#especially after you moved away senior year and the thought for the first time popped extremely deep into the back of my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— RYOMEN SUKUNA || LET ME MARK YOU THEN

↳ featuring : ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of sex, mention of hickeys and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 22 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.7k

↳ synopsis : (modern!AU) after your lectures, you decided to pay your tattoo artist boyfriend a little visit only to then be persuaded to let him draw a tattoo design on you even though you never actually wanted a real one to be marked with.

↳ barista’s notes : just a little gift to you all before today’s episode and the reset the ‘coffees in progress’ list (wip) when i get enough sleep and after my disgusting online classes, i hope you enjoy the free cup of coffee everyone ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ - also i feel like this is the longest imagine i have ever posted ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ

Having a morning full of tedious lectures was not someone’s ideal day and it was definitely not yours. Although, there was nothing you could do but pursue them through with as much enthusiasm and determination that you could possibly muster while being impatient about the hands on the clock taking forever to move a single inch.

However, at this moment in time, you were able to escape the suffocating lecture hall after many hours for today and was now walking down the busy streets of Tokyo with a white plastic takeaway bag in one hand while the other was occupied with your tote bag that was resting on your shoulder, which surprisingly kept hold of some of your textbooks as well as your laptop giving you some reassurance that the bag that your boyfriend gave you was going to last for quite some time.

Looking around the busy quarter of the capital, you began to notice a few high school students roaming about here and there with some hanging out with their friends - mostly likely going to a cafe or to the nearest karaoke lounge that they could find - while other were either rushing home as they entered the station or to their part-time jobs that they had managed to obtain for a few extra bucks to save up for their next step in life. Noticeably, there were also a few adults out and about with some working as street-food vendors selling delicious treats that you would be craving if you weren’t so full while others were dressed extremely professional with their laptops out on their cafe/restaurant table to what seemed like they were on their lunch break.

‘He should be on his lunch break right now, but if not, I’ll just put his food in the shop’s fridge’

Continue walking to your destination, you finally reached to a quieter area with the city leading you to then stand in front of a glass order with a ‘closed’ sign in front along with another extremely noticeable sign proudly stating ‘Malevolent Shine’ to which if you had said that to any tattoo fanatic within Japan, they would instantly know what you were talking about.

Opening the door, there was a sudden noise of a ring being heard leading you to immediately look up to see the silver bell that you told him to arrange since he always got annoyed about the number of potential clients popping up without his acknowledgement only to tell him that they didn’t book an appointment at all causing him to become more irritated - and as a matter of fact, you couldn’t blame him at all.

Looking around the tattoo shop that you had entered, there wasn’t a single person in sight leading you to come to the conclusion that you were right about his lunch break since his assistant would be at the front desk if they weren’t. Although there was no one to greet you, the dark atmosphere did. It gave an odd sense of comfort with its hints of red that could calm a customer down if they were worried about the tattoo they were committing to having on their body or if it was their first - especially when it came to him.

“Oya~ ain’t you a sexy customer? But I’m afraid we’re closed, but I don’t mind giving you a private session if you want, kitten” someone smoothly stated, leading your eyes to slowly shift to the person who was leaning against the desk with a confident smirk on his face. There he was, the mastermind behind the whole shop itself.

“Well, I’m not coming in for a tattoo but I am here to give a little gift, Sukuna,” you mischievously stated, as you lifted the white bag with the takeaway you had ordered for the man himself, leading him to look at you in surprised before tilting his head indicating you to come to the back with him.

Following his lead, you placed the bag on his table once you reached the backroom before placing your tote on the floor beside the table’s leg so it didn’t fall, letting any of your precious studious contents to be lost as well as avoiding any damage to your laptop.

“I’m surprised you’re using the bag, kitten,” Sukuna suddenly commented, as he sat on his chair while pulling out the white styrofoam box of Thai food that he always ordered along with a bento box that was wrapped in a black cloth.

“Well, how could I not? You did buy it for me,” you quietly mentioned as you took off your black longline coat before placing it behind your chair since there was nowhere else to put it.

“Did you make this?” Sukuna quickly questioned as he lifted the bento box causing you to nod at his question once you saw what he meant leading you to state, “I didn’t know if you were going to stay back tonight, so I prepared some food for you in case,” causing Sukuna to smirk since you were right about your assumption and it did catch him by surprise since he didn’t mention it to you today when he left your shared apartment.

“Thanks,” he quietly muttered before pulling his chair closer towards you so he could place a lingering kiss on your cheek to show his appreciation towards you. “How was class?” he then asked, as he began to unwrap the cloth of the box to your surprise since you bought his favourite item from the Thai restaurant but made no mention of it.

“Annoying, it was suffocating in there but the lecture was interesting so that’s a plus,” you answered, as you began to scan his messy desk that displayed the many drawings that he was working on. Some of the designs that Sukuna was drawing were almost complete, while others were in the same situation but for some odd reason, it was crossed out as if he was unsatisfied with the outcome that it was going to have which lead you to be perplexed since some of the drawings were incredibly detailed and beautiful. However, you didn’t have the eyes of an artist like your boyfriend did, instead, you had the eyes of someone that was able to analyse things exceedingly well hence why you decided to pursue a career as a criminal lawyer.

“How has the shop been while I was away?” you asked, as you carefully picked up one of the designs that the tattoo artist seemed to have scraped leading him to answer with an annoyed huff. “A pain, there’s been so many dumbass people coming in thinking they could just walk in and get a tattoo done immediately without even booking a meeting,” Sukuna answered before taking a bite of the soy-glazed fried chicken you made as he then continued with, “it was a good idea to get the bell since I could see if it was a customer I knew or not,”.

Looking at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but smile at the man as he continuously munched the context in the box as if he hadn’t eaten in the past week when in reality he had been raiding the fridge back home only just this morning. Slowly, you turn your head back to the paper that you were holding as you continued to admire the work of art right in front of you.

To be honest, it was quite simple compared to all the other ones that were lying about on his work desk but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. The light sketch depicted a short section of a branch or stem decorated with different types of beautiful flowers and next to it was the same design with the only difference of it being coloured lightly in case the client wanted to have options.

“What happened here?” you asked before tilting the paper to the side, letting Sukuna have a glance at the design he decided to discard.

“Oh, the client cancelled since I wouldn’t have sex with her,” Sukuna casually stated leading you to nod before taking another look at the design with a small smile on your face. Sadly, it was such a waste since the design was beautiful and it was disappointing to not see Sukuna put this beautiful art into life.

Some people might wonder why you were so calm about the statement he had just given you, heck even his younger twin brother Itadori Yuji thought it was weird that it didn’t bother you as much as other girls would have been. The reason was that you were so used to him having female attention as well as male attention and it wasn’t a surprise when people would book an appointment with him just for a fling or hoping for something more than just that - and even though you were calm, there was also a hint of jealousy and fear within your heart that you couldn’t help.

It was like the first time you saw him in your second year of high school.

ꕥ

Stretching your arms, you had finally finished the last sheet of the budgets for the school clubs leading you to carefully clip the pile of sheets into the folder as you then stood up from your desk before quickly heading out of your homeroom, so you could give the documents to the student council president, who was a third-year within your school.

However, as you were walking past a few classrooms with some people greeting you with a smile, you came to a sudden halt when you saw a whole crowd of female and males students in front of you leading to a blockage of the halls and a blockage of the classroom you need to go through to hand the documents to your senior.

“Did you hear, I heard he was back?!”

“I can’t believe he’s back, I missed him so much!”

“I like Yuji’s kind and goofy personality, but how could you not love a bad boy like him?”

‘Bad boy?’

Carefully, you managed to find a gap between the sea of students and forcibly made yourself fit within the gap before badly struggling to make it through the arc of the classroom door leading you to nearly trip the second you got the chance to push through the gap to ender the class. Quickly looking around, you found your senior sitting next to someone who looked like your friend and basketball club member Itadori Yuji - well more like a mature replicant of the boy you were used to. However, unbothered by the sudden appearance of the new third-year, you speedily made your way to the council president and handed him the booklet that he needed today leading you to receive his gratitude.

Yet, before you could even take a single step away from your senior, you unexpectedly felt someone grab your wrist causing you to quickly turn around to find Itadori’s replica behind you leading to a few gasps coming from the students from the outside as well as in the homeroom.

“Is there an issue?” you firmly asked, as you looked down at his hand that had a tight grip on your wrist causing you to have a small glance at the two black bands that were tattooed around his wrist - even though it was prohibited to have any in your school, you weren’t the type to scold someone for having them since you weren’t sure on how the teacher’s thought it affected someone’s education.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” the salmon-haired third-year curiously asked, as he began to admire your wrist by gently turning it for your veins to come into view before beginning to trace your skin with the tip of his thumb causing a light shiver to go down your spine due to the ticklish feeling as well as his deep voice which was the complete opposite to what you thought it was going to be.

‘So this is the infamous Sukuna everyone was talking about’

“Not really,” you answered as you looked at him causing his eyes to look back at you before you continued with “I don’t think it would suit me at all,”.

“I disagree,” Sukuna counteracted, as he went back to admire the blank canvas of your wrist that he wanted to draw on so badly. No not draw. Mark. “I think you’ll suit something, maybe something on your neck or collarbone at best actually,” Sukuna mentioned leading you to give him a confused expression before he then proceeded with his speech by saying, “I’ll convince you one day and mark you brat”,

‘What...did….he….just….call….me..?’

“Ah...good luck with that idiot,” you stated in an annoyed tone leading to a few of the admiring student to gasp at your wording as well as sudden confident as they were scared on what was going to happen to you now since Sukuna wasn’t the type to tolerate insults in a nice way no matter what gender you were. However, exceeding the audience’s assumptions, Sukuna began to smirk excitedly at your attitude as he suddenly found you more interesting than any other girl he has met at the back of the school.

“Be prepared, little kitten”

ꕥ

‘That nickname….’

Back then Sukuna was known to be a playboy from what you could recall, every week there was news on the new girl he had managed to convince to meet at the back alley of the school while you were just being a model student with the dream of going to law school. However, during the middle of the school year, you began to realise that the common scandalous news that seemed to be popular enough for it to be on the front cover of the newspaper began to gradually fade as Sukuna slowly pushed himself into your life since you were close with his twin brother due to your friend being part of the basketball team as the assistant coach - she even mentioned that ever since Sukuna came into your life he had stopped his acts and change slightly because of you to which, of course, you denied at the time.

It was during the first term of your third-year that you agreed to give Sukuna a chance since he was constantly annoying you by popping up at the school gate after school to ‘walk you home’ ever since his graduation - when in reality it was to take you out somewhere - without fail even when you had to stay in a few hours. However, you had given him three conditions since you were still conscious of the consequences of dating someone with such a disgraceful built reputation - much to his dismay, he shockingly agreed.

If you are going to have a fling with someone behind my back, don’t think about seeing or talking to me again.

I know you are sexually active, but you have to wait until I’m ready.

Don’t tattoo me.

Let’s just say that Sukuna had managed to keep condition number one in check and you didn’t have to worry about it at all, while with condition number two he didn’t have to wait that long for you to give in to your desires which you could tell he certainly enjoyed when you finally gave him the ‘okay’.

Number three though...

“Do you want to try that design out?”

Breaking from your daze, you quickly turned your head to find your boyfriend staring at you - with the bento box practically empty at this point - while tilting his head to the paper that was still within your grasp.

“I think you giving me hickeys are enough in my opinion, babe” you jokingly mentioned leading to both you and Sukuna laughing at each other slightly.

“I mean, do you want me to draw it on you to see how it looks?” he then asked, causing you to look at the floral design one last time before giving him a hesitant nod.

‘Trying it out won’t hurt right?’

“I need a confident answer little kitten, where did that feisty attitude of yours back in high school go?” Sukuna teased, causing you to give him the side glance before giving him the verbal permission that he wanted, leading him to smirk at you since knew his mockery would get you to give him what he wanted since you were also the stubborn type - a side that he always loved to play with.

Grabbing his pen and a black pot full of his thin-tipped coloured skin markers, he wheels his chair even closer to your before pausing, leading you to look at him in confusion since you had already pulled your wrist in front of him, the same area he had grabbed back in high school.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothing today,” Sukuna muttered as he began to fiddle with the collar of your white silk dress shirt causing you to look at him with extreme confusion before mentioning, “well it is getting colder since the Autumn season is coming around,” leading him to hum in an understanding tone as he continued to play with the smooth fabric.

“I want to draw on your collarbone area, I don’t want to draw on the area where the client wanted it to be,” Sukuna stated as he lightly pushed away your wrist leading you to realise why he paused. “You can,” you quickly mentioned leading the tattoo artist to look at you to see if you were lying, only to see nothing but the light of the trust within your eyes.

Slowly, Sukuna began to reach over to the top button to then unhook it from its loop before continuously doing the same with the others until enough skin of your shoulders were exposed with the top half of your shirt resting on the side of your arms to which then he slowly moved away the right-hand side of your bra strap to fully expose the canvas that he wanted to mark so eagerly.

Admiring the skin that was in front of him, Sukuna began to trace the area with his thumb before leaning in to place a chaste kiss on the same side of your neck before cradling your face on the other side with his other hand - as if it was a way for him to say ‘thank you’ for letting him do this.

Regrettably pulling away, Sukuna quickly grabbed his black pen as he then leaned in towards your collarbone to start drawing the outline of his design on his now favourite canvas causing you to shiver somehow due to how ticklish and weird the sensation felt when the ballpoint pen continuously gently gilded upon your skin. However, what got you shaking the most was the constant feeling of your boyfriend’s breath being felt on your upper body now that your shirt was basically off - it wasn’t completely off to the same feeling when you were underneath him the first time you allowed him to make his claim on you.

“Baby, it feels ticklish,” you commented, the second you felt a different sensation upon your skin leading Sukuna to glance up to check if you were alright like you were an actual client before placing another kiss on your jawline in a way to comfort you since he had switched to his skin markers to colour in the design he had drawn on you.

“You’re being a good kitten though, you’re not moving a lot then I thought you would,” the tattoo artist whispered leading you to quiver as his deep voice was not helping so much with your beating heart - erratic to the point where you thought he could hear or even feel.

Due to Sukuna concentrating, you couldn’t help but keep silent to help him continue with his work causing you to glance around your room with your eyes before landing upon a wall where there was a multitude of messages written leading you to carefully scan the writings that were visibly presenting themselves.

As expected, there were messages of encouragement - not that the arrogant Sukuna needed it to be honest, but it was nice of the client to do so - and a few drawings from other tattoo artists that Sukuna had famously done. However, not to your surprise, there were a few numbers here and there causing you to sigh since you couldn’t help it - you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for being an extremely handsome man.

Unexpectedly, you felt another kiss being placed upon your cheek causing you to look towards your boyfriend with a smile on your face - it was as if he knew what you were looking at. “I’m finished by the way,” Sukuna announced, causing you to look at him with widened eyes since the drawing session was a little faster than you had anticipated.

Reaching over to a drawer in his desk, Sukuna suddenly pulled out a mirror before passing it to you, leading you to lift up the little instrument to see the result that was drawn on your skin.

“You changed the design,” you quietly stated, as you began to tenderly trace the design with your index finger as you began to admire the piece of art that was masterfully drawn on your collar bone. The tattoo beautifully depicted a single strand of a blooming lavender across your collarbone with each petal in different shades of purple while the buds that weren’t in bloom were in a slight pale pink shade making you smile more since Sukuna drew this straight from his head causing you to have a hint of proudness for him.

“I wasn’t going to give you that previous design, it doesn’t suit you one bit,” the salmon-haired artist mentioned as he continued with, “I’m not going to let that disgusting design touch your skin, especially since this is the first time you let me mark you somewhat,” as he then moved behind you before placing his chin on your shoulder to look at you through the mirror you were holding.

“I might let you mark me permanently then,” you suddenly announced causing your boyfriend to look at you with a surprised look on his face leading you to giggle at his reaction.

“Yeah, let’s break condition three then, you can mark me this one time,” you informed him as you turned to look at him, causing Sukuna to give you his classic smirk before possessively grabbing your chin leading him to lean closer to you.

“Let me mark you then”

3K notes · View notes

raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Thanks T

Summary: A dad is supposed to be your rock. Someone you can go to when times are hard. Someone whos supposed to protect you. WHat happens when your dad doesn’t fit the bill, and Tony does?

A/n: Hello yall! So this story hit really close to home for me lmao. It was mentioned that there aren’t any good dad/step dad Tony fics so I hope you like it. Everyone thank @alphaandromedae97 and an anon for this fic.

Hope yall enjoy!

Your life was complicated.

How can it not be when Tony “billionaire playboy” Stark is your step dad.

Yes you read that right, step dad. It’s funny really, turns out he has a thing for waitresses that aren’t interested in him at first. That waitress being your mom.

They met when she was working a shift at the restaurant she works at, and he came in with Avengers. He expected her to fall at their feet like everyone else did, but she just scoffed and asked for their order. Pretty epic.

Then one long montage later, and they ended up getting married. You were happy for your mom, of course. Deep down, Tony is a good man and you knew he’d do anything for your mom. And he’s always been nice to you, making sure you were okay with him proposing and then you moving upstate with him and your mom. He always made sure you felt included, maybe a little too much. He actually took interest in your life, which you’ll always appreciate.

But you were a total daddy's girl by heart. You always felt like you had a close relationship with your biological father. He was a good dad, he took you out to movies, went to recitals, and always made sure to take you to the father-daughter dance your school district put on every year. It was your tradition. But after your parents divorced a few years ago, it seemed like he was getting more and more distant from you. He stopped calling as much, would skip out on your days to visit him and when you did visit, he’d lock himself in his office, claiming he had to finish some paperwork. It broke your heart, knowing that a man you were so close with, seems to be detaching himself from your life. But, in his defence he always managed to take you to the father-daughter dance. He always did. No matter how long the both of you went without seeing each other, no matter how long you haven’t spoken, he always made sure to take you.

That act alone, reassured you that he did still love you. He was just busy. In fact, you were getting ready to go to the final father-daughter dance, as you were going to graduate this year and therefore you would be too old to attend the next year. This year was especially important to you. You wanted this night to be perfect.

And you were positive your father would pull through as he has the past years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were filled with excitement as you tried on multiple different dresses. You always liked this part of getting ready, the dress shopping.

The confidence you feel when you finally found the right dress. The happy feeling you and your mother had, browsing through the dress shop downtown. Tony offered to buy you a custom designer dress, but you couldn’t accept. This was the shop you’ve been going to since you were a little girl, since you went to your very first dance with your dad. Call it nostalgia or tradition, but you couldn’t shop anywhere else.

“ Hey ma! I think I found the one.” You shout from the dressing room, finally finding your dress after hours of searching.

