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starryknight09 · 4 years

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Unforeseen dangers ch. 5

Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

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“Hey rugrat, what have you been up to?” Clint asked as Peter walked into the common room.

“Homework.” He answered and jumped over the back of the couch, landing with his back on the cushions and jostling Clint. “My brain is dead.” He complained, not caring if he was being melodramatic. He’d spent all morning and afternoon working on it, and he still had a lot left to do. Missing almost two weeks of school was something he definitely planned to avoid in the future.

“Rough, huh?” Clint asked with a half grin.

“That’s an understatement.”

“You’ll survive.” Clint patted his shin.

“Yeah I guess.” He sighed. “I just want to be done with it so I can actually start to enjoy my winter break.”

Clint nodded in understanding before gesturing toward his right thigh. “How’s the leg?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Pretty much back to normal.”

“Good. That’s quite the healing factor you have. If that had happened to me, I would’ve been laid up for weeks.”

“Yeah. It definitely has its uses. Although personally, I like it better when I don’t need it at all.”

“I’m sure everyone feels that way.” Clint nodded. “But we’re all just happy you’re ok now kid.”

“Me too.” Peter tried to smile, but he didn’t know how well he succeeded. The whole event with Ross had been nothing short of terrifying and thinking about it still left a stale taste in his mouth.

“Hey, and don’t worry about this media thing. Your dad’s got it covered and we’ve all got your back, you know.”

“I know.” He nodded. Maybe he should be more worried than he was about his picture being splashed across all the news channels, but he had too many other things on his mind. He didn’t have the mental space to start worrying about something that hadn’t caused an actual problem yet. He figured he’d deal with it if it became an issue, but hopefully it wouldn’t.

“Hey it’s the squirt.” Sam announced as he walked out of the elevator and into the room along with Steve, Nat, and Rhodey. They all had their sweat laden workout gear on.

“Hey guys.” He greeted them with a lazy wave.

“You two hungry?” Steve asked, making his way toward the kitchen.

“You know me, I could always eat.” Clint replied.

“Me too.” Peter agreed.

“I’m starving.” Sam said dramatically as he fell backward into one of the armchairs.

“Ditto.” Rhodey said, sitting on the other empty couch. Nat hummed in agreement before she slumped down next to him.

“Whatever happened to the no coming in the common room without showering first rule?” Clint complained.

“That sounds like a made up rule.” Nat said tiredly.

“Didn’t you hear us? We’re starving.” Sam reiterated as if that explained everything.

“You guys reek.” Clint shook his head.

Nat flipped him off.

“We do not.” Sam sniffed one of his arm pits. “I smell great.”

Rhodey shook his head and turned the TV on.

“What’s for dinner Cap?” Sam asked as Steve walked over.

“Well since it looks like there’s no food in the kitchen, I ordered some pizzas.” Steve answered, sitting in the other empty armchair.

“Mmm, pizza sounds great.” Rhodey said. He stopped channel surfing and settled on a news station.

“What do you mean there’s no food?” Clint asked.

“Exactly what I said. The cupboards are bare.”

“Sounds like Stark’s been slacking.” Sam snorted.

“Can you blame him?” Nat quirked a judgmental eyebrow at him.

Peter pretended to be engrossed in the TV so he could ignore the not so subtle looks they all turned toward him.

“I’m sure FRIDAY can handle it.” Clint waved a hand dismissively then directed his eyes to the ceiling. “Right FRIDAY?”

“Indeed. I will order the usual shipment to restock the kitchen right away, Katniss.”

“FRIDAY.” Clint groaned in complaint as everyone else grinned or chuckled in amusement. One of Tony’s favorite things to do was to program FRIDAY to call his teammates by their many nicknames.

“…and in other news, no progress has been made in identifying the boy next to Tony Stark in the photo that has been displayed by media outlets across the world.”

Peter’s attention snapped to the television as the two newscasters on the screen discussed him. Well, the picture of him. The photo popped up in the upper right hand corner of the screen. It was really weird seeing a picture of himself on television even when no one else recognized it as him.

“Maybe we should turn this off.” Steve suggested but Peter shook his head when Rhodey made a move toward the remote.

“No. I want to hear what they’re saying.” He said softly. He’d been avoiding it, but he figured it’d be stupid to try to avoid it forever, and there was no time like the present.

“Tony Stark has remained conspicuously silent on the matter.” The male newscaster said.

“And if that’s not telling, I don’t know what is.” The female newscaster agreed. “This is the man that couldn’t keep his identity secret as Ironman for more than a day, but this he makes no remark about?”

“And not just him, but Stark Industries and the Avengers are all keeping quiet. There’s definitely a story to be had here. The only question is who is going to figure it out first.” The man smiled.

Peter scrunched his face up at that.

“And although there’s still no official word from any of the staff involved in the signing of the Accords amendments, our sources say that the government aide responsible for the leaked photo has been fired.” The woman added.

“Well that’s certainly not surprising,” The man said as he nodded and straightened the stack of papers in front of him, “especially if you consider—”

“FRIDAY off.” Tony’s voice interrupted whatever the man had been about to say.

Peter craned his head back over the armrest to see his dad standing there with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Why are we watching this crap?” Tony nodded toward the now blank TV screen. “There’s really nothing more interesting on?”

Guilty silence met his question.

“It’s not their fault. I wanted to watch it.” Peter spoke up. He didn’t want anyone getting in trouble because of him. “I should know what they’re saying about me.”

“They’re not saying anything about you.” Tony argued, and Peter swallowed hard when his dad turned his displeased expression on him. “Because they don’t know it’s you. They’re speculating on some as of yet unnamed person. And that’s how it’s going to stay until they eventually lose interest and then all this will die out.”

