#Yeah let's toss this in the 'mixed' category. Keeping you all on your toes with the quality of my work in this series. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shinebrite97 · 3 years

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Part 7

read part 6 here

Yuri placed her pencil down when the first note landed on her desk, folded into a firm triangle, she carefully unfolded it, untucking corners to see Mammon's sharp handwriting. What did Lord Diavolo want from u yesterday? Did ya get in trouble??? Yuri scoffed, quickly writing back and following his folds to return it to the original shape. Flicking it off her desk and letting it slide across the space between then until it skittered to a stop at his shoe. He picked it up, and she stared ahead, paying half of her attention to the lecture and the other half to the discreet sound of paper unfolding. Wouldn't you like to know, money boy? She even went as far as to draw a winking smile. Mammon growled, baring one canine as he did so. She smiled, turning her attention back to her summoning notes. This ain't over, human. The voice was in her head now. One of the perks of a pact, she'd found, being able to communicate telepathically. It was great, at least, until they caught on.

She wondered how long she'd be able to keep this secret. Did Diavolo even want it a secret?

There would have to be some level of PDA, she accepted that. The small amount so far had been reasonable.

But what about when things progress?

Would there be an official announcement to the house of Lamentation, would Lucifer catch them hugging at the door? Would they need to stage a kiss for someone to catch them in the act? Would it become a scandal? The demon prince dating the human exchange student a couple thousand years his junior?

She remembered the things Diavolo said the day she agreed. He'd already had Barbatos lay the groundwork for rumors, so it wouldn't be long before some inquiries would be made and they'd be interviewed.

"Hey, Yuri!" She perked up, suddenly snapped from her thoughts to see Beelzebub standing at her desk.

"We're presenting." He said. She nodded, standing up and walking with him to where Mammon stood, tapping his toes and checking an imaginary watch.

"You doin' okay, space cadet?" He asked.

"Yeah." She replied.

"You first, Yuri."' Beelzebub whispered.

"Right!"

By the end of class, Yuri exhaled a sigh of relief as she gathered her notebook and pen, starting when a gentle finger tapped her shoulder.

"Beel?" She asked, turning around.

"Let's eat outside today," he said.

"Okay!"

They weren't long in the cafeteria, at least it wasn't long for Yuri to pick up a tray with boarback, rice, and soup and she waited only a few extra minutes for Beelzebub to perfect his grasp on four lunch trays each piled high with a bit of every offering.

He walked closely behind her, guiding her out the doors and to a grassy patch in the courtyard where Diavolo's favorite mirage flower blooms caught the light of the moon in the sky. Beel didn't say a word until two of the trays were empty and pushed to the side. By the third he managed to slow down enough to start up a conversation.

"So Yuri," he said, leaning back and crunching on a blackened apple. "Where were you last night?"

"I was with Lord Diavolo." She replied.

"Why?"

"He's...tutoring me." She cringed at the rise of the end of her sentence, sounding more like a question than a statement. Shaking her head, she quickly stabbed a piece of her boarback and chewed silently.

"Okay…" he replied wearily.

"It's Thursday, right?" She asked after a moment. Beel nodded into a bowl of noodles now, lips curled to slurp them up.

"I'm on dinner duty tonight," She said. "Any ideas on what I should make?"

"So you're actually going to be home tonight?" Beel sassed back. "No tutoring tonight?"

"Leave me be!" She squeaked. Beelzebub smiled, poking her side.

"How about we go shopping after class," he said. "I'll even help you in the kitchen tonight."

Ending the day with Devildom History, knowing she was going shopping with Beelzebub afterwards, was a new kind of hell for Yuri and her lack of attention span.

But as she opened her notebook to a clean page, she noticed the last page of writing from the night before. Filled from top to bottom with her handwriting, small print to fit more information per line, names of the last ten generations of Lord Diavolo's family tree. His handwriting mixed with hers, adding tidbits or spellings when she'd messed up, and helpful pronunciations for when she met these relatives.

It put a new sense of purpose in her concentration. Even this boring history class could boost her royalty training.

She opened to a clean page, taking out a few pens in case one ran out midway through, and wrote down every word she could process.

Devildom politics, origins of street names, the original bartering system, myths about the previous crowned kings.

She'd take it all to Diavolo the next time she saw him, hoping to get more explanations over dinner or tea.

When do I see him again, anyway?

