A/N: The positive feedback for the first part of the story has been overwhelming, and I am so happy that you guys liked it! It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but there will be a total of six stories set in this verse before I post another story!! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you like this installment!!
recent fight with Peter makes it difficult to come back to the airport. Your talk
with him about trust and friendship haunts you, and you try to
imagine him fighting. Who’s winning?Is it us, or them? Since when had there been
an ‘us’ or a ‘them’?Is
he getting beaten up? You know it’s ironic, considering that you’ve just
shoved Peter out a window, but there’s still a small part of you hoping that
the others will go easy on him.
as you might, you can’t just erase years of friendship with a snap of your
traitorous tears well up again, and you swipe them aside impatiently. There
will be time to cry later, to mourn what you have lost. Now, you have to keep
yourself from falling apart so you can give your best in the fight.
large jet sits in the middle of the hangar floor, large enough to carry at
least ten people. It vaguely resembles a shark, with a sharp nose, sleek body
and wings for steering. Ex-agent Barton had explained earlier that for each
ship, there’s supposed to be a pilot, co-pilot, two wing-men to control the
computer-aided blasters, and a flight leader to check the route, communicate with
the team leader and base, and carry out other administrative tasks.
hatch, get the hatch open,” You mumble to yourself, your fingers finding the
button on the side of the jet.
a hiss, the hatch pops open, and a ramp slides out. You run inside, keeping a
careful eye on the doors to the hangar. You’d managed to wrench them shut with
a flick of your hand, but there’s no telling how long it’ll take before someone
gets them open again.
you find walls that are black where they aren’t covered by grids upon grids of
back-lit buttons, all different colors and sizes, as well as switches and
meters to measure pressure, missile inventory and engine heat. There are three
radar screens, each on a different scale, a blinking ship schematic, and seats
with sleek black helmets on each seat. Fully realizing that your actions mean
life or death to your team, you sit in an unfamiliar cockpit, flex your fingers
over the controls, and hoping you remember everything that you’ve been told.
main steering, if you remember right, is essentially simple: A joystick for
direction and levers for speed and nose angle. Examining row upon row of
buttons before you, you crank the engines on to full power. There’s no ensuing
explosion, only a quiet whir that fills the cockpit. It’s safe to assume that
you haven’t set off any laser beams or worse – the self-destruct sequence. You
press a few more buttons, stowing the wingtip blasters and lasers to make the
ship as sleek as possible.
rise from the cushy driver’s seat, only for your rear end to plant itself back
on the chair with an anticlimactic umph!
Your left arm is pinned securely to the armrest, held firmly in place with a
length of white string that’s a lot stronger than it looks. You squirm in your
seat, trying to wriggle out of the sticky mess coating the length of your arm,
but unless you want to walk around with a chair glued to your arm, it looks
like you’re stuck in place.
for the second time in an hour, you scream in frustration. “Peter!Let me go!”
please,” Peter’s voice is soft and
familiar. At least it’s him, and not that
scary-looking guy in the black cat suit. Your heart swells in relief when you
see that he looks relatively unscathed from his abrupt tumble out the window,
but the sight of him makes you feel sick all over again about what you’ve done,
what you’ve said – and his willingness to toss aside years of friendship for
Tony Stark. “We need to talk.”
have the worst timing,” You snap, baring
your teeth at him. “We’re in the middle of a fight!”
know. You just shoved me out of a window.”
was meant to be a joke. It would be so easy to laugh. But you don’t. You can’t.
“You were beating Sam and Bucky up! I couldn’t just stand aside and let you!” You retort, eyeing the webs gluing your arm to
the chair. “How do these even come off?”
you have to use a cleaner – But that’s not the issue here! About me being
Spiderman … I wanted to tell you. I really did. But there wasn’t a good
time, and it wasn’t safe. If – If people
knew that you knew, well –”
should be touched that Peter’s looking out for you, that he’s concerned about
your safety. It was as he’d said; if people knew about his friends, they might
be tempted to use them against him. But you’re angry at him for lying. It wasn’t
as if the omissions were harmless. If
you’d known, you could have done something.
You could have helped. You could have
avoided many a sleepless night spent tossing
and turning, worrying and fretting
about what your best friend was getting up to. And you wished that he’d given
you a say in the matter. Surely you
were more than capable of making up your own mind about what was dangerous and
what was not.
can take care of myself,” You say instead, staring at a black-tinted helmet and
making it hover a few inches in the air. It bobs up and down, held in place
with the power of your mind. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”
enough to coax a laugh out of Peter. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh
since you’d gotten to Germany, and your heart feels lighter almost instantly. “Well,
to be fair, I didn’t know about those, either. Until today. How long …?”
long,” You lie – if he can, then so can you. “Discovered them about a week ago.”
had them for as long as you can remember. Your parents had discovered that you
had a strange and startling ability – you could move objects with your mind.
