5 times Peter passed out in front of Tony + 1 time he passed out alone
Yo, what up. Your girl has two exams this week, but let’s do this instead!
The first time it happened, it sent a revolting wave of shock and fear through Tony. Even now, months later, thinking back to that time, he couldn’t help the rapid increase in his heartbeat.
Tony had his back to Peter, fiddling with a few wires on one of his thrusters. He briefly turned around to ask Peter to hand over a tool from the bench next to the kid.
“M’kay,” Peter replied and Tony reached behind him, holding a hand out for the tool but rather than receiving the item, he heard a resounding bang instead. He whipped around to the unwelcome sight of Peter splayed on the ground, eyes closed.
“Peter!” Tony shouted, as he all but threw the thruster away from him in his haste to get to the kid.
Tony called out the teen’s name a few more times as he ran over. His knees pounded on the ground as he threw himself next to the teen, first checking to make sure the damn kid was breathing. He hovered an ear just a few inches away from the kid’s face, closing his eyes in relief as he felt the small wisps of air against his cheek.
“Peter? Come on, kiddo,” Tony begged, one hand smoothing the boy’s curls back while the either he used to gently place two fingers underneath the boy’s chin to measure his pulse. Fast but steady.
“Alright, you’re okay, kiddo,” Tony murmured if only to himself at the moment. He got himself situated on the floor before carefully pulling Peter into his lap, with Peter’s head resting on his chest and continued to try and wake the kid up.
Guzmán: what? *taking off coat* I told you to wear a thicker sweater but of course you didn’t listen and now *takes Ander’s jacket off of Omar* I’VE got to make sure *steals a scarf from a stranger* you don’t freeze to death *takes off his own shirt* with my body heat.
Can I request bakugous s/o getting hurt in a really serious fight and they find out she’s pregnant when the dr says something like “luckily both you and the baby are okay” and they’re just like “heh??”. Thank you in advance!
I struggled a bit with this one, but I hope it’s okay!
Thank you for the request!
Bakugou sat nervously in the waiting room of a hospital, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped tightly. Lips pressed against his thumbs, he glared off at some random spot on the pristine white walls, his left foot bouncing from the nervous anxiety welling up within him. He couldn’t believe how long this was taking, having been waiting for nearly two hours to be able to see his lover. Every second felt like it was dragging, becoming longer every time his crimson glare flickered up to the digital clock. He had been in a panic since he first got the call that she was injured, leaving work still in his hero costume.
Many people gawked at him, some mumbled about his presence and kids even tried to beg their parents to let them approach. However, not a soul dared to disturb him, his scowl dark enough to deter even his closest friend. He felt as if he were going to vomit, and if anyone but a nurse or doctor approached him, he couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t be leaving with puke all over their shoes. His gloves squeaked under pressure as he tightened his grip, trying to take in a few deep breaths. He couldn’t stand it, this waiting and not knowing how she was.
How serious was it? Was she dead already? Is she in emergency surgery?
Finally, Bakugou’s patience exploded and he stood, yelling out in frustration as he stormed towards the counter, the nurse behind it cowering a bit behind a folder from his rage. “Hey, is it normal practice for you people to not give those waiting a fucking update for hours?! I get a call that my wife is taken to the emergency room, and I have to sit here and wait with no one telling me shit!”
The nurse lowered the folder enough so she could speak, though she was still a bit frightened. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I’ll call a doctor right away.” Bakugou sighed, ripping his mask off his head in frustration as he went back to his chair, speaking back to her in as calm and sincere voice as he could muster. “Thank you. Sorry for blowing up.” He shoved his mask into his pocket, sitting back down into his chair. He could feel the eyes of the others in the waiting room on him, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him right now was knowing how his lover was, and waiting two hours without a single word was destroying him.
After a while of sitting there, tapping his foot, ruffling his hair and quietly complaining how security had made him leave his gauntlets at the door, he saw a doctor coming down the hallway. The look on her face told him she was a bit uncomfortable with her task, especially as her eyes landed on him and her expression contorted a bit in nervous unease. Though, by the time she reached him, she hid her uncomfortable energy quite well, smiling at him pleasantly. Although he wasn’t sure if he needed to, Bakugou stood, trying to control the scowl on his face with no success. “Finally, I’ve been waiting a long damn time with nothing.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, your wife needed immediate care. Please, if you’d come with me, I’ll take you to her.” She was obviously not in the mood for his attitude, turning and walking away without waiting for a response. Bakugou followed, removing his gloves and shoving his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself. It felt like a never ending hallway, and the longer they walked the more he felt like the walls were contorting, closing in on him and spinning. Giving a small shake of his head, he cursed under his breath. Don’t fucking pass out, you idiot. Suck it the fuck up! She’s fine… she has to be.
Eventually, they entered into a room where Bakugou’s wife was laying on a bed, one of her arms all bandaged and held to her chest with a sling. The rest of the damage, besides a few scrapes and bruises on her face, was hidden beneath the bed sheet that covered her body. The bed was propped upright, and she was sipping from a cup of water through a bendy straw, her eyes locked on the window in the room. Though, the instant her eyes landed on Bakugou she let out a hoarse gasp, quickly putting the cup down. “Katsuki!”