Yuri shook herself out of thoughts, continuing to write until her fingers cramped, shaking them out just enough to loosen it.

The lecture had given way to discussion, as it normally did toward the end of the lesson, and some of the older demons tossed out reminiscence about Devildom in its heyday.

"Have you heard the rumors surrounding his Majesty?" Someone asked.

"He's going to be crowned soon!" Another voice piped up. Yuri looked back, recognizing the horns on one dark eyed demon. Satan's friend, though he wouldn't admit it. Mephistopheles. A bit of a class clown, but has information on the comings and goings of everyone in the devildom.

"You hear that he's got a piece of ass on the side?" Someone else asked.

"Lucky them!"

"Probably some succubus who's only with him for his money."

Or a friend who wants to see him succeed…

She bit her tongue behind her closed lips, trying to maintain her poker face as her classmates unknowingly called her a floozie.

"Now now, that's enough." The instructor said. "We have more to cover…"

That class couldn't have ended any sooner. Yuri sighed as she packed up her books, shoulder the black messenger bag Satan had bought her back when she returned, she looked up when Beelzebub entered her line of vision.

"C'mon, before Mammon spots us." He winked, extending an arm for her to hold onto, leading her out the door and down the hall to the main entry.

They snacked on crepes while they shopped, Beelzebub dropped things into the basket, taking it from Yuri when it became too heavy for her to hold, and took her hand once he'd finished his snack.

"Beel!" She squeaked. "Why are you tapping my palm? It tickles!" She squirmed to break free of his hold, but he tapped her once more and then lifted her up by the waist, carrying her like a sack of flour and listened to that bright giggle as he swung her around.

"Okay, put me down!" She huffed. "I know your strong."

"You're cute Yuri," he smiled. "Like a stuffed animal."

"A stuffed animal with bones that are digging into my skin!"

Beel laughed as he entered the checkout line, easing her onto her feet.

On solid ground, Yuri took a moment to check her DDD, seeing some new devilgram posts, a part time job application for Hell's Kitchen, and a new text.

"It's...Lord Diavolo," she said.

"Missing a tutoring session?" Beel asked.

"We didn't have anything planned today." She mumbled.

Please come to the student council office first thing tomorrow morning.

Yuri's heart sank. His words felt so formal and distant, worlds different from the Diavolo the night before.

Yes sir.

She clicked the device off and stood silently beside Beelzebub who moved up as the line shortened, taking a moment to glance down at her.

"Hey," he said softly. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." He replied. "He just said to go to the student council office tomorrow morning."

"Do you want one of us to go with you?" He asked.

"I should be fine," she said. "It might be about tutoring."

"Sure."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There wasn't much else said as they returned to the House of Lamentation, and Yuri knew it was mainly because he was more focused on getting dinner prepared and eating again instead of how awkward things became in line when she clammed up talking about Diavolo.

They worked side by side, her holding up spoonfuls of simmering sauce or chopsticks with dark venison to give Beel a taste and letting him add seasonings as he liked.

What followed was a typically rowdy meal where everyone noticed how quiet she was, and as the meal wound down, and Leviathan took to the kitchen for cleanup, Yuri noticed that Lucifer stayed behind. Nursing a cup of black coffee and reading a ledger.

"Yuri," he said. "I wanted to ask you about your day."

"It was fine," she said. "How about yours?"

"Busy," he replied. "But I couldn't help but notice that you've barely said a word since you've returned. Not even Mammon and his obnoxious behavior got a reaction from you. So what's wrong?"

"I don't know…"

"I am assuming this has to do with Lord Diavolo," he said. "I'm a smart being, Yuri, you have plenty of tells when something is bothering you, and the other night was out of character for both of you."

"With all due respect, Lucifer. I'm not really sure how much I'm allowed to say right now."

"And that response only worries me more."

"I know you are only trying to keep me alive," she said. "So I can tell you this much. I'm fine. I'm safe. Lord Diavolo wouldn't hurt me, and that's not what's happening."

"I don't like being left out of things," he said. "Especially when it comes to Lord Diavolo or a member of my household. And as you fall into one of those categories, this is very disconcerting."

"I'm sorry, Lucifer," She said. "I will explain everything once I have permission to."

"Humans are so strange." He mused. "Such a code of honor to them, and a will that is unbelievably fragile. I wonder if I could use my power on you faster than you could use yours on me."

