a lot of lost knowledge of the world. Virgil learned about beds and cabinets and spaghetti and so many other awesome things like swords. Giant, shiny, stabby pieces of fucking metal! It was amazing.

Not only that, but Virgil was making new friends. He’d met Patton and Logan, who Roman claimed to be his “best friends,” even though Logan seemed less than enthused to be categorized as such. Patton was a sweetheart, and he was the one who designed Virgil’s awesome prosthetic arm, and Logan was just really smart and calming. He liked them both.

Over the weeks, he spent the most time with Roman. The soldier had helped him heal, and he had even brought him out to watch training sessions a few times as entertainment. He’d sworn to secrecy not to tell another soul that this had happened, but Roman allowed Virgil to spar with him a few times, and they discovered that, due to his small size, Virgil was extremely agile.

“Hey, Virge. What are you thinking about?”

Virgil snapped out of his reminiscence. “What? Oh, sorry. I was just zoning out.”

“Good.” Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him out of the cot (Virgil’s own cot because he actually had his own room now). “I want to show you the roof!”

“Gods, Roman, I’ve already seen a roof. This isn’t some learning opportunity. You’re just being weird.”

“Hush and let me take you outside. The weather’s very nice, and neither Patton nor Logan are willing to come out with me.”

A smirk tugged at Virgil’s lips, and he teased, “Roman, I’m hurt. I can’t believe that I’m your last choice.”

Roman laughed and continued to drag him around the facility. “Whatever.”

When they entered the fresh air outside, Virgil felt so refreshed. He closed his eyes and inhaled the clean, cool air. That was something that he had never gotten used to--being able to go outside virtually whenever he wanted. It was incredible. He opened his eyes to take in the view--

“Roman, what’s that? Why is the sky like that?! What is going on?” Virgil pointed at the orange and pink sky and clung to his companion.

“What?” Roman held Virgil back, but he did look very confused. “Have you never seen a sunset before?”

“A what?!”

“A sunset. Between day and night, there are periods of time where the sun rises and sets. During that time, the sky turns different colors due to small particles of dust.” His gaze softened. “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I promise.”

“But--”

“Hey, how about we sit down and watch the sky. Nothing bad will happen, but if you truly start to feel upset, we’ll go back inside. Alright?”

Virgil looked into Roman’s eyes for a few moments. If he had learned anything since his emancipation from the Saviors, it was that Roman never broke a promise. “Okay.”

It wasn’t long before Virgil and Roman had both fallen asleep in a tiny pile on the roof in a puddle of silver moonlight.

[hannahindie]

The Wedding Singer - Track 8

“Til There Was You”

Characters: Dean, Ellen, Reader, Ketch, Jeff (OC), Jo, Chuck

Word Count: 3,101 (This one’s a doooooozy)

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the eighth chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @pinknerdpanda entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. I made our 80s inspired aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

As always, tags are at the bottom! If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

Track List 

Track 8: “Til There Was You”

“Dammit, Dean Winchester! What the ever lovin’ hell is wrong with you?” Dean shrank back against the couch cushions as Ellen stood up, gesticulating wildly. “She is engaged. To another man, in case you forgot! Oh, I could wring your neck.” She glared down at him, her hands on her hips, and Dean couldn’t help but be reminded of a cartoon figure with steam shooting out of their ears.

“Ellen, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, you’re sorry alright. What in God’s name was going through that thick skull of yours? I can’t even begin to believe...I just...oh!” She crossed her arms and continued to glare at him.

Dean almost felt sick as he stared down at his hands. He didn’t have a good answer for any of it, other than it just felt right at the time. It felt more right than it ever had with Lisa. “I don’t know why I did it,” he almost whispered. “I just...I wanted to feel something. Everything was numb, and when Y/N walked me outside, everything just...it felt better. I swear to God, Ellen, it just happened.”

Ellen sighed and sat back down next to Dean, “Honey, I know you’re sad. You have every right to be heartbroken, and if I could have my way, I’d kick that bitch’s ass. But you cannot drag Y/N into this. That girl has got a ring on her finger, and even if I think he might be a bit of a corporate goon who's never around, he's got a good paying job and takes care of her. If my gut is tellin’ me the truth, that man is going to finally set a date soon. I think that’s why he came to visit.” Ellen tucked her knuckle under Dean’s chin and made him look at her, “Y/N is beautiful, and kind, and sweet. If circumstances were different, I think it might have been good for you. But they aren’t, and you can’t just screw around with her feelings. Do you hear me, Dean? Leave it alone.”

Dean nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, pack up your shit and get on outta here. Bobby will be home any minute, and I don't think you're gonna want to be here when he finds out what happened.”

Dean gathered up the sheet music and folded it up neatly, then slipped it and his guitar back into the case. He walked towards the front door, then paused and turned back to look at Ellen. It nearly broke her heart to see him look so sad. “I really am sorry, Ellen. Can you...uhh...maybe tell her that when you see her?”

Ellen gave Dean a sad smile, “Sure thing, kiddo. Now go, get outta here.” Dean softly closed the door behind him and Ellen sighed.

These kids were going to end up being the death of her.

Dean drove slowly through town as he tried to decide what to do. He didn’t want to go home; Sam would wonder why he was back already. Although he knew enough to explain it, that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Sam right now. He definitely couldn’t go to the community center, although he did need to talk to Chuck. As he pulled up to the stoplight, he realized that he probably should apologize to Jeff and Sheila for his atrocious behavior at the reception. He turned right instead of going straight and headed towards their house. He slowed to a stop at the curb and paused; maybe they were on their honeymoon. He decided to chance it and slowly walked up the sidewalk to their door.

He went to knock and paused. What was he supposed to say to someone that had just gotten married, someone who had paid him generously to sing at their reception, when he basically just announced to everyone married life was a mistake and that they’d need all the luck they could get? He rapped his knuckles against the bright red door and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked again. Just as he was about to turn to leave, the door flew open and he was face to face with a very angry Jeff.

