#um i guess i should add a warning? these are kinda dark. but nothing you shouldn't expect from. knowing the characters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavenderbexlatte · 7 months ago

Text

Legendary - Chapter 2

stray kids 6.1 k words female reader insert stray kids ensemble SFW

🖤 warnings: meeting the family, plot exposition, and character archetypes, the usual 🖤

🛵Series Masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

If there is an asskicking to be had, you unfortunately don't get to see it.

All that raw Fire type canine Pokemon muscle and that overconfident sexy little trainer in his boots and his one eyebrow with the slit in it, and nothing happens.

Because as soon as J.Seph sees the Arcanine, you hear a yelp and a muffled swear and the next thing you know, the sound of tires tearing away at a gritty dirt drive echoes against the gym's worn metal and concrete walls. You turn, grudgingly taking your gaze off the trainer before you, and watch as the car barrels away from the gym. If it had a tail, it would be between its legs.

"Oh," the boy says, sounding genuinely disappointed.

The Arcanine huffs out a breath, and you can feel the heat against your back dissipate as it moves away. You keep your eyes on the road outside until the car's tail lights disappear around the curve and into the darkness.

"Where are they?!"

You startle at the gruff shout, and whirl back around to see another boy (but as you see them in the right light, really take in their features, they're not quite boys. Young men, maybe, around your age, but not quite boys anymore) standing there, hands planted on his hips, chest heaving as though he's just run a mile.

"They left, Bin."

"The fuck, they did!" the newcomer says, impudent.

"They're gone."

"...We'll catch them."

As if on cue, an enormous round brown shape descends from somewhere above, landing beside this new trainer with a heavy thud that shakes up your already confused head.

"Put Primeape away," the first trainer says, wearily.

"Hell no. Lemme at 'em," the second demands.

"If you battle them here, it's a gym battle. If you battle them out there, it's assault."

"Look, I don't give two fat Rattata balls-"

"Um," you interrupt, and both of them look at you like they'd forgotten you were still there.

You, filthy, blood-splattered, aching head to toe now that the adrenaline is wearing off. Backpack hanging off one shoulder with one broken dangling strap, reeking of smoke and drying Pokemon acid, still clutching your poor squirming Oddish to your chest like someone's going to try and take her away.

You feel pathetic. You probably look pathetic.

"Oh, man," the second trainer says, "You look like shit."

You cringe to yourself. Or that.

The first trainer elbows him sharply. "Dude."

"It's true," he mutters. "C'mon, Primeape. No skulls to crush tonight, I guess. Fuckin' killjoy over here."

He saunters away, muttering to himself, his Primeape following with exactly the same amount of righteous indignation.

What the fuck is this place?

You want to ask, but you feel like that's a little rude, so instead, you give the Arcanine's trainer the fakest smile you've ever worn in your life, and force out a choked little laugh.

"Sorry for all that," you say.

"No problem. Really. If they did this” – he gestures vaguely at your general state of destruction – “to you, I kinda wish they'd stayed. Fucked around and found out, yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, "Sorry. Um. I'll - I think they're gone. I kind of panicked, but I should really be heading back to-"

"If they followed you all the way out here, I don't think it's a good idea to go back," he interrupts.

"Oh." You hadn't asked. "I have to. My work is there, I need to be at a tournament in the morning and-"

"Nonsense. You can stay here."

"I really couldn't-"

"I'm Chan, by the way," he adds, as if it's just occurred to him.

"(Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he repeats, a much softer grin on his face, now, showing you a deep dimple on one side, "You can stay here."

You're completely perplexed, far too exhausted to be dealing with...whatever this is.

"I told you, I have places to be, early. I can get my scooter fixed up and head out at dawn."

Chan hesitates, and then he amends, "Please stay here."

"Where even is here?" you ask.

"Our gym."

That much was obvious, but based on this guy's entire appearance, his dramatic fucking friend, and the way that he seemed to relish in being able to unveil his terrifying Pokemon to a potential opponent, you get the feeling that he isn't done. Theatrical. Chan seems theatrical.

And he doesn't disappoint.

"Lix?" he calls.

There's a deep, echoing shout from somewhere in the rafters. "On it."

A clang, a small electrical sputter, and light floods the gym from somewhere far above, illuminating the entire domed room. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the sheer scale of the place.

It's absolutely huge.

The pool you'd seen, the crag of rock up one side, those are just the first areas. The ones closest to you.

But the full extent of this gym...

It's laid out by terrain, a swath of waist-high grass and wildflowers, a thicket of evergreen trees, a snow-covered slope. On one side, a patch of desert with saguaro cactus and candelabra trees, and on the other, a waterfall under a torrent of artificial rain. Space to train every type you can think of, from Grass to Ghost, a mismatch of simulated environments just teeming with Pokemon.

A Blastoise, that Gyarados, a whole herd of Kangaskhan, what looks like the hulking form of a Snorlax in a corner, a flock of Pidgeys roosting on the umbrellas of a set of patio furniture - and those are just the Pokemon you can see from here.

There are wooden buildings and shipping containers turned on end with makeshift doors, sturdy tents and picnicking setups and rows upon rows upon rows of equipment.

And up over it all, accessible by a long winding ramp and behind just about the most impressive protective plate-glass bubble you've ever seen, a row of painted, numbered doors.

Apartments, you think wildly. Apartments, or at least rooms. People must live in here.

You tilt your head back to find the roof, but even that is covered up, a canopy of trees and an intricate system of catwalks obscuring the system that must provide the heat and the rain and the blinding lights that shine down on you now. It all seems much too big to fit inside the building that you approached on foot, not fifteen minutes ago.

Dazed, you wonder if it's enchanted. It would have to be, to fit the entire world behind a set of rusty metal doors.

There's a logo across every spare piece of wall, every stretch that isn't covered by vegetation or scaffolding, in the same scrawled handwriting, the same yellow paint. You try to make it out, but you don't really need to, because as you decipher the first letters, Chan tells you anyway.

"Welcome to District 9."

You can't even try to respond. It's too much to take in, too much to consider.

You've worked in more than your fair share of gyms and arenas since leaving home, and not a single one has been like this.

They're almost all specialized by type, only one or two types per gym, or they're clinically bare the way that a good tournament arena should be, so as to not give any one type of Pokemon an unfair advantage.

There's so much crammed inside this one gym, it nearly makes you dizzy. It's a work of art in its own busy way, and you can tell by his self-satisfied smirk that Chan is proud to have rendered you speechless. And that you are. You don't know where to look, what to watch, which Pokemon to admire, least of all what to say.

Oddish, on the other hand, seems to have no such concerns. She's been wriggling in your arms this whole time, and now, she gives one good jerk and gets away from you. Her little feet hit the ground running, and she makes a mad dash in the direction of the grass biome.

"Oh, damnit!" you yelp, tripping a step after her, "Don't-"

"Got it. Don't freak," comes that same deep voice from before, echoing around the high ceilings.

You don't have time to freak, because before you can react, Oddish is plucked right off the ground by a nimble taloned foot, and deposited right back into your arms with a shriek.

"Pidgeot, come on, buddy."

The gorgeous Flying Pokemon wheels around in midair, and as it passes across the scaffolding at the apex of the roof, a slight blue-topped figure leaps neatly to grasp it by the neck and hold on tightly for the ride, as it soars toward the back of the gym. You've definitely never seen someone do that before.

Chan's smile only gets bigger, as he watches you watching his fellow trainer riding on the back of his Pokemon.

"Felix is something special," he tells you.

"I'll say," you murmur.

"Everyone here is," he says, and if he was trying for modest, he doesn't make it.

You really can't argue with him, though. Everything you've seen so far is proving him right.

"So, you should stay here. And see what we're about. And battle us, maybe," Chan prods.

"I don't battle," you say automatically.

Chan's eyebrows, both the one with the slit and the one without, disappear under the messy orange fringe of his hair. "Really?"

You give him a terse smile and hug Oddish a little tighter. "You think she's much of a battler?"

"She could be," Chan says lightly, "Just give her a fair chance."

"I don't think so."

"At least stay the night," he says earnestly. "Minho makes a mean breakfast, and we can send you off in some clean clothes. Fix you up, maybe."

That doesn't sound too bad, though it does make you wonder how many guys live here, since you've met two so far and neither of them were named Minho. It's a spectacular gym, and you can't pretend that you don't want to explore a little more.

Going back to Azalea City tonight means risking another run-in with J.Seph on the road, and you're not confident that you'd survive another encounter.

And selfishly, you're tempted by the fact that these trainers are...cute. You've only met the one so far, sure, but these trainers. This trainer. Chan. This trainer, with his ridiculous attitude and his soft and distinctive good looks...he's cute.

You'd never tell him that, of course. Based on the bits you know about him so far, he would take that compliment and run with it, and you'd never get out of here. But that doesn't change the fact that you look at him, and you feel...

"Alright," you agree, finally.

"Alright!" he echoes with a whoop, full-body elated in a way that reminds you of his Arcanine.

"As long as I'm not imposing," you say.

"Of course not," he promises. "It's been a long time since we've had guests. The guys are gonna lose their shit."

----------

Chan does his best to convince you that Oddish will be safe out in the grasslands biome tonight, but you stick to your guns and put her away in her Pokeball before you follow him to the long, long, winding ramp that leads to those painted doors.

But once you step onto the thick plastic padding at the base of the ramp, it starts to move. A conveyor belt.

Interesting.

"We keep guest rooms for visiting trainers," he explains, as the conveyor hums and whirs gently along and ferries the two of you upwards. "There used to be more spare rooms but, well, we keep recruiting trainers. So there's only one left."

"Convenient."

Chan laughs, breathy and half-squashed. "Yeah. Well. It's been years since the last person joined up with us. So we do have the one."

"Not a lot of visitors out here, I'm guessing."

"We might have overestimated how many people are traveling, these days," Chan agrees. "Kinda overshot, thought maybe Compass Town would grow faster once that big stadium went up in Azalea. But people do come. You're here, aren't you?"

"Compass Town," you repeat. “That’s this town’s name?”

“Yup.”

"Wow. That's..."

"Stupid?" Chan offers.

"I was gonna say cute, but..."

"There was a big cartographer's headquarters here about a hundred years ago, and the name stuck," Chan grumbles. "It's stupid."

"It's quaint. I think it fits," you say.

"You're just being nice," he tells you.

You want to say that you're doing no such thing, that you'd never dream of it, but you've arrived at the line of doors on their reinforced landing.

"Thunderbolt, Earthquake, and HydroPump proof," Chan tells you, knocking on the plate glass. "Pokemon-tested. Custom build."

"Expensive?"

"You have no idea."

The first eight doors, numbered one through eight, are all decorated. They have little pictures of Pokemon, doodles of flowers and stick figures and little insults written in marker. The last one is plain yellow paint, the same color as the graffiti all over the dome, and it's that door marked number 9 where Chan stops.

"This one's yours, for the night."

You're apprehensive, despite the generosity. "Okay."

He's very nice, but this is still a strange Pokemon gym full of strange boys. Anything in the world could be behind this door, and you're suspecting very strongly that the first thing you're going to see is a disappointing mess.

Of course, like you've been at every turn tonight, you're absolutely wrong.

The first thing you see is a Pokemon. And it speaks to you.

"Mr. Mime!"

Chan immediately slaps a hand over his eyes. You glance at him. The tips of his ears have flamed red against his orange hair.

"I thought I told you not to do this," he mutters.

You choke. "Excuse me?"

He points at the Pokemon. "I told you not to go fucking creeping around people's rooms."

"Mime."

"No! Last time you went into Seungmin's room without permission, he nearly killed you. And I literally can't handle that again."

"Mime."

"Oh my God, just get out. Out. Get out now."

You watch, openmouthed, as Chan manhandles the pink human-sized Pokemon out of the spare room and onto the landing.

"What was he doing in there?" you ask, afraid of the answer.

"Cleaning!" Chan explodes. "He cleans, like, compulsively, even though he cleaned the spare room yesterday and it's been spotless since then, by virtue of no one living there!"

"That's handy," you say.

"No! It's not! He gets all up in my shit and he-" Chan cuts himself off, which is a relief, because you have had a very long, hard day, and there is a Mr. Mime staring at you. "Just...come on."

The room is spotless, as promised. And it's luxurious to the point of being a little bit ridiculous.

You were right to guess that it was more apartment than room, with a kitchenette and a dining nook opening into a tiny living room, a bedroom set off to one side and a bathroom to the other. The furniture is nicer than you expected, set on gleaming wood floors and fresh wallpaper.

"Wow."

"We do live here," Chan says.

You shrug, taking in the gleaming appliances and the faint smell of lemon in the air. "Still. It's a Pokemon gym."

"Nah. It's our home."

Even he seems to realize how cheesy that one was, and he grimaces.

"Sorry. I'll let you shower and sleep and stuff. The door locks from the inside, so just. Y'know. Lock up unless you want Mr. Mime back in here."

And with that, Chan closes the door behind himself, and you're left alone.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What are you doing here?

----------

You wake up late the next morning.

Like, late. Like, holy-fuck-I-can't-believe-I-slept-that-long late. Like, it's ten past noon late.

The innocent white numbers on the digital clock by your bedside make your stomach sink. You were supposed to meet Ryujin to prep for her bracket at eleven, just like you had done yesterday and the day before. You missed it completely. You're sure that she's blowing up your phone, but that thing is stashed somewhere in your backpack, which is still broken and mud-splattered, sitting on a chair in the living room.

Nobody woke you, but of course they didn't. You're a stranger spending the night in their spare room, it's not like you gave them any indication that you have somewhere to be today or permission to bust in and do a wake-up call.

It's a bit of a shock to open your eyes and see this room, too. Not because you're somewhere new - you travel so much that it's second nature to wake up in a new rental, a new hotel, on a new client's couch where you've crashed - but because it's comfortable. You wake up in a soft bed with nice sheets, in a room that smells faintly of lemon furniture polish and some kind of flower. You don't do that very often.

Ah, well. There's not much you can do, now. The tournament is about to start. You already missed the meeting that you’re supposed to be paid to attend, and you’re bound to miss a lot of the battle bracket even if you leave right now and head back to the city.

The day is already ruined. You might as well stick around here. You were promised breakfast.

Yawning and creaking, you drag yourself out of bed and over to one of the sturdy wooden wardrobes that crowd the small bedroom. Chan also mentioned some fresh clothes, last night, and you intend to have him make good on that, too.

You'd showered last night out of sheer necessity, but you decide to indulge again, for good measure. Start the day feeling fresh and all that.

But first, you open the wardrobe.

It's stuffed full of clothes. All different kinds, different sizes and silhouettes, like someone had gone to a thrift store and just started dumping racks of clothes into their cart at random. You wonder if someone did, and if that someone was Chan's Mr. Mime.

There are enough things that you like (and in roughly your size) to piece together a clean outfit to wear, and you're slightly relieved to find that even the clothes smell crisply of fabric softener and mothballs. They must run a pretty tight ship, here.

One shower and one change of clothes later, and you're heading out of the bedroom and back into the heart of the gym. On a whim, you slide your minimized Pokeballs out of the pocket of your ruined bag, and slip them into your pocket. Just in case.

The first thing you register is the music.

Someone's playing music, something jazzy and low but loud enough that it rolls over the spans of the gym and echoes pleasantly up to the landing. You peer down, and there are the other trainers. In the middle of a clearing in the grasslands area, settled in the picnic spot you'd seen last night, spread across a few wooden tables and blankets in the grass. Quite a few people in colorful outfits, and a metric shit-ton of Pokemon.

"Hey, she's awake!" comes a shout, from below. "C'mon, Minho's got pancakes on!"

"Coming!" you call back.

The ride back down the escalator to the ground level of the gym is nerve-wracking, to say the least. You're still not certain exactly how many people are here, how many of them saw the wreck that you were last night, what they're going to think of you now.

It's not like you're some hapless newbie trainer who can't handle a little trouble on the road. You're not a trainer at all, really. You're a healer who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They can't hold that against you.

"Good morning!" Chan calls, as you struggle through the tall grass and emerge at the clearing. "Well, kinda."

"Morning," you answer.

Eight. There are eight.

Eight boys, including Chan and the two you met briefly last night. You're fascinated and just the tiniest bit intimidated, as you glance them over.

"I think an introduction is in order," Chan says.

He's holding a cup full of something marigold-colored, and he gestures with it as he stands up and comes to linger beside you.

"This is (Y/N)," he says. "She's the trainer who came in last night. Some bitch-ass wannabe rogues chased her out here and didn't even stay to fight it out like real trainers."

"Lame," says one of the boys solemnly.

"That's what I said!" Chan agrees.

"Woulda pulverized 'em," mumbles another boy, one you recognize from last night - the Primeape trainer.

"So. Yeah. Be chill," Chan instructs.

And with that, he hands you the cup of yellow drink, and meanders away to collapse leisurely onto his back in the grass. You take a curious sip, and immediately you understand a lot more about these guys.

It's a mimosa, and a very very strong one. There is most definitely something stronger than champagne in there, but you're so happy to have something to take the edge off that you gulp it down gratefully.

"Whoa. He said to be chill," comments the same boy from before, and you glance at him over the rim of your glass.

He's got glossy brown hair and pretty, rounded features, a strong face on a slight build. There aren't any Pokemon around him, but he's got a donut in one hand and a Pokeball in the other. Still drinking, you take a few steps closer to him where he sits at a picnic table.

You grin at him, cup now empty. "I am chill."

"I'm Jisung," he replies.

"Pleasure."

Jisung toasts you with his donut. "Glad you didn't die."

"You've got a nasty shiner, though, shit," says the Primeape trainer, wandering over to join you, one graceful finger pointing at your face.

Self-conscious in the strangest way, you reach up to touch the tender place on your cheekbone. You do have a pretty deep bruise there, a lasting souvenir from crashing your scooter last night.

"It's alright," you say sheepishly, "It doesn't hurt. I...didn't catch your name, sorry...?"

"Changbin."

"Changbin. Well, thanks for offering to go after those guys last night," you say.

He grins. "Duh."

"Really means a lot."

You're laying it on thick, teasing, and he can obviously tell by the way his eyes crinkle up with laughter.

"Anytime," he says, "Now, if you'll excuse me, Machop is trying to drink my fuckin' mimosa, shit-"

He darts away, toward another table, just in time to rip an enormous paper umbrella-topped glass away from the little blue Fighting type. The Pokemon reaches desperately for the confiscated glass with its little humanlike hands, and you can hear every single swear dropped in Changbin's terse tone as he scolds it.

"Like father, like son," says Jisung sagely, through a mouthful of donut.

"So he trains Fighting," you say.

Jisung nods. "'N I'm Water. Mostly."

"What about the others?"

"Go find out."

Unhelpful. You like these two guys just fine; you really don't want to mingle any more. But the mimosa is just making your empty stomach rumble, so you figure it's about time to get your hands on some of that promised breakfast.

There's another boy, this one with dark hair and a handsome, chiseled face with interesting downturned lips, manning a portable gas stovetop set on one of the tables. Beside him, there's a small, precarious stack of pancakes on a platter, and an assortment of empty plates and mismatched cups. Bingo.

He glances up as you approach, busy with a spatula and one expert hand on the grip of the frying pan. "Hungry?"

"Starving," you admit.

"Eat up, then, before these pigs beat you to it," he says. "C'mon, I'll give you the fresh ones."

"Thanks, uh..."

"Minho."

"Minho...right, yeah. A mean breakfast," you remember, with a grin.

"Damn right."

You walk around the table to do just that, but luckily, you spot something moving along in the ground in your peripherals, and you look down just in time to avoid stepping on something sleek and furry.

Curled as best as it can around his ankles, almost comically too big to do it properly, is a fully-grown Persian, and it curls back its lips and hisses lazily at your near miss.

"Oh my God!" You stumble around the Pokemon, which just blinks up at you, unimpressed and sleepy.

"Oh, sorry. Persian's loyal," Minho says, sounding absolutely unapologetic.

You just nod, taking a clean plate from the stack next to the stovetop and letting Minho slide a few steaming pancakes onto it for you. They smell delicious, and your stomach is gnawing at the idea of a hot, home-cooked meal for the first time in a long time.

"There's more stuff on the other tables. But I didn't cook most of that, so watch yourself," he tells you.

You can't help but crack another smile at his no-nonsense shit talk. "Thanks."

He graces you with a smirk, and you turn away, satisfied, to find somewhere to eat.

Jisung is at one table, Changbin at another, and at yet another are three boys crammed together on one bench. As you stare, you recognize one of them: the blue-haired Pidgeot trainer from last night, the one who can apparently ride his Pokemon like hang gliders. You can't help your curiosity. You need to meet that one.

So that's where you go next.

"Mind if I sit?" you ask.

"Sure," says the guy on the end nearest you, this one boyishly handsome with streaks of pale silver in his dark hair, "But not there."

He points at one end of the empty bench. You look at the space. You look back at him.

"Why?" you ask, wary.

"Just. Sit on the other end."

He's grinning at you, and it's a grin that spells trouble, so you do as he says and sit on the far end of the bench. His request puts you across from the other boy you haven't met yet, this one with fiery red hair that falls elegantly around his cheekbones and brushes the tops of his skinny shoulders as he scribbles on a leaf of paper. They paint quite a picture, the three of them squished together in one seat.

"Oh - hey, is there cutlery somewhere?" you ask, looking down at your pancakes in dismay.

No way you're wandering around more to find them.

"Yeah," the boy tells you, still grinning, "Right there."

Something pokes at your arm, and you glance down to see a fork and knife helpfully offered at the crook of your elbow.

Suspended in midair.

You shriek. "What-"

"Gaaastly."

It's the tiniest whisper, but it reassures you enough that you snatch the cutlery up and will your cheeks to stop burning quite so badly. A Ghost type Pokemon.

"Seungmin!" the blue-haired one scolds.

"Sorry!" says Seungmin, insincere, stifling a laugh into his hand. "I didn't want her to sit on Gastly!"

"You suck."

As if to defend its trainer, the Gastly becomes tangible, just a floating purplish cloud beside you with a ghoulish little face that leers at you smugly. It floats over to hover just above Seungmin's shoulder, and the satisfied trainer feeds it a piece of muffin from his plate.

"How does it eat if it's a Ghost?" you ask.

"Some things are better left a mystery," the blue-haired one assures you. "Hi. I'm Felix."

You remember Chan saying his name once or twice last night. You smile at him.

"I have about a million questions for you," you tell him.

"We'll have time for that," he says. "For now, you should eat."

He's right. You're still starving.

So you dig into your breakfast, which is so delicious that you wonder how you lived this long without eating Minho's cooking. It's easy enough to make conversation with Felix and Seungmin (who is delightfully clever and interesting, despite his mischievous first impression) and with the quiet red-haired one who introduces himself as Hyunjin before returning to his sketching.

Time passes without you even noticing, and your plate, though shored up with fruit and a donut and a pile of whipped cream, empties before long. Your glass is refilled several times, though, and you're tipsy and content when the boys finally slide off the bench to join Chan, and the last boy you haven't met yet, where they lay in the short grass of the clearing.

Everyone is on the ground, now.

You like being on the ground. Something in your mimosa-tipsy brain feels better when you're touching the dirt. It makes you want to let your Pokemon out, but you still don't trust Oddish not to run for it, and Oddish is your best-behaved one.

"Oh, yeah," says Chan suddenly, rolling onto his stomach to look at you, where you're sitting cross-legged. "This is Jeongin."

The last boy, cute with big doe eyes, gives you a smile and a wave. He has a gorgeous Vulpix curled up in his lap, the Fire type Pokemon dozing against the shocking blue fabric of his pants.

"And that's everyone," Chan says.

You wonder if he's been counting, as you slowly met all of his friends.