“Come out here and let’s see bug” She replies from where shes seated. You take a deep breath, soothing the wrinkles on the dress and walking outside. Your mother gasps as she see the gown. It was beautiful really. It was a glittery, lilac purple floor length dress with spaghetti straps. And it even had pockets! You were absolutely obsessed. Plus, you could probably use it as a prom dress if you really wanted to.

“Oh baby...you look so beautiful...” You mom says, tearing for the millionth time.

“Ma, are you crying again?!” You laugh, “ Come on, that's the fifth time you’ve cried since we’ve been in the store!”

She laughs with you, sniffling as she wipes her tears,” I’m sorry, but you’re getting so big, it feels like it was only yesterday we were walking in this shop to get your first dress...and now...” She starts to cry again.

You smile softly, understanding what your mom was saying. You were in kindergarten when you first started attending these meetings, now you’re a senior in highschool.

“Alright, no more crying. It’s a happy day for you. Has your father called texted you when he was going to come pick you up?” Your mom asked wiping her tears.

You frown, “ No, I haven;’t hear from him since two weeks ago when he said he wanted to get lunch.”

You can see your mom roll her eyes in the mirror, “ Mom he’s just busy. I’m sure he’ll call when he can.”

“Oh sure, I just hate that he doesn’t answer you fast enough.”

“I know ma, but he has work” You argue, “ He calls when he can, and that's okay.”

Your mom sighs, knowing that you were stubborn when it comes to your father.

“ Well, let’s get this wrapped, Tony wants to get lunch and we need to convince him to get something other than shawarma.”

You roll your eyes, “ God, what’s with that man and shawarma. It’s like his life line or something”

“I know!”

After the two of you buy the dress, you pick up Tony from the HQ. You loved the drive up there,mainly because of the scenery, but also cause you can see Cap running laps outside.

“Hell my love, hey kiddo” Tony greets switching seats with your mom.

‘Hey T” You greet, smiling at the man.

“Did you find the dress?” He asks, driving away from his place of work and to a restaurant.

“Yeah! It’s like the one I told you I wanted. I was surprised it was there to be honest.” You reply, “ Mom practically dehydrated herself shopping though.”

“Oh? How many times did she cry this time? Cause she was crying earlier when she was getting read-- OW! Hey I’m driving” He exclaims as your mom swats his arm.

You giggle at their antics, chest warming with the sight of your mom happy again.

“She cried five times while we were shopping. Five!”

“Five? I didn’t know the human body had that much water.”

The two of you chuckled as your mom made an offended noise.

“I hate that the two of you get on so well.” She pouts, “ And excuse me if I’m a little sad my baby is growing up so fast.”

You tune out the rest of their conversation as your phone buzzes.

Dad

Hey kid, I’m gonna have to meet you at the school tomorrow. I have a meeting that’s gonna run late.

You

Okay daddy, I’ll see you there <3

You frown, your dad always managed to pick you up from the house. He used to take you to eat before the dance. And he always used to take the day off, devoting his time to you.

“ Uh oh, someone's frowning back there.” Tony remarks, “ What’s wrong kiddo, did a character off that show you like die/”

“Uh no, ma do you think you can drop me off at the dance tomorrow? Dad said he has a late meeting and won’t be able to pick me up.”

Your mother makes eye contact with Tony. They both know how your father has been flaking on you and how it breaks your heart that he does. It makes Tony especially mad because it remind him of his childhood. How his father really didn’t pay attention to him unless he was criticizing his life choices.

“ Hey y/n, I can drop you off if you want.” Tony offers, “ I really don’t mind.”

You smile, “Thanks T.”

“No problem kid.”

And with that he pulls into the restaurant parking lot.

As your family is seated, you take a quick look around the restaurant, wanting to see the reactions of the patrons when they realize Tony Stark is in the building. But as you do, you see a man who looks very familiar. But before you can take a closer look your mom interrupts you.

“Y/n, you know it's rude to stare.”

“Oh sorry mom.”

So you take a seat and continue with your meal. You tune out your mother and Tony’s conversation as you can’t take your mind off of that man. You take a quick glance back while your parents discuss the dessert menu.

That’s when you realize that the man was your father!

You stand up from the table and make your way towards the man. Surprised to see him there because as far as you know, he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

“Daddy?” You ask cautiously. The man tenses up before turning to you.

“Y/n? Honey what are you doing here?” You notice he doesn’t make an attempt to get up and hug you.

And you also notice the second plate of food across from him and a napkin stained with what looked like lipstick.

“Um, T and Ma wanted to grab dinner.. I thought you were at a meeting?”

“This is a five star restaurant, and you just stopped in?” He asks ignoring your question, “ Of course Stark did..”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Everytime your mother was even close to being happy, your dad always found something wrong with the person she was with. But he seemed to have a strong disliking towards Tony for some reason.

“Um right...So you told me you were in a meeting? That’s why I couldn’t come over after dress shopping?”

“Right! A meeting...I’m currently in right now.” He says quickly looking towards the women's bathroom, “ You should go back to your table hon, my boss is really strict”

“Oh right, sorry” You say dejected, “ I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” your dad says with a soft smile, “ I love you Bug.”

You smile at the nickname your parents gave you, “ I love you too pop.”

And with that you walk off, back to your mother and Tony. You can see they’re trying to hide the fact that they were watching by covering their face with the dessert menus.

“Oh here you are, we got you a tiramisu” Tony says nonchalantly, pushing the dessert towards you.

“Uh huh” You hummed teasingly, “ Dad says hi by the way.”

“ Oh does he now?” You mom said not convinced, “ That’s nice of him.”

You hummed, mouthful of cake signaling that you were done with the conversation. Your family finished up their meals and signaled for the check. As you were walking out the restaurant, you turned to say goodbye to your dad, only to see his “boss” was back from the restroom.

Only this boss was a 5′3, brunette bombshell in a tight red dress and having her neck kissed by the man you call your father.

Your stomach felt sick.

“Oh gross, I really didn’t need to see that.” You mutter catching the attention of Tony who was behind you.

“See what kid?” He asks following your gaze, “Oh. Yikes is that even allowed? I didn’t know your dad was a vampire.”

You snort, “ Oh god T, that's disgusting.”

He just laughs and pats your head, “ Come on, lets go before your mom yells at us.”

You smile, but you wondered why your dad didn’t tell you that he was on a date. Or that he was even seeing someone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thoughts of your fathers secrets where wiped from your brain as you scrambled to get ready for the dance the next day.

Tony surprised you and your mom with a mani-pedi day at 10am and a hair appointment for you at 1pm. After you had to get shoes for your dress at the mall and then be home by 5pm to get your dress and makeup on, take pictures, and then be out the door by 7pm to take pictures with your dad, then finally be at the dance by 8pm when doors open.

The whole day you were messaging your dad about how excited you are, getting similar replays back. He pays for you shoes and complements your hair.

Your heart swells as you think about how hard it was in the beginning of the divorce. But your father always tried his best to spend time with you and made sure you knew he loved you.

It was hard on you at first, but you appreciate that he tried for you. The fact that he’s been taking you to this dance since you were a little girl is proof enough. You were a little sentimental, this was your last dance after all.

You smiled looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful in your dress. Your makeup was done to perfection and you had gotten a silk press in your hair. You felt like a princess. You heard your mom sniffle.

“Mom, again?” You laugh,turning to face her.

“I’m sorry! You just look so beautiful!” she says with a sad smile, “ God, you grew up so fast bug”

You roll your eyes, but feel the tears spring to your eyes as well, “ Ma! Stop I can’t ruin my make up”

You both laugh as you fan your eyes

“You ready?” She asks, “ Tony’s waiting for you in the living room.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking out the door. You let your mom walk down the stairs first. You can hear Tony and you assume Happy in the living room. You finally make it down the stairs. It turns out it was Tony, Happy, and Peter Parker. Your mom was chatting with them and they all had their back turned to you.

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, catching their attention.

You see Peter stiffen as he gazes at you and mutters a soft “Wow”

You blush, what can you say he’s a cutie.

Happy gives you a comforting smile.

And Tony?

He has a soft look on his face, “ Jeez kid, you clean up well.”

You laugh, “ Better than you old man, what's up with the pants?”

He had on Iron Man pj pants.

“Oh hush.” He laughs, “ You look beautiful kiddo.”

You look down with a grin.

“Oh pose for some pictures!” You mom says excitedly, “ Go Y/n, by your self first and then with me. Then with Tony.”

You sigh, knowing how long it was gonna take.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally after three million pictures, your mom and Tony drove you to the school.

“Okay bug, is your dad here?” Your mom asks looking around at the group.

“Yeah! He should be inside.” You say kissing your mom goodbye and waving to Tony. You show the ticket and waltz in the gym.

You smile and wave at classmates and parents. These people you’ve known since you were a child and who knew you. You finally got to the table you always sat at woth your dad.

It was empty.

You frown and look at your phone.

On my way pop!

It said the message was read.

“He must be on driving” You think to yourself as you sat at the table.

But then twenty minutes passed. Then an hour. then two

You were still there, waiting for your dad to come. You sent five messages and they all remained unopened.

You looked around the gym, seeing a few parents looking at you with pity in their eyes. You can barely stand it.

You got up and went to the restroom, trying not to cry. and in the restroom you tried calling you father, but you were sent to voicemail. The you finally got a message.

Dad

“I’m so sorry bug, I can’t make it to the dance. I have a meeting today. :(”

You felt dejected. Humiliated.

Your father has rearranged visitation days, skipped out on little crimonied and rectitals you’ve had, but this by far was the most disappointing thing he has done.

He promised multiple times that he’d be here. Never has he ever skipped out on the dance before. ANd he knew how important this was to you. Thi was your last dance, and he ruined it.

You let yourself cry. You sobbed as you realized that your father has been distancing himself from you. That your relationship hasn’t been okay for a while. And you just didn’t want to let go.

You sigh as you realize you’ve been in the restroom for a while. You stand up and look at your face. Despite the red eyes and slightly red nose, your make up was pretty much intact.

“Huh at least my setting spray hasn’t let me down.” You say to your self. After a few mintues of calming down, you walk out of the restroom and bump into a figure.

“Sorry” you mutter about to pass the person.

“Gee you took a while in there, I told you not to get that coffee kid.”

You quickly look up and se Tony.

Dressed in a suit, flowers in hand.

“Hey kid.” He says softly

“what..what are you doing here?” You whisper, tears filling your eyes again.

“Well apparently you need an rent a dad, and I happened to be in the neighborhood.” He jokes, then says, “ I’m sorry your dad didn’t come kiddo, and I know I’m not him, and quite frankly I’m glad I’m not. But I do love you like you’re my own, and well...yeah here I am.”

You stay quiet, looking at Tony in wonder. Touched that he did this for you.

“Of course if you just want to leave then we can just get out of here” He rambles nervously, “ But you gotta tell me kid cause I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Can we get ice cream after?” You ask him

“What?”

“After the dance, we should go get ice cream.”

“Uh sure?” Tony says, “So what do you usually do at these things?”

You laugh and steer him to the tables where they have all the activities at. You actually have more fun with him than you had recently wit your dad. Tony is definitely more competitive than your father and treats every game as a challenge. Not like something he’s humoring just for his kid. He celebrates with you instead of telling you to calm down. He chats with the adults, is nice to the kids, and does the goofy dances with you. Seeing Iron Man do the chicken dance is something you didn’t know you needed till now. He managed to turn this horrible night to one of the best ones you’ve had in quite a while.

Finally the father daughter dance started to signal the end of the dance. Tony bowed dramatically and said in a horrible british accent, “ Lady Y/n?”

You laugh and make your way to the dance floor. You’re both quiet for a bit, snorting at how serious the other dads and their daughters look.

“Hey T?” You say softly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah kid?”

“Thank you. It’s nice to know that one of my dad's isn’t a total asshole.” You say. knowing that this is the first time you referred to Tony as your dad.

His eyes get misty as he clears his throat,

“Anytime, bug”

#tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #tony is a step dad #step parents #fluff #tony is a good dad #reader insert #x reader #marvel x reader

2K notes · View notes

heliads · 3 years

Text

The Football Player (Part One)

Based on this request: “Bucky is a football player and you are a fan of the team but you're also really shy. Secretly Bucky also developed a crush on you. He sees you getting mocked by some idiots and he gets in between to stand up for you. Later then he asks you for a walk and he kisses you.”

masterlist / part two

According to every ounce of common sense still left in your body, you should be paying attention. You’re in school, might as well actually learn something, right? You have a test next period, and if you were smart or wanted to pass at all, you should be focusing right now, tracking every single word that your professor is saying. The only problem is that you’re not doing this whatsoever. No, your gaze is instead directed out the window, where a certain football team is just beginning practice.

It’s not like you were intentionally trying to get distracted. You had come to the classroom right on time, pencils lined up and notebook out, ready to start the day. Your gaze just happened to accidentally shift to the window instead, and when you saw number seventeen in red and gold, well, how could you focus on math at a time like this? You’d seen James Barnes around the school many times, but he never ceases to amaze you.

Honestly, even talking about him tends to light a fire behind your cheeks. You’ve seen this movie dozens of times before: shy, studious girl falls for the football player, hijinks ensue. However, this isn’t a Hollywood blockbuster. Bucky is a star member of the team, and you’re just a fan of your school’s football games. Whenever you do icebreakers in class and you’re forced to describe yourself in one word, you always reach for ‘bookish’ or ‘smiling’. Certainly never ‘superbly athletic’ or ‘on Bucky’s radar in any way’. Those aren’t even one word.

However, you never quite seem to let yourself be brought back to reality. Time and time again, you don the red and gold colors of your school- Mid-Capital University, or MCU, ready to go cheer on the team and your favorite player especially so. In fact, there’s a game tonight, you’ll be going with your friend. No matter how many times you laugh at yourself, though, you can’t shake your crush. You doubt it’ll be going away anytime soon.

The night is young, the shouts loud. You cheer with your friend and the rest of the school as the football team runs out onto the field. Their manager, a Mr. Stark, watches from the sidelines, yelling directions or complaining about how much the equipment is going to cost. The team jogs over to their captain, Steve Rogers, to huddle up and discuss final strategy. Steve is a senior, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s chosen Sam Wilson to take his place as captain next year. He’s Bucky’s best friend, so you’ve heard, although they pretend to fight often enough that you’d think they were rivals.

Bucky is here as well now, eyes glinting from underneath his helmet. He’d had long hair for the longest time, but when he’d cut it over the summer there had been more than a few desolate sighs from the cheerleaders. You had to smile at that- at least you weren’t head-over-heels enough to give up your crush based on his hair. You weren’t that bad yet.

As you watch, the team takes their position. They’ll be playing their rivals tonight, the Hydras. Steve heads to the back, Bucky and Sam on either side of him. Further along the team, you can begin to recognize other players- Scott Lang, a kid who’s scrawny off the field but seems to grow twice in size the second he puts on his gear, Peter Parker, the freshman who managed to make it on the team within his first few days, and Natasha Romanoff, the one girl on the team who’s got a death stare promising she’ll tear any objectors to shreds.

The whistle blows, and the teams are off. You watch with bated breath as Bucky darts left, right, catches the ball from Steve and takes off down the field. Apprehension grows across the student body until at last- touchdown, your school! You rise with the others, cheering in unison. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you could swear Bucky looked at you with a smile just as he started off back towards the line.

The rest of the football game is a breeze. Your school wins easily, and Bucky definitely did his part to secure the victory. The next day, everyone is still buzzing over the catches and near misses with their friends, not wanting to miss a single moment. You suppose it’s still on your mind, which is why you’re frozen in your tracks when your new lab partner sits down beside you in biology.

It’s Bucky. Of course it is Bucky. Of course, the one time you have to have a new lab partner in class, your teacher manages to have the terrible luck to place you with the one person who reduces you to a blushing mess every time he steps within ten feet of you. Bucky slings his backpack down beside his chair, offering you an easy smile like a flyer, free of charge.

“I’m Bucky.” He says, and you remember yourself. “I know. I saw the game, you were really good. I’m Y/N, uh, by the way.” Bucky’s smile grows even wider when you mention the game, if that’s possible. “You saw the game? That’s so nice of you.” You feel like you can’t form a coherent thought. “Yeah, I went with my friends. Your team won.” You want to slap yourself in the head- of course he won, he was there. You’re stating the obvious.

But Bucky doesn’t laugh at you, or act like you’ve said anything strange. He just nods, shoulders slumping slightly as he thinks about last night’s game. “It was hard. I guess every time you go against your rival school the pressure’s just ten times worse. It took a lot to just run out on the field.”

He stiffens slightly after he says this, like he wasn’t intending on sharing that secret just yet. However, you’re just grateful that you’re not the only one saying whatever pops into your head. “I can’t blame you. If it’s worth anything, though, I thought you were great.” Bucky’s beaming smile is back, brighter than ever. “It’s worth a lot from you.”

Maybe this sudden seating arrangement won’t be that bad after all.

Your friend catches up to you the second you leave the biology room behind. She looks back and forth between you and Bucky’s retreating form, something in between astonishment and a teasing grin lingering on her face. “Tell me I didn’t just make that up. Tell me you’re actually the lab partner of the one and only Bucky Barnes, the guy you’ve been crushing on for, like, forever.”

You shove her slightly, although you can’t help but smile. “It’s true. I don’t know how, but it’s true. Guess the bio teacher really liked me that period.” Your friend loops an arm around your shoulders. “It’s not just him who really likes you. Did you see the way he was looking at you? All through class, he kept stealing glances. I think Bucky Barnes has a crush on you.”

You stop in your tracks. “That’s impossible. He would never.” Your friend crows in victory. “But he did! You don’t stare at somebody like that unless you’re hopelessly in love with them. It’s the same way you stare at him.” Indignation rises in you like a spring. “I don’t stare at him. I just observe, casually.” Your friend snorts. “Well, you casually observe him a lot. Honestly, I just see this as a success. If you can get the star football player to fall in love with you, then I think I can win the lottery or something.”

Even after your laughter rises and dies away, you can’t help but think about what your friend said. Surely it’s impossible- Bucky would never so much as talk to you outside of class, let alone have a crush on you. But your friend wasn’t exactly lying. You had seen Bucky out of the corner of your eye, the way a smile lingered on his lips when he glanced over at you. That wasn’t just nothing, right? Honestly, this whole lab partners deal might be more pressing than you ever thought possible.

The only way to move on is to go through the next day, and the next. After that, however, you have biology again, and that means finding your place next to Bucky Barnes and pretending like your heart rate isn’t skyrocketing the second he smiles up at you, saying he’s glad to see you again. Your friend keeps stealing glances your way, eyes wide and thumbs raised in an expression of impressed awe.