No one argued with him.

“Got it?”

Peter nodded.

“Trust me. It’s all going to be fine.” Tony said, voice softening as his hand landed in Peter’s hair.

“Ok.” Peter gave him a small smile.

“Ok good.” Tony rounded the couch and gently picked up Peter’s feet to make space so he could sit on the couch before settling them back in his lap. “So, now that that’s settled, maybe we can watch something of actual substance?”

Rhodey turned the TV back on, but was quick to change the channel, searching for something better.

After a few long seconds of awkward silence, Clint asked with a smirk, “So you got the aide fired huh?”

“Of course.” Tony answered as if it was obvious.

Peter protested in surprise, “Wait. You got them fired?”

“Don’t worry about it kid.” Tony patted his knee.

“But—”

“What they did was illegal. They’re lucky all I did was take their job away. I could’ve done a lot worse. I wanted to, actually, but Pepper talked me out of it.” Tony said more darkly.

“Better be careful Stark. For all you know, all they need is this grudge against you to turn into an evil supervillain intent on revenge.” Nat joked, lightening the mood.

Tony snorted. “That is kind of my MO, huh?”

“I wouldn’t be proud of that.” Nat said dryly.

“Hey, maybe it’s a good thing. I eventually have to run out of enemies, right?”

“Not at the rate you make them.” Rhodey chimed in.

“Hmm. That may be true.”

“Definitely true.” Clint nodded. “I’m one more stupid nickname from FRIDAY away from taking you out myself.”

That made everyone laugh and even Peter quirked a smile. He still felt bad that someone had lost their job over him, but if releasing that picture had been illegal then it had probably been deserved. He figured he could live with that.

Tony had been right. A couple weeks passed and the media buzz finally started to die down as they came no closer to figuring out that he was the kid in the picture. Everyone around the Tower started to act a little less uptight, which Peter figured could also be because of the holiday season, and not just his picture’s fading notoriety, but either way, it was nice.

Tony went all out and literally decked the halls with the rest of the team’s help. Peter had never seen so many Christmas decorations. He and May usually decorated a tree and put some baubles up around the house but that was the extent of it. Tony took it to a whole another level.

He’d bought a ten foot tree and the whole team had spent one morning decking it out in an assortment of ornaments while they listened to Christmas music and drank hot chocolate with candy canes. The kicker was the addition of everyone’s specially made superhero ornament, including Peter’s Spiderman. But the tree wasn’t all. Garland, poinsettias, lights, and Christmas themed decorations adorned every available surface. It looked like an elf had thrown up in the room, and more often than not, Tony walked around with a Santa hat perched crookedly on his head. Peter loved Christmas, but it was almost too much even for him.

Peter didn’t know if this was the usual for Tony or if he was doing it special for him, for their first Christmas together. The offhanded comments Pepper and Rhodey had made along with some of the other Avengers made Peter suspect it was the latter, and he appreciated it, but he also couldn’t help the melancholy that sometimes threatened to overtake him as he prepared to celebrate his first Christmas without May. Tony seemed to sense it every time he started to feel particularly down because he’d show up out of nowhere and pull him into some festive activity.

So far, he’d gone ice skating at a rink Tony had rented out for the afternoon to keep it free from bystanders, he’d made a gingerbread house, he’d gone upstate to go sledding, and he’d decorated Christmas cookies, the activity he was currently attempting. He and May had never really done the Christmas cookie thing since most of her cookie baking attempts ended up blackened. The store bought kind had been a Christmas staple in their house ever since Peter could remember.

But Peter had to admit, Steve’s homemade cookies tasted way better.

“You’re supposed to decorate them, not eat them.” Tony said as Peter munched on his only partially iced gingerbread cookie.

“I can’t help it. They’re too good.” He said through a mouthful of crumbs.

Tony shook his head in mock exasperation. “Well hopefully Cap doesn’t mind making more or all his hard work is going to be gone by the end of the night.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve said from the other side of the kitchen where he was rolling out more dough to cut with the cookie cutters.

“I’ve only had like two.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“I counted at least three.” Bruce piped in but didn’t take his concentration away from frosting the snowflake cookie in front of him.

“Five.” Nat said with a quirk of her lip while she sprinkled green and red crystal sprinkles over her tree cookie.

“No way I’ve had that many.” Peter protested. “You must be losing your touch.”

Nat sent a fake glare his way and Peter tried to act appropriately cowed in the face of the Black Widow’s displeasure. It didn’t work so well. He broke into a grin instead.

“I also counted five.” Vision added from where he decorated his cookie, which looked more like something out of MOMA than a Christmas cookie. He and Wanda had returned the night before, from wherever they’d been, to celebrate the holiday with the team while Clint and Scott had left a couple days earlier to spend Christmas with their families.

“Whose side are you on?” Peter asked with feigned betrayal as Tony cackled beside him.

“I was not aware there were sides.” Vision cocked his head sideways.

“There aren’t.” Wanda answered as she laughed softly next to Vision. “It’s a joke.”

“Oh. I see.” Vision nodded and went back to his cookie.

Peter reached to grab another fresh cookie, a sugar cookie this time, in the shape of a candy cane, but Tony lightly swatted the back of his hand.

“Nuh uh. No more cookies for you.”

“I’m going to decorate it, not eat it.”

Tony shot him a flat look of disbelief. “You said that last time. And the time before that.”

“Well this time I mean it.”

“Fine, but if you eat this one, you’re cut off for good.”

“Way to stick to your guns Stark.” Sam snorted over his snowman cookie.

Tony flipped him off without looking up from frosting his own cookie, but he didn’t stop Peter from grabbing the candy cane cookie.