"Or you could just trust me."

One thin black brow rose over those ruby eyes, ND after a moment the mood shifted, the tension dissolved, and Yuri smiled. His face softened and the corner of his lip lifted into a smirk.

Their dynamic had become way more of a power balance since she returned. She chose to believe it was his love language.

"Well, I see you are not the lost little lamb you once were," He said. "You never fail to amuse me, Yuri. But I suppose I can grant you this. You have the rest of this week to settle things and then I expect an answer for this strange behavior."

"Thanks, Lucifer."

Diavolo stood facing the open window in his bedroom in his robe, gazing more at his DDD than the glistening moon outside.

Yes sir.

The text seemed so cold. So unlike Yuri. No emojis or cute stickers.

And since when does she call me sir?

He wanted to see her again, but didn't want to seem overbearing. He'd gotten a call that day about an interview for his upcoming celebrations, and to introduce this special someone who'd stolen his heart.

It was the first of many interviews, steps to take in order to advance seamlessly.

This was where their acting mattered. The make or break for this plan.

But now it seemed she was angry. What had happened during the day to garner such a response?

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me diavolo #fanfiction #part 7 #Obey me!#friends to lovers #slowburn

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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Death becomes her (Sashea) ~ Hobnob

A/N: Hey so yeah I’m in Canada at the moment and its ok. Im by a lake so thats cool because in England if you went in a lake you’d die. The only thing is the graveyards over here are shit. Like, really bad. Its about 8 pieces of stone with names slapped on them. Thats it. The graveyards in England are gr8 they’re all fancy with big ol chapels and local dog-walkers its rite good. Theres one right outside our tesco extra so you can have a fag and a discount grab bag of monster munch

I suppose what I’m saying is i miss England but only mostly graveyards so heres a sashea grave digger au.

A crisp Sunday morning. A group of twelve people stood around a ditch, 6ft deep.

Shea stood beside it, a neatly piled heap of dirt to the left of her. She gripped the handle of her shovel and allowed a shiver to wash over her. Each drawn out breath would hang in the air as everyone clung to their thick coats, toes and fingertips frozen numb.

The grass beneath her was speckled with last nights downpour, buttercups sprouting sporadically in every crevice of the yard. Each grave was maintained regularly on weekends, but this didn’t stop lichens spreading across the surface of the stone, creating spools of rusted orange and brown.

This wasn’t uncommon for Shea, she’d dug graves for countless amounts of the deceased. What was unusual is the fact she stuck around for the vicars sermon. Shea was paying her respects to a lost friend, who was in the coffin not a metre away.

Sasha velour, born 1987 died at the age of 30.

The funeral was going pretty much as expected, nothing more nothing less. It was all extremely respectful; but Shea knew Sahsa would be rolling in her grave. She was so full of colour, energy and life. To have all her friends stood around a ditch holding back tears would of caused her such pain.

She would of wanted her body to be stuffed with the feathers of a dove then covered in paint or something outrageously artsy like that.

The church bells chimed the tune of ‘Westminster Quarters.’ The schoolchildren playing football in the street peeled off one by one as they were called in for lunch, their knees covered in bruises and scrapes.

The ringing ceased and there was only silence; even the occasional cars making their run to town seemed to stop completely.

The vicar brushed some lint off her robe and cleared her throat. She was clad head to toe in black apart from her clerical collar which shone white in contrast. Vicar Brown was well known amongst the townsfolk. She knew almost everything there was to know about the town and its residents. Any social event, any formal, and she’s be there with her signature tray of rice krispie cakes and a grin.

Vicar Brown was dedicated to her work no doubt. Her knowledge helped when it came to writing eulogies and giving the dead a respectful burial. There were no secrets in this town.

Part of Shea found that unsettling.

The service began and as usual, Farrah was the first to burst out into tears. Valentina gave her shoulder a small squeeze, but mostly in an attempt to shut her up.

The standard funeral ensued. Tears, boredom, last words, goodbyes. Funerals are painful, regardless of if you knew the deceased. Everyone bowed their head as Peppermint tossed a rose on the casket.

“We now commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust: in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life…”

Farrah began to cry again.

The casket was lowered and the sky was spitting. Everyone was eager to pop into a local café and stave off the cold with coffee, but for Shea the hardest part was just beginning. She still had to fill in the entirety of the grave.