In an instant, Bakugou was at her side, letting his arm hook around her back carefully as he bent forward so she could hug him with her good arm. His hand came up to caress her cheek as she pulled back a bit, her smile sending relief flooding through him. “Have you been waiting this whole time?” Her voice was broken and hoarse, but he was still happy to hear it, his thumb stroking her uninjured cheek gently. “Over two hours, yeah…” She laughed softly, her hand running down his arm. “I was told you had a bit of a fit.”
Bakugou felt a bit of heat rise into his ears, sitting down on the edge of the bed where there was some space. “Ah, yeah. I mean, I waited forever with no fucking word, I was getting anxious. I just… exploded I guess.” Her smiled grew, holding his hand tightly. “As is your nature, Katsuki. I told them to get you, I didn’t want to hear the results of what’s happened to me without you here.” Bakugou nodded, looking back towards the doctor expectantly. Now holding a clipboard she must have gotten from somewhere, the doctor gave a small smile. “Well, it really is all good news. The only bone you’ve broken is in your arm, we will bring xrays in for you later to see.”
She gave a small pause, but when there was silence, she continued. “There are multiple bruises, cuts and scrapes along your body, basically from head to toe but most are superficial. You do have some stitches in the areas that were already pointed out to you when we moved you, again nothing serious as long as they are kept clean and taken care of. So, all in all, you and the baby are going to be just fine.”
Bakugou felt confusion flood through him, glancing down at his wife before back at the doctor. “The baby? Are you making fun of me?” He pointed to himself, almost to the point of taking actual offense when the doctor quickly shook her head. “W-what? No sir, I mean… You didn’t know?” Bakugou’s gaze met back with his wife, who was just as stunned. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, her eyes beginning to tear. “I’m pregnant? You’re bullshitting me?” Bakugou couldn’t help a short chuckle from escaping his lips at her vocabulary, finding it funny in the moment how she was the one cursing.
The doctor nodded, glancing between the two. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I can get an ultrasound in here, if you’d like.” Although he felt like he might implode in on himself, Bakugou looked down at his wife, who was silent for a moment before she nodded. “Please.” With that, the doctor left the two alone, staring at each other in pure bewilderment. Bakugou spoke first, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, unable to help a smile from crossing his lips. “Well shit.” Still covering her mouth, his lover began to cry, though a smile was obvious behind her fingers. “Holy shit!”
She squealed in her hoarse voice, sitting back up to hug him the best she could with one arm. Bakugou caressed her happily sobbing form to him gently, one hand coming to rest on the back of her head.
“We’ve been trying so hard-” She spoke through hiccups. “And we didn’t even notice! How stupid! I’m so happy! But oh my god, I could have hurt it today, so I’m sad!”
Bakugou scoffed, pulling himself away from her to cup her cheeks gently, making her look up at him. “Don’t think that way. What happened today wasn’t your fault, you weren’t even supposed to be on patrol… What do you think it is?” Sniffling, she glanced around a bit, starting to calm. “I think… it’s a boy.” Bakugou kissed her forehead gently, finding himself overwhelmed with soft adoration for her. She was safe, as was the child, and he was over the moon. “A boy… I agree.”
“With my quirk.”
“That I don’t agree with.” Bakugou let his his forehead rest against hers gently. “Damn it, I fucking love you. You idiot.”
He knew he shouldn’t be missing you right now. He really shouldn’t. He had enough on his plate right now. But when he was lying in bed, at three in the morning, completely sober and missing you more than he had since the two of you had split about a month ago, he couldn’t help it. Really, he should be over it. Jung Jaehyun, the campus heartthrob, who could probably have anyone he wanted. And yet, here he was, at three in the morning, thinking about you.
He thought about the way you looked on the last good night the two of you had had together- the way you laughed in the little studio he always let you hang out with him in. The way you almost knocked over some expensive equipment and got super flushed and embarrassed about it, no matter how much he reassured you that it was okay, it didn’t fall, and even if it did break… he had his best friend Johnny to replace it, anyway. He remembered the way you perched yourself in his lap while he was editing some audio, his arms wrapped around your waist, his pillow-y lips pressed to your shoulder blade, how he usually held you when you guys cuddled. He remembered the way you shivered when his fingers traced the tattoo coloured on your thigh he knew was hiding beneath the cotton of your loose black sweatpants. He remembered the way you intently listened to the audio clips he showed you, giving your honest feedback.
He remembered how red you got when his close friends, Johnny and Yuta, had walked in on the two of you slowly sharing kisses, and how he himself just brushed it off with one of his cheesy grins that really worked its way into everyone’s heart. He remembered the way Yuta threw a wink at him when they left after dropping off the coffee they had brought him to help him concentrate on getting his project done. He remembered the way you had mumbled, ‘that was so embarrassing’ even though his friends had seen plenty of PDA between the two of you before- you guys had been together for almost a whole year.
Almost a whole year. That’s what had killed him. It’d been his longest, most serious relationship, ever. He was never really one for long term relationships before- that was, before he met you. People would say that you were totally opposites of each other, but that wasn’t so. Outside of his extrovert personality, he was really down to earth, and like you, could spend the whole day on the couch, next to each other, reading books, or painting something. And that’s how you spent a lot of your afternoons, especially on your rainy days off.
