summary:When you come back to your small hometown in order to help your brother keeping your now dead parents diner alive, business degree in hand. Tensions rise between you and someone you’ve had a crush on all your life, who you didn’t think felt the same.
pairing: best friend’s brother!tom holland x fem!reader
There was never a time where you could remember not having a crush on him, on Tom. You’ve always been drawn to him. You’ve always had this schoolgirl crush for him. But it was always so difficult since you were one year younger than him, and he was your brother’s best friend.
You’d spend your days as a younger girl writing about him in your diary, wishing that he would kiss you like you had seen in the movies. It was your one true desire in life. To be with Tom. Your best friend Zendaya always made fun of you for liking an older boy even if it was only by a year.
You’d spend your days ogling over him across the school, the only time the two of you ever overlapped was when your brother, Ethan, had Tom over for sleepovers and study sessions, even just for fun. They were so close – tight as a knot.
But as you grew up, you found yourself doubting this. Doubting your silly crush. Doubting your feelings – they would never happen. You attempted to move on but for your whole life it became apparent that you were stuck on Tom. You were stuck in this lifetime where Tom was your only thought, was the reason you woke up every day, even though you never saw him and Zendaya called it an obsession… and it wasn’t. Because you wouldn’t constantly check his socials. You wouldn’t ask your brother about him. For a few years there you hadn’t even talked to him. You didn’t even know if Ethan and Tom were still close. It rattled you. What you would do without Tom in your life. Sure, there were a few moments that Tom had been there for you because Ethan couldn’t be – but it’s not like he saw you as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.
Tony Stark (dad) x Reader (daughter) x Peter Parker (boyfriend) x Quentin Beck (villain)
A/N: after seeing Spider-Man far from home i definitely needed a breather of fluff to get over it, but not gonna lie, this includes some angst too. also sorry for the random uploads, i’ve been working and running errands constantly but writing when i can, usually on my novel, but sometimes on fanfics. love you all.
Closing the algebra textbook on your bed, you sighed heavily, glad you were finally done with your homework for the night. Thankfully Tony had allowed you to drag your textbooks to the dinner table so you could study while you ate, and that had allowed you to get to bed at a halfway decent time. You shoved the textbook and notebook off of your bed into your bookbag, making a mental note that you’d clean it up in the morning, then shrugged off your shorts, tossed them in the hamper, and rolled over in your sheets. With the snap of your fingers, your lights turned off, and you smiled a bit to yourself, glad that the work for the day was done and you could finally relax. Your brain was exhausted, mind filled up with different equations and theorems, and as you closed your eyes, you wanted nothing more than peace and quiet until tomorrow’s sunrise. That was, until you heard a knock. You groaned, sitting up, wiping the grogginess out of your eyes. “Tony? Seriously?” you whined. “I was already half asleep.” That’s when the knock came again, and you snapped the lights on, confused as to why the door hadn’t opened. “Dad?” You whipped your head to the window, eyes widening at the masked boy on the other side of the glass.
“Hey!” he waved to you, glad to see you were awake and attentive, but you were ever the latter.
“Peter?” you hissed, flinging off your sheets and racing to the window. “What the hell?” You unlatched the sill and slid it up, staring at him, still bewildered and frustrated. “Peter, it’s a school night! God, school night? Forget that, that doesn’t even matter right now.” You shook your head, staring at him once again. “My dad is literally going to kill you!”
“And lose one of his best avengers?” he teased. “Nah, don’t think so, y/n.”
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, allowing him to climb into your bedroom, still donned in his suit. “So what’s the special occasion, Spider-Man?” You folded your arms, looking him up and down, trying not to blush. You had been dating Peter Parker for almost two weeks now, but still, every time you saw him in his red suit, you couldn’t help but try to hide a squeal. It was sometimes hard to picture the ever amazing Spider-Man and your nerdy dork of a boyfriend Peter as the same person.
“I wanted to visit you,” he shrugged, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other outside of school.”