Felix taps you gently on the shoulder, his long-lashed eyes half-closed as he asks, "Is that Oddish your only Pokemon?"

"You have an Oddish?" Hyunjin asks, interested in you for what seems like the first time today. "Cute."

"No, she's not. I have a full set," you say.

"A full six, and you don't battle?" Chan asks.

"Nope."

"Can we see?" asks Changbin.

"Can I see all of yours?" you rebut.

Changbin shrugs as best he can while lying on his back. "All our Pokemon are out here somewhere, 'cept the ones that like being in the Pokeballs better."

"You just let them free-roam? In the gym?"

You do the same with yours, sometimes, but it's wild to think that these Pokemon are allowed to be out all the time unless they're traveling or something. It's almost like they're not tamed at all, except that they seem to be perfectly trained.

"Sure," Chan nods, "No reason to put them away unless they wanna go."

"Show us," Felix urges, a pretty smile lighting up his freckled face.

It's been a while since you've let some of your Pokemon out, you have to admit. You pull the handful of Pokeballs out of your pocket, and they return to full size as you gather them in your lap.

"Oddish, please be good," you say, and you release her.

Your poor Oddish doesn't run this time, thank goodness. She just cowers behind you, shy in the face of so many strangers, and you can feel her quivering leaves as she settles in. Hyunjin leans toward her, shiny eyes, but she just quivers harder.

You select the next Pokeball at random, and open it.

"Aw!"

It's Felix's turn to coo, as he gazes at your extremely confused Bellsprout. This Pokemon does try to run, and you hastily return it to the Pokeball before it can disappear into the tall grass.

Next is your Kakuna, which the guys murmur over appreciatively, and then your patience runs out.

"I really don't feel like chasing all my Pokemon around," you say.

You also don't feel like showing these strangers every trick up your sleeve. Kakuna is nowhere near ready to evolve, and your two Grass types are still in their first evolutions, so they're not very impressive unless you're looking for the cutest Pokemon in the room. These aren't your battling choices, anyway. If you had to battle.

There's always a chance you'll have to battle one of these guys before they let you leave. You can't get that idea out of your head. No gym leader in the world lets a visitor leave without at least trying to coax them into battle.

No point in showing your hand too early.

You hold one of your Pokeballs in your hand, habitually spinning it between your fingers. Your first Pokeball, holding the Pokemon that your mother bought you all those years ago. It never leaves your side, more valuable than your Kakuna that you lovingly raised from a Weedle or the Oddish that likes to walk beside you like it's ten feet tall rather than ten inches.

If they knew you had this, alongside all of your cute little Grass Pokemon, they would definitely want to battle. Just on principle. Just to see what you're made of.

But as it is, Chan just nods. "Makes sense. There's a lot going on in here, yeah? Don't wanna scare them."

"Exactly," you agree.

"I have a question," says Jisung.

He's cuddling with an Abra that you're almost certain isn't his Pokemon, considering he said he trains Water, but both he and the Abra looks so happy that you can't find it in you to complain.

"Shoot."

"Why were those guys after you?"

"That..." you say, "Is a very good question."

"Do you not know?" Minho asks.

"I mean, I could guess."

"Sounds like you don't know."

"Sorry, I didn't think I would be mimosa drunk at some hack gym talking about my attempted murder, today," you say dryly.

Minho cracks what you think is the first real smile he's shown you. "Point taken. Sorry."

But despite your reservations, you have no reason to be too much of a jerk. They can hear the story, if that's what they want.

"I'm a Pokemon healer," you say, deciding to start with the most basic truth.

To your surprise, Chan sits bolt upright, looking soberer than he has all day. "Really?"

"Yeah. That's my trade, my day job. I'm a traveling healer," you nod.

Chan's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place, but it looks...appraising. You're not sure you like it.

"I was at a match with my client in Azalea City, and long story short, I guess I was too good at battling for someone who wasn't the trainer in the battle," you say. "I helped her beat someone, and then his teammates came after me. That's really it."

"That's it?" Changbin echoes, "Then how come you look like you walked through an Ekans nest?"

"It was an Arbok," you quip.

"What, did you jump in front of an attack or some shit?" Seungmin asks, "Because that's stupid."

You're not sure why it's so uncomfortable to admit the truth. You reach around and pull Oddish into your lap, and the Pokemon leans its little stem against you, a grounding weight that makes you feel oddly better.

"No," you say slowly, "No, they...they set the Arbok on me."

"On you?" Chan repeats.

"I mean. Yeah."

"They ordered the Arbok to attack you, and it did?"

"Yeah, okay, yes, it used Acid Spray on me," you say.

"Damn. And you’re alright?" Changbin eyes you with a new weight, something like admiration in his face. "You're tough."

"Why would they come after you so hard, though?" Jisung wonders. "If all you did was win."

You shrug. "I've been roughed up before by sore losers."

"Really?" asks Felix, looking unsettled.

"Rich people pay a lot for Pokemon teams that win. If someone they're not expecting shows up and ruins it, they get pissed," you say. "So as soon as this team seemed to catch on, I was out of there."

"And they used their Pokemon on you," Chan says, again, seemingly fixated.

“To be fair, I had to use my Pokemon back."

Seungmin perks up at this. "Did you, for real?"

You fidget. "I dropped Oddish and she got out and Sleep Powdered them. So, technically, yeah."

Minho hums. “Still a shitty move on their part. Imagine forcing a Pokemon to do that.”

The boys fall quiet for a moment, something that you think is probably rare. It’s quiet enough that you can hear the little noises from the Pokemon around you, and the distant sounds of the dozens of others scattered around the gym. There’s something comforting about it.

"I got Acid Sprayed once. Training with a Tentacool," Jisung volunteers, after a while. "It sucked. Big time."

"So…this team...not just, like, one person, but a whole team...are okay using Pokemon against people?" Chan clarifies, again, brow furrowed and jaw working.

“Yeah, like I told you. The Arbok, and they had others ready, too.”

To be fair, you were equally as aghast when it was happening. But his incredulousness isn't helping you now, and you kind of wish he would let it go. It was scary. It was painful beyond belief. And with any luck, it's not something you'll have to deal with again.

You've just never been the lucky type.

#pokemon au 😈#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kpop fanfic #kard fanfic #bang chan fanfic

11 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark. And hoo boy, did I run with that. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness. Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having. Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide.

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head. It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in. He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like. He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head. “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy. He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class. But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe? I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted. Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully. “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately. She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50? He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers. You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself. If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop. He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything. “I… we have comp together? You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up. “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop. “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?”

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him. “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--”

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work. “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least. Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit. “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned. “Like basic functions on matrices! Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices. If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed. You hadn’t really meant it literally.

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged. It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math. You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once. He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked. And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before. This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator. This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop. He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace. Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears. A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right? Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going? It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down. God, he was strong. He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular. You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit. Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly. It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really. You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way! It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming. You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point. But at this point, it was unstoppable. You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet. Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs. But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell. Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds. You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore. Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more. You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black. “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire. “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open. It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls. You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you? You love my cock,” he growled. His voice was lower, gravelly. He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn. “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience. You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it. But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal. God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess. Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly. “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh? You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that? You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell. Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You asked me to fuck you. Begged me. Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words. You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed. “But, maybe you’re not playing. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could. “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet. Isn’t that right? You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before. Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs. Your toes went numb. You didn’t even know that could happen. And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.” You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to. You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you. For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before. It was comforting, but you were still a little confused. “Really?”

He laughed softly. “Did you not notice? God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky. You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math. Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now? Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table. He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification. You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow. It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow. No assignments due today, either. And what was with the row/seat thing? Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification. It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message. “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name. You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned. Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him? How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation. Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pictures now? I did what you asked. I won’t tell anyone. just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick. You had no idea what this meant but it scared you. You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense. You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie. But she wasn’t alone. She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was. You realized why now. She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade. You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material. It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it. You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there. But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages. Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14. 45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera. PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8. 12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups. ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5. 6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror. PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2. 14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop. It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13. 1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently. Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin. “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work. “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend. What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything. They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it. Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged. “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific. You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl. You even had pretty good security, I respect that. Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop. It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it. Including yourself.”

You shivered. “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself. And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job. You watch some interesting stuff. And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please. This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little. “You look better in person though. A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what? I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised. “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick. But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you. Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders. Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation. Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button. He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are. Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #dark!peter parker #dom peter parker x sub reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x sub reader #spiderman x reader #night monkey x reader #lmao #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #sabs dream fic challenge

3K notes · View notes

mxbeezkneez · 4 years ago

Text

Graveyard Companions

Chapter 2: i'm coming back from the dead, and i'll take you home with me

Link to ao3: x

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injury, Cursing

Fandoms: The Addams Family

Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams/Reader, Gomez Addams/Reader, Morticia Addams/Reader

Tags: Vampire, Vampire Turning, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Blood, Polyamory, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationship, Pre Relationship, Cursing

Summery: “I’m a vampire… a goddamn vampire,” you whisper.You wake up in the living room of a gothic house, and are told you were found unconscious in a graveyard. They claim you are a vampire. As crazy as it is, you can't help but start to trust the couple who found you.

Chapter notes: hi i'm back! i started thinking about the addams family, and well my interest in vampires didn't rlly diminish much... this chapter's pretty long, so i hope you enjoy! i apologize if my french or spanish is bad, i don't speak french, and i only speak a bit of spanish! i actually have like a whole plot n stuff planned, so i'm pretty hyped for this fic! hope u like it! :) (the title is from it's not a fashion statement, it's a fucking death wish by my chemical romance)

You wake up to a loud bang, bolting straight up out of bed. “What the hell?”

You rub your eyes before slipping out of bed. The night before feels very far away, almost unreal, but being in this room confirms your memories. You’re staying in the Addams’ house and are… a vampire. You take a slow breath before grabbing new clothing. You find a pair of black pants to match a dark sweater. While near the dresser, you look out of the room’s window. It’s dark outside, the sky a navy blue sprinkled with stars. The graveyard behind the house is illuminated by the moon shining over it.

You leave your room, deciding to try and find the living room once again. You wander through the halls before finding it. Inside you find Wednesday, the small girl, playing with a younger blond boy. She’s talking to him while holding a headless doll in her arms. You walk farther into the room, stepping on a squeaky board, alerting the children of your presence.

They both turn their heads to stare at you. You nervously chuckle.

Wednesday points at you, “That’s (y/n),” she tells the boy, “I heard father say they’re a vampire.”

“Wow really?” the boy exclaims, “Is it true? Do you drink blood?”

“Um,” you stammer, “Well, I am a vampire, but I haven’t been one very long so- no I haven’t drank any blood. Uh… what’s your name again?”

“I’m Pugsley,” he reaches over and offers his hand.

You shake it, “Well, nice to meet you Pugsley. What are you guys up to?”

“We’re playing the French Revolution,” Wednesday answers flatly.

You chuckle, “Huh. I mean I guess it was an exciting time. Who’s your doll there?” you point to the headless doll in her hands. To be honest, the beheaded doll was very unnerving, but the children themselves seemed nice enough, so you push your nerves to the side.

“Marie Antoinette” she says matter of factly.

“Oh,” you pause, “Explains the lack of head I guess.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to exit the conversation. “Do either of you know where your parents are?” you ask.

“I saw them in the dining room earlier. Uncle Fester was there, but I think he went upstairs to play with his dynomite caps,” Pugsley replies. Uncle Fester? Dynomite caps? There’s too much to unpack there, so instead you decide to find Gomez and Morticia.

“Okay, thanks.”

You head out the door, realizing you have no idea where the dining room is. You go to turn back, but the children are playing animatedly and you don’t want to interrupt, so instead you look for it yourself.

You find the dining room, and sure enough, Gomez and Mortica are seated next to each other at a long table. You walk over and take a seat near them.

“(Y/n)! How’d you sleep?” Gomez greets you.

“Like the dead,” you say flatly. A second later what you’ve said hits you and you blink slowly, “I mean, I slept well, thanks.”

“You did seem rather tired last night,” Morticia remarks, “I’m glad you got some rest.”

“Wait, did I sleep through an entire day?” you ask.

“Yes, though we did tell Lurch not to disturb you,” she answers, “We thought you needed the sleep. How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” you take a moment to survey yourself, “I feel okay. I think if anything I feel a little hungry.”

“We can get that squared away! Mama makes the best yak stew.” Gomez springs from his chair and over to a rope hanging from the ceiling. Remembering last night, you brace for a loud noise. Sure enough, once he pulls it, the house shakes as the ringing travels through the house.

“You rang,” Lurch grumbles.

“Yes Lurch, a bowl of yak stew for our guest!” Lurch groans and exits.

“Thank you,” you tell them, “You’ve both been very hospitable, I’m thankful you were the ones that found me.” You feel sincerity in that statement, you were not only grateful for their help, but another part of you has some feeling when you’re near them. You’re not sure what the feeling is, though you can confidently say you didn’t mind the couple, or hell, the weird household in general. Even if it is kooky, you can’t say you’re not charmed by their life.

Lurch comes back with a silver platter that he sets on the table. On it is a bowl of stew that he places in front of you.

“Thanks,” you say, before grabbing the spoon and looking back at the meal. Lurch takes his leave. You’re unsure about eating yak, but you are also hungry and the stew looks fairly appetizing. You take a scoop and put it in your mouth, surprised not only by the flavor of the soup, but also the feeling of chewing. It’s like you can feel your canines rip through the meat faster than before. In the time where you’ve been thinking, it’s completely slipped your mind that you probably have fangs now. That you’ve changed.

“This is- this is actually really good,” you remark.

“I told you, Mama is a culinary genius! Nothing beats her yak stew!” Gomez gleams.

You smile at Gomez. Something about him just makes you want to smile in a soft admission of admiration.

You turn your attention back to the stew, eating it quickly until there is nothing left.

“I’m glad you enjoyed Mama’s cooking,” Morticia smiles, “I’ll have to tell her you enjoyed it. It’s not very often she gets to feed guests.”

“It is very odd, usually most people never come back after eating her food… I can’t imagine why…” Gomez says with a puzzled expression on his face. You chuckle. You notice that you find yourself enjoying the Addams’ company immensely. A part of you feels sad that you will eventually have to leave.

“Ah, c'est la vie (that’s life) ,” Morticia remarks.

“Tish!” Gomez’s head swivels quickly to face her, “That’s French!” he exclaims, grabbing her arm. He begins to kiss it, from her hand to her shoulder, though is interrupted by Morticia, “Darling. We have company. Later,” she says with a sly grin. Gomez raises his head to meet her eyes, a dazed look on his face. “Later.” he remarks, before finding himself back in his seat, “So, Hester, any plans for the night?” he asks casually.

“Um…” you stutter, flustered by the show of passion from the man sitting across from you, “I- I don’t really know… I mean, I’m a vampire now so- does that mean I have to act like one too? I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t really know what to do,” you admit, staring at your hands. You look up towards Morticia, “Didn’t you mention you’ve known vampires before? Could you maybe help me?”

“Of course, darling.” Morticia says, “Why don’t we talk in the living room? If you’re alright with it, the children would enjoy listening, they are curious creatures.”

“Yeah, that’s alright. They asked me a question or two when I ran into them earlier. I don’t blame them for being curious,”

“Pugsley’s been very interested in nonhuman creatures lately, ever since that run in with that werewolf he’s been wanting to know more. Wednesday’s been teaching him some things, she’s always had a firm grasp on certain folklore!” Gomez said proudly.

The three of you walked to the living room and sat down, them on the couch, and you in a chair facing them. The children were still in the room, sitting on the floor. You fidget with your hands nervously. “So, do I have superpowers or anything now?” you half-heartedly joke.

“Vampires have very fast healing capabilities,” Wednesday states, “They are very difficult to kill, they must be stabbed with a stake to the heart or decapitated.”

“Very good Wednesday,” Morticia smiles.

“Huh,” you respond, “Alright, that’s not too bad.”

“There are certain weaknesses that should be mentioned, such as sunlight, garlic, crucifixes and running water.” Morticia adds.

“Wait I can’t eat garlic anymore?” you ask, “That kinda sucks, huh.”

“Well technically you can eat anything if you try hard enough,” Gomez says offhandedly.

Morticia cocks an eyebrow at him and sighs, “It’s not so much deadly, it’s more like a food allergy.”

“So I can still eat things with garlic in it?” you double check.

“As long as you aren’t a coward!” Gomez says enthusiastically.

You let out a laugh at Gomez. Wednesday is rolling her eyes, though Morticia just keeps looking at him lovingly. For a moment you forget about the obvious question hanging in the air.

“So…” you start, “I have to drink blood now?” you ask nervously.

“Yes, all vampires must ingest blood to keep themselves alive,” Morticia says, “You’ve got to be hungry by now I imagine,”

“Yeah… but I just ate.” you reply.

“You can still eat food, it just will never fill you. In order not to starve you have to drink blood.” she explains.

You look down at your shaking hands. Everything before now had felt unreal, but this? The seriousness in her voice is making everything too real for you. How could you possibly do that to someone?

“I- I don’t know if I can do that…” you voice shakes, “I mean- how… how could I?”

“Children,” Morticia addresses them, “Why don’t you go play with Uncle Fester while we talk with Hester.”

“Awwww, do we have to?” Pugsley complains.

“A vampire’s eating habits are quite personal Pugsley. I’m afraid so.”

“Alright,” he sighs and follows Wednesday out of the room.

“If you need help procuring someone, you just have to ask. Gomez and I would of course be willing to provide.”

“Provide…?”

“Bodies of course.” Gomez affirms.

“Human bodies,” you repeat, your mind reeling. You had noticed the family was quite odd, even creepy at times, but what they were offering? It sounded too close to murder. You suddenly become very aware of where you are: in a strange house with strangers. Your hands become clammy.

“Is everything alright darling?” you hear Morticia ask. Your throat swells up. You try to force words out, but nothing will leave you lips, leaving you in what is now panic. Finally something spills out, “You can’t kill people for me! You- you can’t!” you sputter out.

“Kill people?” Gomez repeats, “Why we’d bring them alive of course.”

You let out a breath, “Okay, alive. I mean- I just still don’t think I can…”

“Well I suppose there is another option,” Gomez adds.

“What? What is it?” you ask, hopeful.

“Animal blood! It doesn’t work as well, but it’ll do in a pinch.” he explains.

You perk up, “I can do that. That works.” you feel relief.

“Should we make some arrangements? The children could fetch some for tonight.” Morticia asks.

“You have been so kind, really. I would appreciate it, at least for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll work on leaving, I’ve been here long enough.”

“It’s been our pleasure,” Gomez responds, lighting a cigar, “It’s been so long since we’ve had guests.

“Well you certainly are great hosts,” you smile. Despite your situation, you’ve found yourself fairly comfortable here.

“Thank you,” Morticia says, “Now, we ought to ring for Lurch to get some blood. I’m sure the children would love to accompany him.” As she reaches for the bell, you ready yourself for the loud ring. Lurch walks in, “You rang?”

“Yes Lurch, could you gather the children and find some animal blood for our guest here?”

“Yes, Mrs. Addams,” he drawls. He leaves the room in search of the children. A quiet silence falls over the room. Deciding to strike up conversation, you pipe up a question, “So, when did you two meet?”

“Oh, on the best day of my life,” Gomez grins proudly,

“We met at a funeral,” Mortica explains, “It was a lovely day. Grey clouds filled the sky, thunder rolling in the distance.”

“Oh cara mia, I remember it like it was yesterday, our eyes meeting over the coffin,” Gomez starts, “I swear the whole funeral party had to be half as enchanted with you as I had been.” You notice the two of them becoming more enveloped in their memories of each other. You can’t help but smile at how truly in love they are, even if that love meant that you would sit there awkwardly wondering if they were going to just make out in front of you.

“Oh mon cher, you are as charming as you were back then.”

Gomez’s eyes dart up, “Tish! That’s French!” He grabs her arm and starts kissing it.

“Gomez darling,” she warns, “Later.”

He looks up dazed, “Oh yes, our guest. Where were we?” he asks.

“I think you’ve answered my question,” you smile awkwardly.

“Do you have anyone special back home?” Morticia asks politely.

“Well…” you begin to explain“There is this one guy, my roomate, I guess… but I don’t think he likes me like that.” you explain.

“Tiene que estar loco si no le gusta, eres muy guapo. (He must be crazy if he doesn’t like you, you are very handsome.) ” Gomez comments under his breath. You feel your face heat up. He must not know you speak Spanish, judging by how offhandedly he said it. You look over to Morticia who nods ever so slightly, making you even more flustered.

“Uh… gracias, pero… sabes que hablo Español, sí? (Uh… thank you, but… you know I can speak Spanish, yes?) ” you ask. Gomez’s hand, which was placed on Morticia’s knee, now grips it somewhat tightly. Morticia looks over to him in curiosity. His face seems flushed.

“¿Comprendes lo que yo digo? (You understand what I’m saying?) ” he asks tentatively.

“Sí, aprendí a hablar en Español en la escuela. (Yes, I learned to speak in Spanish in school.) ”

“Oh,” a breath leaves his mouth. His eyes keep darting back and forth like he doesn’t know what to do. You can tell his weight has registered onto the balls of his chair like he is about to leap off his seat, but something is keeping him grounded. You look back at Morticia, who seems about as intrigued as you. A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone sat on edge.

Breaking the awkward scene, Lurch walks in with heavy footsteps holding a platter, “Your blood.”

He sets the platter down on the table, removing the lid. On the platter is a wine glass with a dark red liquid in it. As soon as you see the glass you can smell it, the blood. Rather than smelling rancid, the metallic scent smelled like everything you could ever want. You quickly grab the glass with both hands and hold it up to your lips, gulping down the liquid. The taste of it floods your mouth, though some of it dribbles down to your chin as you frantically consume it. You drink the last drop and set down the glass, looking up.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath. You wipe off your chin with the back of your sleeve. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s quite alright,” Morticia affirms, “You’ve just been turned, I’m surprised you’ve gone this long without blood… well I guess there was last night.” You wince at the mention of that encounter. Trying to change the subject, you ask, “What happens if I can’t get blood?”

“Well, either you go to any length to get it out of pure hunger, or if you don’t, you die,” Morticia explains, “So it’s best you feed regularly.”

“So is that why I…” you try to think of a way to phrase it, “Why I don’t feel much restraint when I see blood?”

“Yes, though you’ll get more constraint as it goes on.”

“Oh, okay. By the way, I’m not keeping you up, am I? It has to be pretty late. I mean, I guess I’m already a night owl, so this isn’t too unusual for me, but you two probably should sleep, right?” you ask.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to get some sleep. Perhaps tomorrow if you plan on leaving, we can help you get back?” she asks.

“Yeah, that’d be great. And of course, go get some sleep. I’ll just hang out for a bit.” you say, putting on a small smile.

“Alright, good night then,” Mortica says.

“Goodnight Hester.” Gomez says.

“Goodnight.”

You stay in the living room much longer after they leave, lost in your thoughts. The weight of your new life- or death has started to sink in. Your mind drifts to drinking the blood earlier. The feeling of it had been great, though immediately after your chest felt heavy. You don’t suppose it has anything to do with your newfound changes. No, instead you recognize the feeling as the weight of your guilt.

You can’t help but wonder what kind of creature feeds off the life force of others. You try to reason with yourself by saying it’s like eating animals, yet you can’t accept the notion. This had felt different. Looking back to having Morticia’s blood makes your face flush, but you can’t also help but notice the difference from tonight. While the animal blood was good, and mostly filling, Morticia’s blood, human blood, brought a type of euphoria.

You didn’t need Morticia to spell it out for you. Using animal blood works as a substitute, but you know deep down you are now meant to feed on humans. The realization hits you as you think that. You are no longer human. On this thought your heart aches. What does this make you. Confused? Scared? Yes, those both applied. You feel lost.