“What the hell do you want?” Jeff demanded, his knuckles white as he gripped the door.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and across the back of his head nervously, “Uh, well...I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I said-”

“You’re sorry? Sorry? Hey honey!” Jeff shouted over his shoulder, “Dean’s sorry about last night!” He turned back and glared at Dean, “Why don’t you tell my 97 year old great grandmother you’re sorry? Better yet, explain to her why some drunken asshole was yelling obscenities about his failed marriage instead of just singing like we paid him to do? You realize Chuck had to finish the night out, right? You need to get it together, Winchester.”

“I know, man. I know. It was unacceptable, and it should have never happened. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I can get you a partial refund-” Before Dean could finish his sentence, Jeff punched him hard in the mouth and Dean stumbled backwards and off the porch. He nearly fell but somehow managed to regain his balance as he looked up at Jeff in shock, his hand moving to the blood now trickling down his chin.

“Your pal Chuck already saved your ass and gave us a full refund. Like I said, get your shit together. You’ll be lucky if you get another job around here after last night.” Jeff slammed the door shut and Dean stumbled back to the Impala and threw himself into the driver’s seat. This had been a mistake.

“Should have had that conversation with Chuck first,” he thought glumly to himself as he pulled into the street. He glanced at his watch: one o’clock. As much as he didn’t want to, both Chuck and Jo would be at the community center by now. He turned onto the main drag and made his way to the last place he wanted to go. Then again, nobody else would be there, so maybe it was the best option after all.

Y/N pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and haphazardly parked in a spot close to the door. The sky had begun to darken, and it seemed very fitting for the mood that she was in. She flipped down the sun visor and looked at herself in the mirror. What little makeup she had on was now smeared and running, and she quickly cleaned it up as well as she could before heading inside. She sniffled, took a deep breath, then forced herself to get out of the car and walk through the front door. She smoothed her skirt as she got to the hostess stand, and nervously waited for someone to assist her. A young girl hurried out of the kitchen, a wide smile on her face, and stopped at the wooden podium.

“Welcome to Fratelli’s, how may I help you today?”

Y/N cleared her throat, “There should be a reservation for two, under Ketch.” Before the girl could answer, Y/N felt someone grab her hand and swirl her around to face him.

“Hello, darling! Running a little late today, are we?”

Y/N forced a smile, “Sorry, Ketch, I forgot to charge my phone and the alarm didn’t go off. Thank goodness for Aunt Ellen’s need to feed the entire neighborhood bacon and eggs, or I would have never woken up.”

He planted a gentle kiss to her forehead, then whisked her towards one of the best tables in the place. “Ah, well never mind that. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” Y/N felt a surge of guilt as his lips brushed her skin, followed by confusion when he mentioned they had a lot to discuss.

She slipped carefully into the chair he pulled out for her and raised an eyebrow, “What exactly do we need to discuss?” She asked as she picked up her glass.

“Our wedding, of course!”

Y/N nearly choked on her water, “Wait, what?”

“I think now is the perfect opportunity to set a date for our nuptials. I’ve got just enough time in between work assignments that we should be able to exchange our vows, go on our honeymoon, and be back before anyone even notices I’m gone.”

Y/N’s gaze traveled to the glinting diamond on her left hand, the sunlight pouring through the window throwing rainbows across the table as it passed through the clear stone, and her mind immediately went to Dean. The way his lips fit with hers, the fire that had nearly consumed her before she pulled away, the look of pure want in Dean’s eyes...she shouldn’t be thinking about it, she should be listening to Ketch. But the moment he mentioned marriage, her heart felt like it had been placed into a vice, and someone was turning the handle slowly but painfully. This was what she wanted, right? She had been practically begging him for months to pick a date, to settle on something so that she’d have a goal to work towards. But it had been so long, Y/N had forgotten the excitement she felt when they were first engaged, forgotten what it felt like to look forward to dress shopping and picking out flowers, and choosing the music.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion as she looked up at Ketch. His mouth was moving, but she didn’t hear anything he was saying. All she could think about was how alive she’d felt when Dean had kissed her. Before she realized what she was doing, Y/N stood up and leaned across the table, ran her fingers through the short hair at the nape of Ketch’s neck, and kissed him. She pressed into him, hoping to feel the spark she’d felt last night; the desperation, the undeniable, heart stopping ache of fitting perfectly together. Instead, Ketch pulled back and looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Y/N, we are in a public place! Whatever has gotten into you?” He ran a hand through his hair and Y/N slowly sat back down.

She cleared her throat, “Sorry...I uhh...you just look very handsome today.”

Ketch smirked at her, “As I should, this suit cost more than most of the people in this restaurant make in a year.” He smoothed his lapel then continued, “As I was saying, I think two weeks from this Saturday will suffice, don’t you? A nice Saturday wedding, small, simple, to the point? I’d rather not have it at the community center, but there aren’t too many other options, and I think outdoor weddings are far too cliche for our taste, don’t you?”

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes, “Two weeks from this Saturday? Are you sure? I’m not sure I’ll have time to get everything booked, get a dress…” she trailed off, panic rising in her chest.

He shrugged, “Well, only if you want to. It will be awhile before I will get another chance, and I know you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I would hate for you to have to wait any longer, darling.” He patted her hand and smiled, “So, what will it be? Are you ready to become Mrs. Arthur Ketch?”

Y/N looked down at their hands, then back up at Ketch and swallowed thickly.

Was she?

Just as Dean pulled into the parking lot at the community center, the dull rumble of thunder rolled through town as the wind picked up. Huge, black thunderheads moved slowly across the sky, threatening to dump their contents at any moment. Dean pulled his collar up to shield himself from the wind as he climbed out of the car and practically dragged himself inside. The moment he walked through the door, he heard an exasperated yell.

“Dean Winchester! What the hell is wrong with you?” Jo stormed across the room and stopped in front of Dean, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.

He rolled his eyes, “How many more times do I have to hear that today?”

“How many more times until you get through your thick skull how stupid you are?” Jo snapped back. “You kissed Y/N? What the fuck is your damage?”