He sat up, pushing his dirty blonde hair out of his drowsy eyes- he hadn’t slept the slightest bit of sleep, unable to let the past die. No matter what he did- and he really hadn’t done anything to get over you, to be fair- he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. About the two of you. About what could have been. If things hadn’t gone up in flames.
He didn’t exactly process the snap decision he made next, rolling out of the covers wrapped loosely around him, pulling one of his big black hoodies on, and just some old sweatpants that he usually reserved for cozy days in. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he was. Jaehyun grabbed his phone off the bedside table and shoved it into the deep pockets of his pants and hurried out of the dorm room, trying to be as quiet as possible- his roommate (Taeyong) hadn’t come home from work yet- he worked grave shift- but the place was finally starting to quiet down. Midterms would be coming up soon, so surprisingly, people were taking it pretty seriously. He pulled up his hood as he hurried over your place.
Your dorm. A place where he’d spent hours upon hours upon hours inside. Your dorm, where he’d dropped you off after kissing you for the first time. Your dorm, where’d you’d stayed up with each other until four in the morning, until five in the morning, until the sun rose into view in your windowsill. Your dorm, where you’d spent hours binge watching Friends together, with takeout pizza, other times takeout Chinese food from this wonderful place down the road that delivered.
His knuckles gently tapped on the door, not yet able to wrap his mind around what he was really about to do. He knew he shouldn’t be here, you might have someone over, or you were asleep- unlikely, he knew how much of a night owl you were. And he was considering turning right back around and just going back to bed after taking a sleeping pill… but then there you were there, and he couldn’t act like nothing happened. Hair slightly mussed. An old tee-shirt. Sweatpants. You didn’t have the look of deadness on your face though, so that means he didn’t wake you up. However you did look groggy when you opened the door. And then you didn’t, when you realized that it was him.
“Jaehyun.” it wasn’t audible. Only your lips mouthed the syllables. He loved the way your lips looked forming his name, like something sacred.
It took everything in him to resist framing your face with his big hands and pressing his lips against yours. But he knew the longing was written all over his face- and he knew that you saw it. “Baby.” he mumbled, his chest suddenly very, very tight. He could barely speak. Everything hurt. It really did. He got lucky and didn’t have to see you anywhere besides anytime he closed his eyes.
“What are you doing here? It’s 3:00 AM-”
“And you were on my mind. I had to see you.” it came out before he could stop it. It came out like word vomit, he couldn’t stop it. It just tumbled out of his mouth.
You were visibly shaking, even though it wasn’t particularly that cold- and his hand lifted, as the words, “can I hold you?” escaped from him.
You looked at him. He looked at you. You looked at each other. And barely moving your head, you nodded at him. And suddenly, you were being pulled into his arms, Jaehyun holding you as close as possible without hurting you. He didn’t want to be apart from you. He didn’t want this moment to end, even though he was so overwhelmed. He knew you had every right to be angry with him. But- “God, I missed you,” he breathed, hand cupping the back of your head for comfort.
“I missed you, Jae,” your voice was shaky, like you were about to start crying. And that broke his heart, more than anything.
He held you tightly, whispering so softly in your ear, “come back home.”
Summary: It wasn’t supposed to be a year of firsts, but then you met Bucky and everything started to fall into place.
Request: Can you do a Bucky x Reader college AU?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Sappy sweet fluff, implied sex (no explicit description)
Word Count: About 4k
A/N: I had a crazy influx of people wanting more, so here we are!! I hope you all enjoy this completely and totally fluffy follow-up, detailing the progression of your relationship with the soft healing Bucko. Please let me know what you think!
You didn’t realize until you were in the building what “team” really meant when he mentioned it all that time ago. Certainly not rugby, that’s for sure. You should have guessed, but to be honest, you had been so wrapped up in him you weirdly hadn’t thought about it much.
You and him had created a bubble, an intimate one built for two, away from the world and the other people in it. It was a gentle and safe place for you, and gentle and healing place for him. You life had become school, your little Italian restaurant, and Bucky. But that didn’t mean you could ignore the rest of the world forever.
The world ended up being quite the group of his friends, gathered in an upstate New York compound. It was a large and bright estate, with sleek rooms of glass, modern technology at every turn, and large windows that brought the lush green indoors. It seemed far away from the rustic little Italian place you usually called home, but the gracious, smiling faces within had a certain hominess to them too actually. You chose to think of them in the same kind of wavelength as customers, trying your best to handle the rather intimidating pedestal you put them on in your mind.
“He’s told us next to nothing about you,” Natasha Romanoff said to you with a smile, not as bright as the grey light streaming through the lounge windows, but certainly warmer. “Which shouldn’t be surprising at all, knowing him.”
Greetings ^__^ I have a request? Aizawa's girlfriend getting jealous over Ms Jokes flirting with him? She tries to hide her jealousy? Haha thank you
Hey there, sweetie! (˘▾˘) Nice to see a request on Aizawa again heheh. I love me a Dadzawa. ಠ⌣ಠ
Thanks for sending this in! I hope you like it! (｡◕‿ ◕｡)
Aizawa Shouta / Eraserhead
There was a distant look in your eyes that bothered him.