“It’s cause you work all the time,” you frowned, poking a playful finger into his chest. “With your superhero adventures and all of that.” You huffed. “Honestly sometimes I think you spend more time around my dad than you do me.”
“Not my choice,” he put his hands up in surrender. “Trust me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, finding yourself crawling up into his lap, linking your arms around his neck, smiling. “You should take your mask off so you can kiss me.”
“Hmm?” he tilted his head to the side, making you giggle.
“You heard me,” you told him shyly and he laughed a bit too before reaching up to tug his mask off of his head, exposing his messy brown curls and his tired eyes. “Aw baby, you look exhausted.”
“I’m fine, really,” he reassured, shaking his head. “Just a late night mission, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” you looked down, feeling guilty. “You probably don’t have time for me, you know. You’re already busy with school and the whole Spider-Man thing…”
“Hey,” Peter lifted your chin to look at him, saddened. “Don’t say that, y/n. I love you. I will always have time for you. Even though it might not be as much time as I want, there will be time. I’ll make time. Anything for you.”
“Okay,” you managed a small smile. “I love you too.”
He leaned in for a kiss and you melted into him, letting yourself relax, his hands pressing into your back. He was right. You hadn’t seen him outside of school for a couple days now, and it was eating at you alive. Much less, most of the time he was around, Tony was watching both of you like a hawk. “I can’t stay long,” he apologized. “I still need to finish my homework.”
“Just stay here,” you begged, wrapping your arms around him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Forget the homework.”
“I know. I wish I could, love,” he hushed. “But Aunt May is waiting for me and she still thinks I’m over at Ned’s.”
“Alright,” you sighed in defeat. “Well… promise to visit me like this sometime again?”
“Promise,” he nodded.
Peter gave you one last kiss before you slid off of his lap and handed him his mask, watching as he fixed it on and climbed out the window, then shot a web and swung away. You watched half in awe and half in longing, wishing he could’ve stayed even maybe just a minute more. He started to disappear into the distance of skyscrapers and towers, and you slid down the window, crawling back into your bed and resting your eyes, ready for school tomorrow.
“You’re not going to school,” is the very first thing that comes out of Tony’s mouth when you arrive downstairs the next morning.
“What?” you stare at him blinking, still clutching the straps of your bookbag. “Seriously? Do you know how late I stayed up last night working on those math problems?”
“We’ve got a mission and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone, so I’m taking you with us,” he stated. “Get packed. We leave in two hours.”
“Is Peter coming?” you asked eagerly and he looked at you, disappointed.
“It’s not a family vacation with your boyfriend, alright kiddo? It’s a serious situation we need to take care of,” he scolded. “Go up and get your bags. I’m taking you with us for safety reasons.”
“Safety reasons,” you mocked under your breath as you walked away and you could practically envision him scowl.
“You better behave young lady or someone’s going to get their window privileges taken away,” he warned and you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes wide.
“Excuse me?” you turned around, shocked.
“What?” he stared back at you, a bit prideful in himself. “You didn’t think I’d catch little Spidey-Boy crawling through your window last night?”
“Dad,” you groaned, frustrated. “What did I say about invading my privacy?”
“What did I say about the rules?” he cocked his head to the side, obviously annoyed. “I told you no seeing the Parker kid after midnight. And he’s definitely not allowed in your room.”
“He wasn’t in my room!” you tried to protest with a lie and he narrowed his eyes.
“Your window is part of your room,” he argued. “And last I checked, two in the morning is past midnight.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, turning on your heels and walking back towards the elevator to go upstairs and pack.
To be completely honest, you weren’t really sure where you were going, but from what Tony had told you, it seemed like the rest of the Avengers would be there. You’ve met them on a couple occasions, but Tony highly discouraged getting too involved. You understood to an extent, but you didn’t see what was so harmful about having a little fun. You were already dating one of them, and the daughter of another, why couldn’t you just be friends with the Hulk or Black Widow? What was so wrong about that? You sighed, pondering about it as you flung open your suitcase and looked for a couple good outfits to bring along. You didn’t know whether it would be warm or cold, so you decided to pack for both just to be safe.