You feel anxious thinking about going home tomorrow. Going home means it’s real. It means you have to face your roommate who you’re in love with and somehow not let him know you’re a vampire. You let out a huff. God, how are you supposed to do this? You take a small amount of solace knowing you have the Addam’s help. You’re glad they’ll help you get back home, you don’t think you could do it alone. You know even if you never speak to them again, their impact will be left on you forever.

You get up off the couch, deciding to go to sleep. You trudge to your room and plop onto the bed with a sigh. Eventually you drift off to sleep.

196 notes · View notes

waithyuck · 4 years ago

Text

cold

pairing: vampire!huang renjun x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: blood, biting, blood drinking, brief descriptions of gore (I guess idrk), explicit language, degradation, sexual content (oral, facefucking), no aftercare, mentions of being killed, renjun is a mean dom :/, reader is kinda weirdly into the whole vampire thing **unedited**

a/n: this was kinda written in a rush but I tried my best to produce it in the best quality I could! I hope y’all enjoy 💕 (I also wanna add that yes, it was already planned that there wouldn’t be any penetrative sex in this)

< previous | next >

~10/24/2020~

~~~~

walking home from work at eleven o’clock at night was probably the worst mistake you could have made. even worse, you thought it would just be such a great idea to take the back alleys, since it was faster and all you wanted to do was lay down on your bed and go to sleep.

you were an idiot, straight up.

you were walking with your head down, too preoccupied reading something on your phone to notice and be alert of your surroundings. you didn’t notice the creeping shadow coming up on you from behind.

when it grabbed you, you weren’t even able to scream; it covered your mouth immediately and shoved you against the brick of the building next to you. when you looked to see what it was, your body froze in horror.

this man–thing...no, creature, was standing before you grinning sinisterly, his sharp canines bared to you as he drank up your figure with his glowing, blood red eyes.

well, this was it. you were going to die in the hands of something you were pretty sure classified as a vampire. you didn’t stand a chance, not with the amount of strength, speed and stealth this man had already showcased to you.

you couldn’t make a sound, the fear inside you suffocating your lungs and making it hard to breathe. the man didn’t utter a word to you, and as he inched his fangs closer and closer to the vein pulsating in your throat, you squeezed your eyes shut and awaited to feel your death.

but it never came.

the weight of the man-creature-vampire thing was lifted off of you, his cold presence gone in an instant. you heard blood curdling snarls ringing out in the darkness of the alley, and you were too afraid to open your eyes to see what was happening.

you imagined that it was basically a fight between two vampires, and the victor would claim you as the meal. you should have run, but your legs were weak as the fear still consumed every cell in your body.

you were basically dooming yourself.

the wild growls finally ceased when you heard a loud crack of bones snapping, followed by a cut off yelp.

you assumed one of them was now dead, and finally you opened your eyes to take in the sight before you.

there stood another creature; much younger than the previous one by the looks of him, standing over the body of the now dead vampire. it’s head was severed from its body messily, the neck snapped clean off to where you could see the spine poking out in its place.

you wanted to throw up.

when the younger vampire looked at you, his blood red eyes squinted, and he moved closer to you in seconds, using his super speed to crowd you back against the brick wall. you whimpered, but didn’t feel as much fear as you did before, and you managed to keep your eyes open as you stood before him.

his nostrils flared as he sniffed around you, and it surprisingly didn’t weird you out as much as it should have. truth be told, even in the dim light of the moon, you could tell that this man was highly attractive. you cursed yourself for thinking this way about a creature that could easily tear you in two.

you were torn from your thoughts when you saw two fingers snap in front of your face, making your body jolt in return.

“the fuck are you doing out this late?” he suddenly questioned, his voice not at all like how you were imagining it to sound. it was soft…it wasn’t a voice you would have paired to be with a vampire. “it’s dangerous as fuck out here, you know.”

he was speaking so casually, like he didn’t just rip the head off of one of his kind. you sputtered out of cheer nervousness (and a little bit because he was so dazzlingly attractive), not knowing how to respond. his blood red eyes practically rolled out of his head at your pathetic attempts to speak.

“humans are so pathetic, seriously.” he spat, looking you up and down. “I don’t even know why I saved you. you smell good enough to devour.” his smirk, paired with the last part made your spine straighten, your hair prickling at the sense of possible danger.

“n-no!” you finally managed to blurt out, your hands coming up to instinctively cover your vulnerable throat. you wracked your brain to try to figure out how to negotiate with him; to get him to leave here without draining your body of life and blood.

unfortunately, only one thing came to mind, and you hated yourself for thinking it in the first place.

...you couldn't deny that you kinda had a thing for the whole undead, blood sucking, super strong creature shit he had going on. a million and one flashes raced through your mind, showing you different scenes of this stranger taking you up against the brick wall right here, and even biting you just to have a little taste.

it was fucked up, but you could stop your thighs from clenching at the possibilities.

he quirked an eyebrow at you, his smirk never leaving as he leaned into your space even further, flattening your body to the wall with his own.

“no what?” he practically purred, his cold breath fanning against your skin, causing goosebumps to form instantaneously.

“I’ll…” you started, weakly meeting his strong gaze. “I’ll d-do anything...j-just don’t kill me.” you tried to sound strong but there was a shiver in your voice, your chest trembling as you tried to speak. you saw his eyes flash with mischief before he pulled away entirely, giving you your space back.

“okay.” he nodded, his lips still presented in a smirk. “I’ll come find you whenever I need a favor.”

you couldn’t even ask him to elaborate or question him on exactly how he would find you, because in an instant he was gone from your sight, vanishing away and leaving you in the darkness with the still laying dead body of your first attacker.

with a quick shake of your whole body, you practically ran home, slamming the door shut and locking everything, including the windows.

you weren’t sure when to expect to see the vampire who saved you again, but you didn’t think it would take him two weeks to show his face.

you were minding your own business in the safety of your home, throwing your dirty clothes into your bedroom hamper when you heard a soft thud come from your window.

turning around, your eyes met the same red ones from that night two weeks ago, and you had to fight yourself not to shriek. his face was stoic as he stared at you, decked out in all black from his hoodie to his jeans, lowkey making your mouth water.

“hey there,” he said, slithering closer to your form. once again, he cornered you against a wall, not caring to give you any personal space. he inhaled softly, his nose living closer to your neck. “you smell absolutely delicious, darling.” his sharp canines were on display as he smiled mischievously at you, your heart racing in your chest at not only the fear, but the proximity of this attractive man as well.

“um, h-hello.” you muttered out stupidly, wringing your hands together in front of you.

“let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” he stood up at little straighter as he spoke, his eyes glinting as he looked at you. “you owe me a favor, and I’m being generous enough to let you choose what you want to give me.” he looked down at his nails, feigning disinterest as you were practically hyperventilating before him.

you nodded your head to acknowledge that you were hearing him, and he took that as a sign to continue.

“so, what will it be?”

you thought back to the thoughts you were plagued with that first night, and you almost immediately clenched your thighs. you really wanted this vampire to have you, all of you, even your blood for fucks sake. it’s like the sight of him cast a spell on you, and all you wanted to do was have his cock shoved down your throat as he did his best to ruin you completely.

you knew he was capable too; there was an aura around him that screamed dominance, and having the extra factor of being a vampire did nothing to extinguish your lewd sexual fantasies.

it was really fucked up, but you made your mind up in less than a minute.

“you can bite m-me.” you squeaked, looking anywhere but him. you swore you heard his breath hitch, but he nonetheless crowded you once again as he nosed into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“hmm, tempting.” he allowed the tip of his nose to graze softly against your sensitive skin, causing you to shiver as it tickled you. his sinister eyes flicked up to meet yours. “are you sure?”

with a small nod you agreed, your brain screaming at you to run and never look back, but your core telling you the very opposite.

his hands found your waist as he grounded you, holding you steady as he finally began to scrape his teeth along your flesh.

“I won’t take too much,” he muttered, almost like a reassurance to you. before you could even nod, he quickly plunged his fangs into your skin, and the pleasurably painful sensation immediately had you moaning out loudly.

you gripped his shoulders tightly, your eyes glazing over as your whole body pulsated with a sudden need, the burning hot pleasure running down from where he was currently biting you to your core, instantly causing your panties to flood with your desire.

he took a few large gulps, and once you began to feel lightheaded, he pulled his fangs from you, moaning at the taste of your blood.

not being able to hold yourself back, you spoke very through that came into your head.

“I w-want your cock,” you breathed out desperately, not sure exactly where the statement came from. it was so sudden and out of the blue, but he didn’t seem fazed for one second.

“oh really?” he questioned playfully, his blood stained lips quirking up in amusement.

“”yes, please,” you begged in response, gripped at the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

he hummed, his throat vibrating with the sound.

“get on your knees.” he demanded, his demeanor changing as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. he pointed to the ground in between the both of you and at first you were shocked at his words, even though you were the one who admitted you wanted him in the first place. you pressed your back against the wall even tighter as he gazed upon you with his blood-red eyes, your woozy head spinning.

“h-huh?” you managed to sputter out stupidly, causing him to sigh in annoyance. he shot his cold hand up to grip your throat, his nails squeezing into your skin slightly as you squeaked in surprise.

“you said you wanted my cock, right?” renjun growled, getting closer to your face with each word. you managed to nod shyly in his hold, your eyes wide and glassy as you stared back at him. he smirked, “then get on your fucking knees. don’t make me tell you again.”

he let go of you neck and returned his hand to his side, your eyes watching his every move before you finally shook yourself out of your stupor and lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. you didn’t really know what to do with yourself at that point, so you looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see if he would say anything else.

he rolled his eyes, scoffing as he reached for the button and zipper of his black jeans.

“dear fuck, do I have to fucking hold your hand through all of this?” his voice was icy and biting, but you still felt a warm shiver crawl up your spine as your core clenched at his words. he finally was able to undo the button and zipper and he then pulled down both his pants and underwear, leaving his almost fully hard cock out in the open on display for you.

he gripped your hair suddenly, forcing your face toward his crotch roughly. “put it in your fucking mouth, slut.”

you didn’t hesitate then, opening your mouth while using a hand to guide him past your lips, immediately swirling your tongue around the sensitive head. he groaned out above you and reached a hand to rest behind your head, not pushing on you just yet.

this wasn’t your first rodeo, so you were able to almost instantly take him all the way down your throat, only having to work up to it about three times. when his cockhead hit the back of your throat, you gagged a bit but it paid off to hear his moan cry out above you. you looked up innocently at him, bobbing your head up and down with your cheeks hollowed, drool dribbling out of the sides of your lips, adding to the messy look.

“that’s a good girl,” he breathed, his hand rubbing the back of your head almost tenderly before he shoved you completely down on him, your nose pressed against the skin of his pelvis.

your eyes blew wide and tears were prickling, but you willed yourself to relax, your throat slightly constructing instinctively around the intrusion in it.

“can I fuck your pretty face?” he growled out, finally letting you up for air. you pulled off to breathe, spit connecting your lips and the head of his angry red cock.

you managed to croak out a rough “yes”, your voice already hoarse from the few minutes of action it had been through. he gave you no time to prepare before he reached down to cup your chin and jaw in one hand, opening up your mouth before he roughly thrusted inside.

it sounded so filthy; the sounds escaping you were not cute and you were a bit embarrassed, but you were enjoying every second of the abuse to your mouth and throat. your panties were most definitely ruined at this point, and you could feel your pussy pulsating with every rough thrust of his cock down your throat.

“fucking take it, slut,” he grunted, his hips never ceasing their movements. you tried to breath through your nose as best you could, and were grateful for the small breaks he would allow you before going to town once again.

you braced your hands on his thighs as his pace quickened, his hips sloppy as he chased his high. there were no words shared and no derogatory comments spit at you as he grew closer and closer, his growls and snarls only growing louder with each passing thrust.

the sounds he was making were almost enough to get you to cum untouched, the mental stimulation almost overbearing as you felt your core tingle in need for him.

there was a nagging precense in the back of your mind that told you he wasn’t going to fuck you like you so desperately wanted him to, and there was a part of you that was perfectly okay with that.

the vampire let out a loud growl before he coneoktelt buried himself to the hilt down your flexing throat, your head knocking into the wall behind you as his cum shot directly down your esophagus.

it was uncomfortable, but you managed to swallow what you could before he pulled out and shot the rest of his hot cum all over your awaiting face.

you basked in the feeling of each shot landing on your skin, and you closed your eyes. your body felt as if it had no energy left, and you barely noticed him pulling his pants back up and fastening them closed in one swift movement.

you were right about him not fucking you or returning the favor, which was fine considering the lack of strength you currently had. the burn in your core was slowly fading along with your physical and mental strength.

as you lay slumped against the wall, his cum painted on your face and mouth, you mustered up the strength to look at and found him perched on your windowsill, ready to leave.

“what’s your n-name?” you croaked, your eyes barely open.

you could make out a smile forming on his lips.

“renjun,” he quickly responded, a lightness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before and that was a complete contrast to his earlier tone.

“and don’t worry, darling. I’ll be back for you.”

and in a quick flash, he was gone, and it was like he wasn’t ever there in the first place.

#renjun smut #nct-writers #neothestars #neowritingsnet #huang renjun #nct smut #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #renjun #nct scenarios #renjun scenarios #nct dream scenarios #halloweenie special

443 notes · View notes

elliesguitarstrings · 4 years ago

Text

Silence (Part 1/Prologue)

Peter Parker x stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This is my first ever post so idk how many people will see it but if you do feel free to send in any requests for Tom Holland or any of his characters and tell me if you like this story - part 2 coming soon!

Warnings: language, awkwardness, a little bit of fluff

italics mean flashbacks

~~~~~~~~

Today was a special day. Well, to you that is. To everyone else, it was just a normal Saturday. But to you, and hopefully to Peter too, it was special.

Today marks one year of you and Peter first meeting. One year since he walked through the glass elevator doors of the Avengers Compound. One year since you met your best friend. You remember it like it was yesterday.

Waking you up from a deep sleep, you hear a loud knock on your door, one you recognized only to be your dad’s.

He opens the door and peeks his head in.

“Hey, get up and come into the living room. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Barely awake, you respond, “No, let me sleep. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Watch your language young lady! Now get your ass out of bed and be out in ten minutes.”

He walks away, not even bothering to close the door.

You groan into your pillow and proceed to throw it across the room as you reluctantly get out of bed.

Lately you’ve been fed up with everyone in the compound, and you’re taking out all your anger on them. But what else are you supposed to do? Everyone treats you like a kid, but they still expect you to act like an adult. They don’t let you go on missions, but they still make you train. They don’t let you go to actual school, but they make you study twice as hard. Everyone is just so hard on you, especially your dad, and you’re fucking done with it.

You walk into the bathroom and pull your hair up into a quick ponytail, not bothering to brush your mess of hair. Hastily, you brush your teeth and splash some water on your face in an attempt to make yourself look somewhat alive, but the dark circles are still extremely noticeable. You walk back into your bedroom and think about changing out of your hoodie and shorts, but you decide against it. You look halfway decent, and whoever it is that your dad wants you to meet certainly can’t be so important that you have to change into something nice.

After a quick look in the mirror, you slowly make your way into the living room, dreading the coming interaction with another one of your dad’s boring co-workers.

However, when you look up and see a teenage boy sitting next to your dad on the sofa, your mood changes.

Your dad stands up and turns to you, gesturing at the boy.

“Y/N, this is Peter Parker, Spiderman, whatever you want to call him. He’s the newest addition to the team, and he’s moving into the compound in a few days. He’s the same age as you, so I thought you should show him around. So be nice.”

Peter blushes and smiles, giving you a small wave.

Suddenly you regret not changing.

He’s cute. So fucking cute. He has fluffy brown hair, brown puppy dog eyes, the cutest smile, and he’s your age. Your age. Everything about him is perfect.

Realizing that you have been staring for probably a little to long, you speak up.

“Um, hi Peter, I’m Y/N. Uh, it’s- it’s nice to have you here. Sorry I look like shit.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Peter responds, just as awkwardly as you.

“You don’t look like shit by the way,” he adds, “you look pretty.”

You smile, about to say thank you when your dad interrupts.

“Well, that was really fucking awkward, but I think you two are going to get along just fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it then, see ya around.”

He winks at you as he leaves to go to his lab, and you roll your eyes in return, mentally hitting yourself at how embarrassing this whole interaction has been so far.

You turn to Peter, “So, uh, why don’t I show you around and you can meet everyone.”

“Sounds good to me!” he smiles.

You start in the kitchen and show him around the compound: the movie room, the game room, the pool, the sun room, the training room, the labs, and the bedrooms, introducing him to all of the Avengers along the way. Finally, you stop at the largest spare bedroom, which happens to be right across from yours.

“This is probably gonna be your room. No one really uses it right now but since it’s the biggest one I thought you might want it.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but even the smallest room here is like ten times bigger than my room, so I’d be happy with anything. But since it’s across from you, I’ll take it.”

You blush, not sure if he’s flirting with you or just trying to be nice. Either way, it’s not helping your already developing crush on him.

“So, um, that’s the tour I guess. What do you want to do now?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t want to leave so you can spend more time with him.

“Well Happy isn’t taking me back home until three, so we still have a few hours to do whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Do you just want to hang out in my room? Maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure! Sounds great!”

The two of you walk across the hall to your room and you open the door, regretting again your poor choice to not clean up this morning. Your bed was a mess, your clothes were strewn everywhere, and your desk was piled high with papers and books.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, my room is such a mess.” you exclaim, rushing to push your clothes in the corner and hastily pull your covers up in a sad attempt to make the bed.

Peter smiles and laughs, “Don’t worry, if you think this is messy, you should see my room. This is nothing.”

You laugh as well, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the TV remote. You pat your bed, motioning for Peter to sit down next to you.

“Y- you want me to sit next to you? Like on your bed?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Oh, um, yeah. But only if you want. You can sit on the beanbag chair over there instead, I guess. I just thought the bed would be more comfortable. And you would be able to see the TV better.”

“Oh, um, ok. That’s fine.”

He makes his way over to your bed and sits next to you, and you silently turn on the TV, starting to overthink everything.

There was a boy. On. Your. Bed. You weren’t doing anything, but still. You suddenly realized how little interaction you’ve had with people your age. Even girls. You didn’t go to school, so you only hung out with the Avengers. The closest person to your age was Wanda, and even she was a lot older than you.

‘Am I being too forward?’ you started to think to yourself. ‘Should I have not asked him to sit on my bed? What is he thinking right now? Oh my god, this is so bad. He probably thinks I’m so weird. He probably hates me. Fuck.’

When you see him looking in your direction, you decide to stuff the thoughts in the back of your head and try to act as normal as possible.

“So, what should we watch?” you ask.

“Um, do you, uh... do you like Star Wars?”

“Are you kidding me? I LOVE Star Wars!” you exclaim, the tension and awkwardness easing slightly.

“Really? My favorite is A New Hope.”

“No shit! Mine too!”

“Then A New Hope it is I guess!”

You turn on the movie, smiling, and you notice that he scoots a little closer to you, seemingly more comfortable.

A few minutes into the movie, Peter breaks the silence between you two and asks, “So what’s it like living with the Avengers?”

“Oh,” you look away from the TV, “it’s cool I guess. But after a while it’s gotten pretty boring. And really frustrating.”

“Frustrating? Why?”

“It’s just, well, they treat me like a kid all the time. And before you say it, yes, I know I am a kid, but it’s still annoying. There’s no one here even close to my age, I mean fuck, Thor’s like 1500 years old. And none of them know how to talk to me. They act like I’m a toddler even though I’m literally sixteen and they never let me go on missions with them, because they don’t think I’m ready even though I’ve been training since I was like ten – “

You cut yourself off, realizing you’ve been ranting for probably a little too long.

“Sorry about that,” you mumble. “It’s just that I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about this.”

“No! Don’t be sorry. That fucking sucks. Not gonna lie, you’re kinda making me regret moving here if that’s how everyone’s gonna treat me,” he laughs.

“They’re not gonna treat you like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m the same age as you.”

“Because. You’re a fucking superhero. They don’t give a fuck about your age if you can climb walls and shoot spider webs out of your hands.”

“Well, even if they don’t treat me like a kid then I’ll still back you up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles. You blush and smile back.

“Thanks”

“Of course.”

He scoots even closer to you so that your shoulders are barely touching. If this had happened five minutes earlier, you would be freaking out. But now, something is different. You aren’t sure what, but you suddenly feel more calm and comfortable with him around.

You finish the rest of the movie in silence, and you realize you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You were scared he would push your head away, but he didn’t care.

“You awake?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night and my dad woke me up early, well, to meet you.”

He smiles down at you, and suddenly your dad bursts through the door. You scramble to sit up, lifting your head off Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey kid, Happy’s here to – oh?” He stares at the two of you sitting next to each other in your bed, both blushing. “Jesus, you’ve only just met and you already slept together? At least tell me you used protection.”

“DAD, OH MY GOD, NO!” you exclaim, blushing even harder now.

“Mr. Stark, I promise. We- we were just watching a movie. Nothing happened!” Peter assures him.

“Sure, sure,” your dad winks at the two of you.

“Dad, seriously. Nothing happened!” you groan in frustration.

“Whatever. Anyways, Happy’s here to take you back to Queens Pete. Be down in five.” He leaves the room.

“God, that was fucking embarrassing,” Peter laughs getting up from the bed.

“That’s my dad for you.”

You both walk to the door, and before you leave the room, you give him a small hug.

“I’m glad you’re moving in, Peter.”

“Me too,” he smiles, “Friends?”

“Definitely.”

You smile thinking back on the memory. After that day, you and Peter have spent almost every hour of every day together. You’re rarely ever apart, even at night. You sleep with him in his bed, and he sleeps with you in yours. The rest of the team bugs the two of you to get together, but you both agree that you are just friends. Best friends cuddle with each other and kiss each other’s foreheads and play with each other’s hair, right?

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #tom holland #peter parker x reader #marvel #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

202 notes · View notes

gr0vndz3ro · 4 years ago

Text

Safe Haven

Warnings: Cursing, slight emotional/ mentally manipulative relationship

Word Count: 3,259

Crossed off: Protective Hug

Prompt: "You don't have to talk about it, let me just hold you."

Tag List: @keigod @dragonhrte @mrs-takami-keigo @fanfic-me-up @gallickingun @royal-after-dark @hawks-senseis @bnhabookclub @pixxiesdust @diorsho

A/N: Hey I know this isn’t exactly what you had asked for but I got really inspired while writing this. I hope that you like it because I found it really fun to write!!

Even though you showed up at this shop at the dead hours of the night, it always surprised you that they were still open. Seeing as you would show up anywhere between 10pm to 4 am, unable to feel at ease in your own home. Due to the time you showed up, you typically were the only customer in the place, minus the few heroes that would stop by for expressos to keep them awake through their shift. No one ever bothered you as you wrap yourself in a blanket and tucked yourself into your own little world in the corner of the shop. So you could imagine your surprise when one day someone approaches you.

Tonight was Bakugou’s first shift in this area. He had done thousands of patrols before, being one of the top 10 heroes, but every time he got assigned a night shift, he always found himself filled with dread. He was the furthest thing from a night owl, much preferring to get in his much needed beauty rest and getting to bed no later than 9 pm. So if he was going to get through a 10-7 shift, he was going to need coffee, and a lot of it.