As it turns out, your friend isn’t the only one to see something between you and Bucky. You make your way out of the bio room, unable to hide a smile, although your happy outlook disappears the second somebody blocks your path across campus. This somebody just happens to be Mandy Fleming, bottle blonde junior who thinks she owns the school, and her entourage of preening followers.

Mandy folds her arms over her chest, considering you. Her lip purses. Evidently she finds something lacking. “You know, I don’t think we’ve had a proper conversation in a while. We need to make a few things clear.” You force a smile, trying to step around her. “Can we do it later? I have places to be.” Mandy curls her lip. “I don’t wait. This can’t wait. See, you’ve developed the unfortunate habit of spending too much time around Bucky Barnes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We’re lab partners. What, you want me to ignore him?” Mandy’s eyes narrow. “That would be preferable. Next class, you’re going to go up to the professor and tell him you want to switch partners. Make something up about wanting to be closer to the board or something, I’m sure he’ll believe it.” You can barely listen to her. “And why would I do that?” Mandy takes a step closer. “Bucky is mine, not yours. I’m going to need you to back off.”

You stare at her. “You want me to switch lab partners all because a boy you’re not even dating is sitting next to me?” Mandy’s head rears back. You’ve obviously struck a nerve. “Listen here, honey. This isn’t an issue about me, it’s an issue about you. What, did you really think Bucky would ever even give you the time of day? You’re a nobody, a nothing, somebody not even worth a fraction of his time. Honestly, I’m doing him a favor by getting rid of you. He doesn’t want to see you, not for a second.”

With every word, you can feel your confidence plummeting. Mandy notices this, a smirk burning even deeper into her lips. Sometimes, you swear she can smell fear just like an animal. “You’re worried because you know I’m right. You’re pathetic, really, and Bucky Barnes wants nothing to do with you.” Just as you feel like you want to go back to your dorm room and never see the light of day again, a voice rings out from behind you. It’s a voice you recognize instantly, and one that Mandy does too, as she shrinks back the second she hears it.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Bucky steps forward, taking a place next to you. Mandy forces a smile. “I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are just having a little chat about homework. We had homework, right, a textbook reading and-” Bucky cuts her off coolly. “I heard every word. If you think I’d want to choose you over her, you’re wrong. She’s a hundred times the girl you’ll ever be.”

Mandy stammers, fishing around for words but coming up with nothing. It’s almost cathartic to watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Y/N and I have somewhere to be. And if I hear you trying to talk to her like that again, believe me when I say that this won’t be the worst I’ll say to you.” Bucky offers you a hand like a proper gentleman, and you take it, letting him steer you away from Mandy and her followers, who are still gaping at your backs.

The second you’re out of earshot, Bucky turns to you, apologies and regret written all over his face. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s all my fault- she’s been trying to flirt with me all semester, and I finally gave up and rejected her, and now she’s taking it out on you. I wish none of this ever happened.” You manage to force a smile. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

Bucky looks at you, concern still lingering in his eyes. “Are you sure? I can talk to them again if you think they’ll bother you.” You laugh at that. “Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly alright.” Bucky smiles at that. “Well, if you are perfectly alright, I was wondering if you were busy this Saturday. I saw this new park that opened, and it looked really interesting, but if you’re busy or something we can totally do something else, or nothing at all, whatever you-”

You cut him off, unable to hide a smile at his rambling. “I think that sounds excellent. I’ll see you there?” Bucky’s face lights up. “I’ll see you there.” He gathers his courage one last time, then leans forward to kiss you. He flashes you one last perfect smile before disappearing around the corner, leaving you with a smile and the memory of his lips on yours. When you look up, you see scores of jealous girls staring at you, but for once, the attention doesn’t bother you. Why should it? You have Bucky at last, and he doesn’t want anyone but you.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise

297 notes · View notes

wh6res · 3 years

Text

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

202 notes · View notes

gojo-x-reader · 3 years

Text

Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.”

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

536 notes · View notes

ysljoon · 3 years

Text

Daddy’s Favorite Student|DILF!Kim Seokjin x Reader

This fanfic has mature content so please avoid if you’re not 18+.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 18 and Seokjin is about 45 years old), dirty talk, unprotected sex (please use protection people!), creampie, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving)

“Little girl you have to be fucking quiet if you want to continue doing this.”

You are in the current situation of fucking your project partner’s dad while your partner left to go get food for the both of you. You will never deny the fact that older men have always been much more attractive to you then boys your age. This rendezvous started when your teacher partnered you together with a boy that you weren’t even aware that he was in your class. His name was Kim Taehyung and you had to do your senior project with him to ensure that you would be walking across the stage with your diploma in the spring.

Initially when you were planning out your project with Taehyung he suggested to do the project at his house since it was located right next to a plaza that had a craft store with extensive selections. You rolled your eyes at the suggestion because it definitely had underlying suggestions that you were not interested in. His suggestion was something that you will be forever grateful for. On the first day of working on his project you drove to his house and knocked on the door. You were slightly annoyed since you had a heavy backpack that you were itching to take off since its heavy weight was due to all the craft supplies you thought would be useful.

You knocked again with an even heavier fist to hopefully get a response and this time the door swung open. You were instantly faced with a gorgeous man that definitely was not Taehyung. His broad shoulders had your mouth watering and you were ready to jump this man’s bones. “Oh, you must be Y/N! Taehyung told me you were coming. Sorry for his awful manners, he's in his room right now and he seems to be deaf once he’s in there.” He moved his body to the side to allow you to come inside and you ignored anything he said about Taehyung. You just wanted to stare at his plush lips all day. “I’m his father,” He stuck out his hand for you to shake it and you were in awe with how big his hand was. You knew they were perfect to manhandle your smaller frame. “You can call me Seokjin or Mr. Kim. It doesn’t matter to me I won’t give you a hard time.” He gave you a warm smile and led you to the stairs and instructed you which door was Taehyung’s. You thanked him and wished that you could spend more time with him. You knocked on the door and saw Taehyung open up with disheveled fluffy hair and wearing a white shirt and sweatpants. Definitely a lot more casual than the vintage style he sports at school.

After brainstorming and getting a rough outline of the project Taehyung was generous enough to suggest getting lunch. He originally wanted you to accompany him while he drove to the fast food restaurant of your choice, but you came up with the excuse that you’ll continue to work on the project so there will be less to do after the lunch break. He looked like he was going to try again to convince you, but he just shrugged and went downstairs to get his keys. You spied through his bedroom window to make sure he was well down the street before you proceeded to make your advances towards Mr. Kim. Just the sound of his name gives you butterflies.

You got up from the bed and slowly started to explore the upstairs part of the house and you heard busy fingers typing behind a door and you figured it was Mr. Kim doing some work from home. You tried to suppress a grin from your impulsive thought of him fucking you against his desk and making a mess all over his office. You timidly knocked on the door and held your breath while waiting for an answer. He cracked open the door and made it wider once he saw you. “Y/N is everything okay? Where’s Taehyung?” You slipped past him into his office and he closed his door behind him. “Taehyung went to go get lunch for the both of us and I was bored so I wanted to spend some time while I was waiting!” You gave him a wide smile and he nodded at your response. “Well, I don’t think I can entertain you much since I’m doing work, but you can keep me company till Taehyung gets back.” He pulled out a chair for you to sit and you watched him type away on his desktop computer. After a couple of minutes you knew you had to speed up your plan especially if you wanted to get what you wanted before Taehyung came back.

“Mr. Kim, do you have a wife?” He suddenly spluttered at the sudden question and looked at you from above his monitor. “U-uh no she’s out of the picture.” He tried to keep the answer as vague as possible, but that was all you needed to hear. You got up and made your way around the table and started to rub his back in an attempt to do a faux massage. You started to press your breasts against his back to really get him riled up and this did the trick. “Y/N what are you trying to do right now? I am a father not a teenage boy that does hookups. If that’s what you’re looking for then please go look somewhere else.” His words did not match his actions though and this made you smirk while you continued to rub his broad shoulders. “Mr. Kim, if you really don’t want this you can kick me out right now, but I don’t think that’s what you want.” You purred into his ear and in result he got up and wrapped his hand around your neck. His mood took a 180 and you were getting wetter and wetter by the second.

“Y/N, you better be ready to take whatever the hell I give you since you want to whore yourself out to me. I will make you feel like a fucking whore since you want to be one so bad.” He flipped you and had your body pressed up against the wall. He pulled down your leggings and you felt him already pressing up against your ass. He tapped between your thighs to indicate for you to spread them and you did it with no fight. He started to rub your cunt agonizingly slow to tease you and he let out a low chuckle. “I barely even touched you and your pussy is already so wet and sloppy for me. Christ, you really are a slut. I wonder if Taehyung knows how much of a slut you are.” You shook your head and stuck out your ass to press further against him.

He ripped your panties off and with no warning he slipped two fingers into you with no resistance considering how turned on you are right now. “You definitely are a whore for me, you can take two of my fingers with barely any prep. I wonder if you can take more?” You nodded and this was not the answer he wanted. He removed his fingers from inside you and gave a loud slap to your ass. “Use your fucking words. If you wanna fuck a grown man you’re gonna answer me and give me the respect a grown man deserves.” “Y-yes sir. I want more of your fingers please.” He fulfilled your request and put an additional finger in your pussy and this had you screaming out in please. If he kept this up you would be cumming in no time. You were already starting to clench and Seokjin was having none of it. “You’re gonna cum on my fucking cock and that’s final.” He took out your fingers and he left you as a whimpering mess against the wall.

“Get on your knees and do what useful whores do by sucking my cock.” You obeyed and waited with baited breath. Once he pulled down his pants your mouth instantly salivated. He was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined and it had your whole body tingling with excitement. You took it in your mouth and instantly you knew that you couldn’t get more than half of him down your throat. Seokjin was definitely enjoying the sight of you struggling to deepthroat his dick. “Aw, poor slut can’t even take daddy’s cock. Looks like someone should go back to fucking stupid little teenage boys.” This lit a fire under your ass and you were determined to take more of his cock now. You needed to prove yourself to him. You started to gag around him trying to take more of him and this was enough to bring him close to cumming.

He yanked your hair to remove your mouth and he slapped your cheek indicating for you to stand up. He quickly admired your tear stained cheeks and the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. Your fantasies were coming true when Seokjin came behind you and took one of your arms to bend you across his desk. You spread your legs and felt the excitement inside you when you could feel him lining up against your pussy. In one swift motion he came close to bottoming out in your pussy and you let out a screaming moan that was out of pleasure and pain. “Little girl you have to be fucking quiet if you want to continue doing this.” You tried your best to try and quiet your moans, but he just felt so fucking good. Your pussy started to clench again and you knew the tightening in the pit of your stomach was about to pop. “Yeah, be the little fucking slut you are and cream all over daddy’s big fucking cock. You’re taking me so well baby.” His words of encouragement made you completely let go and you were arching your back from how strong your orgasm was. You knew Seokjin was also close because his thrusts were getting faster and sloppier. “Fuck your cunt feels so good wrapped around me. I bet you want me to cum in you. You wanna be filled with my fucking kids huh?” “Yes fuck please! I want your cum so bad!” This was all he needed to hear and he was dumping his cum deep inside of you and it felt so good.

Once you put your clothes back on you heard the front door open. The timing couldn’t be anymore perfect. “Hey Y/N I’m back! Sorry it took so long. The traffic was crazy. I hope you’re hungry!” “I’m starving! Thanks again for the lunch, Tae.” You scampered out of the office and gave one last wink to Mr. Kim before you went to eat.

Notes: I got really inspired to write a DILF fic after reading some of @taesinferno content (which is super good go check them out!). If you enjoyed what you read then please like and reblog. If you would like to support my work further you can give me a Kofi.

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts jin #smut

107 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 3 years

Text

DESERVE YOU — J. Baker

WARNINGS: language, slut-shaming?, and violence? I think that’s about it!

you were doing your best at moving on from Jordan Baker. Shit, it was only the beginning of senior year and you owed it to yourself to do better. Sure you loved Jordan, you’ve been friends since freshman year and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think there might be some romantic feelings there. But you never acted on them because you never wanted to ruin a friendship. He went off and dated and flung himself around while you were the opposite and took your time on dating.

Layla and Olivia supported that but then there was Jordan who snorted at the idea, along with JJ.

“You’re too hot to remain single. Just let me take you out...so I can be your wingman and find you the right one.” JJ was all grins, arm tossed over your shoulder that one night at the usual hangout.

You rolled your eyes. This attention was not needed. Especially when it involved your non-existent love life.

Jordan popped a extra cheddar jalapeño tot, his go to dish here, into his mouth laughing, “I think you’d be the last person y/n would take as their wingman.”

“And they’d be making the biggest mistake, ask anybody. I’m the best wingman.”

You groaned.

“Ah, come on y/n. Dating is fun, you’ve got to give it a try. You’ve been single since what? Since I’ve known you?” Jordan deeply frowned as he realized this.

Scoffing you buried your forehead deeper into the palm of your hand. How embarrassing, one of your best friends that you liked was keeping track of how single you were. Amazing.

“You mean screwing is fun because neither you or JJ know how to date.”

“Damn, J. I think y/n just called us out.”

JJ nodded his head as he suddenly looked up from his phone, “I heard and I’m kinda offended. I know how to treat the ladies.”

“...and leave them.” You muttered.

“Wow, i never knew you thought so low of us.” Jordan shrugged it off.

You spotted Layla and Olivia entering the café, you sent them a wave, thankful that you can get away from these two idiots and the discussion of you needing to date.

“Gotta go boys, make sure with whatever shenanigans you get into the rest of the night you wrap it before you tap it.” You gave them both pats on their shoulders before you hopped down from the stool to great your girls.

Jordan mumbled the, “wrap it before you tap it.” Line to himself with raised brows while JJ gave a snort of a laugh.

“They said shenanigans. I feel like I’m talking to my mom.”

Jordan was going to make it his mission to get you a date since he just wanted to see you happy. That was sophomore year but the irony of that is that never worked out. The one guy, Benji Hiraga, a junior, was nice and kinda awkward, at least around you, originally from San Francisco, and a skater boy who basically caught your attention. You met him after school during yearbook club and hit it off with him.

That was short lived since after you shared your first kiss he revealed that he was most likely moving to New York due to his father’s job. His mother was staying here in California and before he met you, he was always going to New York but now that he liked you...that made things difficult. You didn’t ask him him to stay. How could you? So he went and tried to keep up with you through the magical iPhone but doing your own detective work you found that he was now involved with this girl named, “Indigo” or at least he hooked up with her according to her stories and the next thing you know, you’re blocked from his socials and he’s trying to explain.

It’s not like you were official but you were talking and did share a kiss or two. It was the least he could have done was told you that he was interested in someone else. So here’s another round of heartbreak or papercut really?and the end of your sophomore year.

Junior year? Jordan was still doing what he did best and you took the summer to heal so you were back to your usual self. And Jordan slipped up and got someone pregnant, at this point you didn’t mind Ripley being in the picture again. Yet you stood by him with a good cussing him out for being careless and dodging this girl who’s name you learned to be Simone. He had to face the music just like you always did.

You watched Jordan and Simone’s story play out from the sidelines as always. You were happy that Jordan was in a healthy relationship and that he wanted you to build a friendship with Simone as well. Yet you couldn’t scratch the idea that she lied about him being the father and it was a little awkward. Maybe you also had a little bitterness but again that wasn’t her fault since you weren’t open about your feelings and probably never would be.

Fast forward to senior year and homecoming night. You didn’t think homecoming was important, you went sophomore year with the skater boy to his who would not be named and had a fantastic time. Now you were going again but had to go with your other girlfriends, Joey and Fatin. (Since Layla and Olivia had beef over a guy yet again, no disrespect to you spence! You liked spencer but you were just over the drama between your girls) Well you didn’t have to, you were fine skipping out on homecoming and just going to prom at the end of senior year but Joey and Fatin weren’t having it.

“If I have to get dressed up for this shit, along with dealing with Fatin’s slightly abusive aspiring designer ways, then you have to deal with it too.” Joey argued, her big blue green eyes piercing into yours, while pieces of fabrics were flying your way.

Senior year was already stressful and just beginning! so sure, you decided to have some fun. And that you did. You let loose with your friends noticing Jordan, Simone, Spencer, Chris, JJ, A*her, and V*nessa, on the dance floor a couple of times which is one of the spots you never left.

You managed to slip in a wave every so often to Spencer, Chris, and JJ when you caught their eye. You knew beforehand that you wouldn’t see Layla or Olivia at homecoming tonight and was secretly glad that there would be no tension.

So you thought.

Joey introduced you to her cousin who was really just a old friend of her family since they were basically raised as family members. And yes he was handsome, sweet smile, lovely faint dimples, slight scruff on his face along with freckles scattered over his face, and fluffy brown hair with brown eyes. His name was Chase.

He was the perfect gentleman. Charming, gentle, and funny. The both of you eased into smooth conversation while dancing and he knew how to keep his hands above your waist. That was a win-win and you were unsure if it was the lights in here but you were burning every time he set his brown eyes on you while being in close proximity. You hit it off while Joey giving a knowing smirk in the distance while Fatin was grinding in the air at you two making you keep Chase’ back to her every time.

Jordan did notice your attention was on some other guy and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He was a little grumpy if you asked Simone but his excuse was, “Y/N hasn’t said anything to me all night.”

“Jordan, they’re busy trying to snatch themselves a man, so let them. It’s not the end of the world is it?” Simone scolded.

Jordan folded his arm as he watched you throw your head back and cover your smile as you laughed.

“It is if the guy looks like a Abercrombie reject.” Jordan disses, making Simone laugh as she wrapped her arms around his waist, watching y/n now too for a bit.

“I don’t know, I think he’s kinda cute. Not necessarily y/n’s type but I can see them being a attractive couple.” Simone tilted her head off resting on Jordan’s back.

Jordan scrunched up his nose, “you think that is cute?” He pointed making Simone snatch his hand down as Spencer and JJ made their way over with red cups in their hands. “Then what the hell am I? A mirage?”

“Sexy. A sexy mirage.” Simone stated as if it was obvious.

Spencer gagged while Jordan went to smooth down his brows then press a kiss to silence Simone’s giggling.

JJ asked bouncing to the beat while holding onto his crown, “What are we staring at?”

“Never mind that, did any of you speak to y/n?” Jordan crossed his arms.

Spencer swallowed his drink, “I mean any of us can, they’re right over there.”

Jordan gave Spencer the side eye, “oh gee Spence, I never thought of that.”

“Then what’re you crying about man?” Spencer asked even though he already had an idea what this was about.

“Jordan’s a little pressed that y/n will possibly leave tonight with that cute white boy they’re dancing with and hasn’t said anything to him tonight. Which I’m sure wasn’t intentional, y/n’s not like that. They’re your bestie right?” Simone fixed the shawl over her low-cut red dress.