As good as it looked, and as tempted as he was to eat it, Peter resisted and started frosting it instead, going for red and blue stripes instead of the classic red and white.

“Are spiders colorblind?” Rhodey poked fun at his miscolored candy cane cookie as he finished sprinkling his own bell shaped one with silver sprinkle balls.

“No.” Peter said and checked to make sure the frosting had hardened enough before he leaned over to start piping white frosting in a thin and delicate rendition of his spider webs over the blue and red.

“Because last I checked candy canes are red and white.”

“Hmm.” He said, distracted as he concentrated on finishing one of the webs and then starting on another. “It’s my theme cookie.”

“Your what?”

“My theme cookie.” He explained as he finished the webbing overlays and leaned back. “See? Spiderman candy cane.”

“Nice.” Rhodey nodded and raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“That looks good kid.” Tony smiled, clapping him on the back.

“Damn. Why didn’t we think of that?” Sam asked.

“Yeah and what would your theme even be?” Rhodey asked. “A bird? What are you going to do, put one in a tree?”

Sam glared at him.

“If he made it look like a pear tree he could put a partridge in it.” Peter joked.

Everyone laughed.

“Not a bad idea kid, but it’d have to be a falcon, not a partridge.” Sam argued.

Peter shrugged and grabbed another cookie to decorate. “Semantics.”

“Two turtle doves might be cuter.” Wanda offered with a smirk. “One could be Falcon and the other Hawkeye.”

That got even more laughs.

“Ok. That’s enough of making fun of the bird themed superheroes.” Sam said. “Especially when Clint’s not even here to defend himself. Besides, pipsqueak here is the only one who’s identity can even be turned into a cookie.”

“What are you talking about? I just did it.” Nat smugly held up the cookie she’d just finished, an ornament shaped one, decorated black with her red Black Widow logo embossed in frosting on it.

“Nice.” Peter grinned. It looked awesome. “The spiders for the win.” He reached across the counter and high fived her.

“Where did you even get black frosting?” Sam asked, looking around the countertop and not seeing any.

Nat just smiled.

“I don’t know. I think I like this one better.” Tony said and held his own cookie up. A snowman with red and yellow Ironman armor on and a blue arc reactor in the center of its chest.

“That looks awesome.” Peter said, impressed. He didn’t know Tony could draw like that, even if it was only with frosting. When he thought about it, though, he didn’t know why he was surprised. Creating and engineering probably required a lot of skill in drawing.

“I know. Don’t eat it.” Tony pointed a finger at him in warning as he set it back down on the counter to finish drying.

“No, this one’s definitely the best.” Bruce said, holding up a gingerbread cookie he’d frosted completely green with purple shorts.

“Nice.” Peter nodded.

“Looks good.” Tony agreed.

“How does this look?” Vision asked, holding up his own, an elaborately decorated tree cookie with two birds in it, one adorned in red and black with large wings and the other in black and purple with a bow across its back.

“That’s amazing Viz.” Wanda nodded.

“Yeah.” Rhodey agreed. “See Sam? You get your cookie after all.”

“Ok but seriously, where the hell is all the black frosting coming from?” Sam asked, scanning the counter top again.

Peter couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing and everyone joined in.

The theme cookie decorating turned into a thing. An ornament decorated to look like Captain America’s shield was next. A snowman in the War Machine armor followed. Then Vision made a gingerbread man cookie with the mind stone affixed to its forehead and Wanda made one with red in its palms and eyes.

Peter had to admit, it was a great way to spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve. The easy camaraderie and happiness of the season was infectious. There was no way he could stay sad even if he’d wanted to.

“You good?” Tony leaned in and asked when he’d been uncharacteristically quiet for a few minutes.

“Yeah. I was just thinking.”

“Uh-huh. About what?”

Peter smiled at the man that had become his dad as he answered, “May would’ve loved this.”

“Yeah?” Tony gave him a soft smile in return.

“Definitely.”

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him in for a sideways hug. “I think you’re right. And I have to say, this has been one of my favorite Christmases so far.”

“Really?”

Tony nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I get to spend it with you.”

Peter’s eyes were twinkling as he smiled up at his dad.

“And I know it’s probably tough for you, but I hope you’re having at least a little fun.”

“I am. You’ve been trying really hard.”

“I have.” Tony admitted. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s working.”

“Good.”

Tony ruffled his hair and they went back to cookie decorating. And eating.

A part of Peter’s heart still constantly ached from the emptiness of May’s absence, but a larger part was filled with happiness and the joy of the season that Tony’s efforts had inevitably brought.

He knew May wouldn’t begrudge him his holiday cheer. Just like he knew she wouldn’t mind him changing his name. He wondered again if the whole Ross kidnapping him and almost dying thing had been worth it in the end just to know that his family loved him and only wanted the best for him. For him to be happy.

A wet tap on his nose snapped his attention back to the present.

“Smile Rudolph.” Nat grinned as he touched the tip of his nose where she’d smeared a glob of red frosting.

Peter gaped for only a split second before retaliating by flinging a handful of his white frosting at her. She tried to duck but still ended up getting it on her cheek and in her hair.

“Oh, now you started it.” Nat warned.

“No, you did.” Peter countered.

“No! Don’t even think about it!” Tony warned holding his hands up between them, but Nat was already dipping her hand into the red frosting bowl next to her.

“Guys let’s not—” Steve tried to reason with them. He was cut off as Nat splattered Tony and Peter with a fistful of red frosting.

“—do this.” Steve sighed.

Peter laughed at Steve’s resignation and his dad’s face covered in frosting.