While roaming down the streets of this seemingly peaceful neighborhood he came across a run down coffee shop. He almost passed it, barely even being able to tell it was open, the only hint of life being the small sign in the window and the few lights that were on inside. Pushing open the door, a little bell chimed upon his entrance, allowing whoever was there to know of his arrival. He stepped inside the shop, the door slowly closing behind him as he traveled over toward the counter to try and order a drink. When he made it there, he took the time to take in his new surroundings, cozy chairs with little tables littered the place, along with solo chairs that were covered in pillows next to what seemed to be a worn down bookshelf with tattered books filling it. As his eyes moved across the interior décor, he almost missed the person that was seated in the very corner of the place, blanket around their body with a mug delicately placed on a little side table, an arm's reach away. Slightly startled by the presence of another person in the place, he didn’t realize that the barista had finally arrived at the front counter.

“Hello, what can I help you with tonight sir?” A young voice said making the grown man jump. Slight anger filling him at this person being able to catch him off guard.

“AH- didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to catch people off guard like that?” He glares at the boy behind the counter.

“Oh did I scare you mister Ground Zero sir?” A smirk across the teenagers face as he leans on the counter.

“I swear if you weren’t a kid I’d kill..” Bakugou mutters under his breath before taking a deep breath. “Just give me the strongest drink you’ve got, and add an extra espresso shot.”

“Alright one americano with an extra shot of espresso coming right up. Good luck sleeping.” The young teen then walks off to make the drink for the Pro. As Bakugou waits for his drink to be made, he feels his gaze fall back onto the person seated in the corner. They seemed unfazed by the presence of another person in the shop, the only way he even knew the person was conscious was because of them adjusting the blanket around their body. What was a civilian doing in this place at a time like this? Just as he was going to make his way over to the person in the corner, a voice stopped him. “Alright here you go sir, your total is $3.50″ Placing a ten on the counter, he grabs his drink and turns toward the door, curiosity taking over him as he makes his way out of the coffee shop.

You could imagine his surprise when he returns to the same coffee shop at 1 in the morning, to see a young woman sitting in the same chair the stranger had sat in 2 days prior. Ordering himself the same drink as before he can’t tear his gaze away from her.

“She’s always here around this time. It’s like her little safe haven so we never tell her to leave.” The boy speaks up, causing Bakugou to look away from her. He raises his eyebrow, wondering what he was talking about. “I just noticed that the last time you were here you couldn’t stop looking at her and since you were doing the same this time you might be interested or something. A fair warning though, I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone, even if he is an asshole...” The last part of his sentence trailing off as he said it more to himself. He turns away from Bakugou to grab the finished drink before telling him his total and handing it over. He pays and takes the drink with him as he makes his way back outside of the little shop.

Yet another few days pass and he finds himself walking inside of the barren café. His head immediately turning to the left spotting the woman curled up in the chair in the corner. But as he took a step toward the counter, his feet betrayed him and carried him over to where she sat. When he arrived right next to where she was, she didn’t even seem to notice he was there, completely lost in her own thoughts. So when he cleared his throat he could have swore she could have gone through the roof with how hard she had jumped.

“What the hell are you doing up at this time. Don’t you have better things to do then be here in the middle of the night?” He questioned her, his tone coming off much harsher as his currently tired state hadn’t had any coffee yet. He never felt bad about how his words might affect someone, but watching the way she flinched at his cold demeanor, made him immediately feel riddled with guilt. He lowered himself down to her side to try to attempt to look friendlier as he spoke up again. “Um, I’m- sorry? I haven’t had any coffee yet and I guess you could say I’m not much of a night owl. I had just noticed that every time I’m here, you’re over here in this damn corner and I just wanted to know why the hell you’re even up at this time and not asleep like every other normal person would be.”

You slightly untuck yourself from the cozy blanket you had wrapped around your form to make eye contact with the man that was now standing by your side. Your eyes met his own as you watched his face contort as he attempted to sound nicer. You could feel a smile wanting to spread across your face, but the memories of the fight you were in just mere hours ago made quick work to stop it from happening. But when the stranger’s head tilts to the side, similar to a confused puppy, you couldn’t help the chuckle that passed your lips.

“Well as hard as it may seem to believe, some people in this world are actually more night people.” You fake a smile onto your face so as to not scare off the stranger, but he doesn’t seem to fall for it for a second.

“Yeah well that’s bullshit, why is it that you are you actually here at..” he pauses looking past me to glance the clock mounted on the wall, “fuckin 2:43 am. You’re just sitting here in this chair, why don’t you just head home?” The smile that was on your face quickly falters as you think back to your house and what laid waiting for you in your sheets.

“I- I like it here better at night. I don’t sleep well.” You stare into your mug, the drink practically empty after drinking most of it over the time you’ve been here, yet the brown liquid suddenly seemed 100x more interesting than it was just mere moments before. He pauses, thinking for a moment before responding.

“You got one of those sleep disorders?” His eyebrow raises but you don’t see as you continue looking into your drink.

“Yup, and it’s fast asleep under my sheet right now.” A look of confusion takes over his face as he tries to understand what you mean. But you shake your head and put a smile back onto your face. “I’m just messing around, but yeah I guess I do. It’s not that big of a deal though I just like coming here. It’s like my happy place almost. You know, kinda like the place where I can just go and escape all the crap in my life and just breath. Honestly feels like I’m just suffocating sometimes and it gets so hard being around him I just.. oh my god I’m rambling. I’m so sorry. You’re a complete stranger and you don’t want to be hearing all of this.” A look of slight horror taking over your face as you realize you were spilling out all of your personal life to this complete stranger. Yet as you look over at him it seems to click in his head as he goes to speak up.

“Who is it that is making you so uncomfortable in your house? You’re not being hurt are you” A sudden wave of worry coating his voice as he thinks about the sort of trouble you could be in at your house.

“It’s nothing really I promise. Everything is fine, it's not that big of a deal. Plus it's nothing that I can’t handle.” You close your eyes and wave your hand at him trying to brush off the topic, but when his own hand wraps around your wrist it causes you to slightly jump before you open back up your eyes and look at him. You watch as he attempts to soften his face as he talks to you, now showing real concern for you.

“Just because it’s something you’ve handled before doesn’t mean you should have to go through it anymore. I can tell that you are a strong woman but that doesn’t mean that you have to go through whatever crap some douche is making you go through, you know that right?” Your eyes start to slightly tear up at his words. Never before had a random stranger showed you this much concern for your personal life.

“Oh um, thank you. It’s nothing that bad though it’s just. Well I guess you could say my boyfriend has a bit of a temper. It never has gotten physical he just yells... a lot. He hasn’t been the nicest lately and it seems like the only time I ever am able to get out of the house is at times like these, when I sneak out to come here. But honestly It's nothing to worry about, you should probably get going though, the city needs it’s mighty Pros out there watching over them as they sleep.”

“Are you sure that you are going to be okay here by yourself?” He asks you as he stands up beside where you were sitting as you go to nod your head telling him yes, you were caught off guard by the sound of your phone going off. You look down at it and feel as if you are frozen in place when you read the caller I.D and see his name, a chill making its way down your spine. You were about to respond to the kind man who had been keeping you company but when you went to speak, the words just seemed to stick in place as the thought of him made them feel like a suffocating sludge in the back of your throat.

“Um actually I need to go.. right now. Thank you so much for putting up with my rambling. Good night.” As you go to rush past him you felt a gentle hand stop you as it held your shoulder. You pause and look up at him, meeting his eyes. He had a question look on your face at your sudden rush to leave.

“What’s got you in such a rush? I thought this was your safe place.” He paused as he noticed your open phone seeing a name across the screen with a few choice words and it clicked in his head, the confusion he previously had now gone. “Let me walk you home at least.” Your eyes widen as you process his offer.

“Oh no, no, that’s fine you don’t have to do that I’ll be fine I promise. Anyways no one is out at this time so there is nothing really to worry about. You just get back to your patrols...” The smile that makes its way to his cheeks brings a sense of warmth to your heart in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“As a hero it’s my duty to make sure that every civilian makes it safely to wherever they need to be, and if I aim to stay on the top I can’t just let you go walk the streets yourself. Plus, who knows what kind of criminals are out at this time.” As you go to argue against him, he quickly cuts you off. “I’m not taking no for an answer so you might as well just get going and lead the way." Letting out a sigh you realize there was no getting out of this so you lead the way to your apartment.

The two of you walk side by side down the street as you travel to your home. The closer that you get to the house the more nervous you feel yourself getting thinking about what could be lying in wait for you just beyond the doors. As you make the final turn to where you live, you pause just a few doors away. Bakugou paused in his steps as he noticed that you had stopped. His gaze drifts between you and the door you were staring at.

“Is this your place?” He questions, but is soon certain that it is when he takes in your nervous stance. When you don’t respond he walks closer to you and once again gently places his hand on your shoulder. “Hey are you going to be safe here? Because if you’re not I can always...”

“What do you think you're doing with your hands on my girlfriend?” You felt your body freeze and your heart drop at the sound of his voice. Bakugou goes to turn around but you stop him as you rest your hand on his wrist.

“Thank you for walking me home, I really appreciate it, but I should be heading in.” You go to step past him but flinch as you hear your boyfriend speak up again.

“So is this what you’ve been doing at night? Sneaking around with another man? After all that I do for you, for us? This is the kind of thanks that I get. Unbelievable. You are such a fu..”

“That’s it” You quickly look up from the ground and make eye contact with Bakugou as you see him start to boil with anger as he looks over to you, mouthing to stay behind him before turning to your apartment door and look over to your boyfriend. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to like that?" Choosing to ignore the angry blond currently defending you.

“Get inside the fucking house, I don’t have time for this bullshit. You’ve caused enough trouble involving a hero in this so just get inside. We can deal with this in the morning.” You feel yourself sigh as you go to step forward but are stopped by a broad arm.

“She’s not fucking going anywhere, especially not with a piece of shit like you.” He continued to hold his arm out, easily blocking you from his path and your boyfriend left the door way and headed over.

“Incase you didn’t notice, I wasn’t talking to you. So if you don’t mind, we will be going now.” As he goes to grab your wrist, he is quickly stopped by Bakugou grabbing his and flinging it away from you but not before grasping his shirt collar.

“Listen and listen well. If I ever catch you laying a finger on her, come near her, even so much as breathe in her direction, you are going to become very well acquainted with my fist.” The sound of crackling coming from his fist mixing with the deep growl of his voice was enough to send chills down your spine. You could see how it had affected your boyfriend as well as you saw the confidence he previously had disappear. He tried to hold his ground as his collar was finally released and look back toward you before scoffing.

“Whatever. If you want to be with this try hard then go right ahead. You’ll just come crawling back anyways.” As he was about to continue, Bakugou stepped closer toward you once again, blocking his view of you.

As he turned around and walked off, going who knows where, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulder with every step he took. The overwhelming relief caused you to cry slightly as you realized that you were finally free. When he turned around to see you crying, the urge to hold you and protect you felt stronger than before. Never before had anyone made him feel this way, but from the first moment he saw you flinch, he wanted nothing more than to just hold you and protect you from the world. So that’s what he did. He reached out and engulfed you in his arms, his hold pressing you into his muscular form as you drowned in his warmth. You tried to raise your head to ask him why, but found yourself unable to as he spoke up.

“You don’t have to talk about it, just let me hold you.” So you didn’t say anything and allowed the two of you to stand outside of your apartment as this man who you barely knew held you in his arms as you felt all your stress melt away. This complete stranger had changed your life for the better, freeing you from the hold of your boyfriend, standing up to him in the way he knew that you couldn’t, and you could tell that he didn’t do it because it was his duty as a hero, but instead as someone who genuinely cared. So you stood there embracing him and for the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe. You felt at home.

381 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Pretend - Richie Tozier

word count: 13,840 warnings: swearing, sexual themes summary: richie and (y/n) share a dirty little secret, and it’s starting to get in the way of her relationship. but it shouldn’t if it was just a fling, right? based on this song (a/n): about to hit 5.4k so I thought I'd celebrate by posting this ol’ thing :) I really like it I hope y'all do too :3

___

[ love... i have wounds, only you can mend // i guess that’s love… i can’t pretend ]

It was a plain saturday for the Losers. And by plain, I mean they were chilling in Bill’s bedroom, thankful that his parents were out of town for the weekend because that meant they could raid the liquor cabinet and be a bit louder than usual.

(y/n) was leaning against the mattress, sat on the floor, a beer bottle in hand and a smile on her face. These were the best kinds of nights, where all they did was talk, and it was all they had to do.

Eddie smacks Richie on his shoulder, but nearly hits his face in his drunken stupor. And when (y/n) laughs, her head leans a little more into Ben’s leg, which is hanging off the side of the bed where he sat. She’s laughing loudly into the denim of his jeans, and the material does nothing to muffle the sound.

Everyone else is laughing too, though, so it doesn’t matter.

“Alright, so is anyone aware that in four months, we won’t see each other like this anymore?” Beverly asks, a frown on her face as she takes another drink. “I mean, what, am I supposed to make new friends?”

“Yeah, good look with that, Ringwald” Richie snorts, and Bev just flips him off, the way she always does when he calls her that.

“We won’t be that far from each other” Ben says to her with a sweet smile.

“And it’s not like we won’t write, too,” Stan chimes in. “Except you Richie, after we graduate, never fucking talk to me again-”

“Oh, I’ll send you love letters every day sweetie pie,” Richie says before Stan can even finish. “Don’t you worry, it’ll be like I’m right there with you”

He sticks his tongue out and snickers, while Stan grumbles about needing a break.

(y/n) can’t help but giggle at both boys. Partially because she gets very giggly when tipsy, and partially because they’re the two funniest people she knows. Richie grins at her when he catches her laughing, only making her laugh more.

“How are w-we gonna do it?” Bill muses, not really looking for an answer, because there really isn’t one.

“We don’t,” (y/n) shrugs. “We avoid it until… there’s not really any other option”

“Dark” Ben mumbled.

“It’s true,” (y/n) argued. “If we go through this year with the mindset that this is the end, then we’ll push each other away, it’s psychology”

Eddie nods because he was in her class and is pretty sure he remembers hearing that.

“So we just live our best year” He agrees with her.

She high fives him.

“Well you’re already on your way,” Beverly said, and stood up from where she sat next to Mike so she could plop down next to her best girl. “What, with your fancy scholarship, and your boyfriend” She singsonged the word, and (y/n) wilted with embarrassment.

“Come on Bev-”

“Are you guys gonna stay together?” Stan asks, the gears in his head turning as soon as her boyfriend was mentioned. “I mean it’s been like… five months, right?”

“Four and a half” (y/n) mumbled, pulling her knees to her chest.

She stares down at her drink, and then takes a long swig. She had a feeling she’d need it.

Talking about her boyfriend when everyone was around was… awkward. It was one thing if it was just her and Beverly, but to have all the boys’ eyes on her every time his name came up made her feel hot, like she was being interrogated.

“So you’re kinda serious,” Stan shrugged. “How many times have you done it?”

She chokes, and coughs for a long moment before catching her breath.

“Stan you don’t get to-”

“Come on, just fess up,” Beverly giggles. “We won’t make fun! Promise!”

(y/n’s) cheeks go hot, and she knows they’re pink and that she’ll only be picked on more for it. She locks eyes with Richie, who winks at her, and now her face must be red.

“We- uh-” Her eyes dart away before she can choke and lose her train of thought again. “We actually um… haven’t… done… that” She says slowly, and with every reluctant word her voice gets softer.

“What?” Eddie screeches.

“No way,” Stan is laughing in disbelief. “Come on, just give up the number. What, ten? Fifteen? Twenty-?!”

(y/n’s) eyes are narrowed at him, silently yelling for him to fuck off.

“Really?” Beverly asks, just as shocked as the others.

Well, everyone was surprised.

“But he’s so…”

“Hot?” Eddie offers, only to get nudged in the ribs by the trashmouth next to him.

“I was going to say affectionate,” Beverly answers, staring skeptically at Richie. “He’s always hanging all over you, how have you not hooked up?”

(y/n) shrugs her shoulders and stares down at her drink again.

“I dunno” She mumbles weakly.

“Has he tried-?”

“This is super awkward, can we be done?” She asked, voice still soft, embarrassed.

“I mean come on, don’t you want to f-”

“Can we stop fucking talking about this, before I’m forced to visualize his dick?” Richie cuts in, faking a gag. “Oh, fuck, too late, thanks a lot you sluts”

Stan and Beverly are distracted by the comment and burst into laughter while Richie pretends to throw up.

After the conversation ends, and Ben starts talking about the colleges he’s deciding between, (y/n) glances over to her favorite glasses-wearing idiot. He catches her gaze, and she mouths ‘thank you’. He just smiles, before diving right back into conversation about why Ben should be an architect and not a poet.

A few beers later and they have to cut themselves off, because if they drink too much then Bill’s parents will notice and they’ll all get in trouble. They shouldn’t be drinking anymore anyways, because everyone’s relatively tipsy, and with the general excitable mood among the group, drinking more would be a bad idea.

Everyone’s lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling and talking about nonsense. What was once a serious conversation about their future has turned into a debate about what the most important thing to have when stranded on an island would be.

“A knife, definitely a knife” Mike argues.

“What? Fuck no, a gun” Stanley fights back, thus starting an argument about not having bullets because you can only choose one item.

“Flint? I guess? I don’t fuckin’ know” Beverly says sleepily. She didn’t care much for this discussion when it started, and forty five minutes later, she still doesn’t.

“I’d bring an issue of Maxim, for sure. Gotta keep busy you know-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie grumbles. “I’d bring an epipen. I’m allergic to everything on an island”

“Oh fuck off, you’re not allergic to sand” Richie smacks the boy on his arm for suggesting something so idiotic.

“I’d bring one of my grandpa’s sheep,” Mike spoke after what seemed like forever of deliberation. “It’d save his life and I’d have a companion”

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) cooed, smiling delightedly at the idea of Mike wanting a friend more than anything else. “I’ll take a sheep too, please”

The two break out into laughter for a few minutes, uncontrollable, belly aching laughter.

“You can’t copy Mike, come up with your own!” Eddie scolded, offended that (y/n) tried to break the rules of their made up game.

“Alright, alright, let a girl think first…” (y/n) folded her arms over her head as she squinted, to help her thought process. “Um… a book”

“A book?” Eddie laughed almost maniacally at her answer. “Alright, just fuckin’ take a sheep from Mike, that was even worse”

“What? No it isn’t,” (y/n) argued. “It’ll keep me occupied and entertained, and when it’s done I can read it over again”

“Lame” Eddie muttered.

She reached over to smack him, and sadly Bill got caught in the crossfire.

“You wouldn’t bring your lover?” Stan teased, and she almost hit him too. “You’d pick a farm animal over your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t think of it like that” She said quietly.

“I don’t get you guys,” Stan says, and she sighs because the conversation has somehow drifted to him, again. “I mean, it’s been four and a half months, and typically couples get it on for their one month. But you’ve had four anniversaries and still haven’t-”

“Why are you so interested in my business, Stanley?” (y/n) asked, a bit more defensive than she needed to be.

He raises his hands and pulls an innocent face.

“I’m just worried about you!” He retorts. “You’re the one in desperate need-”

“I’m not desperate for anything” She snaps.

“Yeah, Stan, she’s not a virgin, (y/n’s) gotten some before” Beverly makes an attempt to back (y/n) up, but it only makes her feel worse.

“What? But he’s her first boyfriend- oh my god, who was it?” Stan asks, way more interested in this topic now.

“Leave me alone” She rolls her eyes and shoves his shoulder.

“Oh god, it must be real embarrassing,” Eddie is giddy for the gossip now, sitting up to join in better. “Who was it?”

“Cut it out” She says a bit louder, sharp eyes meeting Eddies, a silent threat in them.

“Who was it, Bev?” Eddie asked, deciding to go the source it came from.

But she shrugs her shoulders, and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“What do you m-mean you don’t kn-know?” Bill stammers out.

“She didn’t wanna tell me” Beverly answers, simple as that.

(y/n) covers her face with her hands. She wishes she was more drunk than she was, because then maybe there was hope for recovering from this. Or maybe even forgetting completely.

“Must be real embarrassing,” Richie teases.

She peeks at him through her fingers.

“Bowers?” He asks with a raised brow, and she barks out a laugh.

Everyone laughs then, at the mere idea of anyone hooking up with that nutcase.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell, okay?” She admits after the laughter has died and all attention is on her again. “It’s private” She adds softer.

“Fine” Stan gives in, not wanting to make the girl anymore uncomfortable.

If they knew anything about (y/n), it was that she kept secrets and promises locked away forever. She was the most trustworthy person any of them had ever met. And she’d never break someone else’s trust either.

“But if you’ve done it before, why aren’t you, yaknow, still doing it?” Stan asks, and begins to giggle at his own words. “I mean, if I had a hot girlfriend, I’d be doing it like… all the time”

“Pervert” (y/n) mumbles.

“Did you just call (y/n) hot?” Eddie asks, and everyone ooohs at his catch.

“Alright, alright! Calm down, of course I did!” Stan announces, and a blush takes over the girl’s face again. But this time she’s not embarrassed, she’s flattered. “It’s an observation, okay? Jesus”

She giggles, and leans over to kiss his cheek.

“You guys are so dumb,” She mumbles. “I love you all so much”

“All I’m asking,” Stan declares, voice loud. “Is why you’re avoiding it!”

“I’m not avoiding it” She argues, but she knows she’s failed because it’s such a blatant lie, and any sober mind would be able to see that.

Luckily, no one in this room is sober.

“Oh yeah?” Stan scoffs. “Have you been home alone with him in the last four and a half months?”

“Yeah?” She asks, voice cracking slightly.

“And you didn’t screw him?”

“Watch it” Richie’s voice bites from where he lies a few feet away from them. Stan pays it no mind, but Bev kicks his leg, and furrows her brow at him, wondering why he gave a fuck what Stan had to say.

The others were either asleep, or didn’t want to step in on the mini argument (y/n) and Stan were having.

Ben and Mike had passed out on the floor a few minutes ago. And Eddie and Bill just sat and listened to the argument, wishing they could pass out.

“No, I- I didn’t,” (y/n) stammers. “But so? I don’t want to rush it-”

“Liaaaar,” Stan singsongs. “You don’t want to hook up with him”

“That’s not true!” She exclaims. “We-. we’re actually hanging out at his place tuesday night,” She tells him matter of factly. “Alone!”

“Ooh, good for you,” Stan retorts sarcastically. “That doesn’t mean shit unless you actually take your pants off”

Her face scrunches up as her eyes narrow at him. Now she’s angry, because he doesn’t believe her, and he’s not trying to. So what if she’s lying through her teeth? He’s her friend and he should believe her.

“I’m tired” She announces suddenly, and forces herself to stand up.

She steals one of the few blankets on Bill’s bed that he’d prepared for everyone. Her balance is a bit shaky as she wraps it around herself, and heads for the door.

“Goodnight” She calls, only once she’s left the room and is heading for the pullout bed in the living room sofa.

The room is silent for a few minutes after she’s left.

“Well fuck, you’re gonna have to apologize in the morning” Eddie mumbles, and San knows he’s talking to him.

“I didn’t think she’d get that pissed,” He replied guiltily. “I was just messin’, I thought she’d just get embarrassed. I don’t know what I did-”

“She doesn’t like talking about that stuff, dumbass,” Richie says. “Shit makes her uncomfortable”

“Well I didn’t know that-” Stan starts to argue.

Beverly stops him before he can start any more drama tonight.

“Don’t worry about it, Stan, she’ll be alright,” She says, and then gets up to get a blanket as well. “I’ll go talk to her to make sure she really is alright, goodnight”

The boys mumble a ‘goodnight’ back to her, and she descends the staircase to check on her friend, who’s laying facedown on the mattress.

“Oh, hon,” Bev laughs, and lays down next to her. “Don’t be so upset with Stan, he was just being dumb-”

“I know” (y/n) mumbles into her pillow.

