Jimin stared at the larvae sitting across from him, warily, it was currently trying to eat spaghetti with a knife. He should probably stop it, but that meant touching the thing and then he would—
“Stop looking at my kid like that.” You roll your eyes before replacing her knife with a fork and watching a happy little grin stretch across her face.
“Like what?” Jimin clears his throat.
“Like you’re having an entire internal monologue listing all the reasons you’ll never have kids.” You mutter, using a napkin to wipe stray sauce from Mina’s face.
“I’m not doing that.” He says and he shrinks when you pin him with a hard stare, “What? I’m not! I did that on the drive over here – now I’m just watching in mild fascination at the eating habits of—”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He laughs when you move to get up, he tugs you back down by the wrist and you ignore the butterflies erupting your chest when he takes a second too long to remove his hand, “Will you relax already? You’ve barely spoken to me since we’ve ordered. Tell me about yourself, how have you been how did all of this happen?”
“It’s not exactly exciting.” You sigh, “It’s actually a very long story.”
“Let’s start with the basics then – are you still with her father?” Jimin lowers his voice, sparing Mina a glance.
“He left about as soon as I took the pregnancy test so no.” You laugh bitterly, picking up your own slice of pizza to dig in.
You watch helplessly as Mina nearly swipes her pasta off the table but Jimin is on top of it, grabbing her bowl before it makes its crash landing and sending the little girl a stern look before handing her back her fork. She grins unabashedly.
“Do I know him?” Jimin queries, keeping a careful eye on the brat now that she’s decided to make toys out of the cutlery. He sighs but waves over the waitress, “Do you guys have like one of those coloring sheets for kids or something?”
“Sorry sir.” The waitress sends an apologetic smile before moving to refill everyone’s water. Jimin glares but begrudgingly unlocks his phone before opening one of the few games he has stored.
“She’ll crack your phone.” You say mildly, watching in only half amusement as Jimin glares at your daughter when she keeps pressing buttons.
“I’ll buy a new one.” He snaps before he remembers he supposed to be wooing you.
It was too easy, too easy to fall back into the pattern of your old friendship.
You had begrudgingly agreed to dinner with him, only because in turn he allowed you to pick the restaurant, a quaint little mom and pop pizza parlor not too far from your office that you frequented. It wasn’t anything he was used to, at least not in light of recent events and his acquisition of millions, but it was good. One of those places that hand made their crust, they were popular and bustling with business but still managed to find a seat for you. Jimin took quick notice of the warm, familiar smiles sent your way from the old man working the front of house, going as far to boop the little girl you were toting, on one cherub cheek.
He was scared someone might break into his car in this neighborhood and you could only roll your eyes because this place was a suburban dream compared to where you stayed.
“No you don’t know him.” You say when you find your heart doing weird floppy things at the sight of your daughter and Jimin interacting so causally – it was something you wanted to erase from your memory because it hurt. “He was some guy I met at college, well before I dropped out to take care of Mina.”
“And your parents?” He asks, a frown marring his face at the thought.
“Disowned me when I wouldn’t abort her.” You shrug as though the words didn’t feel like nails clawing their way up your throat – an old wound re-opened but you feigned indifference pretty well now a days. Even you almost believed your lies.
“So who helps you? You don’t get child support or—”
“Jimin.” You say softly, because it’s in your nature to treat him with kid gloves on, even if he is overstepping, “I’ve been doing this for a while now. It’s tough but I manage. I’m fine – we’re fine. Now can we talk about something less, I don’t know, depressing.”
Jimin lets out a long suffering sigh but he relents with a curt nod, you don’t miss the way the muscle in his jaw jumps – and what a chiseled jaw it’s become over time. You nearly lose track staring at it.
“Where do you work at now?” He asks, momentarily distracted by a piece of cheese hanging from his chin. He lets out an expletive before wincing at Mina.
You stifle a grin because it’s so much like the old Jimin you couldn’t help the elation that bubbled over in your chest. Instead you choose to rest your chin in your palm while watching him.
“I sale time shares at a realty office, though I’m sure you already know that since you tracked me down and sent me gifts.” You murmur dryly when he smiles, “It was very Tony Stark of you.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” Jimin says honestly, putting a hand over his heart.
“Mmm.” You hum sarcastically, “So how are your parents, living lavish at the hands of their millionaire son I assume?”
“Living lavish.” He scoffs, “You’ve met my parents. My mom barely let me renovate our old house and only did so because I threw a bitch fit that she wouldn’t accept the beachside bungalow I had lined up for them.”