“You’re dead Romanov.” Tony threatened, and then it was an all out frosting food fight.

As Peter ducked down beneath the counter to avoid getting splattered, he had to admit that the Avengers sure knew how to liven up the season.

#unforeseen dangers #ch 5

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nochanchu · 5 years

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back to you

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader genre: spiderman + post-break up au | drama, romance, fluff, themes of comfort and aching for it; includes anxiety wc: 3,920 description: He knows he shouldn’t lean on you for fear of what may come, but he’s young, dumb, and impulsive, if there’s anyone he’d come running back to—it’s you. author’s note: a long overdue story I’ve had in my drafts since may... but still one I enjoy nonetheless!

It hits Donghyuck just how much he depends on you a moment too late.

A moment far, far too late—several months actually.

Despite this, he knows that out of everyone in his pool of friends, the one person that he can lean on when the going gets tough and he can’t seem to breathe, that he can call in the ungodly hours of the night when he just needs to talk and silence is too unbearable, it’s you.

If he can recall far back enough, you’ve always been his solace, his guiding light in the darkness that follows any hero. He calls you, airs out all the baggage and anxieties until suddenly he has to pause to catch his breath, and all at once, fresh air fills his lungs and nothing else matters. He basks in the soothing dulcet tones of your voice, clinging to every word even if they’re mumbled and coated with fatigue. That’s how it’s always been.

Even now, when the last thing he should be doing is forgoing what Doyoung said.

He knows he’s being selfish by moving away from the Kim Enterprises building in favor of another path. But between the pain eating away at his ribs and the aches across his body, his brain acts on its own accord.

When he blinks, what he last remembers as the New York skylines becomes the brick-stacked walls he knows too well. He rolls up his mask just to make sure he isn’t seeing things, and it’s just as he left it all those three months ago. He’s not sure what he expected to be different when this area of your home has never once looked different during his occasional passing trips, but his uncovered eyes drink in the vicinity for something different for no particular reason.

The bag of soil you had him carry up is still at the corner near the entrance to your dining room, half-touched and only somewhat smaller than before. There’s still an empty beige planter beside it, too. The plants that litter the corners aren’t as lush and viridescent as before, but they’re alive. Trying to be, at least.

Kind of like me. He would say this aloud, but he feels his throat close up.

If he makes a sound now, then this is really happening. He can’t even accept that he’s standing right here, right now. As Doyoung has said time and time again, this is dangerous, and really, really bad things could happen. Unspeakable things that holds reasons his mind didn’t register until reality sunk in and reminded him that his situation was not as simple as it once was. So, Donghyuck had to make that promise to the two of you that he wouldn’t just come to you like this, in fact he made well to add that he wouldn’t be coming to you at all anymore.

The very thought of how big of a risk he’s running frightens the ever living fuck out of him, but he’s scared for other reasons too. The biggest of them is the one he feels deep within the marrow of his bones, where a wound cuts so deep into his abdomen unlike the previous ones he has gotten in battle; the sort of pain that wraps around him and elicits thoughts he hasn’t considered for his own sanity. The kind of thoughts that an newly turned eighteen-year-old shouldn’t be having in what is considered the prime of his life. But they won’t stop. The pain doesn’t stop. And all he wants to do is be selfish just this once if it means seeing you right now.

Perhaps if he wasn’t so damn selfish, he wouldn’t be standing at your balcony right now, and he certainly wouldn’t let his own body act on its own accord and fumble with one of the planters for the bronze key you’ve kept stashed there if ever he needed you or your place for whatever reason. He wants to do this despite how much he hates to admit that the distance has done nothing to sate these feelings at all. A part of him wonders if time has changed things on your end as he sifts through the dirt. He realizes he has to hope it’s still there even though he wouldn’t blame you for moving it either.

To his relief (and somewhat surprise), it’s there. He can feel the edges dig into the uncovered parts of his palm, now certain more than ever that this is no dream. Otherwise, he would have woken up by now out of shock to be this close, and from the cold that seeps into the ripped seams of his suit.

Donghyuck hesitates to use the key now that it sits in his hand. He knows he shouldn’t be here. How many times has he been told to stop going to you? How many times has he told himself that he can’t just come back to you whenever he pleases? Given, this is the first time since he put an end to things with you, he feels an unbelievable amount of regret coursing through him. He can’t tell if it’s the waning adrenaline from the earlier battlefield or if it’s the heartache that’s been clenching his heart, but being here is bittersweet and comforting all the same.

Knowing you’re so close, yet so goddamn far makes him wish to close the distance and finally get it through his own thick skull that there isn’t anyone else that he would rather be with than you. If he’s dying like he feels like he is in the “I’m really about to bleed out and collapse on the ground I’m standing on,” then you’re the last thing he wants to see before everything goes black and that light at the end of the tunnel greets him like everyone says it does.

Of course, he’s probably overreacting. Doyoung probably would have dragged him by the ear otherwise. However, all logic aside, his limbs won’t let him move anywhere but forward, while his brain is screaming at him to hightail it out of there. It’s as though his heart has taken over all motor functions. The way it moves his hand to press the key into the slot, he can’t seem to stop until there is a click! and he can slide the door open, hesitantly.

He takes about one step before he stumbles over the long-forgotten step, trapping a curse in his throat when he realizes he has knocked over the planter in his haste to stop from falling. His limbs have grown even heavier since feeling the warmth and familiarity of this place even from this area. Your scent manages to envelop him like a tight embrace and reminds him that he is supposed to be a stranger here, that he shouldn’t be here. But he knows this already. He hears it in his own voice and Doyoung’s, and when he tries to hear it in your voice, it’s impossible.