Aizawa had thought that the two of you taking some time off to go on a date after so long would bring a smile to your face, but somehow he was wrong. You were all smiles when he arrived at your door to pick you up. You were still all smiles when the diner you’ve been wanting to go to was full and the line was miles long because you’d forgotten to make a reservation. You were still all smiles when the two of you had to settle for a nearby izakaya that didn’t have a non-smoking section, even if he knew you hated the smell of cigarette smoke.
He ran all the day’s events through in his head, from the time he left his apartment to meet you until the present moment where he was following two steps behind you with a cart in the grocery store. He was early for your date. The izakaya the two of you went to for dinner had the best grilled chicken skewers. The izakaya even had free edamame, and you love edamame. You went to the restroom after that. He was waiting for you in front of a clothes store. After that–
Ms Joke was talking to him while he was waiting for you to come out of the restroom. You definitely overheard the conversation, especially the parts where Ms Joke would nonchalantly slip in a marriage proposal that had no weight to it.
Aizawa let out an annoyed groan. You paused in your attempt to put the bars of chocolate you were holding into the cart. “Too much?”
He shook his head, taking the chocolate from your hands and putting them all in the cart. Aizawa emptied the entire row of your favourite chocolate bar for good measure, and said, “My treat.” He stood there for a moment to gauge your reaction. It eased the heaviness in his chest when he spotted the beginnings of a smile on your lips as you counted all the bars of chocolate in the cart with your eyes.
“I’m sorry. Was I being moody?”
Aizawa leaned his elbows on the handle of the cart, and leaned close enough to brush his lips against your temple. “A little bit. You had me worried there.”
You put your hand to his cheek and returned the kiss, and gave him two kisses extra. “I’m sorry I was jealous, Shouta.”
He turned his head to catch your lips with his when you leaned in again, and you chuckled as you pulled away. “I love you, Y/N. You don’t have to be embarrassed to ask for a reminder. I’ll say it as many times as you want.”
Aizawa straightened up and held your hand, pushing the cart with his other hand. He allowed himself a small smile when you walked closer to him than you did earlier, close enough for your shoulder to brush against his arm every now and then, his footsteps in sync with yours. And you were all smiles like you were when he first showed up for your date. Like you should always be.
Andrew’s a quiet librarian who treats his library much like how he treats his person. He spends his time searching for the color blue in hopes of finding something real, but when he meets Neil Josten, he finds that maybe blue isn’t the only thing out there.
Or, Neil’s a kaleidoscope of colors, and Andrew gets a lesson in self-care.
Character: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Angst/Fluff Words: 2.4k [Masterlist]
Plot: After a tough night, you find yourself locked out of your apartment at 3AM. Namjoon, your neighbor, runs into you just in time though.
a/n: This is my first time writing for bts. I’ve only ever written for GOT7, but Namjoon’s mono playlist is hitting me right in the feels! I can’t stop listening!
“I’m sorry I texted you so late, I’ve just been so down lately. I just feel like I’m not a good person anymore,” she let out a sigh, as you handed her a cup of hot tea.
You gave your friend a weak smile, shaking your head.“I wish I could do more to make you feel better,” you muttered, rubbing at your own cup of tea. “All I have are snacks.”
You let out a nervous giggle, but she shook her head in opposition.“No, I feel a little better already. You always have good vibes about you. I wish I could be more like you.”
You scrunched up your face, looking back at your cup of tea, your kitchen lights flittering in the tan translucent liquid.
She sighed again. “Things with my mom have just gotten complicated. I guess I just felt more pain and guilt than usual. It’s been making things at work harder.”
“I’m sorry,” you uttered, biting at your lip at the uselessness of your words. “I guess this is cliché, but maybe focus on the little things that are going well?”
You let those words slip out like practice. You were used to saying lines like these. Though you never believed them yourself, they seemed to make your friends feel slightly better when you said them.
“I guess,” she relented, sipping at her tea. “I know this is a phase, but I can’t see the end of it in sight. It’s hard not to feel so stuck.”
“I think it’s okay that you’re feeling this way. The things with your mom—that’s a lot to handle for anybody. If you feel sad or angry or tired, that’s honestly okay, because anyone in your position would be overwhelmed with those feelings too.” You looked at your friend with a smile. “You’re strong, you know that?”
She smiled, tears swimming in her eyes. “Thanks.”
“And you’ve survived so much already. It may not feel like it, but you’ll get through this too. Plus, you have me to lean on.”
“Ah, Y/N, you’re too good to me,” your friend cooed, a tear slipping down her cheek.
You clicked your tongue at her, sending her a playful grin before grabbing the keys she left on the counter. “Come on, I’ll drive you back home.”
“You’re the best, Y/N,” your friend spoke as the two of you set out into the quiet city streets at 2AM.
“I’m just being a friend,” you spoke up, eyes trained on the road.
“Remember in high school when we used to have talks like these on our walks home?” She sighed at the nostalgia of her own words.
You let out a sigh too, though for other reasons. She always mentioned this moment during your talks together, though your perspective of the story was never as romantic.
“I used to ask what was in that head of yours,” she went on. “And you said ‘a song’! I was so appalled! Like here I was drowning in my teenage angst and you were just like a forest nymph with a song in your head! Did you know how much I wanted to be you?”