You grin at the thought of a very stern and self sufficient Mrs. Park arguing with her mogul son, because she probably won… but still you making tsking noise anyway.
“Well, in her defense you can be a bit… frivolous with your spending.” You say, nodding towards the bag of gifts seated next to him.
“I work damn hard to be frivolous. You two always did love ganging up on me.” He glared, “You’re so much like her it’s scary.”
“It’s why she loved me.” You tease back. “I’m her favorite child, even Jihyunnie has accepted it.”
Something changes in his face and his expression is softening. You scramble to change the topic because you knew how easy it was to get caught up in the old days, where things were much easier and there was less pressure on you, less weighing on your mind.
“How is he now?” You ask suddenly and Jimin’s features shutter closed – back to the calm, cool and collected Jimin that had picked you up.
“He’s doing good. He’ll graduate in a year.” He says mildly, “He’s still a brat and beating me up on visits.”
“I would hope so. You need someone to keep you grounded, remind you where you came from.” You harrumph.
“They miss you, you know.” Jimin says quietly, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. He’s taken to staring at Mina who was currently taking about a thousand pictures with his front camera. “My mom misses you. You know how she always complained about being the only woman in the house.”
He looks up at you and it’s your turn to look away. Because you had shoved back so many memories that were associated with him, but now sitting here at dinner, reminiscing it was easy to remember the bond you shared with the elder Park. It was something you also couldn’t have back and again, it hurt knowing that.
“I’m sure she’d love to see you again—love to meet Mina too.” He says softly.
“Jimin.” You say curtly and he returns your tone.
“I don’t think that's—”
“You think too much is the problem.” He sighs, before signaling the waitress for the check, “Just because you… because we ended on rough terms… I know it’s a lot to ask but, I hope you don’t hold that against my parents. You were great to have around and they miss you. I’ve never gotten so much shit over something in my life—you would think that we were actually dating.”
You averted your gaze for the millionth time that night because it was true. Though there was no official label between the two of you, you were caught in an open limbo between more than friends but not quite dating. Even if Jimin couldn’t admit a lot of things to himself he was forced to acknowledge that things had been almost domestic between the two of you – between the sheer amount of time you spent over at each other’s places, or in his bed, lazing around doing nothing. When his parents would ask for his whereabouts it was always the same—
“____.” He says quietly, before handing his credit card off to the server, “Think about what I said, yeah?”
“I will.” You reply with a stiff smile.
The silence that was once comfortable between the two of you had some how shifted to a stilted, and unwelcome one at the mention of the past. You find yourself fidgeting in your seat at the weight of his words, because despite it all it was something that you desperately wanted as well.
“Tell me more about your job,” Jimin says, returning the topic to a lighter subject, it didn’t take a genius to notice how tense you’d gotten at the mention of seeing his family again.
“I’m sure it’s not as exciting as being a billionaire.” You say off handedly, going to sip at your wine.
“Millionaire.” Jimin corrects and you scoff at him, “But being rich isn’t as exciting as you’d expect either.”
“How very modest of you,” you roll your eyes before sucking at your teeth, “I would kill for middle class these days.”
“I could help you get there.” He says lightly with a shrug and your spine straightens, “Not a hand out, a job, ____. I looked into your company the other day—”
“You did what?” You ask, indignantly.
And just like that the switch had been flipped again and you were on your guard.
“Is this really a surprise, you knew I was looking for you, it only makes sense that I would check the companies shares and stocks while I was at it. I know you don’t believe me, but we’re friends and I wanted to make sure that you were doing okay for yourself.”
“No Jimin, we were friends ten years ago.” You correct, ears turning pink at his audacity, “And I know you’re out of practice but friends ask friends how they’re doing, they don’t run a financial background check on them.”
“Hey, I didn’t run a financial background check on you,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even peek at your credit score even though it was right their in front of me.”
You threw your napkin down on the table before narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re a real ass you know that?”
“That may be true but you know as well as I do that you wouldn’t be half as defensive if it weren’t for the fact that the companies going bankrupt.” He says calmly but his knuckles going white around his grip on the table cloth, “They’re going under and you have—”
“Five maybe six months left there, I’m well aware.” You scowl, “but that doesn’t give you the right to invade my privacy like this. And besides, a job? Let me guess you want me to be your assistant so you can bend me over and —”
You chance a look at Mina, who’s still well engrossed with the apps on Jimin’s phone and let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re lucky if you have four months there.” He says mildly, “Looking at their financial statements I can tell they barely have enough to pay you minimum wage, so let me guess you’ve been working there for going on six years and you’ve yet to get a pay increase am I right?”
“God, you’re so condescending.” You laugh bitterly.