Some mumbled some personal goodbyes to the lowered coffin, some put on a brave face and left with no words. Shea sighed and gripped at her shovel again as everything seemed to go back to normal almost instantaneously.

“You okay girl?”

Shea jolted at the voice. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around. Trinity Taylor was stood directly ahead of her with a sympathetic smile. They had been very close at one point.

“Jesus Christ Trinity you scared me for a moment” Shea strained, balling a fist into the fabric of her coat. She wasn’t dressed in the most funeral-ish attire but she had dirty work to do. “Im ok i just…me and sasha were speaking just the other day-”

“I know right?” Trinity cut in. “She seemed fine! I’d be more sad if i wasn’t so shocked.”

They both stood in silence for a moment. Shea turned her attention to the coffin as the rain began to bead up on the varnished wooden surface. She reached for the shovel again and frowned at Trinity.

“They wouldn’t tell me how it happened…all i got was one phone call telling me my best friend was dead and when the funeral was.” Shea said, beginning to fill in the ditch.

“Well thats what i was going to ask you, how it happened, you really don’t know?” Trinity asked in confusion everyone had been in the dark about Sasha’s death, even her closest friends.

Shea was hoping to get the phone call about Sasha. How it happened, where it happened, why it happened. Shea couldn’t help feeling information was being withheld from her for a reason. She felt sick.

“You don’t need to stick around girl, i got it covered” Shea said mustering the most sincere grin she could. “I’ll call you if they tell me anything else.”

“Not if, when. I’ll get to the bottom of this myself if i have to.”

Shea nodded and gave Trinity a tight hug. She admired her optimism in such a bleak scenario, but still, she just didn’t feel right.

“Stay strong Shea.”

And with that, Trinity was gone. Sasha’s closest friends had paid their respects and were probably eating a cheese and onion pastie in Greggs by now. She carried on shovelling the dirt over the woman she had spoken to just 3 days ago, playing every possible scenario in her head, over and over.

The heap of soil got smaller as the grave got fuller. The coffin was no longer visible, nor the rose placed on top of it. Sasha would’ve loved the symbolism of that. The situation was setting in and Shea’s breathing was becoming erratic.

She couldn’t finish burying the coffin, she just couldn’t. Shea dropped the shovel in the grass and stood over the half filled grave, her eyes brimming with tears. The rain wasn’t letting up as she crossed her arms in an attempt to keep any kind of warmth.

in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life

Shea needed to get inside. She couldn’t carry on.

Her attention turned to the church. Its stained glass glowed a fuzzy tinted red from the candlelight inside. Shea stepped in the archway and felt her breathing return to normal. She shut her eyes as she felt the wooden door behind her slammed closed. The steady beat of raindrops pounded against the windows.

“Done already?”

For the second time that day Shea jumped. She scrambled against the doorframe clasping at her heart. It was the vicar, clutching a small bible, possibly preparing upcoming services for the more religious townsfolk. Shea didn’t fall under that category. She gathered herself before speaking.

“Ah-just taking a small break vicar” Shea admitted, her eyes red tears that had been held back. “Im sorry it was cold i just wanted to-”

“Oh please, call me Tammie,” Vicar brown began, shaking her head. “You were good friends with Sasha, no?”

Shea tried to speak, but her whole mouth felt like it was shut together, all she could do was nod.

“It cant be easy having to bury one of your loved ones, its hard enough saying goodbye…” Tammie sighed, putting down her bible and casting a distant glare over to the other side of the church. “Have they told you how she passed?”

She paused for a moment and looked to the floor, trying to muster coherent words. “They-they just said there had been an accident.”

Tammie gave a sympathetic look and patted Shea on the shoulder. She was being patronised. Shea shrugged off the vicars touch and furrowed her brow. The entirety of Tammie’s eulogy seemed almost impersonal, and the last thing she needed was the pity of others.

Nobody knew Sasha velour like she did.

Vicar brown continued. “Thats a shame, isn’t it? Im sure they’ll find out more soon, hm? Chin up duck.” She said with a grin. Tammie picked up her pockett sized bible and flicked to a page almost systematically. “Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.”

Shea let out an internal sigh. She knew it wasn’t her god given right to know everything at all times, but when it came to the death of her best friend a bit of information was the least she deserved.