Jordan blew out a low sigh, “you know what? You’re right. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, they deserve their fun too. You guys ready to head out to the café?”

“Hell yeah!” JJ screamed, “let the king go first to lead you all to the feast!”

Spencer laughed while Simone shook her head at JJ’s usual antics.

“Where’s Chris?” Jordan asked as he gave one last glance over the dance floor, which really means over in y/n’s direction?

“He had to go back to Crenshaw to get his crown that he doesn’t even want, he’s gonna meet us over at the spot.” Spencer informed.

Later that night you, Joey, and Fatin decided to stop by the café before heading to Fatin’s to have your annual sleepover. The three of you were just picking up some treats and would be on your way when you saw Simone and V*nessa walk off into the building with Jordan and Spencer appeared to be in a stand off against three other familiar faces.

The other three were just starting to walk off when you heard your name.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Chase asked.

Joey glanced at the boy, “we were getting some snacks before we head to Fatin’s for night. Are you three friends?” She questioned.

“Ew, you go to west lake?” Fatin commented, nothing the other two quickly.

Cameron turned his eyes into slits, “what? Is this profiling I’m hearing right now? Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

“‘Cause you two are grade a shit stirrers and chase seems like a cinnamon roll.” Fatin stated the obvious, she knew this because she transferred from west lake last year, “now? I’m not so sure.”

Jordan and Spencer both picked up on that. Jordan let his eyes scope over Chase a little harder now at this newfound news.

Chase cleared his throat as he stepped towards you, “I really did have a good night with you and love to do it again sometime. I’ll text you later, okay? Have a good night.” He nodded his head at the two boys behind him to follow him to his car, the two laughing and shoving Chase as they went.

You watched them disappear from the scene as Joey nudged you as Fatin lead the way. She was all waves and spins as she made the outside her runway passing by the boys before entering the place. Sighing you decided not to think too much about this encounter since you could tell it was heated and slowly turned to follow Joey.

“Hey, Jordan. You have fun tonight?” You causally asked as Spencer held the door open for Joey up ahead, before disappearing inside with her.

The two of you fell into step together.

“Ah, so you do speak?” He jokingly said.

“Huh?”

“Chase bank had such a hold on you, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Jordan said in a tone that you didn’t like.

You paused, “Jordan...what was that?”

“What was what?” Jordan poked his his head out, playing dumb.

You blinked, “Sorry I was having fun with other people that didn’t include you. I thought we were pass doing this, we’re not fourteen anymore.”

“You’re right, we’re not. I just don’t want you whoring it up with a guy that hangs with Simone’s asshole of a deadbeat baby’s father. He might turn around and do the same thing to you.” Jordan mumbled making you widen your eyes at what was just said to you.

You closed your eyes and took a large inhale, “there’s multiple things wrong in what you just said to me and just to think, I was having a good time without you ruining it.”

“Oh, are you saying I always find a way to ruin whatever you have going on?”

Why was he picking a fight with you? This had be more about him then it was about you.

“If it doesn’t involve you, it always a problem, Jordan!” You yelled then lowered your voice, “We always say we want the other to be happy because we deserve it. We’re friends right? so why is it always a issue when the happiness isn’t coming from each other?”

You had him there.

“Good night, Jordan.” You hissed, not having patience for him to figure it out, latching into the door and leaving him in the night.

Friday night came and you watched it all play out along with everyone else. You didn’t want to go to the game because you still had an attitude with what Jordan said to you and had yet to apologize about it. Fatin was ready to, “scratch his eyes, gorgeous brows, and face off” for you while Joey said it would basically be a “fuck you” to him.

Plus Chase was playing tonight as well, it was Beverly vs. Westlake and it started off shaky for Beverly. You should have saw this coming with the body language radiating off of Dane, Simone’s baby daddy. Jordan had the ball and in the next Dane tackled him knocking him flat on his back. Dane hyped himself up circling around Jordan and almost ran back up to him as if he was going to kick his helmet but you noticed a certain player, which belonged to Chase latch onto him and shove him away from Jordan who lay completely still.

You were already on your feet when Jordan’s body collided with the field. And running down them when you saw Dane start to make his way back over to Jordan. Why were none of his teammates helping him? They were just standing there! You latched onto the fence watching as a hush fell over the field and seconds before coach montes was making her way over to crouch down in front of Jordan. The refs jogged over to assist before they gave a signal which means they needed a medic.

Before a hand could touch your back you were down on the field looking for blood. You weren’t there when Jordan suffered his first serious concussion on the field and now you were. You had a feeling this was bad.

“Y/N!” You could hear multiple voices screaming your name while from the corner of your eye you could see Jordan being loaded onto the stretcher.

Soon you found the number you were looking for. It was clear he had no remorse as he had his back to what was going on with Jordan, pulling his helmet off as he went to bring a cup of Gatorade to his lips.

“Hey, Dane!” You called and just as he turned with a smirk on his face you punched it right off, ignoring the crunch that sounded in your hand right after.

“Y/N!” Chase called from behind you, his hands going to latch onto your waist.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed.

It seemed as if everyone was calling your name but no one was doing anything about Dane. Sure the first move was not a foul play but it was moment afterwards that had you heated. If given the chance, Dane would have kicked Jordan’s head to worsen the blow. That was dirty. If it wasn’t for chase, Dane would have done it.

Chase raised his hands to show you that he meant no harm. Your eyes shot back over to Dane who was doubled over holding his eye. You wanted to kick him up his ass to give him another nice blow but it was nice to know that his eye had some damage to it.

His coach was now screaming at you but you fanned him off in satisfaction as you walked away from the scene, feeling quite better about yourself.

“Who are you?” Joey squealed putting her phone down as she stood on the field, “that bitch went down! Finally.”

Your adrenaline was flowing not noticing or hearing anything that was said, “where’s Jordan?”

“...hospital...honey...I...think...hands...broken.” Fatin addressed now holding onto your hand, which you now glanced down at while you panted.

Well your thumb sure didn’t look right and the discoloration of the rest of your hand gave you the indication that Fatin might be right. And then? You passed out.

“You’re gonna need surgery but first we’ll try three weeks of PT to get things mobilized along with this brace.”

“So you want me to heal up after setting my hand back in place just to make me worse with surgery time.” You summed up.

The doctor glanced at your aunt, who happened to be nurse joy. She gave the doctor a glance and a shrug of her shoulders to say that you were right.

“Next time, if you’re gonna punch someone make sure your thumb isn’t inside of your fist. Then maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation. See you in six weeks, y/n.”

“See you in six weeks, y/n.” You mocked the man who left the room with your aunt laughing with a shake of her head.

You sat up letting out a long groan as if you were a elderly person in your 90s.

“Uh ah, where do you think you’re going?”

“Going to find Jordan? I thought that was obvious.”

Aunt joy gave you a look, “don’t get smart with me just because you have a bug up your butt about something you did.”

“Something Dane did.”

“Which caused you to react and also mess yourself up in the end. And for what? Some boy?” Aunt Joy gave her input.

You stared at the brace, “what can I say? I’m as loyal as they come.”

“Or maybe you’re foolishly in love with a guy that doesn’t deserve it.” Aunt Joy stated making you snap your eyes up in her direction who tilted her head as if to beckon you to deny her claims.

Aunt Joy was around more than your own parents were due to them traveling so much for their jobs. So she knew even if you think she didn’t.

Not long after, you made your way to the room Jordan was in spotting Simone, Mrs. Baker, Coach Baker, Olivia and Spencer outside in the hall with the doctor. You caught Simone’s eye as you slipped into the room seeing Jordan who rested with his head back against his pillow.

“Y/N.” He exhaled.

You could tell there was a wave of emotions in Jordan’s eyes, not just him seeing you here for him but with the news that was just delivered by the doctor in private.

Sitting down on the side of his bed you kept your eyes trained on Jordan, not saying anything just yet.

He took one glance at the brace on your hand and went to pinch at his eyes as if to hold in tears? Yup tears! back which completely caught you off guard as he tried to hold back some sobs. Your family wasn’t the greatest at handling emotions but you tried your best as you always did.

“You have no idea how much I need you in my life and I’m sorry. Really sorry for how bad of a friend I’ve been to you, and I don’t deserve you.” Jordan kept pinching his eyes to hold the tears back but they slipped down the side of his cheeks.

You gripped his hands trying to pull them from his face, “Jordan, it doesn’t matter right now. We’ll figure it out when the both of us get out of here...well I get to leave tonight but still.”

Jordan scoffed before sniffing, “really, I don’t. You broke your hand for me. Everything you always do is for me, when you could have cut me off from being in your life along time ago and you’re still here. that’s a connection I don’t ever want to lose.”

It always felt like when you met freshman year in physical science, the pair of you felt like you knew each other in a past lifetime. At least that’s what your mother always said watching you two interact.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I have a lot to worry about.” Jordan disagreed, “doc just told me I can’t ever play again or at least for this year because if I suffer another injury a number of worse things can happen. Even fatal. I’m eighteen and they’re telling me that if I continue doing something l love and breathe for, puts my life at risk and I’m just supposed to give it up?”

Well yeah! But this was Jordan Baker and you knew that football means more than a lot to Jordan. He just said it.

“...This messes with everything I’ve fought so hard for. My future is over at this point and I don’t know what to do or if I lose you on top of this I’m pretty much nothing. A waste of got damn space!” Now Jordan was angry smacking against the bed and ready to tear his IV out.

You never heard Jordan talk like this. He was hardly sensitive about things unless he had a couple of drinks, tried to cheer you up, or after watching some romance movie or reality show. It was the cancer rising maybe? At least that’s what Joey would say if she was watching this go down.

All it took was for you to rest your head against his chest and hold him to ease him. That always seemed to work and you haven’t done this since you were younger. You soothed him, always did. A shaky hand went to rest against your back as Jordan pressed his nose against your hair breathing you in. The heart monitor let you know that he was okay, at least in this moment.

Maybe Jordan Baker didn’t deserve you but you always saw the good in him despite what he believed.

And he held you right to his chest.

A/n: this was lengthy but I’m a whore for Jordan Baker lmaooo! Thoughts? I also had a dream about gregg sulkin? So he inspired Chase if you didn’t catch that 😂 I need to catch up on runaways and a lot of other things but there’s no such thing as old free quarantine time for me anymore!

Also featured: Odessa A’dlon + Sophia Ali as Joey& Fatin based on their characters from “Grand Army” and “The Wilds”

I had a alternative version to this before Monday’s episode came back and it’s funny how I wasn’t well-off on what I predicted to happen with Jordan. Guess I can delete it now after I ended up writing this instead? Anyways, Hope you’re all well and that you enjoyed last nights episode! Until I write again 💘✌🏽

#all american #all american cw #Jordan Baker #Jordan Baker x reader #michael evans behling #jordan x simone #Spotify

152 notes · View notes

the-a-word-2214 · 3 years

Text

Wise Beyond Her Years

summary: Pierre realizes he’s in love with his childhood best friend

pairing: Pierre Bezukhov x reader

word count: 1,489

warnings: fluff, soft Pierre moments

My dearest (Y/N),

Helene has become unbearable. She admitted to not wanting children although I persuaded her with having any amount of money she could ever want. I would like children one day, maybe Helene isn’t meant to be in my life after all. Thank you for listening.

Pierre Bezukhov

—————————————

As you carefully read Pierre’s letter, you cannot help but feel his unhappiness. He didn’t even originally want to marry Helene, her father thrust marriage upon them.

You’d known the man since you were children, you always felt a growing sense of love when you saw him but it was much more than a friendly love, it was a romantic one.

Once Pierre had come into the sum of his father’s inheritance, women were falling over themselves to get to him. It’s as if the socially awkward man they once saw had been erased from their minds.

He was still your Pierre though, the man that you loved and had since childhood. Your heart leaped anytime you saw him, but that was long ago. After getting thrown out of St. Petersburg, you hadn’t seen him in many months.

Once you received his letter, you immediately wrote back.

—————————————

Pierre,

I’m sorry to hear about your misfortune with Helene. Just know that there is a silver lining to your problems, my dear. You must come visit me, I get lonely most days without you here. The ice has frozen solid over the lake, it is now perfect for ice skating.

(Y/N) (L/N)

—————————————

The wind whipped through your hair as you skated across the frozen lake. Your warm coat kept out the cold. You skidded to a halt as you saw a figure in a fluffy ushanka marching towards you. It was Pierre, your Pierre.

He rushed towards you, nearly falling on his face. You met him in the middle, squeezing him tightly in a hug.

“Pyotr! So good to see you.” You exclaim, your mouth buried in the fur of his coat.

“Dearest (Y/N), it has been too long.” He mumbles into your hair as you pull away to look at him, your hands on his forearms.

“Come, let me show you how to skate.” You carefully pull him onto the ice with you as you skate backward, your eyes remaining on him. His gaze is wary as he slowly begins moving on the frozen water.

“This is much more fun than I ever anticipated.” He laughs softly as he looks down at his feet.

*******

Once you both return to the warmth of indoors, you take off your coat. You run your hands down the length of the smooth fabric of your dress. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit down next to the fire, the only sound being the popping of the fire.

“How have you been, (Y/N)?” Pierre startles you with his voice as he sits down in a chair next to you.

“Oh my! You gave me a fright.” You laugh softly as you put a hand to your chest.

“I’ve been lonely, Sonya and Natasha keep fine company but I miss our talks. I miss the way you used to make me laugh.” Your eyes flit to him, taking in his appearance. His hair a little longer than what you remember although the same glasses adorn his face.

“I see. I’ve missed you too, dearly. Helene only thinks of me as an oaf and a brute. She’s decided that she won’t mother any children either. The words she used were ‘you know I’m not the motherly type.’” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

“You deserve someone who will treat you better, Pierre. A kind woman who will happily bear your children.” You gently take his hand, he looks down at it. His eyes turn to you as he moves your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly.

Your breath catches in your throat as you turn to look away, your cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

“Pierre, you always flatter me.” You whisper as a smile graces your lips.

“You know that I’ve always found you to be wise beyond your years. You’re extraordinary! I’m four years your senior and yet you could outsmart me in almost any situation.” He’s doting on you now, making wild gestures with his hands. It always humored you when he became over dramatic.

“Oh, stop it Pierre. You’re too kind.” You laugh softly as he stands up, pulling you with him by your hands.

“It beguiles me that you can’t see your worth. You deserve a good man, (Y/N).”

*******

Pierre begins writing to you once more after he sees you. He would tell you about how many times Helene would be out and about and how each time he was more and more tempted into divorcing her.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was the truth of him finding out that Fedya Dolokhov, his own friend, was having an affair with Helene. Her restless behavior when he was around made sense now.

Pierre had challenged Dolokhov to a duel, in which he won. It was a miracle that he remained unscathed through it all. He wrote to you about his good fortune and each day after that. He began writing so often that you couldn’t keep up.

—————————————

My dearest (Y/N),

There is a ball being held soon. I would hope that you would be in attendance. This will be one of the first times that I make an appearance in public after separating from Helene. Please consider my proposal.

Pierre Bezukhov

—————————————

The thought of seeing Pierre again enticed you enough to bare the festivities of aristocratic life. With a heavy sigh, you prepared for the ball that’s taking place in the evening.

*******

The gold that lined the walls of the palace was illuminated as the darkness from outside seeped in. Everyone looked regal in their white clothes, especially the girls who lined up to meet their suitors.

You stood by your lonesome with your parents at your side as you surveyed the crowd. Andrei was somewhere in the crowd along with Pierre. You followed their gaze to see Natasha playfully looking away from their watchful eyes.

You felt wrong for coming, you felt like a fool. Of course Pierre could never love you when he was always so close with Natasha. Tears filled your eyes as you rushed off to another part of the palace, leaving your parents and the emotions of the ballroom behind.

You cried softly as you sunk to the floor, the only other bodies in the room being that of the footmen. The sound of boots against the tile filled your ears as you remained in your previous position.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? What is the matter?” Pierre squatted down to your level as he beckoned you to look at him.

“I saw the way you looked at her, you love her don’t you?” You sniffled as you whipped your head up to look at him.

He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, at a loss for words.

“...Never mind.” He stands up again as he begins to pace the small space.

“Never mind what? What is it, Pierre?” You demand as you approach him.

“I don’t love her, I love you.” He blurts out, his eyes a mix of fear and sadness.

You choose your words before vocalizing them.

“I love you too, Pierre. Ever since we were little.” You whisper the last part, staring at your shoes. He pulls you closer to him, his hands on either side of your face. He leans down and captures your lips in his own. The kiss is tender and soft as your lips move together as one.

Once you finally part, you feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Your feelings no longer harbored, now out in the open.

“I’m delighted to hear that you feel the same way. Now, might you allow me the honor of dancing with you? If you’ll have me, that is.” He holds out his hand to you. You take it without a second thought, his deft, gloved fingers warm in your own.

He leads you out to the ballroom, this time your view of it is different. The faces seem a little more welcoming and you now notice just how handsome Pierre looks in his pale grey jacket. His eyes never leave yours as he holds you close. A slow melody fills the air as you hold him close.

Your hand in his, the other on his shoulder. You feel peace for the first time in years as you gaze at the man who loved you in return. That’s all you ever wanted in the end, is to be loved and love in return.

This was just the beginning of your new life with Pierre. Just the start of something wonderful.

#paul dano x reader #paul dano #pierre bezukhov #pierre bezukhov x reader #war and peace 2016 #war and peace

213 notes · View notes

classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Zeke Tyler

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I have a lot of thoughts about this greasy little man and the way he acts with girls)

- Zeke Tyler had been driving you nuts for as long as you could remember. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. He’d been driving you nuts for as long as you’d known him; that was more accurate.

- Freshman year, that was when it had all started. You were a year younger than him and had been the target of his harassment since the day you met him. You couldn't go a day without him blatantly making fun of you, trying to embarrass you or making suggestive comments towards you just; what you could only assume was, to make a fool out of you.

- You tried your best to either avoid or ignore him, mainly staying quiet since you were on the shy side; something that probably contributed to his eagerness to mess with you. Anytime you tried to respond, he found it amusing. Any curses or insults you’d give him back, or your telling of him to leave you alone, we’re all delivered in vain.

“Come on y/n/n, when are you gonna let me take you out?” He’d tease with a smirk and you’d just know that he was only messing with you.

- The thing is, you couldn’t have been more wrong. All his propositions and invitations were genuine, Zeke just didn’t know how to deal with his feelings for you.

- It was easier for him to be a jerk and sarcastic with you, that way he could have an excuse to be around you whenever he wanted and pretend like he wasn’t hurt when you’d inevitably reject.