Beverly pulls the blanket she’s brought with her and drapes it over her back, so she won’t get cold while she’s pouting.

“Then what’s troubling you?”

Her words are a bit slurred, but the care is still there.

“I just… I don’t know. I didn’t have to think about it before and now I can’t stop,” (y/n) admits with a sign. “And maybe I’m upset because… he’s right. Maybe I’m upset because he’s write and I wouldn’t admit it to myself, but I have been avoiding hooking up with him. I mean, so much could go wrong and I just… don’t want to have a bunch of drama our senior year, yaknow? I want it to be smooth and easy. And so far with him our relationship has been smooth and easy, but what if he’s wanted to do it this whole time and I keep dodging him and now he’s gonna break up with me?”

(y/n) lifts her head to turn to her redheaded friend for advice.

But Beverly is sound asleep, snoring softly against her pillow.

(y/n) can’t help but smile a bit, even though she really needed help sorting out her messy thoughts. But she wasn’t going to bother Beverly by waking her up.

So she carefully crept off the squeaky pullout mattress, and went back upstairs.

Ben and Mike are still asleep on the floor, but someone’s thrown a couple blankets over them.

Stan is on Bill’s bed, facing the opposite direction as Bill, and they’ve both knocked off as well.

Maybe everyone else had more to drink than her, she thinks as she shuts the door to leave them be. When she turns to head to the guest bedroom, she nearly runs into Eddie.

“Who are you looking for?” He asks right away.

He rubs his tired eyes, and she adores that he looks like a child when he does so.

“Um-”

“Richie’s in bed already,” Eddie says before she can answer. “If you’re gonna prank him, you might want to wait a few minutes, so you know he’s in a deep enough sleep”

(y/n) chuckles at the unprompted advice, and nods her head.

“Alright... thanks” She says.

Eddie doesn’t say anything else as he pushes past her to go to sleep in Bill’s room.

“You aren’t gonna sleep in the guest room?” She asks with furrowed brows.

“Fuck no, Richie kicks and talks in his sleep. I’d rather stay on the floor with those two” Eddie answers, and then gives her a small wave before shutting the bedroom door.

She takes a deep breath as she stands in front of the guest room’s door. And then before she could stop herself, she opens the door, and shuts it quickly behind her as she steps inside.

Richie's laying in bed, arms wrapped around the pillow that his face is pressed into. He mumbles a slurred ‘who is it?’ into the feathery cushion. But he knows it’s her before she even answers. Because as she sits on the side of the bed next to him, he can smell her perfume.

He squints up at her, having lost his glasses somewhere in Bill’s room, and wonders what she’s doing here.

“Surprise” She says weakly, and a slight smirk tugs on his lips.

“What’s goin’ on?” He asks, leaning his face back down into the comfort of the cool pillow. He was already getting a headache from the four beers he had. (He’d drank two of the three Eddie had gotten)

“Can we talk?” She asks in a voice so soft that she can only be referencing one thing.

Richie nods, and pats the space next to him with his palm.

She hesitates for just a moment, before giving in and laying down in the spot, grabbing a hold of the other pillow she mirrors Richie’s actions and hugs it under her head.

He doesn’t say anything, just lays there with his eyes closed in the dark and waits for her to go first.

“Was I….” She starts, but then bites her lip and shakes her head as she changes her mind. “When we…”

“...hooked up?” He offers.

It’s so casual, so quiet, that her heart skips a beat, because she can’t believe he can just say it like that. Speak their darkest, most carefully kept secret, out into the open like that.

“Yeah…” She mumbled back. “Was I… I don’t know… good?”

He opens his eyes now, and his brows furrow as he sees her anxious expression.

They hadn’t talked about it since it had happened, which was their deal, but after her argument with Stan he figured she was going to sneak in here and talk to him. He’s not sure why she looks so scared, though.

“Were you good?” He repeats her question, like he doesn’t understand it.

She nods her head.

“(y/n), of course you were good, you were you,” He chuckles, a genuine smile on his lips. The compliment, if you could call it that, made her blush. “He’ll be lucky to have you in his bed, alright?”

“Be honest with me,” She said. “Don’t just say stuff to make me feel better”

“I’m not” Richie grumbles, laying back down again.

His head his swirling a bit, and with her laying so close to him, it wasn’t helping.

“Why haven’t you done it yet, anyways?” He asks her after it’s been silent for too long.

“I…” She tries and fails to answer the question. But she’s her most honest self when she’s with Richie, and feels he deserves an explanation for her behavior tonight. “... was scared” She finishes after a few minutes.

“You’re scared of sex?” He mumbles, and she shakes her head.

“No… just… with him”

“That makes no sense, (y/n/n)”

“I know” She whispers out, and her fingers draw patterns on the sheets.

“You think he’s gonna… hurt you?” Richie asks, because as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he has to ask.

“No, of course not,” She replies, and lifts up his blanket so she can shimmy under it and warm up a bit. “Sometimes I feel like I just don’t know him” Her voice drops to a whisper again.

Her eyes are focused on his tee shirt, trying to figure out what band is advertised on it while Richie thinks. He’s not sure what to tell her, because of course he doesn’t want to promote her hooking up with him. But… the guy’s her boyfriend, so what’s he supposed to do?

“(y/n)....” He sighs, and subconsciously wraps an arm around her. His hand tangles in her hair, massaging her scalp comfortingly. “That’s not true, you’ve been together for a while now”

The logic is there, but she’s unconvinced.

“And besides,” He continues, and she looks up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “When you’re ready, you’ll know,” He says, and he grins before poking her cheek and nose. “But you already know that”

She giggles softly, swatting away his hand.

“I hate when you’re right, you know,” She says through a yawn.

Without thinking, she leaned her head into his chest.

“What if I don’t want to do it, though?” She asks. “What if… what if I don’t like it?”

“You hurt my feelings when you talk like you’ve never done it before”

“No more jokes,” She whispers. “I mean it”

“Then you tell him, and you stop,” Richie answers without missing a beat. “That’s how it works… you know that, right?”

“S-sure,” She stammers out. “But what if-”

“No, there’s no ‘what ifs’ about that one, (y/n/n),” He tells her seriously. “I’m not fucking around, if you want to stop then you-”

“Don’t worry, Rich,” She hums. “You don’t have to give me the consent talk, that’s not what I mean”

His brows furrow down at her, but she doesn’t see because her eyes are closed and her face is hidden in his shirt. For a second he’s distracted and wonders if he should be holding her like this when she has a boyfriend.

“What… do you mean, then?”

“What if I’m not… um…” She trails off, clearly embarrassed.

“Come on, don’t hold out on me now” Richie chuckles teasingly.

“... attracted to him… sexually?” She speaks like she’s unsure of her words, and it takes everything in Richie not to laugh out loud.

“That’s not something I can fix, hon” He tells her, and she can tell he’s holding back a laugh.

She’s silent, and Richie hopes she hasn’t fallen asleep, because knows it wouldn’t be right to share a bed for the night.

“I mean you’ve… done other stuff, right?” He asks, and even that seems wrong. He really shouldn’t even be talking to her about this, but it’s not his fault that he’s the only person she can talk to about this stuff.

(It’s maybe his fault that they slept together in the first place, but surely (y/n) can take some responsibility for that one)

“Not really” She says in a barely audible mumble.

“Not really?” He repeats, confused by the question. “All you’ve done is-”

“We’ve made out a couple times,” She tells him before she overthinks it and starts to feel uncomfortable. “That’s it”

“Clothes have never come off?” He asks with a chuckle he can’t contain.

(y/n) shakes her head.

“What the fuck is wrong with-”

“Richie…”

“-him?” He finished anyways, taking her by surprise that he wasn’t trying to bash on her. “Look, (y/n/n), it’s your relationship, you do what you want to do. But do you even see a future with him?”

She’s silent again.

And then she shuffles off the mattress, and heads for the door.

“(y/n),” Richie called with a sigh. “It’s just a question”

She held the open door in her hand, and looked back at him. He had a guilty but confused look on his face, and was propped up in ed, hoping she’d come back and finish talking.

“I’m tired, Richie,” She said softly. “Goodnight”

He let out a sigh, regretting having been so forward and pushing her out of her comfort zone. He hadn’t realized it when he’d asked, but he sure as hell could tell now.

“Goodnight” He said before she could shut the door behind her.

(y/n) was glad that Beverly was fast asleep on the pullout bed still, because all she did for the rest of the night is fuss to get comfortable, only to lay wide awake, overthinking.

Trying to figure out a future with her boyfriend in it. ___

[ oh feel our bodies grow, and our souls they play // yeah love i hope you know how much my heart depends ]

It was loud, it was so loud that the bass in the music playing was ringing in her ears, and making the liquid in her cup ripple. But that might have just been because she was stumbling around so much, trying to find somewhere to chill out for a minute in this sea of bodies.

Richie Tozier’s hand was holding on tightly to hers, pulling her behind him, acting as a guide through the chaos. But who was she kidding, he was the chaos. It was his house party after all.

How he’d even invited this many people, (y/n) wasn’t sure. It’s not like he knew everyone here, but word of mouth works fast in Derry, and a byob party that had half a dozen kegs and then some, not one student from their school missed it.

Even Stan was here… somewhere.

It was a bit hopeless to go looking for people in this crowd.

Finally Richie had taken them outside. There were still a couple dozen people hanging out in his backyard, but at least she could hear herself think, or take a step without bumping into someone.

“Thank god,” She huffed, pushing her hair out of her face and taking a drink. “I thought I was gonna get trampled to death in there”

Richie chuckles, eyes shining as he watched her finally relax a bit.

“You would’ve made this party worth talking about if you had” He teases her.

“I think it already is,” She replies with a small and nervous laugh. “The whole school’s here, Rich, I think people will be talking about it for a- who brought a kiddie pool?”

She cuts herself off as her eye catch a plastic pool, filled with eyes and the most beer she’s ever seen all at once. They definitely hadn’t brought it, although she’s surprised that none of them had thought of it when planning for this party.

“Don’t know” Richie shrugs, and then wanders over to grab them two bottles.

They’d been drinking soda all night, not wanting to get shit faced so they could keep an eye on things. But they were well past that, and at this point, whatever happens, happens.

She taps her glass against his in a quiet ‘clink’

“Cheers to you, Tozier” She says with a rather sweet smile, the kind that he compulsively smiles back at.

“And you” He replies, before tipping the bottle back and taking a long swig.

The thing about (y/n) was that… well, there was just this thing. An undeniable, unspoken, electric thing. There was something about her that drew Richie towards her like a magnet. Even tonight, he’d shown up at her side, and just like that they’d spent the last two hours together. She was such a lovely person, which was a rarity in this town.

He had a feeling that she owned his heart, even though he just had a silly teenage crush on her. But what had started as a silly crush, an admiration for her beauty, grew into an adoration of her entire being, her soul. He was falling for her, at a speed from the atmosphere, and he was bound to crash soon.

Her hand reaches out and seizes the sleeve of his denim jacket, yanking him towards her all in one motion. His heart’s beating out of his chest with anticipation, but as quickly as she’d grabbed him, she was shaking him out of his daze.

“You almost got knocked over,” She tells him, nodding to the pair of drunken boys with their arms slung around one another, stumbling around the backyard, trying to walk in sync. “You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, out of it” He answered with choppy words.

He finds the crease between her brows adorable.

“You only took one sip,” She jokes, poking at his bottle. “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” She asks, holding four fingers in front of his face while giggling.

Richie rolls his eyes, grabbing her hand to pull it out of his face.

But he doesn’t let go.

And for the next hour, as they talk and drink a little and dance, her hand remains in his. She didn’t say anything about it, which he’s silently thankful for. Maybe she feels safer when attached to him, knowing she’s not going to get sucked into the crowd and lost. Or maybe she just… wants to.

They’re dancing in the living room, to a song neither of them knew, with a hundred strangers, when she finally mentions it.

“You’re blushing!” She announces, albeit a bit tipsy.

There’s a grin on her face, and with her free hand she pokes at the pink on his cheeks.

“Cut that out- what’s with you and jabbing your fingers at me today?” He says, trying to brush it off and get her to forget about it. It doesn’t work.

She bursts into a fit of laughter, and her body leans towards his a bit as she does.

She only lets go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck and spin them around excitedly.

“You never blush,” She says. “So what’s on your mind?”

She sounds bubbly, as if his answer is amusing to her, and she’s impatient to hear it. Richie shakes his head, and wills the heat in his face to go away, but it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t, she’s standing a few inches away from him and staring at him with those round and curious eyes that he loves and-

“You” He responds with a shrug.

His voice is cool and casual as ever, but he’s losing his shit on the inside.

Her lips form an ‘o’ as she processes the single word. For a second he regretted speaking, which was kinda normal for him, but then her eyes lit up and she giggles with delightful bashfulness.

A breath of a laugh escapes his lips as he laughs nervously with her.

“You’re adorably funny” She says, and takes him by surprise when she leans up on her toes, cups her face in one hand, and presses a kiss to his other cheek.

When she lands back flat on her feet, she’s amused by the grin that she’d put on his face.

“Drinks?” She asks, and when he pulls a face, she clarifies, “Non-alcoholic drinks”

“Fine” He agrees, and when they head out of the living room, her hand reaches out and grabs his, slotting her fingers through his with ease.

He glances down to her when she does so, but she just gives him a big and innocent smile.

They find their friends in the kitchen. Beverly and Eddie are quite… shit faced, while Bill is drinking water and trying to get them to have some as well. From what Richie and (y/n) could tell, his efforts were useless.

“Let them be,” (y/n) says, ruffling up Eddie’s hair with her free hand, only to get swatted away. “They’ll pay the consequences in the morning”

Bill shrugs and hums in agreement, but he tries to get them to drink something.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Bev asks, pointing at Richie and (y/n’s) conjoined hands.

Richie starts to let go, but she squeezes his hand and smiles almost proudly at her drunk friend.

“Well I don’t wanna get lost” She says confidently.

Beverly shrugs, not having the attention span to ask further questions, or really care.

“Is that- are you- is that rootbeer?” Eddie asks, and he squints at the can in (y/n’s) hand, like he can’t see. “You’re at a- a fuckin’ party and you’re drinkin’ a soda?”

“Leave her alone Eddie Spaghetti” Richie chides, smacking the shorter boy on the shoulder.

“Yeah, Eddie Spaghetti” (y/n) adds in a mocking tone, and giggles to herself at the nickname.

Eddie hates it, but he’s drunk off his ass, so there’s not much he can do about it. He’ll try to throw hands with Richie tomorrow.

Bev starts to tell a story about a fight she saw on the front lawn. It’s missing parts, and she’s having a hard time remembering most of it, but they listen because it’s funny and interesting.

(y/n) sat herself on the kitchen counter, drink in one hand and Richie’s hand in the other, laughing along and encouraging her to continue. Even when she finishes her story, she’s not sure what happened, or who was even fighting, but it doesn’t matter.

“It’s l-late,” Bill says, eyeing the stove that reads 2:15. “I think I should go”

“You’re not staying the night?” (y/n) asked.

Richie’s parents would be gone for another day, leaving plenty of time for the Losers Club to hang out, and clean up the trashed house everyone else left behind.

“No, I sh-shouldn’t,” He says. “B-but I’ll come b-back tomorrow to help with th-the mess” He adds in a reassuring tone.

“Alright Billy,” (y/n) reaches her arms out towards him, prompting him to hug her goodbye. She embraces him tightly for a short moment. “See ya tomorrow”

He gives a small wave, and then offers a ride to Eddie and Bev. They both decide to keep drinking and crash at the house. He’s not surprised.

“I feel like dancing!” Beverly declares, and is out of the kitchen before anyone could say a word.

“Man is she fuckin’ wasted” Eddie chuckles.

Richie and (y/n) burst out laughing at the irony, but don’t tell him why it’s funny when he asks why they’re laughing their asses off.

Eddie winds up sitting on the kitchen floor, and then laying on it, cradling an empty bottle of vodka to his chest.

“You gonna sleep down there with him?” Richie asks (y/n), and gives the asmathic on the floor a gentle kick.

(y/n) giggles and shakes her head, and without thinking, reaches out to grab onto his hands again. With a small tug, he steps closer, almost standing between her open legs. But he doesn’t dare move that close.

“No…” She answers after a minute. “There’s no way in hell you’re making me sleep on a floor”

“Well, if the beds are all taken-”

“Richard Tozier” She says his name firmly, “If you don’t give me a bed to sleep in like a human fucking being I swear I will-”

“You’ll what, sweetheart?”

His voice drops an octave, and his head cocks to the side a bit as he stares at her skeptically, wondering what it was she was about to say next. When her mouth is left hanging open, he smirks a little.

“Come on (y/n/n), you’re not the threatening type,” He speaks at a normal volume again, but his closeness and the look on his face doesn’t fade. “Besides, you got nothing on me”

“Oh, I doubt that-” She tries to argue, but he cuts her off again.

“Just try to think of something, you can’t. My record’s squeaky clean”

He leans a bit closer with every word, but the movement is miniscule, and she’s probably the only person in the room who could have noticed it.

As soon as he eyes wander to his lips, they dart right back up, but it’s too late, he caught the glance, and his smirk widens.

Richie quirks a brow in question, like an asshole.

She sets her soda can on the counter next to her.

“You really value me so little that you’ll make me sleep, where, on the floor? The bathtub?”

“I think the tub is still occupied, actually,” Richie says. “And the floor, well, it’s covered in trash and…” He looks down to Eddie, who’s very close to passing out. “... more trash”

(y/n) hits his chest with the back of her hand.

“That was for Eddie” She says, and Richie laughs.

She’s got an offended look on her face, and fuck if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’s ever seen…

“I’m just saying sweetheart…” He shrugs his shoulders innocently. “Your sleeping options aren’t looking great. Pretty much everywhere is taken”

She’s quiet for a moment, and he can tell she’s hesitant, because she bites down on her lip, and she has a hard time keeping eye contact. He doesn’t rush her to say whatever’s on her mind, just stands there, unmoving, and waits.

“Show me a bed, then, Tozier”

It’s soft, whispered like a secret, and unsure.

They’re both still for a beat, each waiting for the other to back out.

But neither do.

So he offers her his hand, which she gladly takes before hopping off the counter and following closely behind him. Through the thinning crowd in the living room, and then up the stairs.

When they’re in the hall, he casts a look over his shoulder to her, and her eyes meet his instantly.

There’s something serious in them that he’s never seen in her before. Like she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it is.

Her free hand grabs onto the sleeve of his jacket, tethering herself to him. There was nowhere to get lost up here, everyone was downstairs. Except for the boy passed out in the bathtub, and Richie was fairly certain a couple passed out in his parent’s bedroom. But right now, they were alone.

He brings her to his room, carefully peeking in to make sure no one was in there, before letting her inside. He’s quick to shut and lock the door.

(y/n) gives him a look at the sound of the lock clicking, and his face flushes.

“I mean- it’d be weird if some frisky couple were to come in- while we’re in here” He defends his actions.

She just hums, and wanders over to his dresser, where his fish tank sat. She smiled at his goldfish before swirling the tip of her finger in the water.

Richie just admires her while she glances over his things. The picture frames, the trinkets and forgotten things he’s left there. She looks so natural standing there.

It wasn’t often that she was in his room, Richie’s house isn’t somewhere that everyone hangs out at, and (y/n) and Richie rarely hang out alone. It was kind of nice to have so much time with her tonight, just her. And still, he wanted it all the time.

She can feel his eyes on her, and when she turns around, she isn’t surprised that she was right.

She gives him a small smile, and clasps her hands together behind her back. It was a nervous habit she had, squeezing her hands together tightly, and Richie loved seeing her do it now.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” She says, desperately trying to fill the silence. “Hasn’t changed much though” She added in a quieter voice.

He doesn’t say anything, and it only amps up her nerves.

And then he strides over to her, rather quickly, and her breath caught in her throat as he’s suddenly towering over her, face a mere few inches away from hers.

She’s frozen, staring at him wide eyed and waiting for him to do something.

She’d thought he was going to kiss her, and when he didn’t, hear heart only beat harder in her chest.

“What?” She asks, wondering what he was doing if he wasn’t going to make a move.

“Nothing” He shakes his head, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing then?” She questions him again, voice a hundred times softer.

He gives her a playful smirk, and she almost frowns at him, annoyed by the teasing.

“I’m not doing anything” He hums with a shrug.

She rolls her eyes, done with the games, and steps away. She needs a breath. Or two. Two very deep breaths.

But before she can, Richie’s hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, pulling her back so rough that she collides into his chest, making them both stagger for a brief moment, until his lips crash down into hers.

She’s just gotten her balance back when he pulls away, staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him to stop.

Her lips are parted and she’s panting softly, still in shock, and her eyes flutter open to meet his.

She doesn’t tell him to stop, instead, she leans up on the tips of her toes to kiss him again, a much longer kiss that she wished he’d begun with.

They pulled away at the same time.

“We can’t tell the others!” They both rush out the words so fast, so panicked, but it disappears as they register the other agrees.

And then all at once they’re kissing again. His hands are gripping her hips, keeping her pressed completely against him, while hers are tangled in his hair, combing and gripping at his strands of curls.

Their lips move so feverishly, both desperate for every second to be fulfilling. They knew this was a once in a lifetime chance, that this was their only chance, and it had to be perfect.

They part for a few seconds, so (y/n) can catch her breath.

His nose prods against hers, before he takes her cin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head to the side so that he can trail a line of kisses along her jaw, tracing up to the sweet spot just below her ear.

He bit the soft skin, because he couldn’t help himself. She gasped softly, and then giggled at the delightful and ticklish feeling of his mouth against the spot. Her hands tighten a bit in his hair.

Eventually, once he’s left a decent purple mark on her neck, she tugs on his hair, pulling his lips back to hers needily. She’s delicate as she glides over the seam of his lips with her tongue. Richie isn’t so sweet as he gladly tangles his own tongue with hers.

When she’s the one to win the battle for dominance, she smirks against his lips. But Richie’s quick to retaliate, turning her suddenly, and pushing her backwards until she runs into the wall.

Her lips detach from his as she grunts at the surprise contact, and her eyes shoot up to his out of annoyance.

“Jesus, fucking watch it” She mutters.

She grabs the collar of his jacket and yanks his lips back down to hers anyways, already craving more contact.

Kissing Richie Tozier is exactly as she expected, or more accurately dreamed, it would be. Bliss. Passionate. Hot.

She hastily shoves his jacket down his shoulders, and then practically clawed the sleeves off of his arms. As soon as it was discarded, his hands slammed into the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. She loves it.

She wonders if he’s really gotten her addicted to his lips in a matter of two minutes.

After a few more kisses, she confirms that he has.

Her arms wrap around his neck and she can’t hold back a smile.

They part for a moment, and then rush to his bed.

(y/n’s) giggling as Richie crawls over her, one hand caressing her cheek while the other is pinned to the bed as not to crush her. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone sweetly.

“You’re sure?” He asks, suddenly worried that he was rushing her.

But she nods, excitedly, and pulls his face down so she can kiss him again.

“But like-” Richie pulls away. “You’re sure you’re sure? Like absolutely positive?”

“Richie,” She laughs, shaking her head a bit. “Yes”

And that’s how it happened. ___

[ but i guess that’s love, i can’t pretend… i can’t pretend... ]

(y/n) had known Richie pretty much her whole life. And they’d always gotten along, despite his big mouth and his tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. She found it endearing that he would call her hot stuff and then his face would go bright red, knowing he’d made a mistake.

But the thing was, that changed the day after they’d hooked up. They were still friends, they still hung out, and it wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was different. He didn’t call her cute names anymore, not even sweetheart. He stuck solely to his nickname for her.