You chuckled emptily out of habit. That was your answer at the time, but really it was your way of protecting yourself. Back in high school, you masked your sadness and self-deprecation with giggles and clichés. You wanted to become that kind of person, almost like self-hypnotism. You desperately dressed yourself in optimism in the hopes that people would paint the romantic picture of yourself that you couldn’t. To be honest, it wasn’t so far from your current self.
“I was naïve then,” you whispered.
“Your outlook on life is so pretty. I wish I could see the way you see the world.”
You shook your head with a frown. If only she knew.
“The way you feel the world is probably the purest,” you spoke up as you entered her apartment parking lot. “I wish I had your honesty.”
“See, there it is again, your positivity!” she giggled before sighing. “Thanks for driving me home, Y/N. You always know how to make me feel better.”
You shook your head with a small smile, handing her the keys back.“Go get some rest now,” you waved her off before turning around to hail yourself a cab back home.
The ride back was quiet.You leaned against the window, the dull street lights washing your skin in pale yellow. Today was later than usual, but the routine was mostly the same. It wasn’t just her. Most of your friends were this way—only reaching out to you when they needed help or someone to vent to. Back in high school, you fed off of their need for you. It was your only measure of self-worth and so you built the foundations of your friendships on essentially, being used.
When was the last time anyone contacted you just to hang out?
When was the last time they asked if you were okay?
Because you weren’t.
High school was only the beginning of your depression and anxiety. You were in your worst moments only three months ago, having major breakdowns almost every night. But your friends looked at you with a rosy lens as they asked you to sit, time and again, like their therapist, to listen to their troubles, absorbing all their bad energy while they walked away feeling better.
You exited the cab quietly, footsteps heavy as you walked back to your apartment on the fourth floor.
You knew you were being selfish. The things you did—they were just ordinary things that a friend should do.
And this was an image you perpetuated by not speaking honestly, by continuing to feed them this image of yourself you knew was false. Nevertheless, you felt resentful.
And you felt guilty for feeling resentful.
You really wish you could be the amazing person they thought you were.
You let out a breath as you stood in front of your apartment door, hands digging into the pockets of your joggers.
“Fuck,” you groaned, banging your head softly against your door at the realization that you had forgotten your house keys inside your bedroom.
You sunk to the floor in defeat, glancing at the time on your phone. It was almost 3AM.
Closing your eyes, you sighed. Four hours until you could call your landlord. You frowned, feeling the migraine beat against your skull as your chest began to fill with the familiar feeling of disappointment and anger at yourself.
“Is everything okay?” a voice spoke up.
Eyes opening, you jerked yourself upright to see your neighbor, Namjoon.
The two of you never spoke much, only exchanging the obligatory “hello” whenever you passed by each other, which wasn’t often since he seemed to work late into the night most days.
You let out an embarrassed smile as you pointed to your door. “I locked myself out.”
He chuckled, dimples deep in his cheeks. “It’s okay, Y/N, happens to the best of us. You want to wait inside my place?”
He looked at you, eyebrows raised as his hands pushed his door open to give you a peek inside. Glancing around your empty hallway, you got ready to decline his offer, but Namjoon let go of his door, and instead offered his hand to you.
“It’ll make me feel better if you weren’t sitting outside by yourself. Please,” he added, eyes softening as you looked back at him.
Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to help you up. His hand felt warm against yours. His hand squeezing yours before letting go didn’t get past you either. You figured it was because you looked so pathetic.
“Excuse the mess, I haven’t had guests over in a while.”
You chuckled, shaking your head at the sight of his “mess” which was really just a few books scattered on his couch and a couple sweatshirts hanging off the backs of his kitchen chairs. The layout of his studio apartment was the same as yours but his looked completely different, dressed in black and grey décor. You took in a breath, warm and earthy tones filling your lungs. This was definitely a man’s apartment.
“Sit, make yourself comfortable,” Namjoon gestured to his couch. “You want anything to drink? Water, tea, soju?”
You glanced at him in surprise only to break into a giggle seeing that he was joking. He smiled at your amusement, glad you found it funny.
“I’ll just have water.”
You watched from your seat in the living room as Namjoon rummaged through his kitchen. Your hands were sweaty with nerves. Obviously he was just being a kind neighbor. You would’ve done the same if you saw any one of your neighbors locked outside their homes. You’d be lying if you said you were never interested in Namjoon though. Anyone who had eyes knew Namjoon was handsome. Paired with his sweet personality and mysterious lifestyle, it was only natural for you to be at least a little smitten.
A part of you was extra curious about him though because he lived the closest to you. It was fascinating, the fact that you two shared walls to each other’s homes and yet knew nothing about each other.
Sometimes, you would lean against your wall during nightly work sessions and wonder to yourself what he was doing on the other side of the wall. During your late night break downs—it was silly but—you found solace in knowing there was a warm body so close by.
Despite being very alone in your own apartment, in your life really, you felt the tiniest bit of consolation knowing Namjoon was alone in his apartment too, just one wall away.
You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of glass against his coffee table. You looked curiously at the green bottle.
“I know I was joking, but somehow I feel like soju would make you feel better tonight,” Namjoon chuckled, handing you a shot glass.
You weren’t much of a drinker and definitely not for soju, but you found yourself agreeing.