While his body is saying everything he wishes he could—as if trying to convey how he wants to see you just this once by making it ridiculously difficult to walk away, as if to tell him that if he can do that, then he can find some strength to get through the rest of tonight—his anxieties work to fight him against these whims. As quiet as the doubts were before, they have gotten louder and louder since the first sign of his turmoil.

Donghyuck takes a little less than a minute to decide that he better leave right now. He doesn’t know how long it will take until you wake up from the ruckus he has caused, but if he lingers he will face you for sure. And if he faces you, he isn’t sure what he’ll do. His mind could conjure up a plethora of scenarios, each one meant to mentally prepare him for an inevitable reunion that he’s been pushing for since he let you go, and the more he considers these things, the more certain he is about leaving back to his apartment where he can self-loathe and patch himself up, probably receive an earful from Doyoung for turning off his comms until—

“Hyuck?” The hallway light blinds him for only a moment, giving him enough time to register the confusion, vulnerability, and surprise riddling your hoarse voice. You squint at him, as if trying to decide if he’s really here or if you’re some figment of your imagination brought out by some odd dream. He takes you in all your glory in without missing the familiar dishevelled bed head you’re sporting and the way you don’t oppose his presence right now.

Donghyuck can’t even express his true feelings when a strong surge of pain overthrows all initial responses, and whatever words stuck to his throat get washed out by the sharp exhale of pain passing through his lips. You propel yourself forward and catch him before he collapses straight onto the floor, disregarding the slick, scarlet trail he leaves behind on your oversized t-shirt.

You frown more so at the wound than at him before setting him onto the floorboards as carefully as possible and locking the doors before leaving for the first-aid kit you keep on hand for situations like this. It’s a quick departure—by the time he blinks, you’re back with the red and white box, now flicking on the tableside lamp in your quaint living room.

He has to squint at first to adjust to the incandescence and the closeness of your proximity that constricts his throat from further conversation, because if he says anything now, he isn’t sure he can hold himself accountable for what comes out.

But Donghyuck whimpers as soon as the antiseptic wipes touches his wound. He doesn’t realize he’s gripping the end of your t-shirt, but he is and he hears your voice get smaller like the way you would on those late night phones calls or back when he was too scared to look at his grades after a test—those were simpler times.

“You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Those words were his lullaby. A mantra to get him through the roughest patches in this heroic business. He could see your face with the corners of your lips curled slightly and your half-closed eyelids fluttering between waking and dreaming everything single time. And somehow everything was okay, again.

But he’s not okay. He hasn’t been okay for a while now.

He was when you were together, at least. But any relationship is symbiotic. There’s a give and take, a push and pull. And like you with him, he wants to keep you safe, okay. He wants you without worries when it regards him. To know that you have spent nights on end just wondering if he’s going to make it back from an impromptu mission makes his heart clench, because there are things that you are more than willing to do for him, and it isn’t just picking up his call at four in the goddamn morning.

There was once a moment in your time together that you told him that you would go to hell and back for him. And he believes it. He knows you would. And that absolutely frightens him, because as ethereal as you are through his eyes, you don’t have the same lifespan as an angel. Neither does he, but he certainly stands a better chance against any demented, powered guy than you. And such an impermanence always made him second guess what he was doing by being with you. It was indisputably selfish to think that he could hang out to the only normal part of his life and expect no repercussions out of it. With a risk that high and a reputation growing as big as his, he had to stop before something happened.

He cut those ties and nipped them, and he hoped for better out of it.

You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay, he hears. I promise.

Donghyuck doesn’t open his eyes. He fears that if he opens his eyes, then this won’t be real; that he’ll wake up on the battlefield or in Doyoung’s medical room. But he fears that if he’s dead, then he’ll have never even seen you at least once before his demise, and that, for all reasons, frightens him as much as not being able to protect his aunt.

“Don’t go.”

I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s okay, just open your eyes for me. Okay? Just open them, please.

He doesn’t know what he’ll see if he opens them, if this’ll be real, or if what’s out there will be the end of him. And, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready. He just knows that it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before.

“Okay.”

He opens his eyes.

Your eyes meet his, and his breath catches in his throat—“This is real.”

You look like you’re torn between laughing and crying, and his heart leaps too far and wide for him to gauge. You’re still just as he remembers with your hair falling out of its makeshift ponytail, with strands all over the place, oversized t-shirt now stained in his blood, and a smile that could only be done justice by seeing it in real life.

“Of course, this is real,” you respond, unable to fight back the urge to hug him. He realized then that you hadn’t moved him from the floor, though he couldn’t blame you considering how hard it would’ve been to remove blood stains from the couch. It hurt a lot more to hug you back, but he did it and didn’t regret it either. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go.”

You kept your hold on him, even as he let go, thinking that was his cue to do so.

“I’m sorry,” he says once more, this time with complete coherence. “I—I—I don’t even know where the hell to begin besides there, but I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, and I don’t know if you want to talk to me or if this is another part of some messed up dream, but even if it is, then I’m sorry for—you know—coming back to you like this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t even keep my word. I’m sorry for being a selfish jerk, okay? I miss you so much. So goddamn much. I don’t even know what to do with myself. I just came here on my own accord. I really wanted to see you, just in case—”

“Just in case of what, Donghyuck?” He winces as you let go of him, and lock eyes with him. “Just in case you… die? You don’t come back? Just in case of what, exactly?”