“Only when I’m right.” He says, “And for the record, you wouldn’t be working for me. If you think I stand chance getting any work done while you’re around you’d be delusional. I have a friend who owns a small law firm, he’s looking for a secretary and you’ve had more than enough experience doing clerical work.”
“Your head must be impossibly thick if I have to say this again but I don’t need your help,” you glare.
“Think about Mina.” He argues.
“I am thinking about Mina,” you say, much louder than you intend. You clear your throat before lowering your voice, “She’s the only thing I think about and you don’t get to bulldoze in ten years later and try to pick up where things left off. We’re not in high school anymore. This is real life, it’s my life.”
“You’re right, we’re not in high school anymore but things sure haven’t changed, have they?” He spat, “You still have to be in control of everything.”
“Of my life? Yes! Of my daughters life? You bet your ass.” You scowl.
“Fine. You’re coming across loud and clear, you don’t need or want my help.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But at least—”
He stops mid sentence when the shrill ring of your phone pierces through the otherwise comfortably quiet restaurant and you’re shuffling through your purse for your phone. You look up at him before sighing, “It’s work. I have to take this.”
“Hello? Yes, hi Mr. Kim.” You’re already rising to your feet when one chubby hand comes up to clutch your shirt.
“Momma,” Mina calls and it garners both your attention, “It was an accident.”
“Oh no.” You sigh, a frown marring your face as you go to your knees to collect the remainder of spaghetti off the floor, the rest found their way all down the front of her little tank top and you groan, “I’m sorry not you sir, I just—yes I understand the severity of this contract I…. yes sir I'm—”
“Go.” Jimin mouths, before shooing you away with the flick of his wrist. You stare up at him wide eyed, phone still pressed to your ear and an indecisive look marring your face.
Jimin sighs but rises to his feet, lifting you with him and all but pushing you in the direction of the exit before he’s turning to Mina. You send a curt nod of gratitude at him before bustling out and attempting to placate your boss on the phone.
Jimin has never carried a child before. He has especially never carried one covered nearly head to toe in an Italian red sauce delicacy. He had however carried a sack of potatoes and gauging the insufferable little brats weight, she was about the same size. So he applies all the knowledge he’s accumulated in twenty some years of carrying groceries into the house for his mother and keeps the little girl at a giggling arm’s length from his body while he fast walks into the men’s room.
He’s already had her set down on the porcelain countertop before his gaze catches on something in the mirror. A man maybe in his mid twenties is staring at him from the urinal. Jimin’s brows slash down at the inquisitive look before sending him a nod, “What? You’ve never seen a kid before?”
The man is a flurry of movement, zipping up his jeans before sending an apologetic bow at Jimin and shuffling out of the room.
Jimin sighs at the sweet smile Mina’s sending his way, an adorable dimple winking at him, before he rolls his eyes and swipes at her glasses lens where a stray splatter of meat sauce has found its way. He sends her a stern look, “Yah. I bet that smiles gotten you out of a lot of trouble. It won’t work on me.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as you try and explain to your boss for maybe the millionth time (that night) why the Henderson case you got handed a week ago wasn’t moving as quickly as he’d like it.
For all it was worth your boss wasn’t a bad guy, and the company you worked for didn’t cheat you out of money the way Jimin had made it sound. Now, did you deserve a raise after all the time and hours you had put in? Did you need it? Hell yes. But things weren’t always black and white, in fact your entire life seemed to be sat in one huge area of gray.
The company you worked for was family owned and every person in it was sweet, soft hearted, and genuine and all things considered those were good traits to have—except when you were working in the realty field. It was cut throat and competitive. More than once you had seen your boss caught up with loan sharks, renting out time shares at a discounted price to homeless shelters. And then there was the fact that he was just a tad dimwitted, but your heart had gone soft for the old man that had taken both you and Mina under his wing. So you owed him that. You couldn’t give him much but loyalty anyway.
When you returned to the restaurant with a headache you hadn’t had five minutes ago, you look for Jimin to apologize but your footsteps stutter and your heart drops to your belly when you see the two seats still vacant. You turn to the hostess and nearly fall into hysteria when she tells you they left.
Your phone chimes.
Unknown [7:23:45]: meet us at Fro-zone
“What did I say?” Jimin scowls, “One scoop.”
“Your moms gonna kick my ass if I—”
“Jimin.” You call out, hair wind blown from the jog over here and when you meet his gaze he tips his head up at you in acknowledgement.