She wasn’t sure if it was because of their incident, or because she was seeing someone. It often felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, unsure of what to say or do. It was like as soon as they’d crossed the line between friends and more than friends, she wasn’t sure how to go back to being just friends.

And she hadn’t ever thought of Richie as boyfriend material. Even when they’d hooked up, she hadn’t considered the idea of being with him romantically. Sure, he was attractive and funny and… charismatic, exciting, and somehow tender at the same time-”

“Babe..? Babe?”

(y/n) snapped back to reality, spinning around to see her boyfriend standing behind her. He gave a short laugh before nodding to the dish in her hand that she must have been scrubbing for a few minutes now.

“Daydreaming?” He asks, while she bashfully set the very clean plate on the counter.

“Something like that” She replied, and went on to cleaning the next dish.

They’d had a nice dinner, one they both prepared. She thought it would be fun to cook with him, maybe they would even listen to music and dance around the tiled floor. But her boyfriend wasn’t that kind of guy, and this wasn’t a romantic comedy.

Richie would dance in the kitchen with me-

“So!” (y/n) spoke, a little too loud as she tried to rid her own thoughts from her head. “Movie?”

Her boyfriend grinned, and gave her a thumbs up before leaving the kitchen and heading to the living room to pick out a good movie for them to watch.

(y/n) went back to distracting herself with doing the dishes. But her pesky thoughts kept on getting in the way of her task.

Thinking of Richie in a romantic light made her feel dazed. He was Richie. Trashmouth Tozier, the boy she grew up with that was infamous for trying to ride his bike off the cliffside at the quarry. He wasn’t someone you had a crush on, he was someone you always had a dumb story about.

But besides that, it simply wasn’t fair of her to think of him this way. They had both agreed that what they had was a one time thing, and it didn’t mean anything to either of them. They were just friends, and that was all either of them wanted to be.

At least, that’s what she’d always told herself.

But when she thought back on last summer, all she could remember was how badly she wanted him to kiss her that whole night. And when he finally had… it felt like she was flying.

Drying the last dish, she left it on the counter, and forced herself to relax on the couch with her boyfriend.

Whatever movie he’d picked, she’d never heard of, and it only took seven minutes of watching it for her to realize why. It was boring.

She was so damn near close to passing out, even though he seemed excited to share it with her.

“Hey,” She hummed after half an hour of forcing herself to stay awake. He hummed in response, but didn’t look away from the television.

So she took matters into her own hands, and turned his head so she could kiss him.

She poured all of the passion that she could into the kiss, hoping to convey that she wanted him, and she wanted him now.

But how could she do such a thing when it wasn’t true? She simply wasn’t convincing enough. Not to him, or herself.

Defeated, she pulled away from him, and by the look on his face, she knew that he sensed her disappointment. Which was ironic, because he had never been in sync with her emotions in the last four and a half months they’d been together.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

There was a deep frown on her face, and her eyes were so apologetic that he just knew what was coming next.

“I’m sorry” She mumbled out.

“(y/n)...?” He was hoping that by some miracle she wasn’t about to break up with him.

“I can’t do this anymore” She finished weakly, voice cracking a bit as her throat burned with tears.

“What do you mean?” He asked. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She didn’t say anything, just shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep herself from crying. It would be pathetic if she broke up with him and she was the one to cry about it.

“Whatever it is I can work on it, we can fix it-”

“No, you can’t-”

“Yes I can-”

“You can’t fix this!” She shouted, not meaning to come off as angry, but her emotions had flustered her and it was making her frustrated. “Because there’s nothing to fix, there’s nothing here” She clarified, her hands flying between them.

“What do you mean there’s nothing here?” He asked, sounding broken. For a moment, she felt bad for saying something so cruel. “Is there someone else?”

And then her guilt disappeared.

“What? Of course not-”

“Well there- there has to be!”

“Well there isn’t!” She shouted back. “Jesus Christ, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t feel anything, anything, for you! I thought with time that I could learn to love you, but I haven’t. There’s no spark-”

He seized forward, taking her face in his hands and kissing her frantically.

But just as soon as his mouth crushed over hers, she shoved his shoulders with all the force she could muster, and leapt off of the sofa.

She was stunned to silence at first, surprised that he’d done something so dramatic and… disgusting.

“I’m done,” She said, heading for the door, and putting on her shoes and coat with lightning speed. “Don’t fucking call me- don’t talk to me at school, I’m done”

He tried to call after her, but she slammed the door behind her as she stormed out, and ran down the sidewalk, just in case he had the idiotic idea to chase after her.

She slowed at the end of the block, mentally striking herself upside the head at the thought. Of course he wouldn't chase after her. It would be an act of passion for him to pursue her, and he would be in denial to think he was any more in love with her than she was with him.

It dawned on her that she’d been in denial for the past four months for thinking she could learn to love him. You can’t learn to love anybody, it has to come naturally. And there wasn’t one natural thing about their relationship.

She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm in the chilly december air, and walked the rest of the way home. She’d had enough of today, and just wanted to crawl into bed, and try not to cry. ___

When the doorbell rang, Richie ignored it. Surely his parents would get it, and he could stay in bed.

When it rang again, he shoved his pillow over his head.

It wasn’t until the third time the sound rang that he remembered his parents were at an event in Augusta tonight.

So with a groan, and the realization that whoever it was, wasn’t going to go away, he dragged himself out of bed, and down the stairs.

It was almost midnight, who the fuck was a the door? He decided if it was some freshman ding-dong ditching him, that he’d run them down and ruin their shit.

When he whipped open the door, he also opened his can of whoop ass on the unsuspecting freshman.

“Do you realize that it’s the middle of the fucking ni-”

He shut up real fast when he realized it was (y/n) standing there, who now looked incredibly taken off guard to have been greeted so harshly.

“(y/n)?”

It was only then that he realized she was crying softly.

“Oh- oh my god, I’m sorry- I thought you were-”

“It’s fine” She said, and then sniffled quietly.

“What- what are you-”

“I’m sorry, it’s not r-right of me to show up in the middle of the night,” She whimpered a little bit, and wiped her sleeve over her cheeks to get rid of her tears. “I should go home-”

“No,” Richie reached out, taking her wrist and tugging her inside. “Come in, stay” He rushed the words out while shutting the door, not wanting her to leave, and especially not like this.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her own shivering. She didn’t even want to look at Richie while crying, but at the same time-

“So what’s going on-?”

Before he could even finish talking, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

Richie stumbled a bit from the sudden force of her hug, but wrapped his arms around her nonetheless and hugged her tightly.

It was obvious that she was trying to stop crying in front of him, but she just couldn’t help it.

“Did something happen?” He asked, but received no answer. “Are you hurt?”

He could feel her tears seeping into the fabric of his tee shirt.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He called softly, and pulled her away to look at her. She kept her eyes shut, which made him chuckle, but eventually she looked up at him. “Come on, (y/n/n),” He hummed. “Talk to me”

She took in a deep breath, and Richie mentally prepared himself for whatever was going to come next. It must be serious if she came to him instead of Beverly, or Eddie.

“I couldn’t have sex with him” She murmured.

Richie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and confusion, and a feeling he wasn’t quite sure of. He never would have guessed that’s what had her so distraught.

“Um…”

“I know,” (y/n) cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks again. “It’s pathetic, I’m so pathetic!”

“(y/n),” Richie said, setting his hands on her shoulders so she would calm down. “You’re not- where is this coming from? Why are you so upset about this?”

It took her a minute to catch her breath, and her tears hadn’t really stopped flooding, but at least she could speak again.

“I broke up with him” She admitted.

Richie’s eyes widened, and again, she’d done what he’d least expected. Her eyes were darting between his, trying to figure out what he was thinking. But he looked so shocked, she couldn’t tell.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” She asked in a murur, her hands resting against his chest, and her body gravitating towards his a bit more from the sensitive question.

“I…”

He was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with her, his brain moving far too fast and his train of thought going in too many different directions for him to comprehend what he even thought.

“You do, don’t you?” (y/n) asked defeatedly. “I should’ve tried harder- maybe I could have loved him-?”

“What? (y/n), no, don’t think like that,” He scolded her gently. “If you didn’t feel anything, then that’s it, that’s the end, it didn’t work”

She stares down at her feet.

“(y/n)...” Richie sighed, lifting her chin softly with his hand. “Did you even like him?”

She shrugged her shoulders, which was answer enough.

“Oh, (y/n),” His thumb stroked gently against her jaw, before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her again. “If you didn’t like him there was never even a chance of you falling in love- that’s just not how it works sweetheart”

(y/n) grabbed the back of his shirt in her fists, just wanting to hold onto him for a few moments longer.

“How’s it work?” She mumbled into his shoulder after embracing for a few moments.

“Well first of all, you don’t learn to do it, it just happens,” He chuckles, and his hands begin to rhythmically rub her back. “And you won’t find them boring. That guy was a sack of fucking potatoes (y/n/n) I don’t know what you were doing with him-”

“Yeah yeah I get it,” She cut him off before he could go on. “What else?” Her voice was so soft, so full of curiosity for where these kind words were coming from, that she just had to know what more Richie thought about the subject.

“Well…” He hummed, still rubbing her back as he thought. “You typically enjoy their company, more than anyone else’s, even if you won’t admit it,” He was thinking out loud. “And they’ll always be the prettiest thing in your eyes- even when they won’t stop crying all over you” He teased.

She glared up at him, and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“Come on, be real,” She said. “He was nice, and cute, and he really liked me, why wasn’t there a spark?”

He shook his head at her.

“Like I said. Can’t learn to love someone, and you can’t force what isn’t there,” He shrugged. “I’m sorry though. You’re clearly bothered by it”

She wanted to explain that she wasn’t bothered by the breakup at all. She was bothered by the mixup in her feelings. By what she thought to be true- but wasn’t quite sure yet.

“You want tea? Or something?” He offered after she hadn’t spoken for a few beats.

“No,” She shook her head, and then stepped back from him. “A blanket would be nice though? I had to walk the whole way here and it’s freezing”

Richie chuckled, and nodded.

“‘I’ll get one from upstairs. Be right back”

He headed off rather quickly, taking the steps two at a time to get a blanket from his room.

The one time she’d stayed overnight, she’d really liked one of his- and he’d know, because she hogged it, and he had to wake her up to get her to share. So he figured that one would do fine.

At the sound of a soft knocking at his door frame, he turned to see (y/n) standing there.

Her eyes were wandering around his room, mapping it out like it was her first time here. However, she hadn’t been here since…

He didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks when her gaze landed on his bed, the covers messed up from his attempts to sleep earlier. And then finally, she looked at him.

“Oh,” She smiled, and walked into the room, taking the blanket from his hands. “You remembered” She said with a small laugh as she wrapped it tightly around herself.

It was still a little bit warmed, and smelled so distinctly like Richie, it made her want to melt into it. And she nearly did for a moment.

“Well how could I you almost made me freeze to death that night” He muttered teasingly.

“Fuck off, I did not” She played back, but her voice was much gentler than his.

He gave her a look as if to say ‘you did though’, which she only rolled her eyes to.

Deciding it’d be best to ignore him, she walked over to his dresser to excitedly play with his fish. It didn’t do much, but it did swim back and forth in front of her finger, which was amusing enough.

“You… want to watch a movie?” Richie asked.

He didn’t want her to leave, but he didn’t know how to offer her to stay the night either.

“Sure” She answered, and followed him downstairs.

Richie made her pick the movie, that way whatever they watched she wouldn’t lose interest in.

“What?” She’s asked when he tried to leave the room for popcorn.

“I said pick whatever you want so you actually watch it and enjoy it” Richie repeated himself, and was in the kitchen before he could see her face change expressions.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and all she could do was stare at where he stood with his back to her. She didn’t even bother looking at his DVD collection, and followed him into the kitchen.

“You want me to pick a movie I like?” She asked him.

Richie gave her a weird look over his shoulder as she set the timer on the microwave.

“What? Yeah” He answered.

“But you’ll hate it,” She said matter-of-factly. “It’s a chick flick, it’s real cheesy, not even Eds would watch it with me”

“Okay?” Richie repeated. “You setting me up to hate it?”

She stared at him skeptically, and Richie had a similar look on his face, but only because he was very confused.

“Just pick a movie, (y/n/n), anyone’s fine” He chuckled.

He pulled the bag of popcorn out of the mic when it beeped, and dumped it’s contents into a large bowl. When he turned back around, (y/n) was still standing there. His brows furrowed, and he popped a kernel into his mouth.

“Would you dance with me?” She asked him.

Her volume was so soft he almost didn’t catch what she’d said, but when he processed the words, he was sure he’d heard her wrong.

“What?”

“Would you dance with me?” She repeated, a bit more clearly. “If I asked?”

“Is…. that what you want to do?” Richie spoke unsurely, trying to figure out what part of the breakup process ‘dancing’ would fall under. He shoved more popcorn into his mouth.

“I just wanna know” She shrugged.

“I mean, sure, but then the popcorn would get cold, it’s only good when it’s-”

“Richie” She mumbled, and by some miracle he actually heard her, and stopped rambling. He knows from the way she’s staring at him, and the sudden softness in her voice that something’s up. He waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“What?” He feels like he’s lost, because he really has no idea what’s going on with her tonight. This breakup had really thrown her for a loop, he supposed

“Nothing” She shook her head, and before he could question her about her strange behavior, snatched the popcorn bowl and made a break for the living room.

When they got settled on the sofa and the movie (y/n) picked began to play. They were sat side by side, the bowl of popcorn separating them. She tucked her feet up underneath her in an attempt to be more comfortable, and kept on fussing with the blanket. It was like no matter how many times she readjusted, she just couldn’t get settled.

Eventually, she sighed, and looked over at Richie.

Low and behold, he was completely wrapped up in the plot of the movie, and hadn’t noticed a thing. (y/n) smiled at this, loving that he’d actually gotten into her lame romantic comedy. She leaned her head back on the cushion as she admired him. He was so serious when he was focused on something, his jaw set in place, eyes trained on the screen. It was so cute how drawn into the movie he really was.

Something happened that made him laugh, and he turned to (y/n) to crack a joke about it, but whatever he was about to say was lost on him when he caught her eyes already locked on him.

“Would you do it again?” She asked, before he could think of anything to say. He doesn’t have to ask her to clarify what she means, because he knows, he can tell by the way she’s studying him. “Ever?” She adds in a mumble after he’s been quiet for just a beat too long.

“Well, that’s a trick question now isn’t it?” He chuckles, but she shakes her head.

“No,” She speaks softly, “It’s not, I’m just wondering,”

She’s looking up at him so innocently that he wonders what sparked this question. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about it every minute of every day for the past four and a half months or so. He just didn’t think it ever crossed her mind. They had sworn to each other that it was a one time thing, no pesky strings or feelings attached. And Richie had thought she’d stuck to that promise pretty well- mostly because not a week later she’d gotten asked out, and then she dated the guy for a while.

“There’s no wrong answer, Rich,” She giggles, a nervous little sound that was the result of her heart doing backflips in her chest. “Really”

His eyes flicker between her impatient ones, testing to see if that were really true.

“Kind of” He says.

Her brows furrowed, signaling that there apparently was a wrong answer, and he’d said it.

“Kind of-?”

“Well, there’s a lot I’d do differently” He muses with a shrug of his shoulders, before she could get upset and ask him just what the hell ‘kind of’ means.

She angles her body a bit more towards his, waiting eagerly to hear what he has to say. But he gives her a confused look.

“What would you do differently?” She asks. She sounds restless, and Richie chuckles to himself. “Come on, really”

“For starters, I wouldn’t have chosen to do it at my own houseparty. Someone busted the coffee table you know, and I blame you for that-”

“What else?” She asks abruptly.

“Alright well,” Richie huffs, deciding there was no turning back now, because she was already more than eager to hear what he was thinking. “Also probably should’ve been a little more sober, just a little,” She laughed quietly, but didn’t speak so that he’ll keep talking. “And I would’ve grabbed an extra blanket, had I known you were a blanket hogger”

She laughs again, and this time he laughs with her. It’s a sweet moment, for it being so vulnerable.

“And I would’ve made sure you didn’t go in the morning” He confesses, in the midst of their laughter. (y/n’s) laughter stops instantaneously.

“What?” She murmurs, like she’d heard him wrong, because she must have heard him wrong.

“Yeah,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have let you go”

She blinks, stunned.

“You wanted me to stay?” She asks, a sweet little whisper that was bound to make everything come crashing down.

“Of course I did,” Richie chuckles. “I’d be an idiot to let you- I was an idiot to let you go. I hated that feeling,”

She’s silent again, her lips parted as the more he explained himself, the more surprised she was.

“It felt like- like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life- and trust me sweetheart, sleeping with you was a miracle- but if I could do it over again I wish that I could’ve...um…”

She’s waiting, hanging on to every word he spoke. She doesn’t realize that she’s leaning closer to him, too antsy to wait for him to find his voice.

“(y/n/n) if I’m being honest then I would’ve told you how I felt- about you- that night”

“How you felt about me?” She repeats in disbelief, and then sits upright on the couch, realizing they’re only a few inches away from one another.

Richie watches her as she takes the popcorn bowl and sets it to the side. And then leans back in towards him again, giving him her undivided attention.

“And how did you feel about me?” She murmurs.

Her hands set on his wrists, grasping onto them softly as his hands reach out to wrap around her waist.

“How didn’t I feel- Jesus I liked you so much I lost my fucking mind when you wanted me too”

Once he’s holding her firmly, she lets go of his hands to rest her palms on his shoulders, tilting up towards him to be more at his height. Even sat on the couch Richie practically towered over her.

“I didn’t know it was more to you than a quick fuck” She hums. Her voice is too sweet to be saying something so filthy, and it makes him chuckle just a bit.

He couldn’t help but tug her hips forwards, small prod really, but she took the bait and swung her leg over his lap.

“There was nothing quick about it sweetheart,” He teases, and as she situates herself on his lap, he releases one of his hands from her waist to gently trail his fingers over her throat, until his hand settles against the side of her neck. She’s blushing, but she’s smiling with anticipation.

He pulls her towards him a bit, and the tip of her nose presses against his cheek, her lips barely ghosting his. When her eyes flickered shut, Richie smirks

“And you were never a quick fuck”

She leans in, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and never stop. There was more electricity between them in this moment than she’d ever felt with her ex, and the realization made her feel like she was alive again.

Just as her moment of liberation is about to happen, the doorbell rings.

Richie brushes it off and cups her cheek, leaning in to kiss her anyways, but then his visitor started screaming.

“Richiieeee!” The distinct voice of Eddie Kaspbrack rings out from the other side of the door. “Dude! Open up! I got some drama for you!”

Richie and (y/n) turn to look at each other, equally confused.

“Let’s just pretend he’s not there” Richie says, making her giggle as he finally tries to kiss her.

And then Eddie lets himself in.

“I’m coming in!” He announces, and shuts the door behind him. “You’re not gonna believe this! (y/n) broke up with-”

It doesn’t surprise the couple on the couch when Eddie stops talking, and stares wide eyed and open mouthed.

“What the fuck is going on here!?” He’s screaming, which also isn’t a surprise, but it’s very upsetting.

(y/n) calmly slides off of Richie’s lap, and he lets go of his hold on her.

“Nothing” They say at the same time, unconvincingly.

“You were on his lap-” Eddie accuses.

“I-”

“You were kissing-!”

“No-?” Richie tries.

“You guys have been fucking this whole time!” He screeches.

“No!” Richie and (y/n) speak simultaneously again.

“Wait,” (y/n) walks over to Eddie. “How did you know I broke up with-”

“He called me” Eddie shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah, he was trying to call you, but you never picked up. Clearly you weren’t home, because you were here, letting Richie get in your pants- jesus fuck (y/n) I thought you had better standards-”

“Stop it” (y/n) hissed, before frustratedly running her hands through her hair.

Richie shot up from the couch, walking over in hopes of convincing her to sit back down and relax again. But she shrugged off his hand and continued to pace around between him and Eddie.

“Very uncool, dickwad” Richie muttered to Eddie, who gave him an exasperated look and flipped him off.

“Why’d you come here then?” (y/n) spoke up.

“Um… huh?” Eddie played stupid.

“Why’d you come here? If my ex called you looking for me, why’d you come to tell Richie the news?”

Eddie and Richie shared a look, only making the girl more confused.

“I- well I thought you’d be here, you know, for support-”

Eddie shut up when the girl narrowed her eyes in disbelief. He was never a good liar, and (y/n) had a pretty good bullshit detector.

“This isn’t important,” Eddie shook his head. “What’s important is that he’s heartbroken, and looking for y-”

“I don’t care,” (y/n) said with a humorless chuckle as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t fucking care! He’s the worst, and he’s insane to think that he was ever in love with me. Had a real boring way of expressing it-”

“Uh, I’m not here to tell you to get back together with him” Eddie said before she could yell anymore.

“What are you here for, then?” (y/n) asked.

“I could ask you the same thing” Eddie shoots back, and smirks victoriously between the two.

Richie’s just standing there, knowing better than to open his mouth. If he did, something bad would slip and he knew it, so he stared down at the ground.

(y/n) puckers her lips, casting a glance to Rich before back to Eddie.

“Well?” The asthmatic boy asks. “What the fuck were you guys up to?”

“None of your business,” Richie says before (y/n) has the chance to say anything. “You should go, Eds, I’ll call you tomorrow. We’re busy”

“With what?” Eddie’s practically daring Richie to confess.

“We’re watching a movie, don’t make me fucking kick you out”

Eddie rolls his eyes, bored with the lack of drama, and then heads for the door.

As soon as he closes it, he whips it open again, pointing an accusatory finger at the pair left standing there, as if he’d caught them in the act.

“Go, Eds” They both say, with the utmost annoyance in their voices.

This time when he left, they both watched the door, as if waiting for him to jump back into the room again. When it was clear he’d actually gone this time, (y/n) let out a sigh of relief.

She looked at Richie, and then back to the couch, where the movie, the popcorn bowl, and her blanket were left unattended.

“I should probably g-”

“You wanna stay the night?” Richie asked before she could finish her sentence, and her eyes shot up to his.

“Really?” She asked in disbelief.

Richie just nodded, and so she hesitantly nodded back.

“Okay” She agreed softly.

“I’ll find something for you to sleep in,” He told her. “You can finish the movie if you want” And with that he headed up the stairs.

At this point, she was more confused than ever. She had no idea where her and Richie stood now, the line between friendship and something… else… was so warped in her mind that she couldn’t tell how he felt anymore.

Richie came back down a few minutes later, finding her sat on the couch with the movie paused and the popcorn bowl in her lap. He grinned as he handed her a long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants that looked very soft.

After changing quickly in the bathroom, she concluded they were the coziest things she’d ever worn. And Richie’s scent and laundry detergent lingered in them, making every inhale of breath she took be inviting.

When she came back out, Richie was on the couch, just waiting. His back was turned to her, and she could tell he was drumming his hands on his legs, a frequently done nervous habit of his.

She stood there for a moment, too anxious to walk over and sit with him like nothing had happened in the last half hour. Even though with everything that’s happened, her heart was beating a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Richie must’ve realized she was there, because he turned and made a face as if to ask why she was just standing there.

His expression softened though when his eyes landed on her figure. She looked so goddamn cute in his clothes that were just a bit too big for her. And by just a bit, I mean the sleeves kept falling over her hands and the waistband of the sweatpants had probably been rolled three times to keep the fabric from barely touching the ground.

He thought he was gonna have a stroke.

“You gonna come sit, sweetheart?” He finally spoke, “Or just stand there and look pretty all night?”

She laughs, and the tension in the room thins out a little as she makes her way over to sit with him again. Richie plays the movie again, and just like before, gets sucked right into it.