“Jo, listen-”

Jo jabbed Dean in the chest with her pointer finger, “No, you listen. She is a good person, with a huge guilt complex that makes her feel like everything is her fault. She doesn't need your help to make it worse. Seriously, Dean, how old are you? We aren't in high school anymore. Unbelievable.”

“I didn't mean for it to happen! I'm not even blaming the alcohol, I just...I don't have an explanation. I'm really sorry.”

Jo opened her mouth to argue, but Chuck had appeared out of nowhere and put a hand on her arm. “Yelling at him isn't going to help, Jo. What's done is done, and if he just steers clear of Y/N, we should be good, right?” He turned his gaze on Dean, “Right?”

Dean nodded, “Yea...right.”

For the first time, Chuck noticed Dean’s bloody lip, “What happened there?”

Dean reached up and grimaced as his fingertips grazed his split lip, “Jeff.”

“Oh, Jesus, when did you see him?”

Dean sighed, “I didn't realize you'd already refunded him, so I stopped by to apologize and offered to give them a partial refund. Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. God, I really fucked this up.”

Chuck put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “It's not all bad, brother. This will blow over. I hope it's okay that I did that, I honestly didn't know what else-”

He was interrupted by the front door flying open as the wind ripped it away from the person that entered through it. Jo, Dean, and Chuck all looked over to see Y/N standing in the doorway, soaking wet and wide eyed. Dean’s eyes locked with Y/N’s and before he could say anything, she blurted out the last thing he'd ever want to hear her say.

“I'm getting married in two weeks.”

Jo squealed and ran over to her, ignoring how wet Y/N was, and threw her arms around her, “He finally set a date! I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think he would. No offense, but he kept you dangling there for awhile.”

“Yea, he did...but two weeks. What am I supposed to do with that?” Y/N’s eyes never left Dean’s and the longer he looked at her, the sicker he felt. He stormed past Jo and Y/N with a mumbled congratulations and into the pouring rain in time to purge himself of the meager breakfast he'd had just a few hours before. He leaned against the rough brick of the community center and let the cool water run over his feverish skin.

He stood up straight with a groan and walked towards his beloved Impala, the only place he seemed to be safe from bullshit today. He made it about halfway before he heard someone shouting over the pouring rain.

“Dean!” He turned slowly to see Y/N walking towards him, the rain causing her thin shirt to cling tightly to all her curves, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” She stopped a couple feet short of him and it took everything he had not to close the space between them. This was stupid; he'd only known her for three weeks. But looking at her, her y/h/c hair framing her face and somehow making her look even more beautiful despite it being dripping wet and clinging to her, he wanted to kiss her. Fiancé be damned.

Instead, he laughed. She looked at him in confusion and he threw his hands out, “No! I'm not. Do I look okay to you? Does anything about this scream okay?”

“You don't have to yell-”

“I'm not yelling. You asked a question and I'm answering it. My fiancé left me in front of everyone I know, I may have lost any chance of getting hired again, the whole town either feels sorry for me or thinks I'm a fucking drunk, and now you-” he gestured to her, but trailed off.

Y/N took a step towards him, “Me? What about me?”

“Nothing! Forget I said anything.” He turned to go to his car, but stopped when Y/N grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around.

“What about me, Dean?”

“You're...you're getting married! To some corporate dick bag that is never here. I mean, you're living with your aunt, for Chrissake, why aren't you with him?” Before she realized what she was doing, Y/N slapped Dean hard across the face. He looked at her, stunned, as his hand slowly moved up to touch his now red cheek.

“You have no idea what you're talking about. You have absolutely no right to be angry with me. You're just jealous of Ketch and I!”

“Ketch? That’s his name?” Dean scoffed. “There’s not anything to be jealous of, sweetheart. Because the way I see it, it's a marriage of convenience. You're so used to just being with him that nothing else could ever be possible or make you happier. Newsflash! You're wrong. You can't tell me that kiss didn't make you feel something.”

“I don't know what you're talking about-”

“Bullshit.” As they argued, they had both moved closer and closer until they were standing toe to toe.

“It didn't mean anything.”

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes, the usually bright moss green dark and lust blown, “Prove it.” Dean pulled her into him, one hand twisted in her hair as the other hand slipped down and grabbed her waist. Every part of exposed skin that touched seemed to spark, and Y/N couldn't help but grab the front of his flannel and pull him closer. His tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and she gasped as he nipped at her. He pulled back and swept the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

“Think about that while you're waiting on Ketch.”

He turned and climbed into the Impala, and Y/N jumped at the sudden roar of the engine. He sped off, and she watched as his taillights disappeared into the stormy afternoon.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here and the lovely @pinknerdpanda can be found here.  Thanks for reading! :) 

The Wedding Singer - Series Tags: @nanie5 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tiffanycaruso @faegal04 @bethbabybaby @aesthsuggestion @escabell @lavieenlex @letmusicguideu @charliebradbury1104 @ericaprice2008 @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @journeyrose @kudosia @spnfangirl1965 @pickupthatamulet @faithfullpanicmoon @castianityislife02 @hexparker @squirrel-moose-winchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @fullmetalavatar54 @flormolero @mrsbatesmotel53 @dancingalone21

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @easelweasel @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003

Dean Only: @lavieenlex @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @highonpastries

[jamespeppersalt]

Vaike/Cynthia PC Support

One of my friends said Cynthia would be “goofy” with Vaike as her dad

She was right but the support is not nearly as goffy as the original draft :^P

Feat. lots of heroing!

Vaike/Cynthia PC Support

C Support

 Villager: Thank the gods you two arrived just in time! Our village can never thank you enough.

 Cynthia: You don’t have to thank us, civilian!

 Vaike: My daughter’s right. It’s all in a day’s work!

 Cynthia: And if you’re ever in trouble again, don’t be afraid to call after us again!

 Villager: We’ll certainly keep that in mind.

 (Villager leaves)

 Cynthia: That was AMAZING, Papa!

 Vaike: Well, shoot, squirt! You think so?

 Cynthia: Yeah!! You’re, like, the coolest EVER!

 Cynthia: And our entrances were uber-awesome! I told you that chrysanthemums were totally your color!