“i was actually thinking of doing some sleuthing?” Shea admitted. She had found some confidence, as evident in her tone of voice. “maybe ask a few of her family membe-”

“Shea” Tammie cut her off. Her tone was less cheery than before, more intense. “That verse is one i hold very dearly to my heart. Its never steered me wrong before.” She said, tapping her head.

“I’ll…keep that in mind vicar.”

“Please, Tammie.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Tammie.” Shea corrected herself. She had to finish her work and get out of there as soon as possible. Tammie was a nut-case, and Shea was hardly in the mood to be recited christian teachings. “Don’t let me keep you, ill go back to my work.”

Tammie nodded, her face easing up a little, “See you around miss Coulée.” she spun on her heel and made her way back into the confides of the church. The flickering of candlelight casted a silhouette as she left Shea’s line of vision.

Shea couldn’t leave the church quick enough. The rain was hardly a concern at this point. She grabbed the handle of the shovel and inspected her work. Still around half way to go…shit.

“Need some help?”

Shea spun around! Crikey! The ghost of Sasha velour!

“Sup cunt im back.” She stood there in her ghostly glory.

“Sasha you dick pig give us a hug!” Shea said happily.

“Cant, im a ghost.” Sasha shrugged, covering herself in honey mustard and trail mix as an art statement about famine.

Shea was over the moon, this was like, well unexpected. She threw the shovel through the stained glass window and did the electric slide.

“Want to go get a pint?” Sahsa asked, checking her casio sports watch.

“Yah, but how did you die?” Shea said. She had to know the entire story had been building up to this.

“Global warming.” Sasha retorted, breaking momentarily to cough up a bunch of roses.

“Fuck me, i could’ve sworn it was Tammie brown.”

Sasha shooketh her egg head. “Have you even seen scooby doo? Its never the person you expect ya uncultured swine.”

“Have you come to haunt me?” Shea said spitting out her gum into sasha’s grave.

Sasha shrugged. “Good story writing is a construct, tear it apart.”

Shea nodded. That all wrapped up very nicely. Niiiice big ol bow slapped on top. Very conclusive.

“Lets go get you that pint then you cheeky slag.”

And with that they went down to the local tappie for some larger. Not long after they got married in wales at a Dixy Chicken after going on a 3 week bender.

Happy Halloween!

A/N: Bit shit, mediocre, liberal stuff Class is a construct, eat my muff Horrible shit and tolerable shit Cameron made england for the brits This maccies, this is fine Don’t need a nando’s, roadmen in lines For a revolution with naff intentions Brexit was called to fuck generations Yeah man, lend us a quid Student loans and atm im skint :( I’m in so much pain, NHS is whack Theres a lot of politicians, but they all know jack Chavs, roadmen, meddle in gangs Blocked off the alley, can’t get to my nan’s Bar’s, pubs, Underaged drinking England is shit, and LONG LIVE THE KING

#hobnob #sashea #death becomes her #au #sasha velour #shea coulee #tammy brown #trinity taylor #farrah moan #valentina #peppermint #rpdr fanfiction #submission #crack fic

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hazandholland · 7 years

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Spiders and Zucchinis

Written by Christina

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1989

Requested by anntol2001: Can I please have long imagine where the reader dies during the civil war fight( cpr,fire, whatever) and peter brings her back. And then they just kiss and a lot of fluff.

A/N: Sorry it has taken so long for another original fic! Danielle and I have been incredibly busy with school and stuff. I hope this is good! Let us know if you have any feedback!

You sighed, pressing your lips between your teeth in impatience. Tony was rambling, for the millionth time, about how you were only there to apprehend Captain America and his band of rogue super humans. You were not to kill them. You tossed your head back into the luxury plush leather seat of Tony’s jet as he turned to Natasha, his voice lowering. You stared at him, whispering something expressively to the redhead. The girl simply sat and listened, not saying a word. You desperately wished you could read lips, but your not-so-discreet staring caught the attention of the Russian, earning you a smirk. You felt your heart lurch a bit, feeling you’ve been caught doing something wrong, even though you hadn’t. You licked your lips and shifted in your seat, turning your gaze to the window. Grey, black and white buildings cluttered the ground below you. Leipzig.

Tony Stark was apparently unable to solve his problems with Captain America, and somehow, the United States Government got involved. You didn’t know the whole story, as you eventually tuned out Tony’s voice. All you got out of his lectures was that Captain America and his team disagreed with some sort of international law that stated that all humans with abnormal abilities were going to under the United Nations panel’s control. You had mixed feelings on it, able to see the pros and cons of being against the registration and for the registration. But since Tony Stark decided your abilities were used to help Tony and his team apprehend Cap, as well as his team, meant a lot to you. There was no way you would turn down an offer from the world-renowned genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.