(y/n) sort of watches it, but has little attachment to what’s going on. Her mind is too busy processing everything, there was no capacity to keep an eye on a film as well.

The popcorn bowl is empty, so she can’t distract herself with eating. And she’s already tapping her fingers on her knee to a made up beat in her mind. How Richie is able to actually watch this movie right now is beyond her.

“(y/n)?” He asks, and she realizes he’s been staring at her for a while, trying to get her attention. She hums in response. “Do you want me to shut off the movie?”

Her eyes are wide as they meet his.

“W-why?” She stammers out.

“Because you aren’t paying attention at all,” He chuckles. “Are you tired? It is like… one in the morning”

“Uh- yeah, I-I guess” She stumbles over her words again, and balls up the fabric of her blanket in her hands.

He gives her a dorky little smile, and then stands to turn off the tv. She watches him grab the empty bowl before leaving the room.

She gets up to follow him into the kitchen, but he waved her off.

“You should go up to bed,” He says. “I’ll finish up down here”

She doesn’t know what else to say, so she follows the instructions.

It dawns on her that she hasn’t told her parents that she won’t be coming home tonight, but as she gets situated in Richie’s bed with her new favorite blanket, she just can’t seem to care. She decides a lecture when she comes home tomorrow is worth it.

She’s under all the covers, and her face is buried deep into a pillow when Richie finally comes up. He smirks at how settled she’s already gotten.

“You sleeping already?” He asks quietly, and her eyes open to smile at him.

“No, ‘m waiting” She hums, before snuggling her face back into her pillow.

“Waiting?” He asks, and walks closer to hear her better.

“Mhm”

“For… Santa?”

“For you, dummy,” She giggles softly, and then makes a grabby hand towards him. “Hurry up”

He laughs, and shakes his head at her, before kneeling onto the bed.

“I kinda thought I should sleep on the-”

“In here,” She whispers, hand finding his wrist and latching onto it. “With me, please” She adds in a much softer voice, like she’s embarrassed to ask, and he knows that she is.

“Okay…” Richie hesitantly gets under the covers. “As long as that doesn’t bother you”

“It didn’t before” She replies casually.

Her eyes are closed, but he smiles warmly at the comment. He thinks she’s falling asleep, but he was wrong, because her hand trailed from his wrist so that her fingertips were pressed into his palm.

“Richie?” She calls quietly.

He hums.

Her eyes open, and she squirms a little closer to him, finding comfort in the heat he radiated.

Her fingers slot into the spaces between his perfectly, and she grasps his hand tight.

“You weren’t a quick fuck for me either,” She admits gently.

He can see in her eyes that she’s uncertain, that she’s nervous to say anything, so he squeezes her hand to reassure her that she can tell him anything.

“And I wanted you long before that night, I just… um…” She licks her lips anxiously before continuing. “I didn’t think that you uh… actually wanted me, you know, like, more than…” She doesn’t finish her thought, but she doesn’t have to.

Richie gives her a smile, and then reaches his free hand out to brush his knuckles over her cheek. She smiles back at the comforting touch.

“You’ll stay in the morning?” He whispers, and she nods, brows drawn together as her smile widens. “Good” He breathes out in relief.

They lean in simultaneously, and their lips touch in a soft and sweet kiss. (y/n) relishes in how her lips seemed to have his committed to memory, and she melts against him once again.

She pushes forward so that her body is flush against his, and her free hand is holding his shirt in a fist. She’s filled with more love and lust and happiness that a girl can be, practically overflowing with it, even.

Richie pulls away too soon for her liking, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear tenderly before meeting her gaze.

“If anyone asks,” He tells her, “That was our first kiss”

(y/n) giggles, and nods her head before kissing him sweetly again.

“Okay” She agrees.

His fingers comb through her hair for a few moments, and he contemplates laying here, like this, with her, for the rest of his life. The quiet moment is so serene, so perfect, that he can’t imagine ever being happier than he is right now.

(y/n) whispers something, but it’s so soft that he only catches her lips moving.

“What?” He muses, and instantly there’s a pink blush blooming across her cheeks. “What?” He asks again, this time chuckling at her bashfulness.

“I love you…” She murmurs, only darkening her blush.

Richie pulls her into his chest, wrapping her up in his arms as he cradles her close for the night.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He responds with a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s do it right this time, okay?”

“M’kay” She hums back delightedly, already beginning to fall asleep in his arms.

It took months of agony and confusion to get here, but it couldn’t be clearer now. This is what love was supposed to feel like. She hadn’t learned to love before because that’s simply not how it works. Her heart already belonged to someone else, and she hardly even knew it. But now, it and she were all his, and he’d take good care of them.

[ i guess that’s love, i can’t pretend. ]

___

taglist: @fiantomartell @lemonypink @darling-egg

xoxo ~ jordie

#it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #richie rosier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #bill hader

234 notes · View notes

orangeseoks · 4 years ago

Text

Trouble Maker // j.jk

part one - part two here

[ disclaimer! ]

this is of pure fiction and is NOT to be taken seriously!

genre ;; fluff, smut, angst | hybrid au

pairing ;; jungkook x reader, hybrid!jk x reader, (kinda) namjoon x reader.

notes ;; jungkook is a horny mf, reader is a virgin *cOuGh*, mentions of abuse, a few fights happen here and there, namjoon is a complete dork, (y/n) and namjoon are besties uwu, eventual smut, jk randomly finds porn, masterbation, (y/n) fights with her family + daddy issues, highschool is hard, jk has a virgin kink, surprise heats, jk has wet dreams (ovo; ).

warning ;; there may be quite a bit of fob in here, idk

[ unedited ]

"Wake up will you," a voice blares from beside me. I quickly jolt awake and look around me, "y-yes?" Rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes I stretch in my spot and sigh, glancing at the workbook I'd dumped so carelessly onto the floor. "You're such an idiot, why do I even bother with you?" Namjoon answers with a laugh.

"Namjoon, seriously? I'd only passed out, geez." Rubbing my temple, I stand up, a slight giggle passing my lips as I start collecting the few items I'd scattered around me. I'm normally at home around this time, not often do I sleep during studies at Namjoon's.

I gently pack my things into my bag and make my way to the front door, slipping my shoes on. "Do you want a ride home?" He asks, tucking his car keys into the pocket of his pants.

Shaking my head I give Namjoon a soft smile, "I'll walk, it's okay."

"You sure? It's almost half past eleven," I merely nod and open the door. "If anything I'll take the bus home, see you!" Waving the older male goodbye, I run outside of his small house and down the street.

Namjoon, he's a lot older than me, like a lot. He's an adult and I'm still a student, many would think he's my tutor or something - but he's just a long time friend. Weird?

Humming to myself, I kick a stone on the pavement before I turn down an alleyway between two houses. This was my usual route home from Namjoon's place, it was a neat shortcut. It was always the best way to avoid a long walk, sometimes even people, I guess it’s just a fast escape. When I see the road come into view my smile widens, just across the street was a small corner store and I was dying to eat something.

Crossing the silent street, I make my way towards the store, accidentally inhaling the cigarette smoke from the group of males outside the laundromat. Coughing, I enter and begin to roam the few isles they had, grabbing a few snacks here and there. The smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the air but it wasn't as strong as it was outside.

"Is this all?" The cashier asks me, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Yep," is all I respond with, taking out my wallet to pay for everything. "Which school do you go to?" The woman suddenly asks me whilst she packs everything into a re-usable bag, "oh um.. that school just down the street, I forgot the name." I let out a faint chuckle, my cheeks growing a faint pink.

"Ah, my daughter goes there too." With a warm smile the woman hands me everything, "be careful walking home it's cold out."

"Thank you," bowing slightly I exit the store, that disgusting smell hitting me like a truck. Scoffing, I cover my nose and cross the street in a hurry.

A little before I got home, I'd decided to stop at the bus stop just a house away from mine. And now here I am, sitting there as I eat the sandwich I'd purchased. Watching the few cars that pass by me, "are you jumping busses too?" Flinching, I turn around to face the voice - swallowing my mouthful in a hurry. "N-No, I'm just sitting here to eat." Smiling shyly I fold the parchment paper that once was wrapped around my sandwich, lowering my gaze to the concrete below my feet.

"At midnight? That's new," the voice adds. Nodding I shift awkwardly in my spot, "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm only waiting for the bus."

"S-Sorry, I'm not used to this sort of thing."

"Me, social interaction or bus jumping?" The voice asks playfully, a small laugh passing through their words. "All of them I guess," embarrassed with myself I mentally facepalm - slouching in my spot. "Don't be, I'm only dressed differently." Confused as to why they've pointed that out, I glance up at them, noticing how they really are dressed differently. They're wearing a hat, baggy clothes and a .. collar? Or maybe it's a choker?

I clear my throat and nod, "not really. I mean, other people dress like that."

"Yeah well I'm not like other people," the voice answers, headlights hitting the both of us. My eyes widen when I see a glimpse of the persons face, they're beautiful. "Here's my bus," they finish - standing and entering the large vehicle. Leaving me and my lonesome once more, shaking my head I stand also, grabbing both my bags and walking the remainder of my way home.

Sighing, I look up at my steep driveway, never getting over how tiring it is to walk up it. "I'm home," I mutter sarcastically. A fake smile painting my features as I walk up it. When I reach the top of my driveway, I begin shaking open my gate, not failing to notice the obvious movement in the bushes behind my fishpond.

Furrowing my eyebrows together, I walk toward the bushes closing the front gate behind me and then pushing open an entrance for me, so I’m able to pass through the crowded greenery. "..Hello?" I ask the darkness of night, sighing at my actions I look around the area and see nothing. That is until I spot two perky ears twitching. "Oh-" Kneeling down, I move the rock the animal is hiding behind, spotting the small thing and frowning at its appearance.

"Poor thing, let's get you inside." I gently pick up the bunny and cradle it in my arms despite the constant thrashing it makes. I hum at this, rubbing gently behind its ears whilst I take out my keys, I unlock the unit house I'm living in and switch on the lights, placing the animal onto my kitchen table to examine it.

The poor bunny was coated in thick mud, a deep slash in one of their back legs, along with a few other cuts on them. “Lets clean you up, yeah?” With a gentle smile, I pick the bunny up and walk over to the kitchen - filling the sink with warm water.

“You’re safe now little bunny,” I affirm, turning the tap off and placing the tiny animal into the shallow pool of water. A small chuckle leaves my lips, watching as it squirms slightly when coming in contact with the warm liquid. Smiling, I get myself a cup and collect a bit of water to pour over the top of the bunny. Combing my fingers through its slightly over grown locks, I untangle a few of the knots in its fur before beginning to scrub the mud away.

I let out a faint laugh when the little bunny presses itself into the palm of my hand, “do you like me washing your fur?” As if it understands me, their ear twitches and they hop into my free palm. Smiling, I wet its ears, softly massaging the fur with my fingers, being sure not to apply too much pressure knowing how sensitive rabbit ears can be.

“I’m almost finished little bunny,” giggling, I wash away any extra muck before transferring the small animal to a clean tea towel, wrapping it neatly around the bunny’s small frame and returning to the kitchen table to dry it. Humming, I eventually finish drying the bunny and run my hands along its damp fur, “sit tight I’ll be right back.”

And I was, I’d left and come back in the span of only three minutes. A first aid kit in hand, sitting in front of the bunny I notice how it awakes from what I’m assuming was their sleep. “I’m going to treat your leg alright, it may hurt so I’m sorry in advanced.” With a concentrated sigh, I look at the injured leg, feeling somewhat relieved to see it looking better now that its been cleaned of whatever gunk was in it.

I apply a bit of an ointment onto the little bunny’s leg before wrapping it in a bandage, “jang! All done!” Clapping my hands together, I let a grin fall onto my lips whilst I pick the bunny up, pulling it into my chest for hug. “You’re such a good little bunny! I’m so proud of you!”

With a giggle I glance at the clock next to the tv, instantly frowning when I notice how late it is. I should be sleeping, but instead I’m cuddling with a stray rabbit. Sighing, I comb my bangs back and make my way to my bedroom, turning the lounge light off behind me.

“You can sleep with me tonight hun,” crawling into bed I place the small bunny into the arms of one of my teddy bears, smiling when it curls into the plush toy. Yawning I bid the bunny goodnight and fall asleep myself.

As sunlight passed through the bedroom curtains, I feel myself begin to stir in my sleep, groaning I turn towards my wall. A giggle leaving my lips as a tiny tongue flicks along my neck, licking at my skin, with a shaky laugh I open my eyes - a familiar little bunny coming into view. Smiling, I pick the rabbit up, rolling onto my back and holding it in the air.

“I think I might keep you, call you mine.”

Chuckling, I sit up and place the bunny into my lap, petting the small creature. “I’m (Y/n), and you’re..” Pausing for a moment I look around my room for a name idea, then it hits me. “You’re Jungkook!”

I watch as Jungkook jumps up, pawing at my shirt, “someones excited!” I exclaim happily, picking Jungkook up and checking the bunny for a split second. “You’re a boy Jungkook!” I yell, clearly as excited as him.

ding!

Cutting myself and Jungkook from our moment, I listen to my phone go off beside me, sighing I unlock it and read my messages with a frown. A deep groan falls from my lips, tossing my phone onto the floor carelessly - as if it’ll relieve my irritation.

“Namjoon’s coming over, Jungkook, he’s a friend of mine. He’s going to help me finish my leftover work,” smiling I cradle the tiny male bunny in my arms. Running my hand gently along his back, watching his small tail twitch. Giggling I grab his tail between two fingers and massage the area around it.

“Come on, I need to change, help me pick out my outfit.”

Jumping out of bed, I make it quickly, rearranging my soft toys and such. I then take out a few things from the set of drawers I have sitting in the corner of the room.

“Which one? Twitch either your left or right ear to tell me,” I utter holding up both the chosen pieces of clothes.

The bunny’s head only tilts to the side, his right ear twitching, grinning I nod and make a hurry to take off the shirt I was sleeping in, pulling on the large sweater and shorts.

“Ta-da!” I do a little twirl, laughing when Jungkook jumps in his spot, his large doe eyes glistening in the natural light. Scoffing, I shake my head, a wide smile still plastered on my face when I open my curtains and windows.

Turning to Jungkook, I watch as he jumps down from my bed, landing on his side with a small squeak. I let out a snicker watching in awe at the clumsy bunny. His little legs working hard as he runs over to me, snuggling himself into my ankle. “Come on bub,” I murmur picking Jungkook up and walking into the kitchen to boil the jug as-well-as place a few pieces of bread into the toaster.

“What should you have for breakfast?” Looking down at Jungkook, I smile, shuffling over to the fridge - tearing a leaf of lettuce away from its body and grabbing an apple to go with the green he’s going to eat, “sorry if you don’t like it. I’ll try and buy you bunny food on Thursday, hm?” Chuckling, I jump a little with every step I take; rocking Jungkook like an infant in my arms.

“I’ll cut your lettuce and apple so its easier for you to eat,” pressing a chast kiss to Jungkook’s fur, I place him on the bench beside me whilst I cut the lettuce into strips. The faint sound of rain hitting the roof filling my ears, I sigh at this and place the shredded lettuce onto a small plate. Moving onto his apple, I begin to cut that too, eventually finishing that and placing the tiny chunks onto the plate also - moving onto my breakfast once I’ve placed his food onto the table.

Placing a couple slices of bread into the toaster, I take out the butter along with the jam as I wait for my toast to pop up.

I jump when my toast is ready, laughing at myself for being oblivious to it. Humming a song to myself, I butter my toast - blah blah. And then walk over to the table, giggling when I see Jungkook face first in his food; his cheeks stuffed with his breakfast.

“Cute,” I mutter, taking a bite of my toast and listening to the pelting rain hit the roof of my home. “I hope Namjoon doesn’t catch a cold, he’s probably drenched.”

Speaking of the devil.

My eyebrows raise as my front door slides open, Namjoon rushing inside and tossing his keys onto the shoe shelf beside him, he sighs and removes his wet coat - draping it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Unlock your door next time,” he complains, sitting down and combing back his dripping bangs.

“Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t expect you over so early. Its only ten,” Namjoon nods in response. His eyes shifting from me to Jungkook - too immersed in his feasting to notice the male in the room. “You bought a rabbit..?” He asks, examining the animal with his eyes, “no.” Is all I respond with, finishing off the last of my toast.

“I found his last night, his leg was injured so I took him in.”

Namjoon sighs, “what is it has some type of disease and you catch it?”

“I won’t, he’s healthy, a little beaten is all.” I smile sadly, moving my hand to pet Jungkook as he eats. “Do you plan on telling your dad?” He asks, plucking an untouched chunk of apple from Jungkook’s plate and tossing into his mouth.

I scoff, “no. Like he’s going to find out, he’ll only make me pay for everything myself, not to mention my sisters.” I find myself shivering at my own words, “if my sisters find out I have a rabbit in my house, they’ll smother the poor thing.”

Laughing, Namjoon nods, “I get it.”

I don’t say a word, only hum and allow Jungkook to hop into my open hand, “how much of the work did I need to finish?”

“Right!” Namjoon starts, placing the small bag he has with his atop of the table, “if I remember correctly you only have to finish your slide for history.” I instantly grin, history is one of my favourite subjects. I so adore history, I’ve always been a fan of the dark and interesting histories and wonders of the world.

According to my friends and mutuals at school I’m a, quote on quote; history whore.

“Salem Witch Trials, right?” Namjoon asks, cutting me from my thoughts, “yeah, that’s it.” He nods, taking out his notebook as well as a few sheets of paper littered with words and images. “I’ve got some articles printed for you to use as reference.”

Thanking him, I run off to grab my laptop, returning moments later and sitting in my original spot. “I think you only have two slides left to make,” he murmurs, writing a few things into his notebook. I hum, opening my slides and quickly looking through my current work.

One slide left, I think to myself, glancing at the papers given to me. This is going to be interesting.

Groaning, I flop lifelessly onto my sofa, ignoring the grumbling coming from Namjoon. “(Y/n)-”

“Don’t you dare make me work any further, I’ve finished everything.” I retort, not letting Namjoon finish his sentence, he knows how stubborn I can be and decides to leave things at that. “Movie?” He asks, switching the tv on, “no - game.”

Chuckling, Namjoon stands to grab the two controllers sitting in a drawer before handing me one and starting up a multiplayer game so the two of us can play. “Are you ready to lose?” I chime cockily, knowing how he sucks at this specific video game. “Ha ha, very funny,” he retorts.

I smile at his sarcasm, focusing my attention on the game about to take place, “loser.” I say, mashing furiously at my controller, knocking down Namjoon’s character with a simple punch. The male beside me huffs, puffing his cheeks out, “I’m no loser.”

And he wasn’t lying when he said that, I’d only blinked and my character had been knocked down with a booming k.o! I was shocked; he’d literally just beaten me, me!

“Kim Namjoon!” I whine, throwing the small device in my hands onto the armchair across from the two of us, instantly jumping onto the broad male - tackling him into the cushioning.

He lets out a low squeak, squirming beneath me with a roaring laugh. He knows how competitive I can get, so why would he make me lose?

“(Y/n)!” He laughs, his hands unconsciously finding my waist as I resume tickling him. “St-Stop!” Furrowing my eyebrows, I pinch his waist before stopping and glaring at him, “thank you.” He pants, rolling over slightly and glancing at a certain spot on the floor.

“Oh hey little guy,” Namjoon spurs, smiling fondly at Jungkook. I notice this and turn my head to face my curious bunny, “come on!” I cheer, kneeling beside the couch and watching as he scrambles over to me. Burying his face into my hands the second he comes up to me.

I can’t help but grin at how cute he is, bringing the small animal towards my chest and cradling him. “He’s so cute Namjoon.”

“Are you going to keep him?” He asks, sitting up after tidying his tussled hair. “Mhm, I decided to keep him once I woke up. There’s no way he’s going back out there, poor thing must’ve been beaten before running off.”

“There’s actually been cases popping up recently of animal abusers, the authorities are trying to find out who exactly is doing this and whether its a group or just individuals, they’re also speculating that its breeder or maybe a owner of sorts.”

He pauses, wetting his lips before continuing;

“Oh- there’s also cases of people seeing .. well other people, but with animal ears and tails. No one has been able to prove if these sightings are true or not, but I guess that’s off topic.”

Shrugging, I continue to gaze at the now sleeping bunny in my arms, a wide smile gracing my lips. “Should we go shopping?” I ask the bunny snuggled into me, knowing it obviously won’t answer me. “Now?” Namjoon questions, walking around me and into my room.

“Yeah,” is all I say as I climb to my feet and place Jungkook onto the couch to retrieve my shoes from my room - a coat hitting me directly in the face upon my entering. “Put that on, it’ll be cold outside.”

“I know,” I say. “I know.”

328 notes · View notes

loves124 · 4 years ago

Text

Neighbor’s ch.1

Warning: language (sorry if it bothers you all but I usually sing like a sailor and tried holding back a bit more this chapter but there are still some word in here.)

Kinda fluff?

If there are any errors or mistakes please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Also don’t hesitate to give me some fresh ideas

Thank you,

Love you,

Enjoy!

(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)

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

It's been a long day for you. As soon as you walked out the door this morning, anything and everything has been going wrong. You were running late and had to skip breakfast, you missed your train, you got scolded by your boss for showing up late, and you even grabbed your least favorite pair of socks. They have a little nub in the corner that always feels super weird on your foot and makes you feel uncomfortable in your body. As the day progressed, nothing got better. You just wanted to come home and cry on your couch while watching Ghibli movies and eating a pint of ice cream for dinner.

You could feel the familiar lump in your throat forming, and your eyes were stinging from holding back your tears. Today was just so frustrating, and all you wanted was for it to be over. The more you thought about it, the heavier your emotion was. Thank God that your shift was finally over with. Looking at the time, you saw that it was 7:30 and you needed to hurry to catch the last train home.

As you headed home, you could feel your feet dragging behind you, sniffling and letting some tears fall. You finally reach your complex and continue walking to your apartment door.

A man is standing by the railing near your apartment door. He has a cigarette hanging from his lips. Taking a second to lean away from the railing, he pulls a hairband from his wrist and gathers his long ebony hair pulling it back into a messy bun. He looks a little disheveled: wearing some black slacks to pair with his black V-neck shirt.

You can see some cardboard boxes packed around him as well. It takes you a second to realize that the apartment next to yours has been vacant for weeks now. Mrs. Honda, your landlady, might've finally found an occupant.

Great. Your first impression to your neighbor is going to be when you're a total mess. That's just fan-fucking-tastic.

You try to compose yourself as you make your way closer to your apartment, and it isn't working too well. The man picks up your movement and gives you a gaze as he flicks the built-up ashes of the end of his cigarette.

You give a bit of a nod and mumble a quiet hello as you make your way closer to your apartment. You fumble through your purse, trying to find your key card for your door. Huffing in frustration, you realize that you most likely locked it in your apartment. 'This day just can't get any better,' you think to yourself.

You dig through your purse and grab your wallet, pulling out a dunking donuts gift card. You attempt to fiddle it in-between your door and the frame. You were struggling as you fiddled with the handle of the door. You are just about to try and kick down the door before a voice interrupts you.

"Aren't burglars supposed to be good at picking locks?"

You look over to see the man leaning back on the rail, amused at your feeble attempt to break into your own apartment.

Flustered, you stumble to find your words. "Ah well, you see... this is actually my apartment. I just locked my card inside. I was running late this morning and didn't have time for breakfast. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and it probably is a reason why I forgot my card. And my boss didn't make it any better by being such an asshole-" you glance at the man again and compose yourself. "I'm so sorry. You don't need to know all that. It's just been a long day," you sigh.