He hates how panicked you sound, how pained you sound to say these things, and how he isn’t sure how he can alleviate any of it now that you two are in the position that you’re in. If this were any normal circumstance, the kind that didn’t involve talking about his death as plausible albeit all too soon occurrence, he wouldn’t hesitate to draw you into his arms and let you know that everything would be okay, that whatever was concerning you both was just a passing(, non-life threatening) phase that would come and go before either of you could blink. But things, as they currently were, have been different for too long to go back to old times like that. To reminisce in such a way feels like lifetimes ago, and yet he feels an obligation and desire to let you know that he’s here for you too.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, sighing. “I—I—yeah, alright? Just in case I die. I was scared, okay? So scared. Just a few hours ago, I was out there fighting for the sake of everyone else’s, and something went wrong or maybe—I dunno—almost went to plan for the bad guys, but I thought that was going to be my last battle. I thought if there was one thing I’d want to do, then it’d be to see you. And, I’m sorry that it took me being in this position to do that, but I want to keep you safe. I can’t just keep depending on you and risk your life like some selfish asshole. I’m sorry.”

“You’re an idiot. I hope you understand that, because you and I both know I don’t give a shit about what happens unless I know you’re okay. I only know you’re okay when I see you passing by every now and then. Or if I see you at school. Or I dunno, I hear from Auntie Soon about you. But, Hyuck, what I don’t get is why can’t you see that no matter how hard you try to push me away, that’s not going to keep me away. I mean I’ll respect any boundaries you set considering our break up, but that won’t ever stop me from caring about you, ever. I mean it. I want what’s best for you, and I think one thing I wish the most would be for you to stop being so stupid, and just accept that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Even if Mr. Kim set up some top-security detail to keep me from you, I’d manage a way to find out how you are.”

You both cracked a smile at that—of course, you would find a way. Of course, you wouldn’t relent, even if the odds were against you both. And, of course, he loved you for it. For all of that and more.

“That’s not fair…” His heart hasn’t stopped, not even a little bit. Only you could do that.

“It’s not fair that you keep saying that this is for the best when we both know who’s really taking care of your ass when a mission goes awry. I mean sorry Mr. Kim but I’m the best medic you got. I’m your own nurse and therapist, so I have him and his multi-billion dollar doctors beat by a long shot.”

“I know, that’s why I came here.” He adds, chuckling, “among other reasons.”

“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” You smile as he does, just hearing it is enough for him. Being here with you is actually more than enough for him—he tells you so, too. “Well, come back then. Stay then. Just stop pushing me away, alright? I want to hear from you, whether you’re hurt or sad or happy or whatever. All of that, Hyuck. Because I love you. I miss you. And, no matter what, we both know you’ll always come back to me.”

“I know. This was me trying not to do this anymore, and yet, here I am. Back as always.”

You take hold of his hand, knowing how badly he wants to hold you, yet being fully aware of how scared he is to initiate that.

“Tell Mr. Kim that you can’t push away someone you love, thinking it’s for the best—it isn’t. For either parties.” You pause for a moment, glancing at your window. “Who knows though? Maybe he knows you’re here.”

“Well, if he does, then he does, and I’ll deal with him if he doesn’t approve. I just had a near death experience, and I need this,” he says, raising your joined hands together a few centimeters off the ground. “I don’t ever want to leave, honestly.”

“You’ll have to. So will I. We have school.” You laugh as he groans. “Sorry. But I mean, we still have a full day to ourselves tomorrow. If you’re okay with sticking around. My parents are out, somewhere in Europe more than likely, and I know Auntie Soon will be happy to hear that we’re talking again.”

“True, she’s been ready to fight on your behalf ever since I’ve started deflecting all conversations about you.”

“That must be tough. I imagine she brings me up every second she gets, probably telling you that letting me go was the worst mistake of your life and other things along those lines. Would probably also leave behind hints about how to woo me back and get Auntie Taeyeon to nag you about breaking up with me.”

Donghyuck nods as fervently as he can in his state and enjoys the way you laugh so happily. “It’s almost as painful as this wound at how accurate you are. Were you telling her how I could potentially woo you back or something?”

“No! Not directly, at least. I said everything jokingly, so I didn’t expect her to actually tell you to do any of them.”

He thinks back to the suggestions; you would hint to his aunt about what he could do, though Auntie Soon probably did fabricate them, he doesn’t mind so much. He knows you both mean well, even Auntie Taeyeon, as intense as she can be.

You lie beside him, having already cleaned the floor sometime during that period he was passing out, propping yourself up by your elbow as you do so.

“You don’t need to do any of them, by the way,” you mention, “I know that look, and I mean it, you don’t. I’m content with this. As long as you’re being yourself. Not some robot you think you need to be to protect me from whatever metaphorical and literal bad guy is out there.” He opens his mouth to protest but you quiet him with a squeeze of you hand. “Let me protect you this one time, Hyuck. I can’t be out there fighting alongside you, as much as I wish I could, but I can protect you here. This is my domain, alright? And, if you’re okay right now, then that’s all that matters.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” He cranes his head to look at you, not wanting to miss a moment.

“You must’ve been scared before, huh?”

“Yeah, I was scared shitless, honestly. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what would happen. I mean I know the consequences of defending the city, but this was a different reality—if that makes any sense?—” he continues once you nod, “I think I’m absolutely scared of death. I don’t know what it is or what to do about it, but no amount of powers in the world could ever make me feel as powerless as I did earlier. Like, if anything really had gone wrong, it would’ve been game over, and I’d be alone.

“Yeah, I have Mr. Kim and all but Auntie Soon and you and the guys? Imagining just being gone from you guys hurts my chest to think about, and even just thinking about it hurts my head more than any concussion I’ve ever had these past few months. But I’m okay right now. I’m here with you. I don’t need to think about that what-if, if I can help it.”

“Not while I’m around,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his cheek. “I’m here, and I’ll say that again and again until that sticks in your head.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just keep coming back, again and again.”