- Because of course you’d reject him. He was a burnout before he even had the chance, a drug dealing senior who’d been held back a year. Hell, his parents didn’t even like him. Why would you?

- Funny thing is, as much as he tried to be a dick to you, even you could notice the occasional cracks in his façade, though you’d tend to try to write them off.

- An increasingly obvious crack was the fact that no one else was allowed to treat you the way he did. The minute someone else tried, he’d jump to your defense and turn on them, giving them shit or just telling them to leave you alone. He was possessive over his victims, yay!

- Okay, to be fair and honest and all that: You didn’t hate Zeke. You didn’t necessarily like him or the way he treated you, but you didn’t hate him. There was even a part of you that felt a strange attraction towards him; as much as you didn’t like admitting it.

- Which is something you ended up making known to him one day after school when you happened to be the only people left in the building. You were at your locker, he’d approached you and after he teased and once again “asked you out”, you finally spoke up.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” He’d grinned in response, waiting eagerly for your reply.

“Act like a jerk and then try to take me out. Why would I go out with you after you mess with me all day?”

“So you’re saying that you’d go out with me if I was nicer to you?” He’d asked lowly, taking a step closer as the two of you locked eyes.

- You stuttered out an objection before saying a flustered goodbye and making your exit. He should probably thank you for that advice one of these days.

- Taking your advice, Zeke “acts nice”; in his own special way. Instead of being a total jackass, he acts teasingly kind to you: always greeting you and asking how you’re doing, exaggeratedly opening doors for you, all but pleading to help you with things. He’s obviously still sarcastic but it’s …less obnoxious. It’s after a week or so of that, that things finally come to a head.

- You were sitting outside in the hot sun, trying to do your chemistry homework while having no idea what the fuck it was talking about. Finally, you'd just about given up, putting your face in your hands while trying to get a grip before you completely lost it. That was when a quiet voice rang out from in front of you.

- Obviously, it was Zeke and before you knew it, he’d taken your pencil and done the problem for you, telling you how to do it in a few easy steps.

- A bit shocked but more than grateful, you thanked him quietly. He gave you a small smile and began to straighten up again, but just before he did, he met your eyes once more and asked if you wanted to hear something funny.

“I could have graduated last year, you know? …I mean if I wanted to, I could have, …but I didn’t. And I mean, I guess it was for a bunch of reasons but one of them ...one of them was you,” He’d started, looking away from you and to his hands which were resting against the table. “And I’m sure that sounds really stupid, but it’s a fact. …I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you ..a lot, and I want to know, in all seriousness, if you would go out with me.”

You froze for a moment but just as he was about to leave; figuring you were going to turn him down like always, you’d responded with a “I’m free on Friday.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at eight.”

- The two of you go and watch movies at his house for your first date. His parents are rarely ever home and that day was no exception so the two of you had the whole house to yourselves.

- It was just after the first movie ended that the two of you shared your first kiss. He was settling back on the couch after popping in the second film when the two of you locked eyes. He slowly leaned in, his hand moving to gently brush against your cheek before his lips met yours, soft at first before becoming more passionate.

- The movie was quickly forgotten about as he lowered you back against the couch. It was only until a loud scream erupted from the television that you were snapped out of your daze. You finally pulled away, gently holding his face in place and shyly mentioning that you should “probably leave it at that”, causing a grin to spread across his face.

- It’s safe to say that after that, the two of you were officially addicted to each other.

- Zeke really doesn’t whether people are watching or not, if he wants to hug or kiss you in public then they “can look away like normal fucking people”.

- Handholding. Well, you’re sorta just holding his sleeve most of the time but that’s just how Zeke is.

- Hugs from behind. He usually ends up nuzzling his face into your neck whenever he does.

- Hairline kisses. He’ll pull you closer and give you one whenever you're leaving for class.

- Soft kisses. As cocky as he acted, when you first started your relationship, he was always really nervous when going in for a kiss.

- Cheek strokes. They’re the barest, featherlight touches you’ll ever feel but they’ll still make your heart race.

- Getting swept up in makeout sessions.

- Hickeys. He doesn’t really care about placement but if you protest, he’ll leave them in more hidden areas.

- Zeke takes it personally when you don’t want him being affectionate with you. He’s the boyfriend that asks what your problem is when you keep letting go of his hand or shrugging off his hugs/arm.

- Please cuddle him. He likes to occasionally pretend like he doesn’t like it or is annoyed by it but he sure as hell doesn’t let you go when you go to pull away.

- Him falling asleep on you. He’ll lay his head on your lap with his arms wrapped around your waist while you run your fingers through his hair or down his back.

- You get a few nicknames and pet names from him, usually things like sweetheart, Princess, and babe.

- He genuinely likes when you call him pet names. He’ll usually roll his eyes at you but then he’ll look away and try to hide his shy little smile afterward.

- Honestly, Zeke is really cute with you most of the times; especially when you’re alone together. Nose boops or rubs, forehead presses, sweet teasing comments. On the inside, he’s just a softie who really wants to be loved.

- One day, he just took off his ring and slipped it onto your finger while he was playing with your hands. He told you to keep it when you asked about it ...so consider that a promise ring because that’s what he secretly considers it.

- Massages. He’ll use any excuse to touch you honey; especially if it can lead to something more.

- Wearing his jersey. That is ...a kink, and that’s all I’m saying about that.

- Sitting on the bleachers and watching him practice after he joins the football team.

- Sharing food.

- He likes hearing you talk; it doesn’t even matter what about. You could be talking about completely meaningless bullshit and he’d be perfectly content with listening to it. He’s sort of just happy that you want to tell him things, and he just likes your voice.

- Book talk. He may or may not have found a secret love for literature purely because you were interested in it and in his English class.

- Zeke’s a smart guy, he just doesn’t try, so you tend to make sure he studies and actually does his assignments.

- Jokingly teasing him about his glasses.

- Hanging out in his lab with him.

- The two of you frequent school storage rooms and closets. You occasionally help him steal things but more often than not, the two of you just makeout in there.

- Going to junkyards and smashing stuff.

- Lighting off fireworks with each other.

- Bonfires.

- Watching somewhat amused as he plays pranks on and makes fun of people. You keep a bit of a leash on him and make sure he isn’t too much of an asshole.

- Sitting on his car in the parking lot together.

- Keeping him company as he smokes.

- Free drugs and free *all his other inventory*. That being said, he’ll occasionally refuse to give you something because he cares too much about you and doesn’t want to fuck up your life. He’ll usually say something like “you don’t want this” or laugh and tell you he “isn’t giving you any” when he does.

- I’m convinced that Zeke would actually be really good at calming people down from panic attack purely because of his history with drug users. If he can handle a doped up tweaker, he can handle you.

- Getting little surprises left in your locker, he may or may not pick your lock to put them there. But hey, if you ever need to get into someplace, he’s got it covered.

- He sort of thinks it’s funny to scare you, usually with his driving.

- Going on death rides in the middle of the night.

- Sneaking out to see him. Given the way Zeke is and; likely, his general reputation, your parents probably aren’t fans of him, and even if they were, they probably wouldn’t let you go out with him at midnight.

- Honestly, he sort of likes when you insult him; as long as it doesn’t hit too close to home. If you call him an asshole, he’ll probably just pull you into a kiss as he smiles.

- He makes sure that no one walks all over you; especially if you have a habit of apologizing for no good reason, he won’t let his girl be anyone’s doormat.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to no one. Just get in the fucking car.”

- I’m sorry but your boyfriend is a really jealous guy; mainly because he’s insecure and oftentimes feels like he isn’t good enough for you. He’ll ask what you were doing whenever he sees you with other guys and won’t forget about it unless it’s obvious that you aren’t interested in them and they aren’t interested in you.

- Zeke would wholeheartedly fucking ice an entire room full of people for you and that is the honest to god truth. The minute someone acts even the slightest bit antagonistic towards you, he’s on there ass like he’s your guard dog.

- Surprisingly enough, you and Zeke rarely ever have serious fights. More often than not, you just bicker with each other before settling things fairly quickly.

- When things are more serious, he’ll argue and curse but he hardly ever yells, unless he’s raising his voice for emphasis. The only problem that really arises when you’re fighting is the fact that he thinks it’s amusing or hot when you’re angry so he just can’t take you seriously a lot of the time.

- Zeke’s a bit of a jackass so he’ll corner you/pull you into secluded places and not let you leave until he speaks his peace when the two of you have had a fight. That being said, he does offer you a genuine apology after doing so, and usually pulls you in for a kiss once you’ve forgiven him.

- He tells you he loves you quite a bit, albeit really casually, like when you’re saying goodbye and he just says “love you” without thinking. He does get a bit embarrassed when it’s in front of other people though.

- He likes to imagine that the two of you will stay together no matter what happens but when he thinks about the future and all that comes with it, he gets a bit nervous. He thinks he’d make a shitty father; because of his own parents, even though he’s sort of really cute and good with kids.

#zeke tyler imagines #zeke tyler imagine #zeke tyler headcanons #zeke tyler headcanon #the faculty imagine #the faculty headcanons #the faculty headcanon #the faculty imagines #90s movie headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagines

183 notes · View notes

sazc94 · 3 years

Text

The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart

This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.

Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts.

Part 2 Here

Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)

No smut but mentions of sex so 18+

Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship

Words 5659 its Suburban AU.

Winter 2018

You sat on the window seat, head resting on the cool glass a mug of hot chocolate between your hands. Winter in New York was something else, the way everything sparkled in the blanket of snow. This wasn’t your first December in the “Big Apple” but it was your first after moving here. Like the walking cliché you were you had moved here for a Fresh Start, after being offered a once in a lifetime opportunity of working for Tony Stark. You hadn’t planned on taking the job working as head of advertising for Stark Industries. The idea of moving from your small town in Michigan away from your family, everyone you knew and loved, and most importantly away from your best friend and your on-again-off-again boyfriend Bucky seemed ludicrous. You knew James or Bucky as he was to those who knew and loved him would never leave Michigan not if it meant leaving her.

James and you had been friends since, well as since long as you could remember. You had lived on the same street, gone to the same schools, played in the streets on your bikes when you were 8, played in the local park between the ages of 10 and 12. When you both hit 13 everyone assumed you would both either stop being friends or would fall romantically in love. Neither of those happened at least not right away. You two carried on hanging around each-others houses, playing video games and watching movies. Bucky had always been fiercely protective over you, his blue eyes narrowing at anyone who dared to pick on you when you were younger. His eyes would light up when you walked into the room, he loved Friday nights saved just for the pair of you to watch cheesy horror films, lounge around his sofa and stuff your faces with popcorn.

2008

Everything changed when you were 15, you and Bucky had always been inseparable, when no one asked you to combined Prom in your Freshman year, Bucky had surprised you. Showing up at your house dressed in a suit and tie with a white rose corsage, his long brown hair slicked back. You walked downstairs in your ballet slipper pink chiffon dress, your locks twisted into an intricate bun, this was the first time you’d worn heels and you nearly missed the bottom step when you saw Bucky in his Grey Suit stood in your living room. Bucky had tried out for the football team and obviously to no ones’ surprise had become the Star QB. As a result of that Bucky’s grey suit stretched across his muscular frame. Once you’d saved yourself from falling face-first down the last stair you walked over to Bucky grinning like a fool. “Bucky, what, what are you doing here? I thought you were going with Sam and Pietro and the rest of the football team” you said. “Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl flying solo at our first prom now, could I?” Bucky grinned down to you. “Besides the rest of the guys were meeting dates at the dance, so I told them I’d meet them there with you” you felt yourself blush at Bucky’s term of endearment. You and Bucky posed for photos for your Mum and Dad, your Dad trusted Bucky like his own son so there was no awkward father stare down there, you even had your curfew extended to 2 am.

The prom itself was magical, Bucky introduced you to his teammates and their dates. Sam was there with a cheerleader, Jane Foster she was friends with the cool alternative girl Wanda Maximoff who was Pietro’s twin sister they were Sophomores but made you feel welcome at their table. Complimenting your hair and shoes. Pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with them and the rest of the cheerleaders and co to the pumped-up pop songs that blasted out. The way the gym had been transformed was nothing short of breath-taking, led fairy lights strung up in waves from the ceiling, silver stars hanging against the velvet blue backdrops made you believe you were spending the night under the stars. When the music changed to a slow song -Tim McGraw by an up-and-coming artist Taylor Swift. The Group of girls surrounding you soon dissipated to slow dance with their respective others. You started to make your way back to the table you’d been sat at, happy to finally take a breather when you felt someone tug on your wrist. You turned around fully prepared to slap whatever creep had felt it suitable to touch someone they didn’t know but your face softened to find the familiar blue-eyed, muscular brunette smirking at you. “Miss Y/N” may I have this dance?”, he asked. “Why certainly, MR James Buchanan Barnes” you replied chuckling to yourself. Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the use of his full name before pulling you tight towards him. He wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his around your waist. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, you and Bucky had never been this intimate, sure still hugged and had kissed each other on the cheek when you were like 5, but this felt different. The way Bucky enveloped you, the scent of his aftershave mixed with his mum’s washing powder he smelt like cherry blossom mixed with sandalwood. You rested your head on Bucky’s chest, closing your eyes deciding to take this all in. A small smile tugged on your lips as you felt Bucky stroke your hips. You didn’t know it, but he looked at you with such love and adoration and his heart squeezed watching you rest your head on his chest the smile on your pale pink lips. Bucky moved his right hand from your waist and brought it to your cheek, slightly stroking it before lifting your face to look him in the eyes. His eyes shone with affection; his eyes so blue like the ocean you felt like you were drowning in them. Then his lips were on yours crashing against your slightly chapped lips, you cursed yourself for not wearing Chapstick like the cheerleaders and Wanda did. However, as the kiss deepened, and you felt Bucky’s left-hand grip on you together and you melted into the kiss everything else faded away. Bucky drew back and looked at you. Your smile dazzling him as your eyes shone back at him. Neither of you said a word as he pulled you back to his chest whilst the DJ played another slow song.

2009 - 2010

Bucky and you dated from the end of your Freshman year right up until the summer before your senior year. Bucky and you had been inseparable for most of your High School life, he even convinced you to try out for the cheerleading squad in your Junior year, usually you sat on the Side-lines with Wanda and Carol Danvers, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be a cheerleader it's just you were comfortable being “Bucky’s Girl” the one everyone knew without being in the spotlight, however after Wanda and Carol egged you on saying that you had the moves you went for it. You surprisingly made the squad. You couldn’t wait to tell Bucky, warmth spreading through your cheeks at the thought of how he’d be so proud. You decided to keep it quiet until you had your uniform. Jane and the girls had also promised to keep their mouths shut until you’d had the chance to surprise him. So, when homecoming rolled around, and you got your uniform for the first time you went along to the locker rooms where the football team would be heading off to change before the big pep rally. You stood against the wall one foot pressed against it, your knee bent whilst you waited. You heard Sam and Pietro before you saw them. They turned the corner roughhousing one another playfully. “Looking good Y/N” Sam shouted as he clocked you in your brand-new uniform. “looks like Bucky’s personal cheerleader now cheers for us all,” he said walking over to you and enveloping you in a hug. You giggled and at that moment Bucky Turned the corner with Peter Parker a freshman. He couldn’t see your uniform from the way that Sam’s body was covering yours, but he saw your face and started running down the hallway to you. As Sam and Pietro headed inside, he finally got to see the big reveal, he stopped in his tracks for a second. His eyes taking in every inch of your body, the skirt shorter than anything you owned, the top hugging your curves. He ran over to you picking you up and spinning you in the air as you squealed. “I knew you could do it Doll,” he said as he peppered kisses over your head, cheek, and lips. You blushed at his praise. Your Junior year with Bucky was a blur, between the football games, classes, parties’ dates with Bucky you felt like time was rushing past. You Even won Prom King and Queen at your Junior Prom. To no one’s surprise. However, that summer everything changed.

Summer 2010

You were on holiday with your family, visiting your grandparents in Miami. Every year you for as long as you could remember you and your family would spend the last 3 weeks of summer break at your grandparents. You had begged Bucky to come with you as he had in the past, however, due to football camp, he had been unable to swing it. “Hey, I’m sorry doll, it’s just coach said if I didn’t go he wouldn’t consider me for team captain,” he said hugging you from behind as you sat on your porch steps, his chin resting on your head. He had sworn to you that you would text every day and would skype at least once a week for the three weeks you were there. However, after the first week, Bucky’s texts had become less and less frequent. He’d only Skyped you once and you’d get texts from Various friends asking where you were as you weren’t at the latest party. On the final night of your holiday, as you walked along the beach by yourself taking in the last of the holiday feel your phone rang, you looked down it, confused when the caller Id said, Jane. “Hey, babe. Look I’m not sure how to say this” but uh we’re at a small party at Wanda and Pietro’s there’s about 15 of us, including this friend of mine Nat and uhm well, Bucky’s pretty wasted and well after I noticed I hadn’t seen him for a while I went looking for him”. Jane’s voice sounded stressed. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears tried to escape, not liking where this was going. “And uh, oh god I’m really sorry girl, but I, I kind of walked in on them fucking” Jane blurted it out, going for the band-aid approach as if saying it quicker would make it the cut sting any less. You didn’t say anything, you just stood there staring out the black ocean, the warm sand between your toes, feeling your heartbreak. You couldn’t believe it. Your sweet protective Bucky who had beaten up Miles Morales in 8th Grade for standing you up for an arcade date and breaking your heart. “I, I, I got to go my flights early tomorrow. My, my family will be wondering where I am” you stumbled over your words trying to get off the phone as quick as possible not wanting anyone to hear you cry.

Senior year was one of the most painful years, Bucky had met you at your house the day you got back, sitting on the wooden steps to your porch. He looked like he had barely slept, much like you. You were an only child, but your older cousin who was transferring to Michigan State University for his second year had come home with you. He took a look at Bucky and then back at you, you nodded telling him it was fine and that you had this. He walked inside but not before muttering punk under his breath. Bucky winced, he looked at you his blue eyes that once shone with nothing but love and adoration for you, now looked blank, empty, and almost unrecognisable. His brown hair which he had cut in his Sophomore year looked a mess. He started towards you, but you held your arm out.