 Vaike: We should do this again sometime, kiddo! Although I may need to work on my entrances...

 Vaike: But I can’t stay and chat; I’ve gotta skedaddle.

 Cynthia: Huh? Where?

 Vaike: Oh, you’ll see! It’s where I first took the steps to becoming the great Teach!

 Cynthia: Really?! I can’t wait to see it, then!

 Vaike: You will soon, trust me! See you in a bit, Cynthia!

   B Support

 Vaike: Alright, just a little detour before we leave Ylisstol.

 Vaike: Wonder how everyone’s been...

 Cynthia: Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! Where have you been?!

 Vaike: Cynthia? What are you doing here?!

 Cynthia: You weren’t in the barracks! I thought we were going to meet up to work on your heroic entrances!

 Vaike: Oh, geez. I forgot…

 Vaike: Uh, sorry, sweetheart, but I needed to come here before we left, or I wouldn’t have time.

 Cynthia: Huh? Where are we?

 Vaike: What? Don’t you know this place? This is the place I told you I was going after we saved that village!

 Vaike: This is my home!

 Cynthia: I-It is? It looks so…

 Cynthia: ...Different.

 Vaike: I’m surprised future me never took you here! C’mon, you’ve got to meet everyone!

 Woman: Ah, Vaike! If it isn’t the neighborhood hero. What brings you here?

 Vaike: Hey, Hilda! Just a routine visit before the Vaike has to march off.

 Woman: And who’s this then? One of your Shepherd pals?

 Vaike: This is my daughter! Say hi, Cynthia!

 Cynthia: ...Hi.

 Woman: Oh, she looks just like her mother! You’re a lucky fella.

 Woman: Well, any child of Vaike’s is family to us. You’re always welcome here, sweetie!

 Vaike: C’mon! I’ve got to introduce you to the rest of the family!

 Vaike: ...Hm? Why the long face, hon?

 Cynthia: E-Er, no reason!

 Vaike: Hm. Well, okay! But we gotta hurry.

 Vaike: Hey, there’s Cousin Lenny. Hey, Lenny! Teach’s back to see ya!!

 (Vaike leaves)

 Cynthia: This place… it’s just like he always said it was…

  A Support

 Girl: Oh, Cynthia, do it again!

 Cynthia: Alright!

 Cynthia: Look upon my might, ye wicked, and despair! HIYA!

 Man: Now isn’t that just nifty! You’re a hoot, Cynthia!

 Cynthia: I’d love to stay, but I’ve got to march out soon! A Shepherd’s work is never done!

 Vaike: Cynthia? What are you doing here?

 Cynthia: D-Dad! I didn’t know you were coming for a visit today.

 Vaike: I wasn’t going to originally, but I thought I’d find you here.

 Cynthia: What?! How’d you know I was here?

 Vaike: I figured you’d come; you’d been asking about this place for days after I first showed you around.

 Vaike: When I couldn’t find you or Belfire anywhere at camp for the fifth time, I put two and two together and figured you’d come here.

 Vaike: I know it’s nice to visit home every once in a while, but we have a duty, Cynthia! This is an unauthorized absence!

 Cynthia: I know! And I’m sorry! It’s just…

 Cynthia: In the future, a lot of Ylisstol was destroyed. Some places were left mostly intact, but others were… worse off.

 Cynthia: Places where there weren’t a lot of soldiers, full of poor, defenseless people that nobody higher up would miss…

 Vaike: ...Places like this. The slums.

 Cynthia: You never took me here because our enemies razed it. You never forgave yourself for not being able to save it.

 Cynthia: I wasn’t deserting, I swear! I didn’t know if or when it’d happen, so I wanted to be here whenever I could to check on it, just in case.

 Cynthia: But as I did my patrols, I got to know a lot of people here! They’re so friendly, but they’re also really sad.

 Cynthia: They don’t deserve to be destroyed or forgotten… or to be sad.

 Cynthia: So I’ve been helping out here or there, fixing stuff, strengthening defenses, doing perimeter checks on Belfire--

 Cynthia: Even just to doing a cool routine or flower fortunes to cheer people up!

 Cynthia: I know it’s been taking out of heroing it up with the Shepherds, but… I think it’s worth it.

 Vaike: Cynthia…

 Vaike: I think you’ve learned a lot, but you’ve forgotten one thing.

 Cynthia: Huh?! What’s that?

 Vaike: It’s just as important to be a hero OFF the battlefield as ON!

 Vaike: You’re doing a lot for the people here when not many people are. Even something as little as cheering up people who are sad…

 Vaike: If those people have next to nothing else, you can be just as much there hero to them as the guy whacking people with swords!

 Cynthia: You really think so?!

 Vaike: Of course! If I’d had someone like you here to help me out and cheer me up, it would’ve meant the world to me!

 Vaike: I’m proud of you, kid.

 Cynthia: R-Really?!

 Vaike: Of course! I just hope you’ll let your old man join you!

 Cynthia: Ah! Of course!

 Cynthia: I think there are some kids around here who wanted to learn how to do flower fortunes!

Cynthia: C’mon, Dad! There’s heroing to do!

[freakingholland]

Tom Holland x actress!reader

A/N If you notice a mistake, please let me know. I don’t own the photos!

Word count : 1186

Type : fluff 

Warnings : slight swearing

Being an actress is one of the most amazing jobs because of many reasons. You star in popular TV shows, movies. Anything of that wouldn’t be possible without your gorgeous fans and their support. You are surrounded by a lot of talented people who make sure that every project is topped out. You are a true inspiration for young people and that’s a huge responsibility. You are one of the youngest stars in this business, but you are doing great. You are currently working on a movie called “Captain America: Civil War” alongside actors such as Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr. and Sebastian Stan. You portray Black Widow, who is in Tony’s team. This role is fantastic, because you can show your gymnastics skills and how powerful you are. You stepped out of Starbucks with a cup of your favourite drink and drove to the movie set, which was about 20 minutes away from your neighbourhood. After you parked your car you headed towards the costume crew. You walked into the room full of people in a hurry. 