He was hunched over a whining Mina who had shed her white tank top in place of a pink shirt with a sparkling heart in the middle. He was looking at her sternly and if you weren’t careful you would mistake Mina for one of his business associates with the way he was carefully explaining to her why she couldn’t have more than a handful of sugar before bed—it involved you and him in an oiled up cage match which he would inevitably lose.
You took that as your cue to step in.
“Momma!” She cried gleefully, “Where’d you go?”
“Where did you go?” You retort, poking a finger at her protruding belly and making her jump back with a giggle, “I like your shirt.”
“Jiminnie picked it out!” she grins proudly and Jimin sends a dry look your direction.
“It was either this or the neon pink sweater with seven bows on it and a giant pop up unicorn head—I don’t care how old your kid is, not even she could pull off something so ridiculous.”
“She likes pink.” You shrug but Jimin spots the mirth in your eyes.
“Jiminnie knows a lot of bad words.” Mina tattles and Jimin glares at the little demon. “He owes like ten dollars to the swear jar.”
“The fee’s twenty five scents a swear word just how much did you cuss with my kid?” You cock a brow.
“Is that the only way you’re accepting money?” He retorts with a snarky expression, “Let me stick around after you put Mina to bed and I’ll give you enough material for her college fund.”
You grin but don’t say anything as he leads you to his car.
It isn’t all that much later when he pulls up to your car in the parking garage. A glance back in his rearview tells you that Mina is out cold and you sigh with the thought that she is way too big to be getting carried anymore. You turn in your seat to wake her up but Jimin shakes his head at you before opening his car door and heading to the back.
It’s probably the fact that a man hasn’t carried Mina since she was born that attributes more to the pain in your chest than it is that it’s Jimin. Jimin of all people putting a sturdy hand on the back of your daughters head and tucking her tiny glasses in his hand so she doesn’t hurt her face. He waits for you to unlock the door to your car before setting her down in her car seat and leaving you to buckle her in.
He’s still holding her specs when you turn back to him, fiddling with a small scratch on one of the lenses before handing them back to you.
You can’t quite put a finger on the atmosphere that resonates in the otherwise abandoned parking garage—nonetheless words find their way to your lips that you had no intent of sharing with him.
“I’ll take you up on your offer.” You utter.
“The job?” He brightens at your words and you wince.
“No,” you say quietly. “I… maybe if me and Mina have time we’ll stop by your parents sometime. I’m sure your Mom would love to meet her.”
His expression doesn’t dull at your words, if anything it only gets that much brighter at he mention of his parents and for the briefest of moments your caught up in your old feelings, because this was too much like the old Jimin. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve, and was never sly or cool or charming in a way that wasn’t dorky.
“You really mean that?”
“It couldn’t hurt to rekindle that relationship.” You shrug.
Just a simple edit of @deedee-sims‘s conversion of Max’s Bag from Life is Strange. I removed the “decorations” on the bag. Initially, I thought I could just alpha edit them out, but no, so I made a “new” mesh. It should not conflict with DeeDee’s conversion.
It comes in 8 colors. It is for Adult Females.
I also added a deco version of the bag. It can be found in Decorative -> Sculptures. And is $0.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Mature - 18+ only Summary: Reader prepares the last important details of Chris’ thirty-sixth birthday party, but he can only think of one or two ways he’d like to celebrate this day with her. WordCount: 2.5k Genre: Fluff/Mild smut Warnings: build up; mentions of sex/innuendos, Chris being a dork and a butt guy, slight food play/kink, make out session and language! Author’s Note: I know, Chris’ birthday was yesterday (June 13th), but I actually wrote so much that I had to split this into two parts. The actual smut will be in the last part hopefully up tomorrow. Once again, happy birthday to the Dorito and enjoy! xx
“Dodger, come here,” you whispered and the dog padded out of the kitchen, stopping at your feet. You bent and patted his back as his tail wagged excitedly.
Staring back at your reflection in the mirror of the foyer, you smoothed out your dress - the same summer dress you’d wear on your first date with Chris three years ago - and you applied your cranberry lip balm. You weaved a hand through your hair, pushed up your breasts and you picked up the breakfast tray you’d left on the entryway table.
“What do you think? He’s going to like it, right?” You asked Dodger and laughed at how ridiculous you sounded. My God, I’m talking to a dog.
This is something new I’m trying where the reader is a Lawyer for Tony Stark but after the Avengers get back together after the Accords Ross is still coming after them. Tony Stark wants the reader to get Ross off their backs but what happens when Ross decides to play a little dirty?
“What is this, Tony?” Steve looked from the sheets in his hand.