That’s when there was a knock on your door and you sighed once again, trudging to go open it. “Who are you?” you stared at the two men donned in suits strangely, seeing as you didn’t recognize them from anywhere before.
“Come with us,” they simply stated, and you raised an eyebrow, twice as confused.
“Did Tony send you? Are you going to take my bags?” you inquired.
They shared a look, then nodded, going back to facing you. “Uh yeah, Tony told us to take your bags. You’re coming with us,” the first one announced, holding out a hand to grab your suitcase.
“Oh,” you gave a second look, unsure at first, but noted the professionalism and the suits. “Alright.” You handed over your luggage and stepped out the door with them, wondering where Tony or Happy would be. They usually were right by your side during these types of excursions.
“Keep up,” the second suited man encouraged, noting the way you seemed to be distracted as you followed them down the hall.
Before you knew it, they were escorting you into the back of a limousine, then to a building. “Soooo…” you drew out the word as they took you down a series of hallways. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” one of them mumbled.
“The way my dad made it out to be I thought we’d be going to London or Tokyo or something,” you laughed and they paused, turning around.
“Your dad?” they asked at the same time.
“Well yeah, Tony,” you clarified. “Uh, you know. I’m y/n. Y/n Stark.”
“Right,” the first one nodded carefully, although looked surprised at the information. “Just down this hall, it’s the last door.”
“You all keep acting strange,” you hummed. “Something doesn’t seem right.”
“Just go through the door,” the second one groaned, opening it up and shoving you through. The doors clicked locked behind you and your eyes widened, seeming to realize this was probably a trap. Goddamn it, y/n, you were so oblivious sometimes. You instantly turned around, miserably trying to flail open the door, fingers gripped tightly at the handles, but you heard a tsk, tsk noise from behind and you rescinded, facing another suited man across a desk, this one with an aftershave and slicked back hair, looking particularly smug.
“Ms. Stark now, is it?” he smirked, making you feel particularly uneasy. “Well, I thought you were just Spider-Man’s girlfriend, but now, what’s this? Iron Man’s daughter? How riveting.” He gestures to the chairs gathered around the conference table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Panic seized your body at the realization and you instantly pressed the charm on the bracelet Tony had gifted you, the one he had urged you to wear in case of any emergency. He had crafted it himself with a tracker and alert system in case you ever were in a time like this. You clicked the button three times, expecting it to light up like it usually would, but nothing happened. You cursed, shaking and sweating, clicking it wildly, but the man just threw his head back in a laugh. You paused, looking at him, disgusted and terrified all at the same time.
“That pretty little technology won’t work here,” he chuckled. “Give up already, there’s no escape. Nobody’s coming to save you, princess. Not your Spider-man boyfriend, and definitely not your Iron Man dad. It’s just you and me now. So why don’t you have a seat and let’s talk this one out?”
“What do you want?” you scowled, crossing your arms, refusing to sit down.
“Let’s be civil now,” he narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn’t want things to get ugly.”
“Who are you?” you pestered him with another question, sick to your stomach that you were stupid enough to find yourself in such a shitty situation. Tony would be so disappointed.
“Quentin,” he gave a sinister smile. “Quentin Beck.”
“Am I supposed to know who you are or something?” you tilted your head to the side, clearly unimpressed. “Because I really don’t.”
“I used to work for your daddy’s company,” he teased. “Stark Industries? Ring a bell?”
“Yeah I’m not a dumbass,” you argued. “I know his company. But what does that have to do with me being here?”
“You, my darling,” he begins, hardening his expression and pulling out his wrist, staring at it as if to check the time, but that’s when you realize the contraption fixed to his arm. “You are my chess piece.” He clicks a button and the entire scenery shifts, conference tables and seats fading away, making you scream and curse in confusion, until you focus upon a new scene with a dark sky. You’re in an alleyway. Alone. “You didn’t want to take the easy route, so I guess you’ll have to play my little game, hmm?” His voice echoed in your ears, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. He was nowhere to be found.