Your mom first realized it when you’d held out a hand, and a toy had floated up
from the floor and into your hand. Since then, you’d quietly worked on
developing the skill, as a game at first, and then more seriously, when it had
become clear that the world was changing.
you’d never used your powers to hurt anyone before.
what about you and Captain America?”
asked for my help. I couldn’t say no.” Gracelessly, the helmet drops to the
floor with a thunk, rolling under one
of the seats. “What about you and Stark?”
uh, Mr Stark dropped by the house, and –”
And bribed you with a brand-new suit in exchange for your help?”
protests weakly, “It wasn’t a bribe! He
just saw a couple of those videos on YouTube, and he kind of discovered who I
Blackmail? If you survive this, you’d
like to slap Tony Stark, something you’ve never done to anybody in your life.
you’re still fighting for this guy? Peter, come
on!” You turn your head and gape incredulously at him, almost unable to
believe the words coming out of his mouth. “How can you be so blind? Do you know what’s really going on here? Don’t you have a
mind of your own?”
Spiderman? More like Mr
Stark’s Little Lapdog. And why didn’t his Mr Stark tell
him about the five other assassins on the loose? Or doesn’t he think it’s
Stark isn’t the bad guy here! It’s you,
and –” He breaks off, swallows. He doesn’t want to start a fight; he’s
purposely skirting around words that might set you off. “There are rules, there are the Accords, you can’t just ignore them. You can’t. That makes you –”
Dangerous. A criminal.
stare. This isn’t Peter. It can’t be him. For one moment, your mind flashes
forwards to the situation, rapidly spiraling out of your control. You want to
close your eyes. You want to cover your ears, and you want for all this not to
be happening. You want to wake up in bed. Instead, a hysterical laugh bubbles
its way out of your throat.
still talking, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. “– But Mr
Stark said that if you and the others surrendered, he could work some kind of
Is he even listening to
chasm within you that Peter’s opened up grows wider, wider, and more blackness sweeps inside. You could almost drown in
“Arrest me, then! Lock me up andthrow away the key!” That sour surge of satisfaction
comes back all over again when Peter flinches away from the rising inflection
in your voice. Causing pain with words is new for you. You wonder if this is a new
power of yours. “Just don’t come running back when this is all over!”
anger is white-hot, scorching and burning everything in its path. It’s almost enough
to wash away all the guilt that you feel for shoving Peter out the jet and into
a concrete wall.
Anonymous said:Hey, can I request an NCT 127 reaction to an academically smart girl? Which members would be most attracted to her?
FOLLOW, LIKE, REBLOG, REQUEST.
Taeyong: You looking like a whole snack when you studying ! He can’t help but to stare at you write them equations down witcho sexy ass😂
Jaehyun: You’re a part time p.m tutor at a local study hall. He decided to take a p.m class, he needed to refresh his memory on some things. He thought the class was going to boring, until you suddenly showed up as their new p.m tutor. He never thought learning could be so beautiful.
Taeil: He’s so lost in the conversations you two have. Not lost, like too busy thinking about you type of lost. But like he don’t know what the hell you talking about type of lost
Doyoung: He likes you a lot, he really does. But like shit, he wants to beats you in everything you’re good at. A sudden rush strikes his body when he gets something before you do.
Johnny: He can speak many different languages……….but you can speak much much more. He spends three hours per day to learn some new words in languages he don’t know.
Yuta: (He looks like momo in this GIF to me) “Guess who got accepted into Hogwarts and who didn’t”
Winwin: He can get a bit jealous. You know more shit about his culture than he does.
Mark: He see’s how your so about your education and don’t let shit interrupt it. He can’t seem to catch your attention when he tries to show off in front of you. So he changes his whole look into a cute nerdy style, hoping you will spot him.
Haechan: Everything you say honestly fails to enter his ears properly.
My history crush is John Logie Baird. He was a Scottish engineer and innovator who created the first model of a television. He was born in 1888 and sadly died at age 57. He’s so nerdy and adorable. He looks so soft and gentle and his glasses and hair are just perfect. I love his little overbite too.
We were just chatting on Grindr and had been for awhile at that point, but I had to fight to play it cool. lol I’m a nerd and he made nerdy look like so much fun. He’d talk to me about superheroes and the universes they lived in with the earnestness of my father talking about politics or The Football Game mixed with the glee of a kid on Christmas Eve. We’d fight over which movie adaptation was better and which film critics were wrong about them and why. For the first time in a long time, I had to fight to keep up. We were just friends at that point, but I was already getting stupid with feelings. Sex hadn’t even been brought up yet!
We were going to meet and our plan was to watch a superhero movie. While finalizing the details, his tone changed dramatically and he got really nervous and distant. I assumed it was nerves because my nerves were shot at the thought of hanging out.
He started apologizing for what he was about to tell me. I was there trying figure out what could he be telling me that would inspire such fear in him of my reaction. Like, was he on the run from the law? (That probably would have made me more interested) Trans? (Wouldn’t have been a problem.) Secretly a Taylor Swift fan? (A deal breaker, but seemed terribly unlikely).
He told me he was poz and undetectable.
I was relieved and a little disappointed. Relieved because it wasn’t a deal breaker for me. Disappointed because although I was fairly new to Miami then, I figured that in a city that has led the country for the most new HIV infections for years, people would be more hip to these discussions.