“It’s a resume.” Steve stared at the man. “Y/N L/N, she’s my go to lawyer. When I met her she had only just started at her firm. She had just finished a case and was handing it in to Hayden Hughes, the Managing Partner at the firm, when I was in his office. Instead of taking me to a senior partner to sign with, he told me to sign with the girl. I’ve never regretted it.”
Steve looked back at the paper. “So you trust her.” It wasn’t a question.
“Listen, Rogers, if there’s anyone you can get you out of your predicament, shall we say, it’s her. Her record runs on a strictly win-only basis.”
“She’s worth a shot, Steve. I may have only met her for twenty minutes once before when she was getting Tony to sign something but she’s a good kid. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone keep him in line as well as she did apart from Pepper.” Bruce looked up from his StarkPad to affirm Tony’s praise of the lawyer.
“Hey! I’m not that bad!”
Natasha spoke up from her quiet conversation with Clint. “You’re only proving his point, Stark. Besides, this L/N lady can’t be that bad; she’s from the best law firm in New York, Hughes and Wood, which means she came from Harvard, the best law university in the country. She’s used to working cases which have high stakes so she knows discretion is key.”
“What’s the worst that she can do? We’re already wanted fugitives.” Wanda quipped in her thick accent.
“Call her, Stark. Let’s see what she can do.”
“No need, Mr Rogers, Mr Stark already called.” You waltzed out the elevator bags scattering your body. “But more importantly, I brought the Chinese.”
“We’ve already eaten.” Steve turned to look at you front on.
You laughed. “Oh that would be a good joke if takeout menus weren’t scattered across the coffee table, members of your team weren’t holding the aforementioned menus, half the people didn’t perk up at the thought of food and I didn’t get all of your favourites.”
“How would you know our favourites? You have never met us.” Wanda queried. Her distrust for you was clear on her face and through her body language.
“Then how can I do this, Miss Maximoff?” You plopped most of the bags on the floor apart from the food. “Crispy Shredded Beef for Mr Stark, Chicken Chow Mein for Dr Banner, Sweet and Sour Chicken Balls for Captain Rogers, Szechuan Spare Ribs for Miss Romanoff, King Prawn Chop Suey for Mr Barton, Honey Pork for Mr Odinson, House Special Foo Yung for Miss Maximoff, Special Crispy Noodles for Mr Vision, Singapore Mixed Meat Chow Mein for King T’Challa, Stir Fried Mushrooms in Black Bean Sauce for Mr Lang, Shrimp Chow Mein for Colonel Rhodes, Beef Shanghai Style for Mr Wilson, Chicken Singapore Noodles for Mr Parker, and finally Crispy Chicken Fillet and Roast Duck Fried Rice for Sergeant Barnes.” You finished as you placed the final tub on the table.
“Oh that’s it. She’s my favourite lawyer.” Clint fist pumped the air dramatically.
You raised an expectant eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you miss the memo? I wasn’t done. I also got Prawn Crackers, Prawn Toast, Crispy Seaweed, Spring Rolls, Crispy Wontons, Salt and Pepper King Prawns, Honey Roast Spare Ribs, Yung Chow Fried Rice, Fried Dumplings, Deep Fried Crab Claws, Aromatic Crispy Duck and finally Fortune Cookies for a bit of fun.”
“I think I’m in love.” Scott whispered, staring at you.
Ignoring the blubbering man, you pulled out a gift bag from the collection around your feet. “Sorry I couldn’t make your birthday Mr Stark, you know I had court the next day and you can’t arrive in court under influence.”
“Sure thing, Bunny, no worries.” The man smirked as the nickname came out again. Apparently when you were working or thinking your nose scrunched up and Tony had made it his job to entitle you with a nickname because of it; he thought of Bunny to be a sufficient name. Either way, everybody was watching with rapt attention as Tony removed the black tissue paper from the top of the bag and pulled out the box inside. Tony’s face lit up at the sight, prompting the question.
“What did Lawyer Lady get ya, Tin Man?” Sam asked expectantly, like a petulant child.
Thankfully Vision saved him from his despair. “It appears to be a Glen Garioch 46 Year Old 1958 Whiskey, average pricing around $2,777.”
Low whistles ran throughout the men of the room.
“Vis! You don’t tell people the price of gifts!” Wanda gave an exclamatory hiss in said man’s direction causing him to frown in thought.
“Damn, L/N. That’s good whiskey.” Sam addressed you but his eyes were still on the bottle.
“If you play your cards right, Mr Wilson, you might get gifts like that too.”
He shot you a flirty smirk. “I’ll play you any cards you want if it gets you around here more often.”