“Don’t,” you said. He looked crestfallen and his heart shattered as you struggled to hold yourself together. “Doll, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, please, look at me, ill make it up to you, it will never happen again” he pleaded with you, his ocean blue eyes stared at your red brimmed eyes, cheeks puffy and streaked from all the crying over the last 16 hours. “Just don’t” You warned him. “Look, baby, it was a mistake, it meant nothing to me” he continued to plead despite your warning reaching out for your hand. His words hit you like a knife, you two hadn’t slept together yet and here he was claiming this meant nothing. You wrenched your hand free from him his touch burning you with his betrayal. “It meant nothing. It meant nothing!?! If it meant nothing you wouldn’t have slept with this Natasha James” you whispered. Bucky flinched at the use of his real name. Oh, how you wanted to shout, thrash scream at him and tell him you would forgive him, but you couldn’t. You had looked up the girls Instagram that night when you laid in bed crying and you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her the gorgeous read head with curves in all the right places. You started to walk towards your house. Unable to keep the tears back and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, Bucky called out for you, pleading with you. “I thought you loved me James, but it clearly meant something to you, or else you wouldn’t have thrown away two years of dating and 12 years of dating for sex with someone that wasn’t me, we were meant to be each other’s firsts, but you decided you couldn’t wait to get your dick wet so you went and fucked this chick you’ve known for what 5 minutes?” you cried out in anger, Bucky flinched again as if you’d slapped him. “Actually, I met her last year at one of our away game parties” he mumbled, his feet kicking the dirt around his feet. “I think you should leave” you whispered, choking back a sob before you ran into your house slamming the door behind you.

You and Bucky barely spoke that entire final year of school, you had been voted cheer Captain at the end of the summer semester, much to Jane’s approval, and you loved being a cheerleader, so you threw yourself into that as well as the school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. You cheered at the games putting on your show face and hyping up the crowds. You wowed in the role of Audrey in the show, avoided parties with the football team and buckled down focusing on your exams and audition for the performing arts programme at the University of Michigan. After Bucky had realised, he was never going to get you to forgive him he had ended up dating Natasha. The news hit you like a sucker punch to begin with but after meeting up with Wanda, Carol, and Jane during the spring break you made your peace with it. You even smiled at Bucky in the hallways when you saw each other. By the time Graduation rolled around you had healed.

November 2011

You ended up getting into the University of Michigan on a partial scholarship thanks to your cheerleading and you were enjoying the performing arts programme, the performing arts programme at the Uni had really blown up after the whole viral “A Very Potter Musical” back in 2009 and you were thrilled to be there. You had settled right in making friends with a young lad from your course Loki Laufeyson right away. He was attractive in an unconventional way, with long black hair, a tall skinny frame but he still had muscles. You two had been cast opposite each other in Romeo and Juliet during your first year and had become good friends. You even ran into Pietro frequently he had gotten a football scholarship and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you on the sidelines one November game. Pietro didn’t really “do” social media and hadn’t paid any attention to Wanda as you had told her, after Bucky’s betrayal you hadn’t spoken much with Sam or Pietro, after all, they were his friends and were now Uni students. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Bucky’s girl,” he said grinning at you after the game, ruffling your hair like you were 5 again. You couldn’t help but wince at the old pet name, everyone in the group had called you it, Sam, Wanda, Carol even Jane but you hadn’t been Bucky’s girl for a year, well longer if you take into consideration the fact he’d been chatting with Natasha on and off for the entire year before they slept together. “It’s just Y/N” or you can call me cutie you said winking at Pietro, he chuckled. “How about I just call you tomorrow?” he retorted, you felt yourself blush. Pietro had always been a cocky confident guy, his silver-blonde hair covering his ice blue eyes, he had always been a hit with the ladies, but he seemed that bit more attractive, slightly leaner, still confident but not arrogant. You shrugged before pulling out a sharpie from your bag, you wrote down your number on his arm. He cocked his head puzzled. “I changed it last year after Bucky wouldn’t stop blowing it up with apology texts,” you said simply. Before Pietro could respond you ran off to join the rest of your squad and headed for the changing room.

True to his charm and word, Pietro called you the next day offering to be your personal guide and show you all the hidden beauty spots of the campus. You accepted; even though you had been here for two months already. You walked around the campus and had a great time, you felt yourself really relaxing and laughing at his corny jokes and the way he wiggled his silver eyebrows at you whenever he made a bad joke. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed, and you meant really laughed, the kind of clutched over struggling to get air into your lung’s laughter that the Silver-haired, blue-eyed cutie gave you. By the time Pietro had finished his tour the sun was beginning to dip, he walked you back to your dorm ever the gentleman. However, this time when your hands brushed against each other he grabbed your hand and spun you around. His hand was cool and smooth, a stark difference to Bucky’s warm calloused hands. The pair of you walked back hand in hand in comfortable silence. When you got to your dorm you leant against your door, your eyes meeting Pietro’s ice blue eyes, the almost sparkled. Pietro positioned himself so that he had one hand above your head, the other to your side trapping you between the door and himself. He leant down and kissed you. It was soft and delicate, his cool lips sucking the air out of your lungs. He pulled away winking at you before he sauntered off to join his teammates at some frat party.

That was the beginning of a three-year relationship with Pietro, you two had been on multiple dates, some official, some were just bumping into each other at the same party and then spending the rest of the evening together all through November and early December of your first year. He even came to support you at your Cheerleading competitions. Neither of you had put a label on it, but he had changed his home screen to a picture of the pair of you, it was one captured by Peter Parker, funnily enough, he was visiting the Uni with his photography club and captured the moment Pietro had picked you up after the Wolverines won their 6th game. He spun you around before dropping you down and kissing your forehead. Pietro didn’t know that you had seen his home screen. However as you were both travelling home for the Holidays you had agreed to travel together, Pietro had offered to drive but you had refused. Telling him that it would be easier for you to drive as you would be running lines late and therefore you could swing by his apartment on the way out of town. It was only a short drive to Dearborn but with the extra holiday traffic, you estimated it would take at least an hour to get to your parents. You connected your iPod to the car via AUX and pulled up your playlist you had made for the drive. You avoided all Christmas songs, and you were sick of them they played everywhere you went. Instead, you opted for Taylor Swift, damn she had blown up since 2008.

After about 30 minutes of driving as you hit the peak of the holiday traffic, you leant over to turn down the volume of your music. Comfortable with the pace of the traffic, you turned your head to Pietro. “So,” you began. “What’s up Bunny?” Pietro asked snapping his eyes up from his phone. “Well, I just thought now might be a good time to talk, we’re obviously going to run into a lot of our old friends, and there’s no way Wanda won’t know something is going on here, and I, I saw your lock screen,” you said, you could feel yourself blush, there was something about Pietro, he made you feel like a high school sophomore all over again. “So you were wondering what we are?” the amusement in Pietro’s voice didn’t escape your notice, you could feel yourself getting embarrassed. Of course, he was a college Sophomore, you two had never had the exclusive talk, how could you be so silly. You stared straight ahead focusing on the slow-moving traffic. Oh god, you wanted to die. Pietro noticed the change in your demeanour and instantly felt bad, he grabbed your right hand from the steering wheel. “Hey Bunny, look at me,” he said softly, you turned your head to face him. “We are exclusive, we are a couple, I’m sorry you felt the need to ask, but I adore you, so we are a thing,” he said stroking circles on the back of your hand. You smiled and nodded to yourself.

Almost everyone had made it back for the Holidays, excluding a few people, Bucky, Carol, and Jane, they all had their reasons, but you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that Carol and Jane had been unable to make it back. Wanda was elated for you and Pietro, to your surprise she threatened Pietro and not you. Christmas break came and went all too quickly. Pietro even brought you a small gift even though he didn’t celebrate Christmas, what with being Jewish. He was also very touched at your gift a small, framed copy of the photo of his lock screen, only in black and white except for the ribbon in your hair, the number on his Jersey matching his number painted on your cheek. The next year also seemed to rush by, between keeping on top of your studies, your rehearsals for the play, football matches, nationals for your cheerleading competition. It felt like you had barely any time to breathe.

2012

The summer between your 1st year and 2nd year was a small respite, Pietro had decided to stay in his apartment for the summer, he had a summer job and you decided to stick around after trying out for a local theatres summer production of Grease, unsurprisingly you had been cast as Patty Simcox a cheerleader. “How ironic, my little cheerleader playing a cheerleader” Pietro joked. You just rolled your eyes at him, that night Pietro stayed in your dorm, you were going to have to move out for the summer, your roommate for the year had decided she was going to move into her Sorority House next year and was going home for the summer. You and Pietro were cuddled up on the sofa watching Grease, you had your legs over Pietro and the arm of the sofa. To your surprise, Pietro had confessed he’d never seen it and had asked you to watch it with him so he could see who you would be playing. You let out a sigh. “What’s up bunny?” he asked not taking his eyes of the movie, he was rubbing small circles on your legs. “Student housing emailed me today, they said since Sophie is moving out and going home for the summer. I can’t stay in my dorm this summer. I’m trying to figure out where to go as the apartment I want to rent isn’t available until August” you said, blowing your hair out of your face. “Move in with me for the summer,” Pietro said without skipping a beat. “We’re not going to be around much in the daytime, you’ve spent a lot of nights at mine recently and it’s just for the summer, theirs a spare bedroom where you can store your stuff, and Wanda will be visiting in 3 weeks, it’s no big deal,” he said as he continued rubbing circles on your legs. You stared at him for a moment, your mind racing. “Okay,” you said nervously biting your lip. “Okay, I’ll move in for the summer,” you said again this time sounding surer of yourself. You picked up the remote and pressed pause on the DVD. You and Pietro had been dating for most of the school year, and he had been nothing but a gentleman never pressuring you for more than you were comfortable with, he knew Bucky had hurt you and you still hadn’t had sex yet as a result of it. You stood up a peeled of your jumper, Pietro cocked his head with his cute, puzzled expression. You didn’t say anything, instead, you removed your athletic shorts leaving you in nothing but one of Pietro’s football jerseys and your panties. You walked to your bedroom. Pietro didn’t move. After a few moments of waiting for him to follow you walked to your door frame and coughed, Pietro looked at you. “Well, are you coming or not handsome?” you asked leaning against your frame, so his jersey rid up slightly exposing the skin of your stomach. Pietro chucked his phone on the sofa before throwing you over his shoulder. That night you and Pietro had sex for the first time.

December 2012

Summer came and went in a blur of a heatwave, and lots of sex. You moved into your apartment off-campus, you spent a lot of time hanging out with Loki between classes, throwing ideas back and forth for an original piece you had to work on for the spring showcase. Pietro and you would always ride to games together, with Pietro being in his third year, the team bus rides were no longer compulsory and as the college couldn’t afford for the squad to have a bus you had to make your own way to the away games anyway. You and Pietro had driven home for Winter break, your family had decided to head to Boston this year, that way your cousin could see his family, however as you and Pietro had a game two days after New Years it didn’t make sense for you to fly out for such a short period off time. This was your first Christmas in years where you wouldn’t be seeing your family, or even celebrating really. However, Wanda and her Mum had insisted Pietro bring you home with him for the winter break. So that was how you found yourself sat in Pietro and Wanda’s basement drinking beer and hanging out with the old gang along with some new faces. Carol had brought home her girlfriend Valkyrie, Jane and Sam were there, even Peter Parker who was now a senior was there he’d even brought his girlfriend Gwen with him. Wanda had brought home her Boyfriend James or Vision as he was affectionately known. Wanda was studying Fashion in NYC; Vision was studying IT and was a whiz with technology. You were cuddled up in the corner of the sofa with Pietro, he was playing some game with Sam and Peter and you were scrolling through your IG feed. Taylor Swift’s latest Album Red playing through the speakers. Pietro had groaned but with Sam being a secret Swifty he was quickly outvoted. You kissed Pietro’s cheek getting up to grab another bottle of beer each. You were technically underage for another few months, but Wanda’s mum had said if you were going to drink whilst you were here, she’d rather you did it under her roof in a safe controlled manner.

You heard him before you saw him. Being the gracious guest you are, you had noticed the beer was low in the fridge, so you were restocking it when you heard Bucky’s familiar laugh. You may have made peace with what Bucky had done but other than a quick congratulations and farewell at Graduation you hadn’t spoken since that summer back in 2010.

Bucky walked over to the fridge, you had changed your hair colour since you’d last seen him at Graduation in 2011, your usual hair was now a chocolate brown, you had your head in the fridge still when he coughed. “Hi I’m Bucky,” he said. You took a deep breath, grabbed three bottles of beer and pulled your head out of the fridge, turning around to face him. “I’m well aware who you are, Bucky,” you said handing him a beer. Bucky’s eyes widened as his ocean blue eyes reached yours. “Hey Buck,” you said softly. “Y/N. I didn’t recognise you” he grinned, moving to hug you. You let it happen, standing stiffly in his arms. “Yeah it's been a minute, how’s school, and Natasha, I heard you got into UDM?” you asked shooting him a smile before twisting the lid of your bottle. “Yeah, I did. Schools great kicking my ass a bit and Natasha and I broke up actually” he said avoiding eye contact with you. You and Bucky made polite conversation for a few minutes Pietro finished up his game with Sam and Peter, noticed you hadn’t returned so made his way over to you and Bucky. “Hey Bunny,” he said kissing the corner of your head before wrapping his arms around you. “Hey Buck, long time no see!” Pietro said. Bucky stood frozen for a few seconds processing what he had just witnessed. “Hey, Pietro Yeah. It's been a hot minute, so you two are a couple? You guys look cute congrats. Oh man, wow is that Peter over there? I barely recognise him I’m going to go say hey. Catch you guys later!” Bucky said practically running over to Peter. You turned around and kissed Pietro. “Come on Quicksilver, let’s see if I can beat you at Mario Kart,” you said pulling him over to the sofa.

December 2012 – August 2014

Winter break came and went. Your second year at Uni whizzed past. Pietro even joined you and your family for your annual summer vacation in Miami, your grandparents were getting on a bit so you decided to skip the summer production of Hairspray. By the time, your third year rolled around you and Pietro settled into a routine between school, studying, games and rehearsals you would steal kisses in the hallways, meet one another at classes with hot drinks, coffee for Pietro not that he needed a boost of energy and usually a hot chocolate for you. After football games, Pietro would drive you back to his apartment. If it were a rare free evening, you’d curl up with a movie at yours. Hanging onto the small moments of peace. You both knew Pietro was going to be moving to New York after he graduated. He’d been studying business and was going to start a fashion company with Wanda. You also both knew that long-distance wasn’t going to work, you’d been majoring in performing arts, but you had also been taking extra courses to help with a career in advertising as a backup. Saying your goodbyes to one another sucked ass. You and Pietro had left your annual Miami holiday a week early to spend a week in Florida visiting the Theme Parks, Wanda and Vision were also going to meet you there. Neither of you had grown up exceptionally wealthy, but Wanda and Pietro’s dad Max Eisenhardt had reached out to them a few years back and had insisted on paying for the four of you to have a group vacation. He had tried to convince Wanda and Pietro to book a holiday in Germany where he was living but they had refused. Pietro had already packed up his apartment and moved most of it back to his family home whilst you finished up school for the year. He had been staying with you for the summer before joining you on your vacation so when you headed to the airport it was time to say your goodbyes. “Be good Bunny, don’t cause too much mischief with Loki and stay in touch. I love you my little Bunny” he said wiping the tears from your eyes. You couldn’t say anything, so you just held him tight and cried.

Tagging the bestie @lannycleave because I have promised to write a sad Steve one as a way to punnish myself

Part 2

#bucky x reader #pietro x reader #avengers au #marvel #marvel au #avengers fanfiction #𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬𝟐𝐤 #bucky barnes fluff #pietro maximoff fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #pietro maximoff fanfiction #natasha x bucky

125 notes · View notes

leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— delicacy.

juliet’s masterlist

note: words in bold are spoken in english

set in late april, 2021

summary: in which juliet makes lets dino try an australian delicacy for the first time.

a/n: idk where this idea came from but i’m not regretting it one bit bc i think this came out pretty cute 👉👈 also this gif 💔 god i’m not your strongest soldier

“Wait, how many of them are home?”

Juliet’s hand, outstretched and holding the key to their dorms, pauses as she turns to look at Chan, noting how he has gotten even more nervous since they got into the elevator.

“Not all, some of them are still at the company,” she reassures. With her free hand, she reaches for one of his, though it’s not easy with the bags of takeout he’s holding. “Besides, you’re our senior! If anyone should be nervous, it’s them,” she jokes.

“Wrong,” Chan says sulkily as she turns away briefly to unlock the front door. “When we’re at work, then maybe. But now I’m your boyfriend, not their senior, so it’s different.”

“You’re right,” Juliet agrees, as they step in and remove their shoes. She looks around the common space to find it empty. “But they like you a lot already, so there’s no need to worry. See? No one’s here—”

As if on cue, they hear one of the bedroom doors open, and Yunho walks into the living room seconds later. “Oh, hi!” he says cheerfully when he sees Juliet and Chan by the front door. “Just make yourself at home!”

“Where are you going?” Juliet asks, setting the takeout bags on the kitchen counter while she watches him put on his sneakers. Next to her, Chan takes off his mask before washing his hands at the sink.

“They sent me to go get food.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“Yeosangie, Wooyoungie and Jongho.”

“Why not just choose the delivery option?”

Yunho smiles bashfully. “Because we’re idiots and forgot.”

This earns a small snort from Juliet. “Okay, fair enough. Be safe!” she calls out as Yunho heads out with a wave. She turns back to Chan with a grin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Yeah... just seven more to go. Then again, you had to meet all twelve of them at once,” he says with a small smile, referring to his own members. “So it can’t be worse than that.”

“That’s the spirit!” she cheers, beaming at him before she grabs the bags and moves them to the dining table.

Juliet is in the middle of laying out all the takeout boxes when she hears him ask, “Uh... what’s this?”

She turns around to see Chan fiddling with the iconic yellow jar as he attempts to read the English labels. “Vegemite. Have you had it before?”

“It’s the Australian spread, right?” Juliet nods. “I think I’ve seen it before when we were on tour in Australia years ago, but I didn’t try it.”

“Do you want to?”

What was Chan supposed to do? Say no to those eyes? When they’re now ten times more sparkly?

He watches adoringly as she eagerly grabs two slices of bread from the counter and practically skips over to the toaster, popping the bread in before leaning over the machine in favour of glaring at it intensely.

“Is that gonna make them toast quicker?”

“Oh, shush,” she says, rolling her eyes at his teasing. “Come over and help me.”

“Help you... watch the toaster?” He’s already behind her despite the skepticism in his tone, arms wrapping securely around her waist and chin coming down to rest on her shoulder.

The two stand in comfortable silence for several moments as they continue to gaze at the machine. Nothing happens other than the smell of toasted bread beginning to waft through the air.

“Still think staring at it makes it work faster?”

Juliet makes a tiny humph sound. “This toaster is an exception.”

“Mhm, sure,” Chan mumbles against the fabric of her sweater, “whatever you say.”

She cranes her neck to throw him a halfhearted glare. “You can go get the butter from the fridge if you’re so impatient.”

“No, I like it here.”