Surveying the area, you began to notice someone at the very end of the alley, a small boy with messy brown hair carrying a bookbag. As you approached, he looked familiar, and you began to run to him, eyes widening at the connection. “Peter!” you called his name, running faster towards him. “Peter!” But no matter how fast it seemed you ran, you were getting nowhere, the distance between you refusing to lessen. You called his name louder, hoping he would hear you, but a dark shadowy figure came into view at the end of the alley, pulling some sort of weapon out of his pocket, pointing it at the boy. “No! Fuck, Peter- no!” You ran as fast as you can, your lungs seeming to collapse and your legs burning with exhaustion, but it happened before your eyes. A zap of blue lightning seemed to shoot out of the weapon, causing the boy to tumble to the ground clutching his chest, then crumble to the gravel motionless while the shadowy figure walked away. Tears formed in your eyes, you screaming out, still trying to run towards him, but it was no use. He slowly closed his eyes, lips parted open, still. Was he-? No. He couldn’t be.
As you ran faster you found the scene changing, and you were atop a glass bridge, high above a city full of lights, stomach feeling queasy. “What?” you looked around, panicked, wondering what had happened to Peter and the alleyway. You stared down the side of the bridge, head spinning. You must have been at least several miles up, everything was so small. You took a step back from the railing and felt the brittle glass underneath you crack, your heartbeat pounding in your chest. “No, no, no, no-” the glass shattered and you felt yourself falling down below, shutting your eyes tight, screaming as you fell, until you opened your eyes, the dropping sensation stopped all of a sudden.
Everything was gone. You were in your bed. “Huh,” you laughed a bit to yourself. “God, I’m glad that was just a weird ass dream.” You sat up from where you were laying down, looking around to make sure, and you saw everything in place like usual. You sighed of relief, then heard a tapping at the glass, raising an eyebrow and going to check. It was Peter. Your eyes lit up and you raced towards the window, opening it up and greeting him with a smile, tugging him into your room. “God, I’m so glad you’re here,” you practically cried from happiness, embracing him tightly. “I was so confused, and I thought you were hurt, but I guess-” Suddenly he shoved you back and you paused, offended and scared, looking at the masked boy you loved. “Peter what are you doing?” He shot a web straight at you, pinning you the wall, practically suffocating. “Peter! What the fuck?” He shot another web. And another. And another. Each one suffocating you more and more. You felt like you might pass out each minute. Why was he doing this? That’s when he reached up to pull down his mask and you saw a ghastly face, skin peeled off, eyes bleeding, jagged teeth, a monstrous sight. You screamed and closed your eyes but when you woke up…. You were back where you began.
You struggled to catch your breath, staring at the man who had caused you such worry, Quentin Beck. “You fucking prick!” you shouted, clutching your chest, trying to keep calm. Your head still felt like it was spinning, a dizzying sensation coursing through your body as you tried to reel back into reality. “Why would you do that? Why would you mess with my head like that? Why would you-”
“Oh Ms. Stark,” he simply chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t you know? The game has just begun.”
“Stop!” you raced towards him but it was no use, his fingers already tapping at the device on his wrist, scenery changing.
Though this time, it was at an incredible pace. There was Tony, screaming at you, telling you he hated you, that he wished you had never come crawling back to him. There was your childhood bedroom, the screaming from your mother and stepfather being heard echoing down the halls. There was your school, bullies pushing you into lockers and tugging at your hair, laughing at you and calling you names. There were monsters from your nightmares, your worst fears come to life, visions so terrifying you felt as if paralyzed. One after another, small snippets crushed your soul, making you feel overwhelmed, scared, alone, questioning one after another. They all felt so real. Despite Beck’s machine and the conference room and the memory of being kidnapped, you felt each and every scene. Frustrated and confused, tears began to stream down your face, you screaming for him to stop.