“H-hey,” A voice squeaked behind you. You jumped a little, the voice slamming you back into reality. You whipped around in your chair to see who talked to you. A boy around your age with brown hair and a pair of brown eyes that would make any girl’s insides turn to mush was standing behind your chair, crouched down slightly so he was eye-level with you, arms folded over the back of the seat. He looked a little startled when you turned around so suddenly and his cheeks flushed as bright as a fire engine. You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you fought to regain your composure.

“Yes?” You asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. The boy’s eyes widened and he backed away, suddenly intimidated. His eyes shifted from yours to the floor, licking his lips in silence. He must be the other new recruit. You smirked in amusement at his obvious discomfort. You turned back around in your seat, curling your legs toward you.

“I-I’m Peter,” The boy stammered, making you glance back over your shoulder. The boy looked startled again when you made eye contact again, his gaze almost immediately switching to his hands, his slender fingers twiddling and tapping against one another. You scoffed a little at the boy’s awkwardness.

“Well, hi, Peter,” You responded, flashing a bright smile and holding your hand up to his to shake. “I’m (Y/N).” The boy, Peter, stared at your hand as if the gesture was foreign, his hands not moving to greet yours. You bit back a middle-school-like giggle and wiggled your hand between his fidgeting ones. His hand was larger than yours, and way warmer. Your hands had a tendency to be slightly cold, so when Peter’s palm met yours, the warmth sent a wave of comfort over you, easing your heartbeat even though you didn’t know it increased its pace. Peter just stood behind your chair, frozen as a statue, a look of awestruck wonder plastered on his face. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes right when you heard a beep and Tony yelling orders.

“We have arrived! Landing’s in one. Everybody suit up once we’re down!” Your gaze flew to Tony as you swung your legs off the chair, your feet planted on the floor, waiting to get up when the plane landed. Tony’s eyes wandered around the jet, meeting eyes with Natasha, Rhodes, Vision, T’Challa, then you and Peter. You saw his lips curl up slightly in amusement as he noticed Peter lurking behind your chair.

“Don’t play hide the zucchini on the field, got it?” Tony stated flatly, giving Peter a glare. You felt heat rise in your cheeks and a small laugh burst from your lips as Tony turned his back to you and Peter, taking his seat at the front of the jet, leaving his comment hanging in the air.

“Don’t worry, Spider-boy. I’m not interested,” You shot over your shoulder at the boy. A ding sounded throughout the plane as Tony’s AI, FRIDAY, made an announcement.

“We are lowering in altitude. Please be seated and fasten your seatbelts.” The AI stated as the signature seat belt logo flashed on the console above your head. You began fastening your seat belt as you felt a small lurch as the plane descended.

“B-but…” Peter said quietly, leaning close to your ear. His breath gently tickled the side of your neck, causing chills to run down your spine. “I-I do-don’t have a zucchini.” Peter’s comment made you turn your head toward him. He looked like he let someone down. HIs innocence made you giggle in shock and shake your head. You felt the pressure build in your eyes. The plane was going to touch down soon.

“I’m not in the mood to give you an anatomy lesson, Peter,” You said coyly. “Maybe later.” You smirked after your last comment, focusing your attention on the seat in front of you.

“I heard that!” Tony shouted, making at least two of the other people chuckle in response.

“What?” Peter whispered, most likely to himself, his confusion evident. “I don’t-” At that moment, the plane touched down onto the tarmac. The jolt rattled that plane and you heard a thump and a small groan behind you. You glanced behind you and saw no Peter. You giggled as the plane slowed down, coming to a halt. Another ding let everyone know that they can get up. You unclipped the seat belt and propped your knees on the seat, resting your elbows on the back of the chair, glancing behind the chair.

A crumpled Peter laid on the floor, smashed between the seats, eyes crinkled shut in slight agony. You shook your head, not knowing if you felt amused, annoyed, shocked or all three.

“You better get your act together, Peter. We are going toe-to-toe with Captain America.” You turned, walking to the back of the plane to get your battle suit.