I was wrong and that reality frightened me. As I began to examine that fright – because that is what super heroes do – I began to realize that that my friends frighten me. The way that they avoid talking about HIV whenever I mention it. The way they avoid making eye contact when they do. The way candor reserves itself for extremely private conversations miles from anyone else we know. And how that candor brings out the fear and hatred rationalized by that fear. Ugh! In this moment, it all began to scare the shit out of me.
Part of me is frightened for my friends who don’t know their HIV status. I know from experience that being scared makes you stupid. It polarizes you. Studies also show that people who are scared don’t get tested, don’t get treated, and don’t get support. Without treatment and support, HIV can be a scary thing to manage all alone.
But most of all I’m frightened for my friends who are positive and especially for the men I fall in love with who are positive. They’re scared of some my friends and I can’t blame them. I’ve heard my friends talk about poz people like they’re social and especially sexual pariahs. Like these are terrible secrets, like—and I’m not even exaggerating when I say this—mutants in the X-Men universe.
I know that no super hero can protect everyone from fear and hatred, and all of the ugly things manifested by the fear and hatred. But I will still try. I will still initiate conversations about HIV even if it means friends won’t look me in the eyes. I will continue to chip away at HIV stigma so that no man of mine feels that he needs to apologize for living with HIV.
Top-of-his-class Jimin has a secret that only close friends know, because anyone else really doesn’t give two shits. That secret would be his crush on you. Against his better judgement he wants to do what he can to see if you’ll reciprocte his feelings.
Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader.
Tags: Nerd!AU. Fluff.
Unlike most of Jimin’s evenings where he ate with his parents then retreated to his room to bury his nose in another novel he decided to skip on his afternoon meal and retired to his privacy earlier. His parents did not seem to notice his lack of hunger and merely thought that their boy was trying as hard as possible for upcoming finals. To be quite fair, he would be studying in his room…
‘My boy is so studious,’ Jimin could hear his mother gloat to the neighborhood housewives as they sipped their tea. Ridiculous.
But what his mother did not know is that he offered someone help with studying. Not that she would have minded if he lent a fellow student a hand, mind you, but it was a specific person that he was told to avoid at all times. Now, if it was someone like Kim Ji-yeon (a sweet, shy girl) Jimin’s mother would have approved. However, it was someone his parents warned him about.
Her name was _____ _____.
She was quiet most of the time in class and only opened her mouth to make a smart comment, or to make several crude jokes which earned her multiple trips to the office. Her eyes were shrewd and glare unforgiving, so cold it could freeze hell over according to the other students. Jimin always thought them to be a bit dramatic. But above all she was beautiful; it made it even harder for anyone to approach her.
The company she kept was no better. She hung out with two boys with greater reputations for being disorderly and just as cold. Yoongi, Namjoon, and her had been each others friends for as far as Jimin’s mind could recall. And Jimin had great memory.
He could recall how Namjoon was ready to kick his ass when he offered _____ academic help. The taller boy rolled his sleeves up threateningly, the muscles in his jaw popping out from how hard he was clenching it. It brought a nervous laughter out of Jimin’s lips, his eyes shifting to her then back to Namjoon too fast that it made him dizzy. His expression might have been something amusing to see since it made _____ giggle.
At first Jimin thought inviting her to his home was an absolutely insane idea, but now he was sure that it was a crazy one indeed. He cursed how his mouth worked faster than his mind in inviting the girl to his home knowing very well that his mother would chase her off. His only hope was _____ changing her mind and ditch the date.
Was it too much for him to think it was their first date? He scoffed. Of course it was. Jimin didn’t even pose the question in a manner that would imply this would even be considered anything other than a study session. Given _____’s behavior towards other boys that approached her it was a given that she had no interest in a paramour, and the other boys had better reputations than Jimin. Meaning, cooler than him.
Jimin had no experience in something like this, and so there he was standing in front of the full length mirror in his room figuring out how to adjust his button-up dress shirt so that it makes him look less…nerdy. He worried of his image especially when it came to her, because contrary to popular belief (the belief being that “nerds” only go for other “nerds”) he quite liked _____.
“Aw,” Jungkook cooed, “Jimin has a little crush.”
“You know that nothing will happen between the two of you, right?” Seokjin, a senior in school and his friend, had added before taking a bite out of his sandwich. Jimin sighed. He was right. But still, he was hopeful.
Unbuttoning another button of his shirt he finally gave up and let his arms fall to his sides. He gave an exasperated sigh.
“You look so cute when you pout,” a feminine voice said, making him jump. He almost let out a yelp before he caught himself and noticed how _____ was perched atop the windowsill. She giggled.
“What like its hard?” She replied with a question of her own knowing very well what Jimin wanted to say. Jimin grew excited yet nervous how she was speaking more than normal, but she was doing so in his room. If his parents found out—
“Relax, I can be quiet.” Had Jimin been that easy to read? He shook his head in an attempt to snap himself out of the shock.