This time when you returned to the conference room you barely even had enough energy or willpower to stand, instead tumbling towards the floor, a sobbing mess, trying to form a coherent sentence. He had ruined you, messed with your mind, made you question everything. You just wanted to disappear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he teased in a patronizing tone, walking over to you, staring down at where you had collapsed. “What happened to that spitfire stubbornness you inherited from your daddy? It’s gone all of a sudden? What a shame.”
“Fuck you!” you spat, still crying, eyes stinging from tears, heart racing, body aching. “Fuck you and your games! What do you want?”
He knelt down beside you, clutching your face and tugging up your chin to look at him, making you feel helpless. “I want you to give me access to the room,” he whispered and your heart sank in your chest. “You know which one.”
“N-no,” you sputtered out. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I really can’t do that-”
“I know you can,” he insisted. “I know you and your little Spidey-boyfriend broke in once. You can break in again.”
“That’s for the Avengers, that’s not for me, it was an accident the first time, I couldn’t have possibly done it on my own,” you rambled but he pressed a finger to your mouth to hush you.
“Enough talking,” he silenced. “Take me there.”
You bit down on your bottom lip, staring at him, trying to think of something, anything, but he was right. You were out of options. Defenseless. There wasn’t any other way. “Okay,” you surrendered.
“Affirmative,” Beck spoke into an earpiece you just now realized he was wearing. “Task accomplished, voluntary captive, proceed.”
He let go of your face, forcefully tossing you back to the ground, standing back and smirking, making you hate him even more. The conference doors swung open and the two suited men marched in, collecting you up from the ground, and you gave in.
“Drive faster,” Beck snarled as the two suited men occupied the front seats of the limousine and he accompanied you in the back.
“We’re driving as fast as we can, boss,” the one in the passenger seat reassured. “We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention towards ourselves.”
“If Tin Man or Tarantula Boy comes crashing down on top of this limousine, I swear to god I’m going to wring your throats,” he threatened. “Drive faster!”
You looked out the window as the skyscrapers and towers passed, wondering and hoping and praying that it would happen. That your dad would swoop in and scoop you right out of this limo, blast Beck in his stupid sorry face, and then beat the suited guys to a pulp. You had never seen him in action before. He had strictly kept you away from his whole superhero persona and business. But you secretly always dreamt of what it would be like to watch him save you from danger. You had only seen him wear the suit and use his powers in YouTube videos or on news snippets. If you weren’t so winded yourself, you’d try to unlock the door and tumble out onto the street and then race towards the nearest help. That was, if Beck didn’t catch you and strangle you to death beforehand. Instead you sighed, slumping down in your seat, defeated. The evil man sitting beside you failed to hide a slight smile upon noting your negative tone before gazing out his own window.
That was, until the entire car jostled and both of you stared at each other for a second, the tires screeching and everyone in the vehicle shouting, jerking to the left. You crashed into the nearest parked car, your eyes readjusting as the broken glass collected in your lap and the airbags went off at the front. You tried to catch your breath before the car jerked towards the right, signaling this was only the beginning of the attack. “Who the fuck?” Beck cursed beside you, holding his hand to his forehead that was now bleeding, unbuckling and jerking open his car door. You watched carefully, then came to your own senses, crawling out of the car and looking out.
“Y/n?” Spider-Man stood in the middle of the street, staring at you, head tilted. “Oh god. No, you were in that car, you could’ve been hurt, shit, I didn’t know-”
Caught off guard, he was tossed to the ground with a single blast of Beck’s device, skidding across the asphalt of the street. “I am Mysterio!” Beck roared, shooting another blast, causing Spider-Man to come tumbling down once again, this time into traffic. “Fear me!”
Cars swerved, a couple honked, others turned around, some parked and people got out to record the chaos on their phones. You stood in shock, scared he would be hurt by this maniac. “No!” you raced towards him before Beck got in your way, shouting out his ridiculous villain name before shooting another blast as your boyfriend got up, slinging a web up towards a street light and swinging away.