“I’m surrounded by people like Mr Stark, and more, all day, Mr Wilson, you’re going to have to do better than that.” You pouted slightly at the man, fully enjoying the little exchange.
“I like her. I’ve been telling you for a long time, Birdbrain, you’ve got to up your game.” James permitted himself to join the conversation.
“Damn, and here I was thinking the only person you like was you boyfriend: The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.”
“Didn’t you get anything for yourself, Miss L/N?” Peter asked you as he leant forward to get his noodles.
“I got the Szechuan Spare Ribs. They’re the best thing on the menu.” You replied with a nod towards Natasha.
“Amen to that, sestra!” She raised her beer to you and it reminded you of the other bag.
You pulled out the beer that you had brought with you, alongside the Chinese. “Vy khotite drugogo?” You held out a bottle for her.
“Ty govorish’ po-russki?” She looked surprised as she took the bottle.
You nodded. “My parents were quite pushy and strict when I was younger. They made sure I knew as many languages as I could so I would be well prepared for life.” You took a can opener from your bag; you were starting to feel like Mary Poppins. Carefully popping the cap off your bottle, you offered the opener to Natasha and she gratefully accepted.
“It’ll be fun to have another Russian speaker in the mix.” James stirred his food quietly before taking a bite.
“The Three Musketeers.” Clint raised his bottle to us jokingly.
“Any other talents we should know about, Sweetcheeks?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and you simply gave him an unimpressed look.
“Alongside Russian and English, I also speak French, German, Portuguese, Spanish, Latin, Italian, and Mandarin. Fluently. Mum made me do Ballet and Gymnastics whilst my Dad made me do martial arts whilst growing up. And I had to learn the piano at school.” You listed them off with an impressive air of nonchalance.
“You have the skill set to join the Avengers.” Scott announced dramatically whilst chewing on his mushrooms.
“And you clearly didn’t read the resume.” You quickly rebutted, taking a swig of your beer.
“What’s making you say that?”
“Honestly, Mr Lang, it’s obvious.” You shook your head to yourself. “The only people who have read my resume in this room is Mr Stark about 9 years ago; Miss Romanoff, Mr Barton and Sergeant Barnes all have read it because they wanted to assess my threat level to themselves individually and the team, hence why they have been carrying most of the conversation as they are trying to evaluate me; Mr Vision will have read my resume due to the fact that he has never seen or interacted with a lawyer before; and finally Captain Rogers will have read my resume as he doesn’t trust me in the slightest right now, his feet are angled ever so slightly towards me showing interest, he hasn’t spoken at all to me apart from a defensive lie at the beginning and now he’s contemplating on how to talk to Tony about me after I’m gone without causing conflict. Tell me I’m wrong.” No one said anything. You stood up from your seat and gathered your bags. “Mr Stark, I presume I’m in the usual room?”
Tony let out a tired sigh. “Yeah, Bunny. Please just call me Tony for the millionth time.”
“Of course, Tony.” The pair of you shared knowing smiles as you picked the bags up and disappeared down the hallway.
Prompt: Peter forgets about your birthday. (Based on The Moment I Knew by Taylor Swift)
Word Count: 1600
A/N: SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING SPOILER FREE!!! (And this is unedited)
“Morning, Y/N.” Ned greeted you as you arrived at your locker before school. Being locker neighbors with your close friend kept communication during passing periods a lot easier.
“Hey, Ned.” You smiled, opening your locker up to exchange your books.
“Did you do the Spanish homework? I couldn’t figure out #12.” Ned asked.
“Yeah, that one was tricky. I’ll help you with it at lunch.” You stated.
“You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.” He said, making you laugh. He looked farther down the hall behind, “Oh, looks like someone woke up extra early.” You turned to see where his eyes had landed. Peter was making his way down the crowded hallway with a small, but bright bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Good morning, Y/N, Ned.” Peter said, arriving in front of the two of you.
“Who are the flowers for?” Ned asked in a teasing tone and Peter looked over at you.
“They’re for you, Y/N. Um, for your birthday.” He stated, holding them out to you.
“Thank you, Peter. They’re beautiful.” You smiled, taking them from him before sniffing them delicately.
“Well, uh, May suggested them, but yeah, uh, you’re welcome.” He laughed awkwardly and then coughed to clear his throat, “Happy early birthday.”
“Thank you. You’ll still be able to make it tomorrow, right? The Stark internship hasn’t commandeered your Saturday night?” You asked, worried your best friend and crush was going to leave you on your special day and make up for it with early flowers.
“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Y/N. The flowers are just an early gift.” Peter said, making you smile in relief. The bell rang and you turned around to shut your locker.