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” said Chris greeting you with a hug. He was one of your best friends, he always treated you like a younger sister 

“Hello! I’m great… I’m hella excited for today! I’m shooting some fight scenes.” 

“Yeah, me too! I have to go now, see you later!” He responded. 

You were about to go to the makeup artists but someone grabbed your shoulder. 

“Good morning Y/N, could you please help me?” said Tom who was already in his Spider-Man suit. 

“How can I help you dear?” you asked with a hint of worry in your voice. 

“Well… I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me tonight?” He asked. Hs very weird question took you by surprise. After a few seconds you finally responded. 

“You are joking right now, aren’t you? No. NO,” You turned on your heel and walked to your room, where your crew has been waiting for you. You were really angry because you liked Tom, a lot. He seemed like a nice guy, what he did was just completely akward. He never acted like this, he was always a real gentleman. Since you had a lot to do you just forgot about that situation.

After 6 hours of doing stunts you went with Anthony and Sebastian to grab a lunch. 

“He’s an asshole” Anthony simply commented. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked raising your voice slightly. 

“I’m talking about Thomas Holland, who is also known as little asshole. I saw you two talking, I don’t know what was your conversation about, but I just want to let you know that he sometimes doesn’t know what to say.” 

“So he accidentally says something inappropriate” added Sebastian. 

“He likes you y/n” they said in sync. 

“Really? Guys, I swear I feel like you stalk me” You said raising your eyebrow. 

“We all… I mean me, Anthony, Robert, Chris, Elizabeth…” 

“What are you trying to say?” You interrupted Sebastian. 

“We ship the two of you”. 

“Wow…” you gasped.

 “I-I-I… have to say that it’s quite sweet.” You said after a few seconds. 

“You two should get together kiddos.” Said Sebastian and you laughed a little.

After work you had a bit of free time, so you planned to spend your afternoon watching Netflix. You were laying on the sofa in your living roo and watching “Stranger Things”, when your phone buzzed. You received a message from Tom. 

“Hey Y/N, can you talk?” You typed “yes” and sent the message. Tom called you and you answered. 

“Y/N I’m so sorry! I-I was totally kidding! I just wanted to ask you… f-for a… f-ffor a… date” he said with a shy voice. 

“I didn’t like your joke…” 

“I know,” he said interrupting you 

“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t like you Tom” you said, feeling your cheeks flushing red. You could hear that he was surprised by your answer. 

“How a-about a date tomorrow after work?” He asked with a little stutter. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you, we have to talk about something. But keep in mind that if you’re ever going to say things like that really bad pick-up line, I will slap you ” you responded. 

“Well, see you tomorrow!” He said with a chuckle at the end. 

You were in a limousine with your boyfriend, heading to the premiere of “Captain America: Civil War”. 

“I’m super excited.” You said looking into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes. He just grabbed your hand tighter in his. 

“I love you y/n.” 

“I love you too little asshole” you responded with a grin on your face. 

“I feel offended” said Tom. 

“You should” you said laughing. 

You were happy that you were going to walk down the red carpet holding hands with love of your life. Fans screamed as they saw the two of you. Photographers took many pics of you in your beautiful gown. 

“I ship y/n and Tom so hard OMG!” You heard a teenager shout, you smiled at Tom who was cry-laughing. Then you had photos with a rest of the amazing crew. You and Tom also had an interview together. 

“Hello everyone! I’m Chelsea Briggs from HollywireTV and I’m joined by a beautiful Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland! It’s lovely to meet you guys!”

“Well thank you for having us” you responded and Tom shook his head yes. 

“First of all, congratulations on your new movie! I’m grateful that tonight I have the opportunity to see it. What it’s like to be a superhero? Were you fans of MCU before you got your roles?” She asked. 

“Of course! We were teenagers when the first films have been showing up in the movie theatres, so it’s a dream come true for us!” Tom said as he was looking at you 

“Yeah, exactly!” you added. 

“All of the heroes were my role models when I was younger, and they still actually are. You don’t need to have superpowers to save the world. The most important thing is to be a good person, who cares about other people. That’s at least what all of the movies thaught me as a kid.” you said. 

“I agree with you” said the interviewer. 

“Now I have a question because the Marvel fandom is curious. Are you guys dating?” She said with a wide smile. 

“We have been together for nearly a year now, so yeah… I think that we’re in a pretty serious relationship” Tom said tightening his hug around you. 

“You guys are really sweet! Thank you for the interview, have a great evening. See you next time!” 

“Thank you! Have fun tonight!” You said nearly in sync with your boyfriend. 

The rest of the night was great. You watched the movie, you attended the after party with your co-workers and you had so much fun, because they are your best friends now. You danced the night away with Tom.

On the next day every fan of MCU fandom had a lockscreen with Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland kissing.

[dylanowhy]

On A Jet Plane - Dylan O’Brien Imagine

Author: dylanowhy (me)

Summary: Deciding to follow your dream, you try out for a small role in a new upcoming movie. During your audition you end up practicing lines with none other than Dylan O’Brien, thus landing you the lead part. Now you’re getting your big break, while also falling in love with your co-star.

Pairings: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: Language. Kissing.

Word Count: 2,280

A/N: Thanks for baring with me as it took me a hot minute to get this out. I hope you enjoy! Sorry for the cliff hanger! Feedback is always welcomed.

Part I - Part II - Part III

“You’re going to be fine.” This time the words came from Tyler. Nearly everyone had given you a pep talk today, trying to convince you that the plane ride was going to go perfectly fine. Part of you wanted to believe that it was true but the fear inside of you was growing stronger each minute. It didn’t help that Dylan kept teasing you about it. “Any last words?” He asked as our gate number was called. You quickly smack him with your bag, giving him one of the most glaring looks you could muster. He only laughed though, not finding you the slightest intimidating.

“Babe, you’re going to be fine. I promise.” Babe. That was a word you had gotten use to over the last few days. Although you didn’t know exactly where you and Dylan stood, he called you babe and that was enough for you. He obviously just got out of something that was a bit hazardous and you weren’t about to push him into something else. He needed time and you were willing to provide.