“Come back here, you stupid insect!” Beck roared.
“I’m actually an arachnid,” Spidey shrugged, shooting at web towards his arm only to miss, catching the wall beside him. He was such a fucking dork. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself despite the stress of the situation. That was, until you felt two arms come up behind you and put you in a headlock.
“Hey!” you screamed, causing your boy to whip his head around to stare at the scene.
“Y/n, no!” Spider-Man’s eyes went wide and as you began to choke you watched as he was swept off his feet from distraction once again, Beck stepping on his chest, pointing the weapon to his face.
“S-stop! D-don’t h-hurt him!” you shouted out a strangled cry, but the arms squeezed harder. It was the henchmen, the suited ones, they must’ve gotten out of the car. You eyes teared up and you began to feel lightheaded, trashing and kicking about as much as you could, blurry vision watching as Beck kicked Spider-Man in the face, making your chest heave up with emotion.
“Hey asshole!” you heard a familiar voice and instantly the arms dropped you, causing you to collapse to the ground. You groaned to yourself, realizing you had found yourself suffocating on the floor far too many times in the past three hours, before looking up, coming face to face with your father, fully suited. Your frown broke out into a grin.
“Iron Man?” you raised an eyebrow, a bit eager to see how this would play out.
“Hey Princess Peach,” he gave you a nod before extending his palm and blasting the suited man in the chest, sending him skidding down the asphalt. “You alright?”
“Y-yeah I’m fine,” you replied, a bit shocked at the brutal violence and crazy technology, but amazed all the same. Also, a bit annoyed at the nickname, but your clapback could wait for later.
“Good, cause I’ve got to go save your fool of a boyfriend,” he responded. “I’ll be back. You wait somewhere safe.” He zoomed off, rocket blasters lifting him up off the ground and soaring into the sky, then crashing down on top of Mysterio or Beck or whoever the lunatic was, sending Spidey free.
“Hell yes!” you did a fist pump before racing towards the nearest awning.
“Douchebag, why don’t you learn to leave my kids alone, huh?” Iron Man blasted him in the chest again, sending him towards the nearest building, but not nearly done with him yet. You almost wanted a bag of popcorn to munch on while watching the battle. Your eyes were fixated on the robot suit and the crazy screaming man until something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Fuck.
“Pe- I mean, Spider-Man!” you caught yourself, looking around, realizing you couldn’t shout his name, swallowing down the rest of your words before racing towards him.
The poor kid was sprawled out on the concrete, hacking up blood, and you raced faster, kneeling down beside him, gasping when you saw his suit. “Fuck, Peter-” you could barely breathe or speak. “A-Are you okay?”
“Hey…” he weakly responded, barely even able to lift his head.
“Jesus,” your face fell. His suit was torn in some places, blood stained in others, sticky webs tangled in other parts, and even some fabric singed. “Are you bleeding? Is that your blood?”
“I’m fine, y/n,” he whispered but he clearly wasn’t. Sounds of screams, blasts, and crumbling buildings surrounded you, but you didn’t care. You needed to make sure he was okay.
“Come on, we’re getting you out of here,” you insisted, trying to pick him up, but unable to do much but lift his torso. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to drag you.”
Struggling but persistent, you took him to the nearest building, thankful most people had already evacuated due to the violence in the streets. “Let’s go to the back,” Peter suggested. “I can’t have anyone see me.”
“Right, right,” you nodded, helping him towards the back of the store, helping him sit up behind a couple aisles before rushing to the front door and locking it for your own privacy, then racing back to him. “Come on baby, let’s take off your mask.” You carefully helped pry the fabric of the suit off of him, letting him gasp for air, but frowned upon the sight of the gashes on his jaw and the already forming bruise on his cheek. “Shit Pete, it’s so bad-”
“I-I’m okay,” he insisted, still coughing up a lung, clutching his side.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I should’ve been smarter, I didn’t know…”
“I’m just glad you’re alright,” he reassured, putting a hand up to your face, holding your cheek softly. “As soon as Mr. Stark and I realized you were missing, we rushed out to find you. We didn’t know that you were with Mysterio, I would have never crashed the car, I didn’t know you were in there-”
“I’m fine, really,” you gave a soft smile. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be okay,” he smiled back. “I’m Spider-Man.”