“Well, we better get to class.” Ned said, raising his eyebrows at Peter, to which Peter just brushed them off.
“Class, right.” Peter mumbled.
The next day, you were waiting with your eye on the door. You heard three quick knocks on the door and you immediately stood up. You smoothed out your party dress and checked your red lipstick in the mirror, before answering the door. You opened it to find Ned smiling back at you.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Ned grinned, handing you a wrapped gift.
“Thank you, Ned.” You smiled, hugging him. You stepped back, allowing him to walk inside.
“Am I the first one?” He asked. You nodded as you closed your front door and set the gift on a nearby table.
“Yeah. You’re here early too.” You laughed. He looked down at his watch and shook his head.
“Only by a minute. I would call that perfect timing.” Ned adjusted his party hat as another knock came from the door. You quickly went to grab it.
“Happy birthday!” Liz smiled, holding up a gift bag.
“Thank you, Liz.” You beamed, moving to the side to let her in. As more guests arrived, you kept your eye on the door, just waiting for Peter to walk in.
“Y/N!” Liz’s voice made you snap out of your thoughts.
“Yes?” You asked.
“How have you been? I didn’t see you at all yesterday.” You gave her a half-hearted reply, mumbling that you’ve been fine. You felt too empty to talk to her right now. You combed back through your memory, remembering exactly how Peter said he’d be here tonight and that he wouldn’t miss it.
As the hours passed by, everyone merged into the living room, laughing at the current conversation. You looked around the room and you found one thing missing: Peter. You just wanted to be alone. Silently, you slipped out of the room and into the hall.
“Y/N?” You heard Ned’s voice ask from behind you, “Is something wrong?”
“No, I-” Your voice cracked, betraying you. You cleared your throat and tried again, “I’m fine, Ned. Just go back to the party.” You said before hurrying off to the bathroom. You closed the door and rested your back against it. You tried not to fall apart as the sinking feeling started.
“He said he’d be here.” You tell yourself hopelessly. You looked back at yourself in the mirror and let out a dry laugh. Here you were in a party dress in red lipstick with no one to impress. There was a knock from the other side of the door and you inhaled a shaky breath.
“Yes?” You answered.
“Y/N, please let me in.” Ned said quietly. You sighed as the tears began to grow in your eyes. You unlocked the door and slowly opened it.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He mumbled, holding out his arms to hug you. You let out a sob as you welcomed his embrace. You cried onto Ned’s shoulder, Peter’s promise echoing in your mind like a broken record. “It’s okay, Y/N. You’ve still got us.” Ned whispered in your ear. You pulled back and wiped your eyes as best you could without completely screwing up your makeup. Looking over Ned’s shoulders, you could see your guests standing at the end of the hall, watching you with sasd eyes. You were speechless- after all, what do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of everyone you know?
“Cake time!” Ned announced, in attempt to draw the attention off your scene. Your guests shuffled off to the kitchen and Ned gave you a pitiful look. You struggled to smile for him. You followed him down the hall to your kitchen, where your cake was already out and ready.
“All right, let’s sing. One, two, three,” Ned lead everyone in singing ‘Happy Birthday to you’. At the end of the song, you looked back at the door one last time. Still no Peter. You turned back to the cake and you closed your eyes.
“I wish Peter was here.” You thought to yourself as you blew out the candles. Everyone cheered and Ned took the candles out of the cake. As he cut into it to serve your guests, you glanced at the door. Your heart had hit rock bottom- Peter wasn’t there, Peter had forgotten your birthday.
“May, I’m home.” Peter said, walking into their apartment. He shut the door and placed his keys in his pocket.
“Hey, how was it?” May greeted with a smile from her seat in the living room.
“It was good.” Peter replied with a nod, “I’m just super tired, so I’m going to head to bed.”
“Tired, huh?” She asked with slight smirk, standing up from the couch.
“Yeah,” He answered, confused.
“Okay, well. Good night, Peter, but I want to hear all about it in the morning.” She said, kissing the top of his head gently. Peter cluelessly nodded before heading to his bedroom. He closed the door and took off his shoes.
“I thought I lost you.” Peter laughed lightly to himself, looking at his cellphone that was resting on his desk beside him. He picked it up and saw five missed calls from Ned and several texts from him. Worried, Peter quickly read through the texts:
‘Peter, where are you?’ ‘Really? Spider-Man right now? Not cool, dude.’ ‘You’re in deep trouble now.’ ‘Y/N was CRYING because you ditched her on her BIRTHDAY. C’mon, Peter!’