“Whatever.” You playfully rolled your eyes acting as if there was not a smile appearing on your face. He hugged you from behind, pulling you close and laying his head on your shoulder. “I saw that.” He whispered and you removed his arms. “You saw nothing, now let’s go die.” The lady that was checking the tickets gave you a judging look as you broadly smiled and enter the hallway that was leading you to your doom. You almost looked back when you heard Dylan’s laughter, he was clearly enjoying this.

Your eyes widened when you realized you had a window seat, looking back to give Dylan the most sympathy look, your bottom lip sticking out in hopes he would switch seat with you, he nodded, stepping beside you. You watched and he place your bags above the seats before sliding in with you quickly to follow. “Thank you.” You spoke once you were seated.

“It really isn’t bad, kiddo.” The voice of Jim was louder than the chatter around you and you realized that he was sitting beside you. Dylan gave you a slight look and it took you a minute to catch on. Hardest part about falling for someone on set is not knowing when exactly to express it. It was not like they were having to keep it a secret, they didn’t have a reason to, but it could put a lot of pressure on set that wouldn’t work out too well.

“I don’t know about that one, Jim.” You found yourself laughing, you almost forgot how to do that. “We could always get some liquid courage.” Jim’s eyebrows raised and you really took in him for the first, his slight scruff and the tang of too much aftershave, you could tell he had been spending day and night on this movie and you admired that so much. “Are you trying to get (Y/N) drunk, Jim?” Dylan leaned slightly over you, keeping the conversation between you three. Jim smiled, chuckling, “You’d like that too much.” Those words caused you to blush and for Dylan to sit straight, coughing back a laugh. Maybe things weren’t as secret as thought.

The loud ding made you jump and the two boys beside you tried not to laugh. “Ladies and Gentleman –“ The flight attendant started her normal routine, going through the procedures and talking about safety. You obediently buckled your seat belt without hesitating. You could feel your heart beating as time started to move a little slowly. “Babe.” There was that word again and you wondered when you took his hand, wondered when you started holding it so tight. You relaxed a little as the flight attendant took her own seat and everyone got ready for takeoff.

Turbulence was hell. You honestly thought it was the devil trying to drag you down were you belonged but instead of getting a laughing Dylan like you expected, you had this caring, loving guy who was trying his hardest to sooth you through it. “It’s just like a rollercoaster. You love rollercoasters. It’s a little scary at first but as soon as things get going, it’s all smooth from there.” – “You know that I would never let anything happen to you, right?” The last question was a whisper but it became the solo reasoning of your heart pounding.

The flight seems to ease after that, the rest of your traveling being a walk in the park. Maybe it was Dylan casual and gentle touches here and there, or maybe it was those words still lingering in your mind. “Five minutes until landing! I am starving.” You could hear Tyler’s voice from somewhere behind you, followed by Emma’s loud sigh. For a split second, you forgot they were there, it brought you back to reality.

“So, maybe it wasn’t that bad.” Your shaky voice gave away the lie, but Dylan smiled anyways. “I still can’t feel my hand from your death grip.” He commented, causing a smirk to appear on your face. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.” He laughed, “Loved it? I think you might have broken a bone.” His expression was serious but his eyes screamed laughter. “I am about to break more if we don’t get off this plane.” You finally found yourself unbuckling and coming to your feet. “On that note, I’m out.” Jim walked his way down the aisle.

It was like walking into another world. You tried not to make a big deal out of it, but you had never been to a place like this. California was probably the most exciting place you have ever been. You came from a small town with practically nothing to a big city with nearly everything, but this was something more than that. Different language, different atmosphere, it was all too much to take in at once and yet everyone around you seemed so used to it.

“The car will take you to the hotel. If I were you I would rush to get dinner and then turn in for the night. We have a big day tomorrow, there is not enough coffee in the world to prepare us, so get a good night’s sleep. Here are your room keys.” Stacy handed everyone a card, and you eagerly looked to see who you were sharing a room with, which immediately made you frown. “Girls you are 409, boys, you got 610. Sorry they are so far apart, couldn’t get side by side. Last minute and all.” Stacy gave a nod and an apologetic look. “Alright, off you go. And Tyler, please reframe from partying too hard. I’ve heard stories.” And with that, the four of us were left to go to our hotel, but more importantly, you were ready to go explore.

“Italy.” You said for possibly the twentieth time. You heard a chuckle behind you. “You know, you keep saying that.” Dylan had been here before, in fact, it was one of his favorite vacation spots. None of this was new to him, but to you it was another world. First, your standard room was more like a palace. Canopy bed, clawfoot tub, a small living area that was more comfortable than the one in your apartment. It was like a fairytale come true. “I am so sorry that I have never experienced this before.” You held your hands out in defense, which he quickly took, lacing your fingers together and pulling you into him. It had been a while since you two had stood this close and you remembered how much you missed it.

His smell so intoxicating, his smile simply memorizing. Beautiful, he was beautiful. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” His words caused butterflies. “Then do it.” You challenged and he complied, a soft smile pressing into your lips as he kissed you for the first time in what felt like forever. There was something about the way he moved his lips slow against yours, keeping everything under his control that cause your fingers to tangle into the back of his head. Something about the way his large hands clasped around your hips, holding you so close that you could feel your bodies melting together. It drove you absolutely crazy.

His hand slowly made its way up the back of your shirt, the heat of him causing you to shiver, setting off a fire deep down inside of you. You tried to pull him closer to you, needing more but there was hardly a gap between you two. Getting the hint, his feet began to shuffle, month not leaving yours as he ushered you to the bed. You tugged at his shirt and without hesitation it was over his head and off to the side. The back of your knees met with plush covers and you fell back instantly, being sure to bring the male along with you. That was the first time his lips parted from yours, head dipping down to place soft kisses along your jawline leading down to your neck.