“Yeah,” you grinned. “I know.” You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and sighed, hugging him gently towards you, letting him lean his weight onto your shoulder.
“Y/n, c-can you maybe get m-me some water? Is that okay?” he stuttered out and you nodded quickly.
“Of course,” you replied. “God, I should’ve thought of that. Yeah, one second.” You slowly got up and looked for the nearest fridge and then pulled out a couple bottles, taking it back to him, uncapping one before handing it off. “It’s really important you hydrate.”
In that moment it was quiet. Silence. Peter leaning on you, occasionally coughing, slowly sipping on water, you playing with his hair while staring at his mask on the ground. This is what Tony meant when he told you that knowing was dangerous. When he had said that there were people who wanted to hurt you, to hurt Peter, to hurt him. You were part of this now, like it or not, and it was part of your responsibility, as well as his, that nothing happened to you. And you just went and ruined it. You pressed your lips together, feeling slightly guilty about it all, hating yourself. Not only were they constantly chasing after villains and going out on missions, they were now cleaning up after your mess. You lowered your head, feeling down, and Peter looked at you, concerned.
“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “You didn’t know.”
“Yeah but I should’ve been smarter,” you mumbled. “I should’ve been better.”
“Hey,” Peter frowned. “Don’t say that. Anyone else would’ve done the same. I’m just proud you didn’t give up. You kept fighting.”
“Y-yeah,” you nodded, thinking back to when you had given up, when you surrendered, when you agreed to take Beck back to the tower. You were weak.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he gave you a soft hug, smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “That’s what’s important, alright? Not what happened, not who was involved, just that everything’s better now. Okay?”
“Mhmm,” you replied, starting to get his point. “I guess you’re right.”
“Hey Romeo and Juliet!” you heard a knocking at the storefront window and you both groaned. “You gonna thank Prince Charming, or what?”
“I’ll get it,” you rolled your eyes, giving Peter another kiss on the cheek before heading to the door. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”
“We are going to have a talk, young lady,” he pointed at you, and even in the Iron Man suit, you could envision him narrowing his eyes.
“I know,” you sighed. “I know.”
“Where’s Spidey-Boy?” he asked, looking around.
“In the back,” you motioned. “Gave him some water and let him take off the mask so he can breathe.”
“That’s good,” he nodded. “I called Happy, he’ll be here any minute now to come pick us up.”
“What about the mission?” you asked, a bit panicked as you walked with him to the back of the store.
“Honey, that was the mission,” he explained. “We were supposed to track down Mysterio because he had stolen some high tech advanced weapons from me and was planning on stealing even more. Apparently we got the location wrong because, well hell, he was here with you instead of where we were headed in Berlin. Strangely enough, you getting captured was helpful, in a weird twisted way. Uh, anyways.” He clears his throat. “Don’t worry about the mission, we got it covered.” He pauses. “You okay, kiddo?”
“I will be,” you reassured.
“Good,” he put a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s patch up your boyfriend and then we can get home and talk.”
The lecture Tony gave you was not nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Rather than scolding you for irresponsibility and stupidity, he reprimanded you for giving him a whole ass heart attack and a half. He reinstated just how important you were to him, and Peter too, saying that he’d do anything to keep you two safe or if need be, save you. He also explained a couple more things about the case, detailing his past with Quentin Beck, who had coined the name Mysterio and foiled several of the Avengers’ and Tony’s plans in the past, as well as stolen his achievements and inventions. He gave you a big hug and then promised to update your emergency bracelet before giving you permission to hang out with Peter Parker, although a bit hesitant. Honestly, he wasn’t half that bad as a father after all.