“So were you waiting outside for long?” he asked as he poured the clear liquid into your glass.
“No, I was just there a few minutes before you. Why were you coming back so late?”
You clinked glasses before drinking. Your eyes shut tight as you swallowed the bitter taste, a subtle warmth settling in your stomach.
“Coming back from the studio,” he answered after finishing. “I’m helping a friend produce an album.”
You nodded, trying to hide your surprise at discovering his occupation. It made sense though. It was rare to not hear music coming from Namjoon’s apartment.
“And you? It’s unusual for you to be out so late.”
You couldn’t tell if it was Namjoon or the alcohol, but you felt your cheeks warm up. “I, uh, was driving a friend home.”
“This late at night? You’re a good friend.”
You shook your head, fiddling with your shot glass. “Trying to be.”
“Driving your friend home at 2AM? I would’ve kicked my friend out and gone to sleep,” Namjoon chuckled, refilling the glasses. “You’re definitely a better friend than me.”
“Well, if you put it like that,” you joked, eyes crinkling playfully. He smiled, mirroring yours before clinking glasses again.
“Y/N, I always wanted to get to know you better,” he admitted.
You chuckled, scooting to the edge of your seat to pour him another glass. “Are you drunk already?”
He laughed, giving you a playful eye roll. “I mean it, though. You make me curious.”
“Trust me, I’m nothing to be curious about,” you replied, taking another shot.
“Prove me wrong then,” he challenged, an eyebrow raised in playful defiance.
“Well, I live alone, no pets, parents are living happily in the next town over. I go to the office every day, eat, then sleep. Rinse and repeat, every single day.”
Namjoon leaned into the couch, smiling at you sleepily. “That makes me even more curious.”
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re lying.”
“Nope, I want to know what your favorite food is, if you have house plants, what do you do at your office, and what is the name of that drama you watch every Saturday morning? I swear, you get very into it, and I have to watch it now.”
You blushed, eyes widening. “You can hear me?”
He chuckled, sitting up to pour more alcohol. “Sometimes. Your bedroom seems to be connected to mines.”
You nodded, taking the shot that he poured for you. You hoped it would wash away your embarrassment. You wondered what else he could hear.
“I can hear your music sometimes,” you muttered, trying to fill the sudden quiet.
“Really?” Namjoon’s eyes widened.
“It’s muffled, but I can hear the melodies,” you explained, seeing his apprehension. “Don’t worry though, you’re a good DJ.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry if it wakes you up or anything.”
“No, no,” you smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m glad for your music. It makes me feel less alone.”
“Me too…I mean, the hearing your dramas and stuff, and when you laugh really hard to a scene. I don’t know what’s going on but I laugh too sometimes.”
You chuckled, though at the back of your mind you knew if Namjoon could hear you laughing, he could probably hear you crying too. It filled you with more embarrassment. But if Namjoon had heard your breakdowns in the past, he didn’t let on that he did. For that, you were grateful.
“I’m glad we feel the same way.”
Namjoon glanced at you with a soft smile. “Maybe we could watch something together one day. Or like, you could come to my studio and listen to the songs more clearly.”
You blushed at his invitation.
“I mean, just if you want to…not to overstep any neighbor boundaries or anything,” Namjoon fumbled, clearly misunderstanding your silence.
You chuckled, pouring out another shot. “We’ve already shared a bottle of soju, Namjoon. I think this makes us friends now.”
You could see his shoulders visibly relaxing at your words. He smiled, raising his glass to yours.
“I hope I can become a friend you can lean on,” he spoke up, eyes staring into yours meaningfully.
You softened, smiling back gratefully as you accepted his unspoken promise. And with a light clink of glasses, you savored the bitter taste on your tongue before it quickly turned to warmth.
“Ok, ok. What do you want?” Eddie sighs, shaking his head slightly, annoyed.
Venom slithers out from under Eddie’s neck, the black tindrils curling around just slightly.
Eddie heads over to the freezer, pulling out the frozen tator tots and tossing them onto some foil. He turns on the oven and waits for it to heat up. Venom curls up from his neck and shoulders, forming his head right next to Eddie’s.
Eddie glances over, a warm feeling bursting through his chest. He knows Venom can feel it, too.
Venom nudges his chin in affection, acknowledging the warmth of emotion.
Eddie and Venom curl up on the couch, the tator tots long gone and the movie, who Eddie has forgot the name of, halfway over.
Eddie just grins. Warmth starts to spread through his system and along his skin, and he knows that Venom is hugging him, sending warmth and love through touch.
Eddie starts to doze off, and soon, he’s fast asleep.
Black tindrils slither up his neck in a quiet touch, and Venom makes himself comfortable between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. He’s content and warm.
They sleep through the night and clear through the morning. Thank God it’s Saturday.
“You’re going to college like that?” Scott’s voice stopped you midway, your already anxious heart pounding as you looked down at your apparel- blue trousers, black tank top and a grey shrug.
You: *exasperated* Oh come on! It was the simplest, most effortless look I could come up with. *pause* It took me three hours last night to come up with this.