“Then don’t—shit!” Juliet yelps, flinching in his hold when the toast suddenly pops up with a loud clunk. Her cheeks flush pink when Chan starts laughing, and she wriggles out of his arms to grab a butter knife. “Stop laughing at me!” she whines, throwing open the refrigerator doors in search of the butter.

“Sorry, you’re just adorable,” he says, putting the toast on a plate before following her to the dining table.

Juliet shakes her head in mock exasperation at him, spreading a thin layer of butter onto both slices before doing the same with the vegemite when at that exact moment, Yeosang and Wooyoung walk by them.

The former wrinkles his nose when he notices what she’s doing. “Your boyfriend comes over for the first time and you’re giving him... vegemite?” he teases.

“What is that supposed to mean, Kang Yeosang? Also, we’re obviously not having vegemite toast for dinner,” Juliet defends, gesturing to the food on the table. “We bought takeout. I’m just letting him try it.”

Wooyoung snorts. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Chan glances at Juliet, now slightly concerned. “Is it really that bad?”

Yeosang grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge and pours some into a cup. “It’s the only food in the house that no one other than her touches, and we literally eat everything else. Do what you will with that information.”

She gasps, scandalised. “Excuse me, Seonghwa-oppa said he likes it!”

“Trust me,” Wooyoung interjects playfully, “he wouldn’t be saying the same if any other one of us offered it to him. He only said it because it’s you.”

“Whatever, I’m not standing for this vegemite slander,” Juliet huffs, shooing the two boys away. “Enjoy having no taste.”

Wooyoung flicks her forehead lightly before pulling Yeosang along with him, nearly causing the older boy to spill his drink. “Have fun, lovebirds!” he yells over his shoulder. “But not too much fun!”

Juliet turns back to Chan with an unimpressed expression. “You see what I have to put up with?”

He grins in response. “Maknae struggles.”

“Maknae struggles,” she agrees, holding a piece of the toast to his lips. “Well, bon appétit.”

Somewhat warily, Chan takes a bite and proceeds to chew slowly, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar taste. Juliet peers at his expression in an attempt to gauge what he’s thinking.

He swallows. “It’s good.”

“Liar,” Juliet says affectionately. “You don’t like it, do you?”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, you got me. Not that it’s disgusting, it’s just... not bad... but not good.”

“You’re so cute,” she says, pinching his cheek gently. “You don’t have to finish it, by the way, I’ll eat it later after we finish our food.” Then she remembers something. “Wait, I have something for you in my room.”

“You can just grab it after dinner.”

But she’s already out of her seat and halfway down the hall. “No, I’ll forget later! I’ll be back in a few seconds!”

A few seconds turns into minutes as she rummages through her overflowing closet whilst grumbling to herself, the fact that she left Chan defenceless in the living room completely slipping her mind. She’s not a disorganised person, especially when it comes to her clothes and closet organisation, so she blames their hectic schedule for its current state.

Eventually, she finds his lavender hoodie squished between two of her own, and heads back to the dining room when she sees—

“Choi Jongho, what are you doing?”

He turns away from Chan to smile at her innocently, wholly unaffected by her narrowed eyes. “Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing.”

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Jongho says, looking down at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “I gotta go feed my pet fish. See you!” And with that, he disappears back into his room as quickly as he had appeared.

They don’t have a pet fish.

Sighing, Juliet sits back down next to Chan. “Sorry about that, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he reassures with a soft smile. “He was very sweet, though he did give me a friendly reminder to never hurt you. But I don’t mind, it just shows that he cares about you a lot.”

She returns the smile. “Yeah... he does. They all do. By the way, here’s the hoodie I borrowed from you last time,” she says, holding out the folded garment. “It’s washed and everything.”

Chan grins, setting it down on a spare chair. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to see it again when I gave it to you.”

“Excuse you, I’m not a thief! But... does this mean I can have it?”

a/n: okay so a few years ago i went on a study tour to australia and the host family my friend and i were staying with let us try some and we both thought it was pretty good ahjshwjs 🤩

i hope you guys like the fluff in this update bc this is the calm before the storm hehehe 👉👈 anyways gn besties lemme know what you think of this 🥺💗 thank you for reading and i hope you’re doing well!!

134 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 4 years

Text

Best Friends Forever (Fratboy!Peter Parker x Reader)

This is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor What’s Old is New Again Challenge! This fic is inspired by #18, “A gentleman is simply a patient wolf. – Lana Turner. Hope you all enjoy!

warnings: NON-CON, manipulation, roofie

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

summary: Peter Parker is your best friend. Peter Parker is your only friend. Peter wants to keep it that way.

Peter Parker was your best friend. In fact, Peter Parker was your only friend. The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. You grew up together attached at the hip, and therefore, you did everything together.

He was there, watching in awe when you pulled your first loose tooth. You did the same when he pulled his first one weeks later. You helped each other learn how to ride bikes, double dutch, and even attempt to skateboard once. The two of you had broken so many bones together that you had lost count.

You weathered middle school together and the absolute insanity that was high school. You two had been best friends all your life, and it had never been anything more than that, so you both were equally confused when catty high school girls and bored high school guys would constantly accuse the two of you of dating. It was a thought that had never crossed your minds, and it was something you often laughed about.

There were absolutely no secrets between you two, and despite that, you still found yourself completely frozen in shock as you watched Peter slip in through your bedroom window one night during sophomore year. He was covered in bruises, and the oddly familiar red and blue fit he wore had some tears. You had stumbled off of your bed, running to grab him as he struggled to stand.

Realization hit you as he leaned against your wall, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, and your eyes almost popped out of your head.

“Y-you’re Spider-Man?”

It had come out louder than you had intended, and he was frantic as he covered your mouth, begging you to keep quiet. Neither one of you slept much that night as you demanded answers from him. You remembered feeling upset and betrayed that he had been hiding something so important from you, but even worse, you felt worried.

Your best friend had been put in danger so many times while you had been none the wiser. From then on, you demanded that he pass through your house to change out of his suit before going home. Not only for it to be safe for him to get home, but to put your own heart at ease too. It gave you a sense of comfort to see for yourself that he ended the night in one piece.

It was a tough secret to keep, incredibly trying to keep your thoughts to yourself as you watched his crime fighting be reported day in and day out. It was difficult to keep your worry at bay when he was late sneaking into your bedroom or to keep yourself from crying out when he was especially hurt. You were the only one who knew the truth, and the gravity of it served to further isolate the two of you.

Peter was literally your only friend and had been for as long as you could remember. What did it matter that you had never had any girlfriends, even now during college? Sure, you had always envied that special bond some girls seemed to have with each other. Of course, it bothered you a little that you had never experienced what it was like to have a best friend who could relate to you in every single way, but Peter was plenty. Yeah, there were some things that as a guy, he would never fully be able to empathize with, but his sympathy and well intentions were enough.

Besides, having a guy best friend came with its perks. Peter understood guys way better than you could ever hope to, and he was always more than eager to give you advice. Thanks to him, you could probably call yourself an expert on them, but in the end, it never did any good. You had never had a boyfriend, never even anything remotely close. Sure, it bothered you, a lot, but in the end you were grateful.

Peter saved you from regret more times than you could count. Every guy you had ever vocalized interest in turned out to be absolute garbage. At least, that was what Peter told you, and you trusted him. He was never wrong about these things. Tristan, an upperclassman that you’d had a crush on during your freshman year, had apparently been a racist creep. James from your junior year was a party animal with anger issues. Your first year of college, you’d fallen head over heels for a literature major named Logan, but Peter had to be the bearer of bad news when he informed you that the guy had a girlfriend back home and about three more on campus.

After that, you had just given up completely. You saw no point to any of it when every guy you had ever liked turned out to be awful. In the end, Peter was truly the only one you could trust. You were beyond thankful for him, and the day you could bring a guy around with Peter’s approval was the day you would know you found a good one. Unfortunately, you were starting to think that day would never come. You dreaded the day Peter would finally get a girlfriend, because then you would truly be a lonely wreck.

You found it odd that Peter had been single all this time too. This wasn’t high school anymore. In college, girls liked guys who were smart and who read and knew how to have conversations outside of sports. Add the fact that Peter had grown to be quite attractive and had even joined a fraternity, he was a catch. So it was safe to say you didn’t get it, and told him so one night.

“I’ve just never met the right girl,” he said with a shrug, distracted.

“Oh, come on,” you scoffed in disbelief. “So many great girls have shown interest in you. What about MJ? She was tall and funny and her hair-! God, her hair.”

He snorted, a faint smirk on his lips.

“I just wasn’t into her.”

“Why not?” you wondered.

MJ was practically perfect, and you had never known Peter to be nitpicky. He just shrugged, eyes focused on his laptop as he typed away.

“Peter,” you whined. “This is just sad. One of us has to start dating soon or we’ll just end up staring at each other in our old age.”

“I’ve dated,” he said, offended as his eyes cut up to you.

You rolled your eyes, flicking your pencil at him.

“I mean dating dating, not whatever it is you and your “frat bros” do every weekend. That house has seen more girls than a gynecologist clinic,” you complained.

“You know I’m not like that,” he said, shutting his laptop and setting it aside.

While he was somewhat right, he’d still had his own fair share of fun with some of the girls who went to their parties.

“You may not be as bad as the rest of them, but you can’t fool me, Peter. Remember, there are no secrets between us,” you replied, leaning back into the couch. “When are you going to get a girlfriend?”

He didn’t answer, and you continued.

“I know you want one. You’ve mentioned it several times, and I know dozens of girls that would be thrilled to be given the chance.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you his full attention now.

“I just…haven’t found the right girl,” he lamely repeated.

You opted to leave it alone, skeptically eyeing him before reaching out to turn on the tv. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, but he fortunately spoke before you had a chance to ask him what was up.

“To be honest…there was a time when I thought…you’d be my girlfriend,” he quietly confessed, almost like he was afraid of your reaction.

You looked at him, shock and disbelief coursing through you. A humorless chuckle left your lips.

“You’re kidding…”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were completely serious.

“No, I’m not. It was senior year of high school and… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I know we were teased about it for years and the idea was crazy to us, but one day…I realized that you were the person I was closest to in the world…and I wanted to be closer.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in awe as you listened to this confession. You had never known, and you wondered how you could have missed it. What kind of friend were you?

“It was the only secret I ever kept from you…”

You turned to fully look at him.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He shrugged, dark eyes studying you.

“I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I just forced myself to let it go. And I did,” he answered.

He was right. You had never felt the same way, and you started to wonder what would have happened if he had confessed his feelings to you. How awkward that could have been… It could have ruined everything.

“Peter…I can’t believe you did that. That must have…sucked,” you whispered.

He chuckled.

“I’m not going to lie. It kind of did, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You’re special to me, and nothing would have been worth making our friendship weird or just destroying it altogether. It turned out to be nothing more than a crush, anyway. Just…teenage hormones.”

You felt your heart clench, wondering if you would have done the same. It must have been torture for him to swallow his feelings just to keep things comfortable between you two, no matter how fleeting the whole thing was for him.

“Really, it’s no big deal, Y/N. I’m long over it, now,” he waved you off.

You chuckled, moving past the brief shock you’d just experienced.

“I’m glad for that. If you told me you still had feelings for me, I probably would’ve accused you of sabotage all these years.”

“Sabotage,” he scoffed. “Listen, every single guy you’ve been into was downright awful. You literally have the worst taste in men-.”

“I do not!”

“You do, Y/N. Honestly, if it wasn’t for me, who knows what you would have gotten yourself into.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just for that, you’re paying for the takeout, tonight.”

“Botany? That’s crazy! I want to go into agriculture,” you said with a laugh.

The guy before you, Harry, chuckled with you. The two of you were tucked into a quiet corner of the kitchen. The rest of the house was vibrating with a deep bass, the sound of noisy college students filling your ears. Parties weren’t your thing, but frat parties especially were definitely not your thing. Somehow, Peter had finally talked you into attending one of his house’s infamous parties, and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes before you grabbed a drink with as little alcohol as possible and hid in the kitchen.

It was miraculous really that you bumped into an attractive guy who was equally uncomfortable with these things. He was funny and charming, and he wanted to study plants. You tried not to get ahead of yourself, but someone else might say it was fate that you two ran into each other. Hell, you ran into each other at Peter’s frat house, so the chances that they knew each other were high. Maybe Peter would have good things to tell you about him.

As if he was summoned by your thoughts, your eyes connected with familiar brown ones as he poked his head into the kitchen.

“Peter!”

You waved him over, and his eyes flitted between you and Harry as he approached you.

“Hey, Parker. I didn’t know you knew Y/N,” Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, Peter and I go way back. He’s my best friend,” you said, pulling Peter over.

Your best friend was being unusually quiet, and you frowned. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his eyes had hardened. Was he okay?

“Y/N was just telling me that she wants to go into agriculture. We’ll probably be taking a lot of classes together in about two years,” Harry threw out.

Peter chuckled at that, but it sounded off, and he turned to look at you.

“I figured you’d be hiding in the kitchen, so I came to find you,” Peter said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

A shudder passed through you at the unfamiliar gesture, but you brushed it off.

“Oh, you know how I am. I’m glad I ran into Harry though! He’s been keeping me company, so you can just go back to the party if you want. Your friends are probably looking for you,” you replied.

Peter had become quite popular since you two started college, and you knew that the demand for his attention was rather high. You often felt bad about dragging him down with you. You weren’t really the social type.

“Yeah, Parker, I can look out for Y/N for you,” Harry offered, a friendly smile on his lips.

You returned it and noticed the way Peter’s jaw ticked, and confusion filled you.

“Actually, I came to find Y/N so that we can go,” Peter bit out.

Your frown deepened, but you didn’t question it as Peter gripped your hand.

“Oh, okay. I guess we’re leaving. See you around, Harry!”

He waved back as Peter pulled you out of the kitchen. His grip was tight on your hand as he weaved through swaying bodies and drunk students. Again, you wondered if he was upset about something. It was Peter, so you hardly ever saw him upset. You breathed in the fresh air when the two of you made it outside, and you took the time to eye him.

“Peter…you alright?”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving before he looked at you with a smile. He looked more like himself and you returned it.

“Yeah, I’m just…not feeling too good,” he answered.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “Are you getting sick?”

He shrugged, hand in his pockets.

“I don’t know. I probably had too much to drink. Mind if I crash at your place?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“You’re always welcome to sleep over, you know that.”

It was quiet for a while between you two as you walked back to your apartment. His hand was soft on yours, and the way his arm kept brushing against yours brought comfort to you. You were so used to his presence, borderline dependent on it, and just knowing he was beside you was reassuring.

“I love you, Peter, but please don’t invite me to anymore parties,” you suddenly whispered, a hint of mock fear in your voice.

He barked a laugh, and you joined him.

“All of them aren’t that bad, I promise,” he chuckled. “Did you really hate it that much?”

You hummed, releasing a sigh.

“Maybe I didn’t hate it all that much,” you admitted after some time.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as a wistful smile fell over your lips, eyes gazing at the sky.

“So…how do you know Harry?”

His hand tightened around your own just the slightest.

“He’s in another frat,” he answered with a scoff. “He’s a spoiled rich kid who thinks he can get anything he wants by throwing money at it.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Somehow, I’m not shocked by that, but… You know what? I don’t care.”

He stopped walking, pulling you to a halt with him, and he stared at you with a frown.

“What? What do you mean?”

You shrugged.

“I like him. We have a lot in common and he’s hilarious and so cute. Maybe… Maybe I’m expecting too much, you know?”

Peter looked even more confused, jaw clenching as his frown deepened.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean… Yes, I’m a huge romantic and I want a boyfriend, a serious boyfriend, like I have for years, but… You have always been a girlfriend kind of guy. It’s no secret that you’re open to a serious relationship, and you claim the only reason that hasn’t happened yet is because you haven’t found the right girl, but… Peter, that’s never stopped you from having fun,” you elaborated.

He didn’t respond, and you sighed.

“I’m just saying that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should stop trying to make a boyfriend out of every guy I’m into and just have fun. Like you!”

He forced a chuckle past his lips.

“That’s…that’s not like you…”

“I know, but… I’m tired of being alone,” you shrugged. “We’re in college, now, and the chances of me finding a boyfriend are pretty low. Let you tell it, a good portion of the guys here are trash, but that only matters if you’re looking for something serious, and I don’t think I want that anymore.”

Peter was uncharacteristically quiet…again, and you tilted your head at him.

“That’s…a big change for you,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “…but I’m really into Harry. You’ll help me, right?”

Your pleading gaze met his dark one, slightly frowning at the way he was looking at you. He pursed his lips.

“Please, Peter? I really like him, and you know him so well.”

He looked away with a small sigh. He briefly closed his eyes before eventually nodding, and you smiled. He looked at you with a grin on his lips, taking your hand again as he continued the trek down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. Leave it to me, Y/N, and I’ll help you get laid in no time,” he relented.

You squealed, reaching up to shake his shoulders as you pushed him along.

“You’re an angel!”

He chuckled.

“What are best friends for?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, that was much better than I was expecting,” Harry relented.

“See! I told you, I am an excellent judge when it comes to these things,” you replied as the two of you walked out of the theatre.

It was the sixth date the two of you had been on in 4 weeks. True to his word, Peter had helped you out, and that next morning after the party, you’d woken up to a text from Harry Osborn himself. A huge grin had spread out over your face, and you didn’t hesitate to reply.

The two of you had been talking nonstop since then about practically any and everything. It turns out that you hadn’t been premature in thinking the two of you had so much in common. It was true! It was almost suspicious how much of the same things you liked, including horror films.

“Listen, the storyline didn’t seem all that original, and when I had watched the trailer, I felt like I’d seen the entire thing in less than 2 minutes,” he defended.

“Okay, okay, that I can understand, but ever since I’d missed out on seeing both Insidious and The Conjuring in theatres because I thought they were going to suck, I vowed to myself ‘never again’.”

“Yikes! Both of those films were great. I just know you still kick yourself over that one,” he laughed.

“It literally haunts me,” you groaned. “I know experiencing both of those in the theatre must have been amazing.”

Harry seemed to find your regret amusing, and he stopped to look at you with a smile on his face.

“Hey, so uh, my frat is throwing a party this weekend. I mean, we do just about every weekend, but I was thinking maybe you could come…as my…date this weekend?”

Your eyes widened a bit, and you felt your face heat up. He seemed nervous to ask you, like he didn’t know how you’d feel about it, and it was wild to you. You really liked Harry, and you thought you had made that more than obvious over the past month. Sure, Peter was right when he said he was a bit of a snob, but it wasn’t overbearingly so to the point that it became a turn off. Crazily enough, you could see Harry being more than just ‘fun’.

“I’d love that,” you honestly replied.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards into a smirk, and he stepped closer to you on the deserted sidewalk.