It was almost enough to make you pass out. The way he knew how to pepper kisses along your sweet spot, and how to nip at your collar bones at the perfect time. You almost didn’t hear the open creak open or the sound of Emma gasping as she walked in on something that wasn’t too innocent. “So, I’m taking it you two will be sharing a room?” You heard Tyler asked, your eyes shooting open at the realization of someone else being in the room with you. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Dylan muttered. He took a deep breath before removing his warmth from you, quick to find his shirt and place it back on his body. You let out a sigh and reminded yourself to cuss Tyler out later. “What do you want?” You spat, but that only caused Tyler laugh. “Dinner. But it seems like you’ve planned your own personal menu.” His eyebrows raised at Dylan. “Shut up – We will be ready in ten. Meet you down stairs.” Dylan said as he escorted them out of the room. You heard Emma say something along the lines of “But my suitcase is in there.” Before the door closed behind them.

“Sorry about that.” You watched as Dylan fixed his hair, his locks a tangled mess. “Will we ever get our alone time?” You couldn’t help but ask, your small frame coming to the back of his large as you wrapped your arms around him. “Trust me” – He turned, arms wrapping around you. “I am damned and determined.” Those words made you smile but it was quickly faltered by the knock at the door. “Hurry your asses up!” You rolled your eyes at the amount of childishness you had to deal with. “Let’s go before they break the door down.” You released yourself from Dylan’s embrace, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it already.

However, you were not let down by the choice of dinner. It wasn’t somewhere that was completely classy. Like one of those places you see in the movies where a coat and tie are provided. But it was classy enough for you to fit in and feel comfortable and like you were on vacation at the same time. You were happy to know that the people around you were trying to make this the best experience for you and you appreciated that.  “You don’t mind, do you?” You asked Emma after ordering your drinks and she looking confused until she put the pieces together. “Am I excited about sharing a room with Tyler? No. But, I will let this one slide. Mainly because I want details though.” She shrugged at her words and you let out a small giggle.

You didn’t know what the night was to bring you, but you were nervous enough. You could feel your body tingling at the thought of being with Dylan in the most intimate way possible, and with a daring look from him, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing. You know he wanted to take things slow with you, and you were completely okay with that, but the amount the you needed him grew stronger each day and you knew it was the same for him, even if he did try to deny it. “As if you’d get details.” You found yourself answering, which made Emma give you a look.

The dinner passed by slowly than you intended. Dylan wanted to leave as much as you did, you could tell by the way his foot kept gliding alongside yours, slowly making its way up your leg every once and a while, sending shivers down your spine. “I think we’re going to head to bed.” Dylan’s voice cut through the laughter of the room like a knife, causing everyone around us to quiet. Tyler’s eyebrows raised and Emma made a small noise. You then realized the intense look that was on Dylan’s face and you could swear your stomach was doing flips.

“Y-Yeah.” Did you just stutter? And did he just smile at that? Tonight, was not going the way you planned it, or maybe it was. It didn’t take long for Dylan to stand, offering his hand as you whispered a small “Goodnight.” To your fellow cast members. Your mind focusing on anything and everything Dylan. They said their goodbyes, but you muted them out. Your eyes were connected with golden orbs that held promise and you couldn’t wait to see when he had in store for you. ��

[saltyirishpotato2002]

TSC: Chapter 4 - "No Remorse"