“Why? What’s wrong? Is this too much? Is it the top? Wait it’s the shrug, right? Should I take a jacket? It’s just… I haven’t been to college in three years I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do here.” You blabbered as your body followed Scott into the elevator, out of it, into the living room and then finally into the huge kitchen where Bucky was showing Peter how to cut onions without tearing up. “Relax!” Scott exclaimed as he opened the door to the fridge, carefully loosening the ‘Pancake Princess’ magnet from it and smoothly tossing it to make it stick to Bucky’s arm with a clink.
Immortal Plans- Ani has a talk with his older brothers.
himself as he dragged the raven by the ear and pulled the other by
the hand, Anakin glared straight forward as Xanatos kept trying to
get loose but each time he did Anakin just pinched down more harshly
on his ear.
You’d think the
man would just learn not to struggle eventually.
At least Feemor was
cooperating peacefully and just following along but then again,
Anakin had him by the wrist and not the ear, dragging him around like
a naughty teen.
Several knights who
saw them struggled not to laugh though they quickly disappeared when
Anakin’s angry glare found them.
arrived at Anakin’s quarters where he dragged them in and shut the
door, locking it with his own code lock as Xanatos straightened up
and rubbed his ear, snarling in anger.
Sithspit Skywalker?!” He growled out, turning to him as Feemor just
peacefully settled down in one of the two couches Anakin had, the
blond watching curiously. “Why the hell did you do that? Dragging
me all the way from the salle through the templ-”
you want to ‘fix’ him.” Anakin snapped, interrupting the coming
rant while crossing his arms over his chest.
Xanatos froze, hand
still over his burning red ear as he stared at Obi-Wan while Feemor
sat up from his slouched position. “…What?” He whispered. “What
are you talking about?”
Growling a bit,
Anakin dug his nails into his own upper arms to avoid the temptation
to hit the other. He knew that wasn’t the impression that Xanatos
had wanted to give their little lineage brother but that was the one
Obi-Wan had clearly gotten, too young to really understand the
implications of death only that Xanatos didn’t think he was enough
as he was. “Qui-Gon asked me to padawan sit, since I’m the
youngest and remember what it was like to be young.” He glared at
“Go on.” Feemor
murmured, not the least bit perturbed that Qui-Gon had asked the
younger blond after what happened last time while climbing the tree.
Xanatos did a funny
little face spasm but didn’t comment.
the older man an annoyed glance, Anakin sighed and dropped his hands
from their crossed position to run his fingers through his hair
instead, all ire fading out of him replaced by just tiredness. “While
I was looking after him he
said he liked it better when I was looking after him alone,” He
mumbled, leaning against the wall to remove his boots since he
doubted he was going to leave his quarters anytime soon. “Because,
and I quote, ‘Xanatos keeps wanting to make me better cause he
doesn’t like how I am’.” He muttered bitterly as he dropped his
If Xanatos looked
pale on a normal day it was nothing against what he was now. “That’s
not, I didn’t mean to…” He stuttered out.
Feemor just dropped
his face in his hands, as if he had expected this to happen.
“Yeah well that’s
the meaning Obi-Wan got from it all,” Anakin grumbled, heading to
the free couch to drop down on. “He doesn’t understand death
Xanatos, he’s six and all he can see is you not liking him as he
is, that he somehow needs to be improved before you really like him.”
He huffed out, dropping one arm over the back of the couch to stare
at the ceiling.
There was a shift
of clothes and then a squeak of coils as Xanatos sat down on the
couch beside Feemor too.
None of them said
anything for several moments.
Feemor finally said with a deep sigh. “We all love him, he’s
bright and warm…and six,” He murmured, glancing at both of his
younger lineage brothers with quiet intent that caught both their
attention. “He’s little and won’t leave the temple for years to
come. He won’t die for years to come. For us years passes in the
blink of an eye sometimes yes but Obi-Wan? Its going to be a long
time for him and that means we have time to figure out something…but
lets put that aside around him.” He murmured.
pale as a sheet in the sunlight, Xanatos nodded a bit. “I didn’t…
intend for him to… I just don’t want to loose him.” He finally
admitted as he sat there on Anakin’s couch, his voice faint with the
shock he had gotten.
he’s just a kid. He doesn’t see the world like we do.” Anakin
breathed out deeply.
All three mulled
over that, each aware that around Obi-Wan their immortality did not
matter as much because Obi-Wan did not have the concept of death or
time as they did and wouldn’t for a long while.
It was Stiles’ turn to look at Scott as if he were crazy. ‘Wow yeah OK I’m just going to do that and ignore the fact that Derek Hale is a) in a relationship with crazy she bitch Kate Argent, b) is straighter then a stripper pole and c) is so far above my league that he’s playing for the Mets and I’m in little league.’
Darkness closed in around you as you walked through the leaves and the mud, huffing quietly to yourself. “Be on the look out for any…creatures.” Snape’s deep voice filled through your ears, and warmth spread through your body.
“Your voice sounds like a fire place.” You commented, and the Professor stopped abruptly.
“What did you just say?” With rolled eyes he turned to you, his head tilting to the side as he scoffed. Severus’ face contorted into one of aggravation, his lips curling and eyes gleaming with bitterness.
“I said your voice sounds like a fire place. It’s nice.” You began softly, continuing to walk with him.
“Charming your way out of detention will not work with me, Miss (L/N).” He growled with another eye roll, walking deeper into the foggy forest, the eerie tune playing through the air.