“Yeah…?”

You nodded, looking up at him as he got closer. Neither one of you said anything as he reached up to gently grip your jaw, leaning in until his lips pressed against yours. You sharply inhaled, closing your eyes as you savored this. His lips were soft, and the way he moved them against yours told you that he was experienced.

That didn’t bother you. Truth be told, you had always wanted to be with someone who knew what they were doing, because honestly, you had no idea. You felt flutters deep in your stomach, and you shuffled closer to him when a cool breeze blew by. He pulled away just a little, opening his eyes to look at you as you did the same.

“Come on. Let me walk you back to your place,” he offered.

You happily gripped his hand as he did just that.

You felt giddy, absolutely on cloud nine as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Maybe you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, but a nice and rich frat guy was asking you to be his date to his house’s party. In context, this whole thing was showing a lot of promise. Guys like him normally liked to keep their options open, and him actually claiming you as his date was making somewhat of a statement.

You waved him goodbye as you made your way inside the complex, lips still tingling from the second kiss he’d given you just outside. You were still smiling when you rounded the corner that led to your hall, pausing as your eyes fell on a familiar figure outside of your door.

“Peter, hey!”

He pulled himself to his feet with a small groan, stretching as you fished your keys out of your purse.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for over an hour,” he said, glancing at his watch.

You gave him a sheepish look as you let him go in first.

“Sorry. I went to go see a movie with Harry,” you answered.

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “You’re still seeing that guy?”

“That guy,” you scoffed with a small chuckle. “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess…”

“You staying over tonight?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“I really wasn’t planning to, but since I’ve been waiting this long, I don’t want to go back to the house in the dark.”

You hummed, opening your drawer of takeout menus to figure out what you should order.

“So…how are things going with Harry?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that fell over your lips.

“Great actually,” you said, sounding surprised. “He asked me to be his date to the party his frat is throwing this weekend.”

Peter’s eyes were wide as you glanced up at him, dark eyebrows raised as he looked at you.

“Really…”

“Yeah! I don’t know… I wasn’t exactly planning for this to be anything serious, you know? I wanted to experience some light fun for once in my life, but now… I think I can see us actually being something,” you whispered.

Peter didn’t reply right away, only humming in response.

“Are you going to the party?”

He blinked, heaving a sigh before shaking his head.

“Nah. I’m not really a fan of the kind of parties they throw,” he said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?”

He waved you off.

“They can just get pretty wild. They regularly get noise complaints and don’t really monitor how much alcohol people are drinking until it’s too late and there’s throw up everywhere,” he explained with a frown.

“Oh…”

You were a bit disappointed that Peter wasn’t going to be there, but you had to remind yourself to stop being so dependent upon him. The two of you couldn’t stay attached at the hip forever, and at some point, you had to start making a social life for yourself…by yourself.

Friday night came much quicker than expected, and you were all dressed and ready to go. The house wasn’t far from your place, and since it was still daylight, you didn’t mind walking. You’d worn comfortable shoes, so it didn’t bother you.

Even though you would probably be considered an early arriver, the place was already lively when you stepped through the door. Everywhere you turned, you were met with someone’s back or chest, and you struggled to maneuver yourself through the bodies. You didn’t recognize anyone, and almost wished that Peter had come with you, growing nervous until you spotted a familiar head of dark hair.

You approached Harry with a smile, reaching out to grab his arm. His eyes were wide when he turned to face you, and you frowned when he maneuvered his arm out of your grip. Your frown only deepened when he stepped away from you, glancing away, and that was when you noticed the girl at his side.

She hadn’t been paying attention, gaze elsewhere, but she smiled when she finally turned to look at you. She was blonde and beautiful and had perfect teeth, dazzling you as she grinned. Her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around Harry’s arm as she leaned into him.

“Hey! Are you a friend of Harry’s?”

She seemed sweet, and confusion filled you at their familiar body language.

“Babe, this is Y/N. She’s super close with my friend Peter,” Harry answered, barely sparing you a glance.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you eyed them.

“Oh! I’ve yet to meet Peter, but I’ve heard you mention him sometimes. I’m Scarlet, Harry’s girlfriend,” she introduced herself.

If it all possible, you probably would have thrown up, but you hadn’t eaten anything all day, too nervous about tonight.

“Oh, wow! I don’t think Peter ever mentioned Harry having a girlfriend,” you responded, hoping it sounded casual.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, but you didn’t spare him a glance.

“Well, I’ve never actually met Peter, and Harry and I only recently go back together…what was it? Two months ago?”

“Two months ago…wow…”

You didn’t know what to say, and you finally understood the full meaning of ‘speechless’ in that moment.

“Yeah, Harry didn’t have any plans this weekend as far as I knew, so I decided to come down and surprise him. You should have seen his face when I showed up on the doorstep an hour ago,” she laughed.

You joined her, feeling like you were going to be sick.

“I’ll let you two catch up. It was nice to meet you!”

“You too,” Scarlet said, waving goodbye as you turned and pushed yourself through the crowd.

There were tears in your eyes, and your body was shaking. Were you on the verge of a panic attack? You stumbled over your own feet as you attempted to make your way to the door. So focused on the baby pink polish on your toes, you didn’t notice the figure before you until your head was colliding with their chest.

You stumbled back, almost falling had it not been for a familiar pair of hands. You looked up in shock, and everything crashed into you as your eyes met Peter’s. His gaze was inquiring, worry coloring his features as he studied you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, letting it fall against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What happened?”

“H-Harry has a girlfriend,” you whispered.

You felt him tense against you.

“…what?”

“I mean… I thought… You said he was just some spoiled rick kid. You never mentioned a girlfriend,” you said, looking up at him.

“I didn’t know. Honest. They broke up forever ago,” he replied, pulling you against him.

“Yeah, well apparently, they got back together two months ago. The whole time we’d been talking and going out together he…,” you trailed off, shaking your head. “He treated me like I was practically a stranger.”

Peter’s jaw ticked, and he moved to go past you, but you stopped him. His dark eyes were focused on Harry no doubt, but you pressed your hands into his chest.

“Peter, let it go. Please! Just…stay with me? I don’t think I want to go home…”

The last thing you wanted was to lay in your bed and remind yourself of what a disaster tonight was turning out to be. Peter heaved a sigh, hands tightening on you before reluctantly nodding. He pulled you along towards the door.

“Come on. We can just go to the party at my house,” he offered.

You nodded, leaning against him as he walked you out. You wiped at your cheek, unsure of when a few tears had spilled over. You had fooled yourself into dreaming of more with Harry and look where it got you. Even if you had still only wanted something casual, there was no way you would have knowingly got involved with a guy who had a girlfriend. That wasn’t who you were.

“I thought…I thought you weren’t coming,” you whispered.

“I wasn’t, but… I didn’t want to leave you at a party where the only person you knew was Harry. I’m glad I did come,” he murmured. “What an ass…”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. Really. Maybe this is just a sign that I should stop trying to force something with every guy I like. It never turns out well,” you sighed.

Peter’s frat house was just as lively when you guys moseyed inside. A few of his brothers recognized you, and you waved at them. Peter’s arm tightened around your waist, but you didn’t mind it. You knew what other guys at the party would think, but you didn’t care. You were done with guys, and all you wanted was to hang out with Peter, the only guy you had ever been able to trust. So if they mistook you as Peter’s girl, and left you alone because of it, that was fine with you.

The two of you were attached at the hip throughout the night. Peter had gotten both of you drinks, and hours later, you were still nursing that same drink. This was never your crowd, and the more you made your way around the room with Peter, the more obvious it became. He didn’t seem to mind your company though, arm still at home on your waist. You noticed a few disappointed glances being thrown your way, and you chuckled with a frown.

“Peter, I think I’m ruining your chances of getting laid,” you finally said.

He glanced around to see what you meant before he chuckled too.

“It’s fine. You’re my best friend. I’m not just going to ditch you,” he responded.

You smiled but still felt a bit guilty that you had affected his night again. You pulled away from him, letting him know that you were going to be in the kitchen. He understood and promised to join you. To be honest, you wanted him to have fun. You didn’t exactly take pleasure in knowing that he sacrificed his usual routine at parties just for you.

You leaned against the counter, pressing your fingers to your temples as you rubbed circles into your skin. You didn’t know how the night had gone so wrong. How had you been so clueless? No, no! You were not going to do that. It wasn’t your job to watch and hunt for signs of an untruthful man. You weren’t supposed to be suspicious of a guy you were seeing. This whole situation was completely on Harry.

You finished your drink, tossing the red cup into the trash with a sigh. It was amazing that in the span of 3 hours, your life had done a complete 180. You had gone from having the time of your life to being alone and miserable and feeling absolutely foolish.

You heard footsteps make their way into the kitchen. You glanced up, face contorting in a frown as your gaze connected with that of the last person you wanted to see.

“What are you doing here?” you scoffed.

He was holding two drinks, eyes apologetic as he approached you.

“I’m sorry-.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Harry. There’s nothing that you could say that can fix this.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Scarlet and I… We’ve been having problems for a long time, now, and we both thought getting back together would make them magically go away, but they didn’t. The night we met, Scarlet and I had gotten into a huge fight, and I was under the impression that we were over…for good.”

You eyed him.

“Then she wanted to work things out, but I had already met you, and I really liked you…”

You looked away with a sigh.

“We were never exclusive, I guess, but it doesn’t matter because you have a girlfriend. You had a girlfriend the whole time we were hanging out, and I’m certain that you and she have an agreement that you guys are exclusive,” you harshly replied.

He glanced down, and you chuckled, but it lacked humor.

“You were cheating on her…with me… Never mind the obvious of how she would feel if she found out, but how do you think that makes me feel? Do you think I like being that kind of girl?”

He shook his head.

“No, no, you’re not the type-.”

“Exactly.”

He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“I know I messed up, okay? I just wanted to apologize and bring you this… You said it’s your favorite, the only drink you actually really like, and I thought maybe it could soften the blow of you chewing me out,” he confessed.

You eyed the cup, glaring at him before taking it. You took a sip before sighing.

“Well, thanks for the drink,” you saluted him with it. “…but I don’t see us moving past this Harry. It was fun, but I don’t even want to be friends with someone like you. I’m sorry, and I mean it when I say I hope you and Scarlet work things out.”

You brushed past him, taking another sip of the fruity mixture as you went in search of Peter. It was easy to find him, following the sound of his familiar laughter. He didn’t mention anything as he wrapped his arm around you, and you figured that he didn’t know Harry was here yet.

“Hey, I was coming, I swear I was-.”

“Peter, it’s fine! You know I don’t care about you keeping me company or not. I’m a big girl.”

He returned your smile, pulling you closer as his hand tightened on your waist.

You didn’t plan to stay much longer, and about an hour later you decided that you would head out…after you used the bathroom. You found it much more difficult to weave through the sweaty bodies this time, and you blinked as your vision spun for half a second. You stopped to steady yourself, pressing your hand to your head in confusion.

You eventually made it to the bathroom, and you took some time to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked alright, for the most part, but you felt so…off. Your fingers were tingling just the slightest, and the bass in the houses sounded incredibly far away. By the time you were done in the bathroom, you were stumbling out.

You had to hold onto the wall for support, and confusion filled you. You’d only been drunk a handful of times, but this time felt different. Even worse, you had only had two drinks. You dreaded making your way down the stairs, and you had to pause and lean your back on the wall halfway down. You heard someone call your name, and they too sounded so far away. You jerked when a pair of hands landed on your arms.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You stared at Harry for the longest time, wondering what he was still doing here when it clicked. You frowned at him.

“Did you put something in my drink?”

Your words were slurred, but he understood you nonetheless, and his eyes widened.

“What? No!”

“You did, didn’t you? I…I only had two drinks, and this didn’t start until after-.”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that! Come on, let me-.”

“No!” you jerked away from him. “Is this your way of getting in my pants, anyway?”

He frantically shook his head, concern and worry and disbelief all rolled into one in his gaze.

“Y/N, you have to believe me! I wouldn’t do this!”

You scoffed, pushing against him, but it was weak.

“Believe you? How could I trust anything you say?”

He blinked, something clicking in his eyes as he looked down the stairs and back to you.

“Y/N, I didn’t get the drink for you. Did Parker not tell you he saw me? He gave me the-.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

You both turned to look just as Peter came up the stairs. You stumbled towards him, fighting off Harry’s hands as Peter wrapped his arms around you.

“He put something in my drink,” you whispered, on the verge of passing out.

“What?” Peter demanded, tightening his hold on you.

“Y/N, listen-!”

“You’ve done enough, don’t you think? Get out of here, Harry, because if I tell my frat brothers you’re drugging girls they aren’t just going to let you walk out of here,” he threatened.

Harry stumbled over his words as Peter helped you back up the stairs.

“Leave,” you heard him snap at the other brunette.

Your fingers dug into his arm as he helped you walk down the hall, arms tightening around you.

“P-Peter…”

“Hey, hey… It’s okay. You can crash in my room, tonight, yeah?”

You’d only been in his room a handful of times, the both of you usually hanging out at his place. It was always clean and always smelled good, and you had thought to yourself before that it was no wonder girls kept coming back. He sat you down on his bed, and you struggled to sit upright.

You heard him fumbling around in his drawers and looked up just in time to see him coming over with a huge t-shirt. You didn’t mind when he helped you out of your clothes, welcoming it during your inebriated state. His fingers grazed your skin as he slid the shirt over you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, blinking at him.

He took his thumb to widen your eyes, getting a good look at your pupils. You felt like you were having an out of body experience, and you were grateful for Peter. You didn’t like feeling like this, and you shuddered to think about what would have happened to you had Peter not been here.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He ran his eyes over you before resting them on your fogged-out ones.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said with a small smile. “What are best friends for?”

You struggled to return the smile, and he brushed his hand along the side of your face. Your eyes fell closed at the gentle feel of his ministrations. You were somewhat in shock that Harry would do such a thing. A rapist was a big leap from cheater and liar, and you wondered what drove him to do it. He had a girlfriend, but maybe he was truly that greedy and disgusting?

You forced your eyes open when you felt Peter’s hand on the side of your neck. You blinked, eyebrows furrowing as you watched him lean in.

“Peter-.”

You were cut off when he pressed his lips against your own. Your eyes widened, and you reached up to press your hands into his chest, but you had no strength. His hand slid to grip the hair at the back of your head, tightening his grip as he leaned into you.

You mumbled incoherently into his mouth as he laid you down, his lithe frame immediately settling against yours. His other hand was on your naked thigh, his t-shirt riding up to brush against your underwear. You turned your head, gasping for breath.

“Peter…stop,” you panted. “W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you, opting instead to pull away and reach behind his head to pull his shirt off. You blinked as you were met with the sight of his bare chest. He leaned down again, pressing his lips against yours. He simply swallowed all of your protests, and you turned your head away again.

“Peter!”

“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for years, now,” he whispered against your cheek.

Your eyes widened, and confusion filled you.

“…what?”

You tried to scoot back on the bed, but he only followed, his frame still caging yours in as you both moved. His eyes were hard as he looked at you, and you felt tears collect as you fought not to cry.

“Harry gets everything, you know. It’s all just so easy for him, but I’d never let him have you,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your neck. “Not after I worked so hard to save you…for myself…”

You pushed against him again, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no. Peter, what…what are you…?”

Nothing was making sense, and your head hurt and your body felt heavy and the room was spinning. Nothing he was saying was making sense.

“Peter, you’re my best friend… This doesn’t make any sense…”

Your head lolled, much too heavy to lift as you heard him fumble with his pants. Panic gripped you, but you could hardly move. You groaned when he pressed himself against you, and you could feel him hard and throbbing between your thighs.

“Peter,” you mumbled.

“I’m going to be the only person who gets to be inside of you. The only one to know what it feels like to have you wrapped around them. God, I’ve always wanted to know what you feel like,” he whispered, kissing you again.

His fingers made their way to your core, rubbing you through your underwear. You reached up to grip his arm, but you were sure that your hold was featherlight. You let like your body weighed a ton, and the smallest of movements took so much out of you.

You whimpered as you felt your underwear grow damp, and Peter wasted no time in pushing them to the side before pushing a finger inside of you. Another soon followed, and you were panting beneath him as he worked his hand in between your legs.

“Please…stop,” you begged. “I’ll scream…”

“Can you?” he wondered, lips brushing against yours.

Tears spilled over at his question. He was right. Could you even scream? You could barely speak.

“Even if you could scream, Y/N… There’s a party going on. Who’s going to hear you? Hmm?”

He was dragging your filthy underwear down your legs, now.

“Peter, please. I’m your best friend… Please, don’t do this to me,” you pleaded.

Peter’s eyes met yours.

“It’s just been us our entire lives. All we ever needed was each other. I want to keep it that way,” he said.

You yelped, pressing your nails into his back as he slid inside of you to the hilt. Your legs were limp around him, a scream caught in your throat. He leaned down to kiss your wet cheeks, shushing you as you struggled to adjust beneath him.

He took his time as he pulled out of you before sliding back in, groaning at the way you clenched around him. You pressed your nails harder into his back, and he hissed before reaching back to grip your wrist, pinning it to the bed. He did the same with the other and kept a steady pace.

You panted beneath him, eyes fluttering closed. Whatever was coursing through your system made it impossible to focus on anything other than the way his hard length felt dragging against your walls. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he thrust into you, never taking his eyes off of you as he watched your face.

His grip tightened on your wrists, and you gasped at the pain.

“Peter…”

“It’s okay. Just enjoy it, Y/N…”

You gasped again as he picked up his pace, forehead dewy with sweat. He buried his face in your neck again, chest pressed against yours as he pinned you to the bed, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “You’re finally mine…”

Something that was a cross between a choked moan and a sob escaped you.

“I want everyone to know it-.”

“No, Peter-!”

“I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up, so everyone in this house will know you belong to me. You’re my girl, Y/N. You always have been,” he moaned. “…and when you limp out of this house with my marks on you, everyone will know it.”

He came in you with a low moan, and you sobbed into his chest as he rolled over, curling you against him. He ran his fingers down your back, lips brushing your forehead.

“I’ll make you come before the night is over,” he whispered. “I’ll be the only one to ever touch you like this.”

You shook your head, and he rolled you back onto your back, still inside of you. His dark eyes bore into your own, fingers trailing over your trembling body.

“You know exactly what I’m capable of, Y/N… You know the things I can do. I’d hate to have to hurt someone for touching what’s mine.”

tags: @sherrybaby14 @kellyn1604 @xoxabs88xox @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @villanellevi @sebabestianstan101 @harringtonsblackgf

@opheliadawnwalker3 @jtargaryen18 @notyourtypicalrose @readermia

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter #peter parker #dark fic #marvel fanfiction #dark!peter x reader

2K notes · View notes