((A/N: Minor violence and blood mentioned! If you're sensitive to that, I suggest you don't read this part! Edits will be made once I'm able to get on my desktop!)) ----------------------- "You don't understand how long I have been waiting to do this, DeMoris! Now quit crying already you pathetic bastard, you did this to yourself!" A deafening snap permeated through the dusky, cold room, and Vincent only winced at the agonized, muffled whimper that followed in reply. Vision blurred with tears, Vincent clenched his eyes shut as tightly as he could muster, knees beginning to grow weak. He never wanted this to happen.. He mentally cursed himself for leading them both into this kind of danger, it had been his fault.. "Oh, and I nearly forgot about you! Van, move your hand-" Something suddenly plunged at Vincent's chest with a furious force, his eyes were forced to fly open as a inhuman noise emitted from his throat in immediate reaction. A searing, hot pain sent the boy in a hysterical sobbing fit, his body twitching and spamming as tears once again- began to blur his useless vision. It was too long before the pain finally began to subdue, the vigorous rattling of chains in the background doing nothing to bring Vincent back to reality- and Wyott stood back to admire his work, a branding iron clenched in his fist with a grotesque, devious smirk. "There's a price you gotta pay when you trespass our territory- and I think that scar will remind you two of that." "F-fuck you.." Vincent spat, chest still heaving sharply with every strained breath he took. Wyott chuckled with leisure, hand shooting out to tightly clench Vincent's jaw, ignoring the dried tears that pathed down his pale cheeks. "You better watch that mouth of yours, kiddo. Unless you want to end up like your friend over there, I hope you take my advice-" With a whir of sudden adrenaline, Vincent's leg swung in a unnoticed upwards motion- sending the man who had mocked him in great agony. The sharp blade that was pressed against Vincent's throat sunk deeper, a thick crimson liquid dripping from the new wound as angered, startled protests arose around him. "D-Damn brat!-" "Boss! We can't hurt the kid any further, we already made the deal," The boy with the raven hair spoke up once again, frowning. "We already caused enough damage- you know what will happen.." Wyott's eyes tilted in a displeased response, turning before he discreetly stepped towards the already damaged brunette. Vick, though still in great torment, yanked and thrashed against the sharp iron bindings that incarcerated him. His dark, ebony eyes were exposed from the sunglasses that shrouded them from sight, his golden pupils dilated and clouded with compelling hatred and wrath. "Bind him to the chair- Let's give him full view of our little show, shall we~?" Wyott snickered as he took hold of the sharp metallic whip, his eyes narrowing down at the chained brunette. Vick returned the sickening glare, arms bound behind his back- and knees tucked under him in an rather uncomfortable position. His own brand was scorched upon his chest, blistered and bright red- though the sloppy lettering was still very distinct. "It amuses me how you think you can just waltz onto our territory, without permission mind you- after what you did to me, DeMoris!" the sickening crack of the barbwire whip came down once again, "Where's your damn remorse?! You should be suffering for life in that jail cell, but your dumbass father didn't like that idea, huh?!" The infuriated screams and protests continued for what seemed like enturnity, the striking of the whip becoming more violent and powerful as time slowly passed. Wyott then halted suddenly, his dusky emerald eyes glued to the very floor he stood upon. His thumb glided against his cheek, rubbing away the tears that trickled down them. He crouched down, making sure he was eye-level to the trembling brunette before him, the end of his whip levitating Vick's tear-stained face up to his own, forcing both of their eyes to directly lock together. "I'm going to make you burn in hell for what you've done." The blonde snarled lowly, retracting his arm back before his fist collided swiftly into Vick's cheek-bone. Vick was slammed back into the moldy brick wall at the unexpected force, grunting in agony behind the soiled cloth gag as the other's knee jabbed harshly into his abdomen. The restraint was soon tore from Vick's mouth as the relentless beatings continued, the brunette doubled over in agony as he violently coughed and dry-heaved- though nothing but blood trickled from his mouth. Wyott was becoming hysterical now, fresh tears gushing from his glistening eyes as all the rage towards the guardian was beginning to release- though this was soon halted as Wyott was arrested back from causing anymore damage he had already inflicted. Vincent could only scrutinize in absolute horror, his eyes bulbous and coated with misty tears, chest heaving sharply as his lungs ached at the lack of proper oxygen. He didn't want this to resume any further- nor did he want to witness all of this either. His cries were only muted by a mere cloth.. "Boss, stop! You're going to kill him!" A panicked voice called out, holding Wyott's arms back before he could strike once again. The blonde went limp in their hold, still deeply staring at the broken brunette. No.. There was still so much more he could do.. He wasn't satisfied. "W-wait...I have one more thing I'd like to do to our dear Victor.." He hissed, an eerie grin raising his cracked lips. He held up the whip beyond his head, adrenaline soaring through him like a deadly poison. "Hey DeMoris! Look me in the eyes when I'm speaking to you!" And he did. Then whip lashed down. --------------------- "Victor! P-please wake up- please! ..O-oh Cladex.." A soft, shaky voice soon awoken his weakened mind, eyes gradually fluttering open at the pressure against his still horribly aching abdomen. An almost inaudible grunted slur arose from his raw throat, the pressure lifting from him almost immediately in reaction. "V-Vick.." A fit of faint, broken sobs caused the guardian to weakly glance up, though he could only open one eye- the other dark and sightless. "..V-Vinny..? What- Ack!" "Don't try to m-move yet! You're too i-injured!" Vincent cried out, clutching at the guardian's clammy hand within his own, struggling to keep the other from moving- in fear of Vick only hurting himself even further. "O-oh my Cladex.. Y-your eye.." That's when the memories all soared back into the core of his mind- all the agony he had previously endured hitting him like a wave of iron bullets. A dark, crimson fluid trickled down his cheek, an aching, throbbing pain in his brain forcing him to emit a strained, quelled whimper. The little energy he possessed had already left his body, and he struggled to surpress the tears pricking at the very corner his eye. "...V-Vin, are you h-hurt..? W-where's the c-compass...?" Vick choked, his breathing becoming a faint rattle of breaths as he struggled to intake oxygen. Vincent hesitantly held up the rusted gold capsule, which was decorated with cracks and filth from its previous encounter with Wyott- the needle wildly spinning in all known directions from inside its glass barrier. Vick felt his heart drop, a deep frown gracing his lips as guilt churned inside his core like a bundle of weighted stones. "...They t-took all of our money too.. " Vincent continued, his eyes stuck to the floor as his back arched forward- giving Vick a saddened smile. "...I-I'm so.. I'm so s-sorry.." A congested sniffle caught the younger's attention, his misty pink orbs shifting over to Victor- his own heart throbbing painfully against it's boney chamber. Fresh tears swelled in Vick's eyes, though they were clenched tightly shut before any could fall. "This is all m-my fault- I'm n-not suppose to let this happen!" "..Oh Vick.." Vincent sighed inaudibly, heart aching tenderly at the guardian. He gently levitated the other's head onto his lap, brushing away the stray tears that stained Vick's cheek. "H-hey, calm down- everything's alright.. " "...I w-wish I could believe you, V-Vinny.." Vick's voice slowly started to trail off to nothing, struggling to keep his eyes from fluttering back close as drowzyness overtook his body. "I'm too t-tired to argue.." He mumbled, whimpering lowly as his whole body was numb with the agonizing throbs of unrelenting pain. His back and belly were decorated with deep, scaring scratches and bruises, his face showing to be no better as his nose was possibly broken- darkened bruises marking his cheekbones as well. "Hey, don't fall asleep on me, Victor! Your wounds need to be treated- who know w-when those objects have been properly cleaned.." "Uuugh.. " Moaned Vick lowly, eyes creaking open slightly as Vincent levitated his head gently so he could shakily stand back up, still unconsciously wearing the guardian's over-sized jacket from before the incident. Vick desperately tried to sit up as well- though trembling greatly from lack of energy, his attempts were fortunately successful. The graveled, stone ground was quite painful to lay on, especially when those hideous blood-coated scratches covered his entire backside. "...The-they locked us I-in here, d-didn't they..?" "Y-yeah.. But unfortunately for them- I have a key!" Vincent held up a wired bobby-pin between his fingers, a proud grin raising upon his pale cheeks. Vick couldn't help but return the weakened smile, leaning against nearby wall as he silently observed the younger boy. Moments gradually ticked by as the albino fiddled with the lock. But, slowly and surely, it eventually clicked open, earning a relieved gasp from Vincent in a immediate reaction. "Ahh- finally! D-did you see that- V-Vick!" Vincent cried out before stumbling over to his guardian in a fit of panic- who had collapsed back to the ground, unconscious. Taking notice of the shallow, rattling breaths the brunette struggled to make, Vincent knew he had no time to waste. He immediately gathered up all of his belongings- as well as Victor's cracked sunglasses. "I hope I can find an emergency healer s-somewhere.. " He whimpered, his whole body forced in a fit of tremors as he desperately struggled to lift up his unconscious friend. "If I'm lucky enough, that is.."