“Hey,” you gave a half smile as you noticed Peter enter the lounge, holding a cold pack to his face. “How’s it going?”
“Got a lengthy talk from your dad,” he laughed, shrugging his bookbag off his shoulder and sitting down on the couch next to you, stretching an arm around your waist and planting a kiss on your forehead, tossing the cold pack to the side.
“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes and groaned. “I’m so sorry. What about?”
“He said I can’t let you and my emotions get in the way of my work,” he chewed on his lower lip. “He noticed how I would get distracted whenever you were involved. With the car and then with the suited guys, I was always knocked to the ground whenever I was vulnerable. He said it wasn’t acceptable, no matter who was on the other end of the line, that I had to keep my head straight. Because in the process of saving you, I might lose you, and I might end up dead myself.” He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “It’s ridiculous, seeing as I’d do just about anything for you, but… yeah. I guess he does have a point. People need me.”
“Of course,” you agreed, although warm hearted at his reflection. “There’s a world that needs saving.”
“That job’s for your dad,” he chuckled. “Me? I’m more of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”
“Sure…” you replied sarcastically. “As if you’re not a web slinging Avenger in your spare time.”
“Shhh!” he tickled your side playfully. “That’s a secret! How do you know?”
“Peter! Peter!” you laughed, pushing him away until he rescinded. “Don’t you know my weakness? How dare you defeat me with your tickles!”
“My bad,” he raised his hands in surrender, laughing a bit himself. He slowly trails off, staring at you, pressing his lips together. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Same,” you whispered. “And for you too.”
“No matter what happens, we’ll get through this,” Peter promised, smiling at you. “Together.”
“Absolutely,” you nodded, breaking out into a grin. “It’s not like I’m dating a superhero for nothing.”
❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?
❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader
❧ genre: fluff
❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol
❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.
In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a “glow up.”
Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.
Tom couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.
The brunette wanted to improve for you andhimself.
How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn’t know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.
This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn’t deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.
Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.
“How do so many people like this?” You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.
“How do you not?” You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.
Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend’s hand tightly, afraid of losing them.
“Where are we going?” You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.
“Before we party, we’ve got to get drinks,” they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.
Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.
Flinching in disgust, you commented, “Don’t you want to wash that, first?”
“What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me,” they shrugged, throwing you a can.
You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, “I don’t drink.”
They groaned, “Why are you such a doormat? Come on,” they nudged your shoulder, “Live a little.”
You laughed, “I can "live a little” just fine with water.“
"Ugh, fine. I’m guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit,” they spoke, sarcastically.
“Actually,” your eyes lit up, “I do.”
“You,” they pointed at you unsteadily, “annoy me, but since I already brought you along,” their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, “There.”
You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.
Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.
Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.
Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”
“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.
Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.
Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.
Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.
The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.
The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.
Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.
Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.
Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.
You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.
Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.
Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.
You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.
Water?You thought, confused.
Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.
“Tom,” you breathed.
After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.
“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.
“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.
Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.
“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”
You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.
The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.
“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.
“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.
“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”
You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.
You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”
Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.
Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.
After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.
Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.
Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.
You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”
“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.
“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”
❧prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?
❧pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin
❧genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l
❧warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?
❧a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm… shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh
In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress.
Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.
Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.
Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years.
To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.
“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.
“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”
Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man.
“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”
You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.
His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them.
You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”
Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.
“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”
He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”
He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand.
“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”
At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong.
For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.
Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.
“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer.
You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.
Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?”
You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.
“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”
“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.
“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.
“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red.
“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.
“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.
“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”
“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.
“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.
“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.
Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.
Tom.
“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.
“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.
Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”
Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.
It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.
Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.
His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers.
“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.
“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.
“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”
Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky.
“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.
Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”
Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”
You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.
“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.
“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.
You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.
“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.
Nodding, you give him a silent answer.
“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”
“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.
He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”
You turn to face him in shock, “You?”
“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”
With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”
“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.
You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”
The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”
“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.
He smiles lamentably, “I know.”
The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.
“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.
You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.
You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.
Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him.
Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.
There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.