“I’m just telling you my thoughts. This walk has been ghastly, Professor. And boring. And you breath really heavy, are you okay?” You grinned, biting down on your lip to hold a giggle.
“Shut up.” He groaned, and both of you stopped walking. A twig snapped to your left and you furrowed your eyebrows, taking a hesitant step towards the potions master.
“What was that?” You asked quietly, furrowing your eyebrows and looking up at him, his back turned to you still.
“No idea.” Snape grumbled, drawing his wand and looking around. “Get closer to me.”
“How chivalrous-“ You heard a growl behind you, turning slowly with widening eyes. “Professor…?” Your lips parted as you saw the magnificently disgusting creature in front of you, growling deeply. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before, horrifying in every aspect of the word. The Mountain Troll stood at about fifteen feet or so, it smelled like rotting flesh and B.O., and its yellow teeth barred your way. “I’m…gonna take that offer now, Professor.” You whispered, stepping towards him until your bodies were pressed together, his chest to your back.
“Jesus Christ.” His deep voice filled your ears and you couldn’t help but feel fear coursing through you at the sight of the slow moving Troll. He picked up the club, swinging it towards you. Both of you ducked, falling into the leaves as Severus searched for his wand, finally finding it and pointing towards the troll. A ringing sounded through your ears at the trolls cry of pain, his thick hand swatting you into a tree, and you groggilly watched the professors lips moving but heard no words. Watching with a blotchy vision, the creature sprinted away and you collapsed agaisnt the man’s chest as Professor Snape crouched beside you.
“Are you hurt?” The dark man looked over you, his eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing.
“Ob-vi-ously.” You mocked his deep voice and grinned at the look of relief that splashed over his face.
“Well enough to make snarky comments, you’ll be fine. Up you go.” He murmured, standing up with you tightly in his arms. You tripped over your own feet, huffing as you caught yourself in his arms. “Very well.” Swiftly, the older man scooped you up into his arms, giving you a curt nod and walking towards the castle.
“You feel like a fire place too.” You whispered, gently pressing your head into the nape of his shoulder.
“Hush with your talking, Miss (L/N).” Severus held you closer to him as you entered the field, passing Hagrid’s Hut and watching as the castle came into your view. “I’ll take you to the infirmary-“
“Please don’t.” You begged softly.
“What? Why?” Snape scoffed, glaring down at you. He suddenly stopped walking, glancing down at you again, an odd look in his eyes. “You’re hurt, and you don’t want to go to Madame Pomfrey?”
“It’s a pride thing, you see. If the Weasley twins find out they’ll mock me relentlessly. And-and I’m the one who mocks them…it can’t be the other way around. Surely you know, Professor.” You coughed out, giving him a look of pure reliance on his next action.
“Very well, then. I’ll take you to my personal chambers-“
“Charming your way out of detention won’t work, Mr Snape.” You mocked his voice once more and the man rolled his eyes, groaning bitterly as he walked down to the dungeons.
“-And clean you up myself.” He finished forceably, aggravated you were being so humorous in a time like this.
“We never got your ingredients, Professor.” You cooed with a frown, limping to the dark desk chair and collapsing into the cushion with a soft huff of relief. “It’s fr-f-freezing in here, Professor!” You cried out, wrapping your arms around your body with a soft huff.
“You’ll get over it.” He rolled his eyes and grabbed his wand, a couple of bandages and a vile of something from a glass cabinet he had standing in the corner, handing the purple liquid to you. “Drink this.” You obediently complied, downing the drink that faintly tasted of grapes and handing him the empty bottle when you finished.
You shivered against the chair, and the professor reluctantly draped his cape over your shoulders. “Is this mine now? You present it to me often, you know. Whats next? You want me to dry clean it, sir?” You joked with a big smile, nonetheless wrapping it around your body tightly.
“That’s tomorrows detention.” He responded without missing a beat.
“Did you just make a joke?” Your eyebrows shot up and you turned to him with a big grin, biting down on your lip.
“Ob-vi-ously.” He drew out, and you could have sworn his lips tilted upwards just for a mere millisecond. A few hours passed and your aching body began to feel slightly better, so you stood up and turned to leave. But he was sitting on a couch, his nose turned into some newspaper, so you silently escorted yourself out, tying his cloak around you tighter and making your way to the (house) common room, walking up to your room through the deserted stairs. It was early in the morning, perhaps one or two.
But when you walked inside you saw Iris, Junie and Mika all awake and laughing, a record player gently playing some wizard music you weren’t very familiar with, a song about dragons or something. “Oh my god!” Mika squealed, and you looked at them oddly, all three girls rushing towards you in unison.
“Wha….t?” You dragged out, eyebrows furrowed and lips curling into a frown.
“That’s Professor Snape’s cape.” Iris grinned like a fool, giving you a pair of wiggling eyebrows.
“It’s just-no-I actually stole it…I-“ But no proper thought would escape your mouth.
“He let you take it. Professor Snape loves his cloak, he wears it all the time. I bet he sleeps with it.” Junie grinned with a little giggle.
“She has a point.” Mika and Iris responded in unison.
With rolling eyes, you defended yourself. “Eh, bugger off you three.”