“Y/N!” Peter exclaimed, nearly dropping his phone. He had gotten so distracted fighting crime all day that he didn’t even realize what today actually was. He missed the birthday of his best friend, of the most important person in his life, of the girl he absolutely loved; he missed your birthday. Running to his closet, Peter found the gift he had gotten you. He removed his Spider-Man suit from his backpack and replaced it with your gift. He carefully climbed out of his window and made his way through Queens to your house. He could see your silhouette as you sat at your vanity. Peter got onto the fire escape and tapped on your window. Confused, you stood up and moved your blinds. Seeing Peter, you scoffed. You slowly opened your window as you wiped your tears off of your face.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Peter said, crawling through your window to stand in your room.
“I’m sorry too, Peter.” You replied, making him look at you in confusion. You let out a restrained laugh, “Yeah, I-I am sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. It was one thing having you bail out on me when it was just us studying together, but it’s another thing to completely leave me on my birthday. No text, no call, nothing. Just a party spent with me waiting for you. Do you know what it’s like getting all dressed up, but being met with no one to impress? What was I supposed to do when the one who means the most to me is the one who didn’t show? You were the one thing missing, Peter.“
“You got dressed up for me?” Peter asked in disbelief and you shamefully nodded, “You don’t have to dress up to impress me, Y/N. I love you the way you are. Even now in jeans and a t-shirt with no makeup on and tears in your eyes, you’re beautiful. I could never ask for more. I love you and everything you are.”
“You love me?” You said in barely above a whisper.
“Very much so.” He nodded, “I truly am sorry for forgetting your birthday, not coming to your party, making you wait-” Peter was cut off by you placing your lips over his. After a moment, you pulled back to find him in shock.
“I love you too, Peter- very much so.” You giggled, kissing him again.
“No, no! It’s like this.” I shooed Tom out of the way and showed him how to grade the paper again. He groaned and put his hands on the back of the chair I was sitting in.
“Why don’t you just do it then?” I sighed, turning to face him again. It’s been three months since the bar incident, and Tom and I have been getting along quite nicely. We bicker here and there – but, like we’ve noticed, we’re completely different people. It’s expected. We’d go to lunch together, go grocery shopping together and we’ve even gone a couple of, non-successful, double dates.
“You said you’d help grade the homework! I have to make this test that I forgot I assigned tomorrow.” Tom looked at you, his eyebrows pulled in. “What?”
“If you don’t have the test ready,” his hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “why don’t you just reschedule the test?” I opened my mouth to say something, probably to call him an idiot like I usually did, but noticed he had a point. I turned back toward the homework Tom was grading and reached toward my laptop, quickly hitting the ctrl + s keys and saving the work I had already done before closing my laptop. I heard Tom scoff above me, I looked up to see him shaking his head. “Idiot.”
“Shut up, Holland!”
“Well, you’re welcome.” It was my turn to scoff.
“Um,” he gave me a look that could only be a duh look, “for saving you time?”
“Oh, you’re right,” I said sarcastically, “thank you, Tom. For having common sense – for once.” He nodded his head, pursing his lips.
“You know what, (L/N)?”
“And they’re fighting again.” Tom and I directed our gaze toward the front door, seeing Jacob and Harrison walk through with a couple of boxes of pizza. I walked over to help Jacob with the drinks as he closed the door.
“We’re not fighting, we’re bickering,” I nudged Harrison’s shoulder, “it’s good for moral.” He rolled his eyes, a smile on his face as he passed me a plate.
“So, you going out with your boy-toy tonight?” I looked up at Jacob, sticking my tongue out at his childish tone.
“Don’t call him that, his name is Tony! And, no, it’s a school night.” I had been seeing Tony for about a month. We started out as just bed buddies and one day something just snapped. When we kissed we didn’t rush it, and he started to stay over more and then he asked me out – he broke the bubble.
“Well, don’t have too much fun with all that homework, tiger,” Tom grabbed his plate and winked at me, grabbing a beer and heading toward his room. I watched as he left, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks after he winked at me. I tried to replace Tom’s face with Tony’s. Tony, Tony, Tony.
[Tim Drake hands her a gift bag, as a token of apology; she isn't pleased at first] Jewelry? Seriously? Tim, you are the most shallow, self-centered person I have ever met. Do you really think that another transparently-manipu- [her tone and expression transform instantly, as she takes out the gift] OHHH, IT'S A TIARA! A tiara! I have a tiara! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me!
[helps Stephanie Brown put the tiara on] You look beautiful.
OF COURSE I DO, I'M A PRINCESS AND THIS IS MY TIARA!
[embraces Tim and doesn't let go]
[to Dick Grayson] You were right, the tiara was too much.