You felt every single vertebrae of your spine hit the floor as Hawkeye’s knee buried into your chest, holding you against the cold cement. You gasped for air as you flung an elbow to his side, hoping to distract him. Your fist collided with his skin and he groaned, the weight on you shifting. It was enough for you to wiggle out of his grasp and throw him onto his stomach, fighting to gain control. A mad scramble ensued between you and the former assassin. At one point, Hawkeye had a handful of your hair, and one time you were aiming a kick between his legs. You saw a flash of red out of the corner of your eye and Spider-Man landed behind Hawkeye. Hawkeye raised his bow and drew his arm back, ready to fire an arrow. You crouched low, waiting to dodge it. Spider-Man flung his hand out, the webbing locking onto Hawkeye’s back, making him fall backward. You felt slight irritation swell inside you as you glared at Spider-Man, hands on your hips.

“I could have handled him,” You snapped, sounding more out of breath than you wanted. Spider-Man scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, because it looks like you had it all under control,” Spider-Man quipped. You glared at him harder.

“Look, I may not have any superpowers, but Tony let me come for a reason. I obviously have skill. I can take care of myself.” You decided to prove Peter wrong as you turned, your back facing your opponent for a brief second. As you jogged away, looking for a new fight, you heard a “No!”. You turned around, still jogging. You were greeted by an arrow flying toward your face. You dodged it just in time, the head of the arrow so close you felt the breeze tickle your cheek. You glanced at Peter, who was now webbing Hawkeye to the ground, his bow flung to the side. Peter’s white masked eyes greeted yours as you heard a loud BOOM and you felt an invisible hand push you forward, the force making you hit the concrete with a heavy thud.

“Oh my gosh! Please be all right!” You heard someone shout in the distance. Why was it black? Your head throbbed. Your hands stung. Your heart was pounding. What was going on? You groaned and tried to stand up, your palms pressed into the bumpy concrete. You didn’t have the energy to push yourself up, let alone move. You sighed and tried to take in deep breathes, doing your best to ignore the sharp, stinging pain in your ribs as you breathed. You felt tears well in your eyes from the confusion and pain, but you somehow managed to keep them at bay.

“(Y/N)?!” Someone shouted again, a little louder this time. You heard more people this time. Whispering. Why were they whispering? You focused on your hearing, straining to catch everything.

“You said we weren’t going to hurt anyone,” A man said, slightly angry. You knew that voice; strong and firm. Your mind wasn’t working properly; you couldn’t form anything other than the American flag in your mind when you tried to connect the voice to a face.

“Look,” another male voice answered, their tone indicating that they were going to explain something. “I just launched on explosive arrow past her. I knew she was going to dodge. It wasn’t my fault Rhodes was going to fly back and launch another missile at it!” The man’s voice raised in defense at the end of his story.

“Hey,” A third male demanded, “It wasn’t my fault. Shut up and stop blaming me, Barton.”

“Knock it off,” The first man said, thoroughly annoyed.

“(Y/N)...” A voice said. It was softer than all the others. You felt something cold and rubbery on your forehead, the sensation sending chills down your spine. “Please come back… Please don’t be gone.” The voice sounded weak and heartbroken. Images of red, spiders, black and zucchinis flashed in your mind. Peter. Peter was there. You felt a mischievous idea pop up in your mind. You fought back the wide smile that tugged on your lips as you opened your eyes, ignoring the brightness, throwing your arms forward and shouting “boo!” at the top of your lungs.

It was in that moment that you wished you had video evidence that an assassin and two military-hardened men, as well as a teenage superhero screamed like five-year-old girls. You felt tears streaming down your face as laughter ripped through you, so hard your abdomen muscles ached and you were wheezing for breath. You wiped tears from your eyes as you closed them, the daylight too bright for them.

“Good gosh,” Peter mumbled as Barton muttered curses under his breath. “I thought you were dead!” You smiled as you laid back down, the concrete not as cold anymore.

“Relax, Peter,” You said, taking in deep breathes to calm your thumping heart. “I’m just fine.”

There was a moment of silence before Peter squeaked out “W-W-well, th-that’s good!”. You smiled a little wider at his comment when you heard a whooshing sound and the clang of metal on stone.

“I told you, don’t play hide the zucchini!” A voice shouted, annoyed.

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#written by christina #peter parker #tom holland #spiderman #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #spiderman x reader #imagine marvle #fanfic fanfictoin #thollande #thollandeoriginal

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