His eyes soon grow heavy, even as you find more things to talk to him about, and despite how hard he fights to stay awake, you let him sleep.

You’re safe, you’re okay, you tell him again, and for once during these past few yet long months, he believes it.

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imababblekat · 5 years

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Imagine The Tfa Bot’s Finding Out Their S/O Has A Spiderman Alter Ego

(A/N: My favorite dreams are always the one where I get to swing around like Spiderman and even have my own Spidersona!)

(s,n)=(spider name)

Tfa Ratchet:

he's seen on the news about this (s,n) and the plenty of heroic things they've done

the doc thinks it's plenty strange that a human has these spider like abilities, but the most he does is shake his helm, because honestly, his team has fought several weird humans so at least this one is a good guy

not once does he ever expect (s,n) to be his s/o; it just never clicked with him until him and his s/o got into an argument one day over the vigilantly

the way she keeps defending them and deflecting his negative comments about how they should do a better job protecting Detroit got Ratchet wondering why she’s so heated up about it

that's when everything just sorta falls into the place; the times he would lose his s/o if a battle broke out only to show up unharmed when it was finished, the strange reason (s,n) would always swing away before he or his team could approach them, etc

he questions his s/o if there's something she’s hiding, and when she says no, he gives her that look, and she can only give in and tell him

Ratchet feels so much about this new revelation; proud, curious, stressed, worried

while he won't ever admit it, he's proud of the selflessness of his s/o, but on the other he can't help but be extremely concerned for her well being

he's seen live feed, back before he even knew her, of the strong villains she would fight and how she’d go crashing through walls, etc, and it scares him to think that that's been his s/o, and still very much is

Ratchet never tells her to stop what she's doing, but it's apparent that's he's very worried in the ways he bombards her with questions if he hasn't seen her in a while, or rushes out to a fight to assist and fuss over any injuries she may have gotten

the doc bot finally calms down when she pulls him aside to say that she couldn't stop, even if she wanted to, especially knowing that she could help

after that statement, Ratchet knows there's nothing he can do keep his s/o from being a hero, but while he lets her continue her work and assist when needed, he's always got a first aid at the ready

Prowl:

Prowl is very intrigued by this masked hero known as (s,n), but most of that might be in part due to Sari always faning about them

he's very fascinated by the spider like abilities of this hero, and as much as he's tried to catch up with them to talk, he's always left with a sticky trail of webs

the ninja bot has his speculations of who could be (s,n), one of which includes his s/o; it might seem silly to others, but Prowl has his reasons

he never tried testing out his theories of who they could be, till one evening when he and his s/o were supposed to meet up for a date, and a battle occurred between (s,n) and a villain

during that whole battle, Prowl sat waiting for his s/o, but every time he tried to call her, she hadn't answered or even texted

he was worried that perhaps she had gotten stuck in that area, but once she did show up, apologizing about being re routed around the battle, Prowl's close attention had caught the slightest peek of a red and blue, spider web patterned suit under her button up shirt

Prowl doesn't act for a week, just watches and pays close attention to his s/o till he feels he's got enough evidence

finally, when he feels ready, Prowl suddenly through's a disc at his s/o who has her back turned

spidey senses going off, it's no surprise that she flips right at the last second and webs the weapon against the factory wall

Prowl's s/o is staring at him mortified, while he just stares back with a smug smirk and crossed arms

the two sit down some where private to discuss this new development in their relationship; how she got the powers, when she realized she had them, when she started being a hero, etc

Prowl ask her if she had ever thought about the risk of what she does; while he is concerned for her safety, the question was really just a simple one of curiosity

his s/o nods and tells him how she had waited for a while after discovering her powers before becoming a hero, and seeing all the bad stuff go down in Detroit, while knowing that she could do something about it, is was what ultimately got her into being a hero to begin with

Prowl is undoubtedly proud of what his s/o does, and while he leaves her to her own heroism, he's always there to assist if need be

Optimus:

we all know that Optimus has a history with spiders, so hearing and seeing that Detroit has a spider-human hero sends so so many shivers up his spinal strut

don't get him wrong, he thinks what they're doing is absolutely amazing, Optimus is all for hero stuff, but did they really have to be spider themed?!

while partly disappointed, he's also admittedly glad that every time his team tries to meet them after a battle they're swinging and gone in an instant

like anyone else, Optimus doesn't have the slightest clue as to who's under that mask, and while curious about it, he's never been bothered to find out

till he walked in on his s/o crawling through one of the windows of his berth room, exhausted and maskless and ready for some sleep

the Prime is frozen in place, because a) a spider like human just spider walked into his berthroom, and b) that spider person is his s/o!!

Optimus stays stuck there for an eternity till he's snapped back by his s/o frantically waving their hands in front of his face, and before he can stop himself, he falls back and nearly swipes at them

seeing his gut reaction and the fear in his optics, his s/o feels absolutely horrible, but not nearly as horrible as him for almost hurting her

the rest of the night is spent sharing each others past and how they got to now; Optimus and the whole reason why he's got arachnophobia and his s/o explaining how she got the powers she currently has

Optimus get's used to the fact that his s/o is (s,n) and the spider abilities that come with her, but what he doesn't get used to is the heavy beatings they get from fighting; from being shot at to being throw half way through the city

he understands that his s/o isn't like other humans, and can take some heavy hits, but that still doesn't stop him from asking his s/o one night if she ever thought about not being a hero

she very calmly explains to him that she had tried to put it to rest once after a particular battle ended up with her being sent to the ER, but during those days of recovery and seeing the crimes going on through the news, and knowing that she could help, really made her feel guilty

he's still very concerned for her well being, but Optimus doesn't try to keep her from being a hero, and if anything, is always there to lend a swinging fist or two

~xXx~

#tfa ratchet x reader #tfa prowl x reader #tfa optimus prime x reader #tfa ratchet #tfa prowl #tfa optimus prime #transformers animated imagine #transformers animated #transformers imagine #maccadam #imagine #headcannons #female reader #crossover #request #anon request #@gucci-yang #imababblekat's writing

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jadelotusflower · 6 years

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2018 Reading List - February

February - finished

The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan - Always one of my favourite movies, I had read the book many years ago and had the urge to revisit. A wonderful story of four Chinese women and their American-born daughters, and what’s the most interesting is that it is truly female-centric, the male characters are husbands and fathers and very much on the periphery. I really love this book.

The Lost Child of Philomena Lee by Martin Sixsmith - Based on a true story and the inspiration for the film Philomena with Judi Dench and Steve Coogan. However rather than source material the book is more a companion to the film than anything else - the film is Philomena’s story as she searches to find the child she was forced to give up for adoption while the actual life of Michael Hess (born Anthony Lee) plays a very small part. The book is the opposite, with only short interludes about Sixsmith’s search to find Philomena’s child, and Philomena herself only appearing at the beginning until the adoption, and in the epilogue. The rest is Michael’s story, told in great detail in novel format, from adoption and move to the US, struggling with his sexuality and identity issues,career as a constitutional lawyer and working for the Republican party during the Reagan and Bush eras, to death from AIDs in the 90′s.

While I enjoyed the book, the format is a little strange - I love historical fiction, but when the history is so recent it does seem almost like a breach of privacy. Sixsmith is putting words into the mouths of people who are still living, recreating the life of Michael Hess by attributing thoughts, feelings and actions to him that we have no idea are accurate - that Sixsmith cannot have any idea are accurate no matter how much research he did (and have in some cases been disputed by Michael’s partner and friends). It raises a question about the ethics of historical fiction and my own reaction to - why do I feel slightly uncomfortable reading this and not, for example, watching a film based on true events where the characters portrayed are people who are still alive? Perhaps a novel feels more intimate, perhaps because I was expecting more of a biography (in many ways it presents this way, with no disclaimer and complete with photographs), or a story more in line with the film. I have very mixed feelings about this book.

But there’s lots of interesting stuff - a deeper look at the corruption of the Catholic Church and the Abbeys that kept unwed mothers in indentured servitude for three years and sold their children, the cruelty and judgement of the Sisters, and the Irish government who allowed it to happen, and the continued efforts to cover up what happened, and prevent both mother and child from finding each other again. It really was a travesty and if nothing else the book does bring these events to account.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - After starting a halfway re-read in January, I had to finish it off. When this book was first released I was living in London, and went to the bookstore on Saturday morning with my flatmate to buy the book before heading to the movies (Spiderman 3 I think) - I remember sitting in the cinema starting to read, and Hedwig was killed just before the lights went dark. After the movie we went home and I spent the rest of the day and night reading - I think I finished around 3 am. I still think the book is as engaging as it was then, albeit with its own flaws (Dumbledore’s sexuality as subtext only, the epilogue with all those fanficcy children’s names, JFC Harry, let your wife choose at least one!). I think the entire series really does have some fantastic, nuanced characters that manage to show the shades of grey so many people like to think they have in their work, when really it’s thinly veiled villain apologia.

“The world isn’t divided into good people and Death Eaters” - we get to see Dumbledore the puppet master still striving for the greater good at the expense of others, but can appreciate why he did what he did. We can sympathise with Draco for being a product of his environment and the Malfoy’s about-face which helped win the day, while still knowing that he did terrible things of his own free will almost till the end, but also that he can move beyond the mistakes of his youth and become better.

And then there’s Snape, the subject of so much meta and fandom discourse. Honestly, I always really enjoyed Snape as a character because he was so very interesting (+ Alan Rickman was everything) - which is unusual for me because I generally don’t find ostensible villains very interesting. But IMO, he’s one of the more complex antagonists of recent times, because while he’s on the side of good, he is not in any way a good person. In fact, he remains pretty terrible, even after he learns of Harry’s intended fate (you think that would have softened him up a bit) - but terrible people can still do the right thing for the wrong reasons, and that’s very interesting to me. A Prince’s Tale explains him, but it doesn’t absolve him - that Harry names one of his son’s after him says more about Harry’s character than Snape’s. Do good works redeem without good intentions? Is it enough to be big picture good if you’re small picture terrible? It’s ambiguous, and deliberately so.

If nothing else this re-read reminded me just how much I do love the series, and the world and characters JK created. Ravenclaw pride!

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by Jack Thorne and JK Rowling - Someone bought this for me when it was first release, but I never had to urge to read it before now. Seemed fitting, since it picks up exactly where the epilogue leaves off and follows young Albus Severus Potter as he heads off the Hogwarts, befriends Scorpius Malfoy (precious smol bean!), and gets sorted into Slytherin. While there are flaws and I can understand the fan reaction I didn’t mind it even if it reads more like fanfiction than an official addition to the canon (partly because very little fazes me anymore) - but the relationship between Albus and Scorpius is compelling, as are the themes of inter-generational prejudice and the woes of being ordinary with extraordinary parents.

I just wish it was done with more skill - if anyone has any good fanfic recs, particularly about the early Hogwarts years of the kids, I’d like to hear them.

February - ongoing

The Fiery Cross by Diana Gabaldon - I read another 100 pages. At this rate I’ll be done by this time next year.

#harry potter #deathly hallows #severus snape #cursed child #philomena #the joy luck club #2018 reading #books

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