"Hey, I get it. It's been similar for me. I usually don't smoke, but it's been a bit of a rough day, so I thought I deserved a bit of a break," he signals to the cigarette intertwined between his fingers.

"I would offer you one, but I take you as the type who doesn't smoke."

"After the day I had, I am very tempted for any sort of relief" you sigh and drop your bag, joining him over by the railing.

Lazily putting the cigarette back in-between his lips, he extends his hand out to you. "Shouta Aizawa, I guess I'm your new neighbor."

You reciprocate and put your tiny hand in his "(F/N L/N, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, you had to see me when I'm such a mess."

"If this is you when you're a mess, I'd love to see how you are normally," he says.

Both you and Aizawa chit chat a bit before a gust of wind flows by you, making you shiver and cover your arms to receive it a bit. I guess he picks up on it because he offers you to come inside his apartment for a cup of tea.

"If that makes you uncomfortable, though, you are more than free to refuse. I won't take any offense," Aizawa says as he stubs out the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray he has sitting on a cardboard box.

"I'll take you up on your offer" you smile. "Just to let you know, though, I judge harshly when it comes to people's tea-making abilities."

"noted," he chuckles as he holds the door open for you with one arm while holding the box in the other.

You both chat for hours. Talking about anything and everything, you learned that he is a teacher at UA. Commending him at his accomplishment for having a job at such a prestigious school, but he doesn't seem to be interested in his accomplishment. Even with all of the talking, he seems like he isn't too interested in talking about his own life but more interested in finding more information about yours.

It's sweet, but you would like to know more about the man in front of you. You are surprised with how comfortable you are with him. He is a little intimidating. He's got this dark and broody sort of personality, and that's disregarding his looks. This man is the definition of sexy.

You are just admiring him and all of his details while he is sipping on the chamomile tea he made for you both. You notice the scar that's on his left cheekbone, and you're tempted to run your fingers across it. He also had some pretty prominent eye bags. You usually think eye bags are unattractive. That's ever since you developed some from working overtime at your job. Waking up and seeing the dark circles under your eye made you feel so insecure. Looking at Aizawa though, you can't help but find them beautiful. They add to his charm a bit, and you realize he most likely has them from putting in so much effort into his work. His dedication is more than admirable.

You take your time basking in him, thinking to yourself, "why is he so goddamn pretty?"

Only to realize that his expression changes, and you just said that out loud. Flustered, you try and explain yourself, "Sorry, I just- I didn't- God, this is embarrassing."

He grins. "Never would have thought I would be described as 'pretty. Usually, I get 'jaded' or 'dull.'"

"Really?" you say, shocked. "But you're so handsome?"

"With these dry eyes, thanks, but I don't need any pity compliments" you go to defend yourself but are interrupted by him.

"speaking of dry eyes," he rummages through his pockets. "Where did I put them?" he questions before picking up a box and setting it on the counter, rummaging through it.

"What are you looking for?" you question.

"Just eye drops, I get some pretty mean dry eye, so I usually have some on hand," he huffs.

"Well, I don't think you are going to find them in there," you nervously laugh.

"Why not? I'm pretty sure I put them in here."

"Do you... um usually put your eye drops in with uh- your butt plugs?" you question

"My what?" he stares incredulously, and you respond by pointing to the scribbled sharpie written on the side of the box. He flips the box around to see written in big bold letters' Aizawa's Butt Plugs FRAGILE'.

"Hizashi," he quietly sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, it's totally okay. I don't kink shame here. I would just say its a little unsanitary to put your eye drops with-"

"I don't have but plugs," he quickly says. "I have never once owned but plugs; it's just my coworker is a piece of shit and doesn't know how to stay out of someone else's stuff."

"I like his humor. Seems like my kind of person," you chuckle.

"You would eat your words if you met him in person. He is kind of a loud person," he sighs as he continues to dig through the box. "Finally," he puffs as he pulls out a small little bottle. Unscrewing the top, he attempts to drop some in his eyes but misses.

Some mumbled swears later, and you offer, "Would you like some help?"

"only if you're comfortable though," you add on.

"Could you? I can usually get it first try since I do it so often" he hands you the tiny bottle. You look around and move to sit on the counter, waving him over to come in-between your legs. You cup his face as if it were a natural thing you would do on a day-to-day basis without even thinking. You have your thumb laying on his cheekbone, and you drag it over his scar, feeling some of the grooves and divots within it. He leans a bit into your hand as you caress the scar, but you realize you are getting a little carried away and continue. Dropping a couple of drops in each eye, he sighs in relief.

"Thanks," he says with a smile. You both look into each other's eyes before you cough and look over at the time to see it is already 1 am. He follows your gaze.

"Wow, have we really been talking that long?" you question. "I've probably more than overstayed my welcome" with a laugh, you hop off the counter and stand under his gaze. "Thank you so much for listening to me and being such a wonderful host. I should probably head back over though" you point to the direction of your apartment. "You might if I use your balcony to hop on over?" You ask.

"Sure," he breaks from his trance. Leading you to the balcony, you throw your bag over the railing to your side and follow in suit. He gives his hand and aids you over the railing to your side.

With a thankful smile, you give a quick thanks and goodnight. But before you go in, they capture your attention once again.

Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he says, "just so you know, you're welcome here anytime you get locked out again, or even if you don't get locked out."

You smile. "I'll take you up on that, but you might get tired of me pretty fast." You open the back door and make your way into your apartment, but before you close the door, you hear him say

"I doubt it."

#aizawa fanfiction #mha #fanfic

12 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 5 years ago

Text

07 | Illegirl

→ previous | next

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, kissing/making out, (kinda??) sexual fantasies

→ wordcount: 6.2k

You need to get rid of all the memories you've had with Jimin.

It's quite simple, actually. You've broken it down into four rules.

1. Don't call him Jimin. He's merely your teacher, not friend

2. You've never ever kissed him before. In fact, let's just say you don't even meet him outside of school for whatever reason

3. You don't know anything about him except his age, name and profession. You certainly don't know anything he hides behind his pretty face

4. Lastly, you weren't his friend, you never were

Ever since the mistaken incident, all fun was stripped away from your life. Essentially, whenever Jin was away, you had Jimin to rely on, but even he was distancing himself from you. You knew it was for the better.

You see a bland pattern these days. During class, Jimin still calls on you (to ensure normal behavior), but both of you avoid eye contact. After class, you silently walk into his classroom and walk out when Jimin's ready to leave. You don't ever exchange words, even when he drops you off.

If you're absolutely forced to talk to him, you don't call him Jimin, you call him Mr. Park, because that's what he really is to you. Only friends call each other by their first names, and Jimin's just a teacher to you.

And you're just a student to him.

You count off the long days until your cousin will come back home. Every day seems to drag on and you constantly can't wait to go to bed for a short while but only to wake up again and start the shitty cycle once more.

But finally, finally, fucking finally, the day comes when your cousin will be back. You're a bit reluctant to accompany your teacher to the airport, but you don't have a car, much less a driver's license.

The car ride is awkward, just as you expected. You manage to sit still, looking out the window the whole time to avoid any chance of eye contact, running math equations in your head to distract yourself.

Of course, in the end, the uncomfortable ride was worth it.

It's Seokjin, after all.

"My baby cousin, best friend! Still alive, I see!" your cousin practically screams as he bull-runs towards you and Jimin, his suitcase basically flying behind him. That earns a few strange looks from passers.

When Jin reaches you, he embraces you in a warm hug.

"I've been living off instant ramen," you whine. "It's not fair that you don't let me get out of the house alone!"

Your cousin cocks his head as he looks between you and Jimin. "Hey, don't you two usually eat together after school?"

"We were both busy," Jimin quickly says, glancing your way awkwardly.

"For a month?" Jin questions.

"Yeah... a lot of homework," you trail off. "Mr. Park still made sure I got into the house safely every time though," you add for some good measure.

"Mr. Park?" your cousin says suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. "Since when did you call Jimin, that?"

Busted.

"Hm... did you two fight?" Jin asks, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. He looks at you meaningfully, as if trying to compel you to tell the full truth. You're not falling for that.

"Oh, of course not," you say giggle unconvincingly. "Why would we fight?"

Jimin laughs nervously. "Y/N's right. We didn't fight."

Jin looks like he doesn't believe both of you. But thankfully, he knows not to push it. "Yeah, I expect it was something like Y/N accidentally got a B on one of your tests, Jimin," he jokes, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, I missed you two," he announces joyfully, bringing in you and your teacher for a hug. "I'll treat you two to a nice dinner."

You perk up, face suddenly glowing as you smile—it felt nice to smile, actually. You haven't done it in a while. "Oh thank god," you say. "No more ramen!"

You haven't really had your fair share of awkward dinners, but goddamn, if you had a list, this dinner would be on the very top of it.

Jin is the only one who's trying to strike up a lively conversation as you and Jimin act like brain-dead zombies. You're half-expecting your cousin to give up on his attempts to crack corny jokes, but no, Jin continues on. You guess you're thankful to have him to make the dinner not a complete shitty event.

Halfway through the meal, Jimin checks his phone, his face feigning surprise. "Oh!" he says rather loudly. "Um, something came up... Er, teacher stuff. I've got to go," he says quickly, standing up. "I'll pay."

"Excuse me, Jimin, I said this is my treat. Go on ahead to your... supposed teacher meeting," Jin says, ushering his friend out with the flip of his hand.

Anyone could tell Jimin was just faking this to get the hell out of here, but none of you were actually going to mention it.

Your teacher just looks gratefully at your cousin and practically dashes out of the nice restaurant.

An awkward silence fills the air for a while.

"So... even if the two of you didn't fight, something still happened," Jin says, turning to face you fully.

"It's nothing, really."

"Nothing? Then do you care to explain why you've lost so much weight? You haven't been eating," your cousin lectures. He points at the dark bags under your weary eyes. "And you haven't been sleeping. You're slipping back to your old habits, Y/N. What happened?"

"It doesn't hurt to do some extra studying..." you mutter. "I've got all the time in the world now," you say sarcastically.

Jin sighs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Y/N," he says sternly. "How many minutes of sleep are you getting a night?"

"Forty-five," you say nonchalantly. "Don't, Jin. It used to be thirty minutes a night so you better not bring out that huge lecture again."

"I thought it was getting better..." your cousin sighs. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, and you know that."

You nod. "I know. But you're here now, right?"

Your cousin looks at you so sadly, you feel like you just might burst into tears. "Y/N, I won't always be here with you. I know I call you my baby cousin, but honestly, you've got to grow up."

His words hit you hard, only because you know he's right.

"I can't always be there to baby you, okay?" Jin says, massaging his forehead with the palm of his hand. "As of now, you're only in high school—in less than a year you'll be going to college. Life is so much more than studying. Stop using that, that shit to distract yourself from things that should mean a lot to you!" your cousin practically yells. He buries his face into his hands.

Your mouth is agape. Jin never cussed. He must be so mad. You fucked up—you've been fucking up for a while, actually.

"Jin," you say, softly shaking your cousin's shoulder. "Jin. I'm sorry."

When he looks up, you're shocked to see smudged tears dwelling on the smooth surfaces of his skin. You've never seen Jin cry—only on stage when it was scripted.

At that moment, you want to tell him everything—you've never actually hidden things from your cousin until Jimin rolled around. You want to tell him about that night Jimin was drunk and kissed you, about your crush on your teacher, how he helped you become the happiest you could be, how a month ago both of you made a huge mistake and kissed... You want to tell your cousin that you've been slipping back to your own habits because you wanted to distract yourself from thinking about him.

But you don't tell him.

"Y/N, I try, okay? I really try to make you happy. Yeah, sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out, because god, you are such a brat at times!" he chuckles through his tears. "But Y/N, I love you. And I know, whatever has been going on between you and Jimin has been making you happier than ever. It's something I couldn't do for you, and I still beat myself up over that. But something happened between the two of you, and the happiness is gone now. You don't have to tell me anything, but just... don't go studying for hours when you face some sort of problem in your life, okay?"

Fuck, now I'm crying.

You nod, making your tears flow down your face. "Okay. I'm sorry," you manage to say. "I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish—"

Jin wipes your tears away with his soft sweater, pulling you into a tight hug right after. "It's okay. You're still learning, you're only 17. Besides, my outlet is theater. While you were practically starving yourself for a month, I was literally having the time of my life with the drama crew. Don't worry about me too much. I'm not the one who still needs to figure out what to do in life."

All you can do is nod into Jin's chest, sniffling slightly. You love him so much you can't even explain in words.

"Fix things up with Jimin, try, okay? I don't care if you end your senior year having a B, or seven F's—what matters is your happiness. Try to consider that the next time you try to starve and sleep deprive yourself," Jin says softly, his fingers sifting daintily through your hair, caressing it in a way you think a mother would do.

You hum in agreement, your head still resting against your cousin's warm chest. You want to stay like this forever.

But after a few minutes, your cousin tugs you back, smiling brightly at you. "Now, we've put on quite a show in this restaurant, haven't we?" he whispers in a giggly voice.

Whut.

It's only then when you realize this whole episode had happened at the restaurant. In public. You can feel the judging gazes of people.

Oh fuck no.

"Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!" you hiss, gripping your cousin's sweater, face colored bright red as you can't bear to look up again.

Jin laughs heartily. "But what's life without a little public embarrassment?"

He looks up to you as much as you look up to him. As your older cousin, Seokjin always feels the need to take care of you, to make sure you're doing okay. At times, he forgets that he should put himself before others. At times, he forgets that he has a life outside of taking care of you and several grubby high schoolers. At times he forgets who he even is.

But on the days that he forgets, he thinks back to what you always tell him. You, the bratty, but amazing sunshine of his life.

"Jin, you're the goofiest guy I've ever fuc—I mean, freaking met. You'd think such a goofy guy would be empty-headed. But to think that I'm wrong... You're an amazing actor. It's scary to see you on stage sometimes because you're not Jin anymore. Like I swear to fu—flopping god that you change into a completely different person!"

"Y/N, are you complimenting me, or roasting me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing both. One shouldn't take too many compliments at once. It makes them big-headed."

"Well, I can't argue with you, I know that. But you really think I can act?"

"Okay, Jin, I know you can act, alright? I've seen you. Honestly, you should try pursuing it. Oh my god, if you ever get famous, write a play about me!"

Jin chuckles at the memory. He never ever liked letting you see his weak side. To you, he was always some superhero who would always crack up jokes to lighten up any dark mood, his specialty was saving awkward dinners from spiraling out of control.

But since you were deprived of the details of Jin's darker part of his life, he needed someone else to vent to: Jimin.

"Jin, you should start to worry more about yourself than Y/N. Seriously, all you do is talk about her—is she that worrisome?"

"Jimin, bro, you don't even know. She's just... different and I'm so worried about her and how's she's gonna handle you know, life."

"You know what you need to do?"

"What?"

"Take a fucking chill pill. Let the girl be. She's 17, isn't she? You've been babying her too much, you know that? The more you worry about her, the more restricted she'll feel. She'll learn by herself. Life is trial and error—you should know that."

"I—"

"Okay, and in the meantime, holy shit, man, take care of yourself. All you do is teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of—"

"I think I get the point."

"Yeah? Well, doesn't look like you get it. Jin, do something for yourself for once. What do you like to do?"

"You know, the usual. Sleep... Look in the mirror..."

"If you're not gonna be serious, I'm going to leave—"

"Fine! I like acting okay? I love it. Every year the drama team is invited for competitions and I'm never able to go, so we've been losing every time."

"I presume you can't go to take care of Y/N?"

"Yeah.. uh—"

"I'll take care of her then, buddy. You go fulfill your dream, bro; you deserve it."

"Wait, actually? For real? You'd do that? This better not be one of your jokes."

"Do I look like I'm joking? You deserve to be doing what you want, Jin. Everyone does."

Jin feels so warm inside as he recalls that memory. It was thanks to Jimin that he was able to experience the time of his life at the competition, doing the thing he loved. It had also been thanks to Jimin that you had been happy for quite the longest time.

If Seokjin didn't know any better, he'd say there was just a bit of chemistry between the two of you—it was either that or a solid friendship. But for some reason whatever was there is now gone.

You were colder, more distant than before and even Jimin had stopped laughing so often.

"I know I'm asking you this a lot these days, but are you happy, Y/N? You don't look like it..."

"That's because I'm not. But don't you dare worry about me, it makes me feel selfish. I'm going to find things out when the time comes. You know, I care about you too. And honestly, I want you to stop worrying about me because it's stunting your happiness. I'm 17, I can figure things out myself."

"Can you figure things out by yourself? For real?"

"What did I just say? Yes, I can! I'm telling you, I'm starting to get life, alright?"

Jin shakes his head, sighing. He could always see through your lies. It was painfully obvious you were just saying the things he wanted to hear. He could see the confusion in your eyes whenever you stared at Jimin, he could see how blank your stare was when you were looking at anything else.

So. Obvious.

"Y/N, are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Jimin?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Jin wasn't so sure you were sure.

The young teacher really hadn't meant to kiss you. Things had just taken an unexpected turn, and judging from your reaction, it had been an enormous mistake. It physically hurt to have lost his other best friend, but he tried hard to not let it affect his life.

He could see it affected you though.

Of course, he had noticed you had lost weight—he also noticed the growing dark circles under your usually sparkling eyes. He could see how much duller you were. He also noticed he was smiling less without you.

Jimin sighs out loud as he makes his way into his car. He really missed having you around, with your unique, spunky personality, beautiful smile and hilarious side comments.

As he's driving, he can't stop thinking about you. Your face, your laugh, god, even your handwriting—sometimes he just spends long minutes admiring your neat penmanship on your tests. He knows every single one of your writing quirks—how you take your time to put a cute little dash over your 7's, or how beautiful your 4's look compared to everyone else's.

Stop it, Park Jimin. You'll crash your car if you don't stop thinking about her.

It takes five minutes longer than it should've, but Jimin finally arrives at the local market, clutching his clear shopping bag. He painfully looks down at it. It reminds him of you.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Um... clear."

"That's not a color, Y/N!"

"Do I fucking look like I care?"

"But that's like saying your favorite fruit is a carrot."

"Wait, my favorite fruit is a carrot! Damn, how'd you guess??"

He can't help but chuckle at the memory, but he abruptly stops, remembering you two won't be able to share memories like this anymore. Sighing, Jimin trudges into the supermarket.

He's been going here a lot these days. Ever since he found out you had not just one sweet tooth, but 28 sweet teeth, he'd been trying to learn how to bake pastries, buying all sorts of ingredients to create saccharine dishes. Just for you.

It wasn't much of a miracle that the last time you had baked together didn't turn out to be a disaster. Jimin had practiced.

He loves cooking with you. You always look ethereal, hair a bit frizzy from the heat and tied back from your face with stray strands brushing against your face. Your cheeks are always flushed and somehow frosting always gets on your forehead. Even thinking about you makes all his sadness and hurt disappear into thin air.

Except, Jimin wasn't going to the store to buy ingredients to bake. He was going to buy some beer. He hadn't gotten drunk ever since he'd accidentally kissed you—the first time, that is. But he figured today, he needed it. He needs to get his mind off of things. He needs to get his mind off of you.

Jimin walks through the aisles, blank-minded, stopping only at the alcohol section. He randomly picks at a pack of beers, knowing he'll probably end up drinking it all today. He grabs it, hand hovering to place the pack in his clear bag.

But again, it reminds him of you.

"I don't know why the fuck you would ever drink. Like, does it taste good? What's the fucking point?"

"I dunno. I just kinda drink it when I want to alleviate stress, I guess."

"Well, that's stupid. You should try ice cream. That stuff makes you feel better right away and it doesn't make you go wack and do hilarious shit you'll end up regretting."

"Are you actually shading me, right now?"

"So what if I am??"

Jimin smiles at the memory. The first mistaken kiss between the two of you was such a joke—you two would always make fun of it. Why couldn't the second one be treated the same?

He sighs, clutching the pack of beer as he puts it back on the shelf. Chuckling to himself, he starts to make his way to the ice cream aisle.

Jimin scans the series of ice cream flavors to choose from. Immediately, the mint chocolate chip ice cream catches his eye, and without hesitation, he takes the tub and places it whole in his shopper.

Y/N's favorite. Jimin smiles, then starts to walk to the checkout, only pausing when he remembers he needs a new set of his favorite red pens. Nodding his head to himself, Jimin makes his way to the office supplies section of the store, scanning the shelves to pick out his favorite.

Big mistake.

As soon as he picks up the 3-pack of his much-needed red gel pens, it reminds him of grading, which reminds him of grading tests, which was exactly what he had been doing just three minutes before he and you had ruined your friendship. Your face looms in his memory.

Something stings inside. It rips his heart and then shrivels it up as if he had dumped it into highly-concentrated saltwater. Like lemon juice on a paper cut—but the paper cut was a gushing wound.

It was as if he only just realized he lost someone crucial to his happiness.

Jimin can't help but make a sour, hurt face, instantly tossing the pack of pens away from him. He doesn't want to deal with bad memories. The pens can wait.

Instead, Park Jimin finds himself wandering back to the alcohol aisle, absentmindedly buying an even larger pack of beers, setting it next to the tub of ice cream. There's enough room in the kitchen for both anyways.

His thoughts are completely blank as he drives home. It's as if the rush of pain he'd felt earlier had hurt so, so much he was now immune to it. It was numb.

He reaches his house, setting down the beer and ignoring the ice cream that would surely melt if kept out in the open; he pauses in his steps, hand midway through raking his hair back. All because he sees his couch.

You loved that couch. Actually, you practically lived on it whenever you came over, insisting to even eat dinner seated on it because "it's fucking comfortable."

When you sleep over, taking his bed, he sleeps on that same couch where he can smell your soothing scent. It lulls him to sleep.

But then comes the fantasies.

"Someone will hear!"

"Let them hear."

"God, Jimin, you have no fucking morals," you breathe shakily. "What if Jin walks in?"

"Jin? Walk in? In my house?" Jimin laughs hotly against your neck. "You're just making excuses, baby girl."

"Why would I make excuses?" you say weakly, gripping the hem of his shirt. "I want this just as much as you do."

"Oh?"

Jimin hums as nuzzles the sensitive part of your neck with his nose.

"R-really, Jimin? But here?" you stutter as your eyes automatically close and your mouth parts.

"We'll take it to the couch, love," he answers, sweeping you up in a smooth fashion and softly laying you on the couch before making his way on top of you.

Your body is enveloped by the plush couch and Jimin whose legs are on either side of your hips. He dips in unhurriedly, his tongue touching your lips before his. You wrap your arms around his neck as Jimin cups your face with both hands, kissing you slowly.

Lips still attached, you tug at the hem of his button-up shirt, and Jimin takes the hint to slowly start unbuttoning it. You shift below him to help him with his buttons and before long, his shirt is off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Only then do you move apart from each other's lips.

You marvel at his fit body, reaching to run your cold fingers across his toned muscles. Jimin doesn't give you enough time to continue your sightseeing as he pushes you back down, playing with the bottom of your t-shirt. He gives you a seductive look as you practically melt under him.

"Why don't we take this off too?"

"J-Jimin..."

Wait a fucking minute. This isn't right.

Jimin sighs loudly as he gives his head a little shake as if it would erase him of that rather inappropriate fantasy. At least he's glad it was one of the more innocent imaginations he's had of you.

But now he feels more broken than ever. You're something he can't have, your relationship only exists in the depth of his mind, hidden away from judgment. Jimin sighs again, ripping open the pack of beers and taking one. It's not even cold, but at this point, he doesn't care.

He just wants to forget.

On second thought, he grabs the whole pack and takes it with him to the kitchen, setting it down, choosing one and cracking it open in one swift move. It's a familiar, refreshing feeling.

Jimin raises the can to his lips, waiting to feel the rush of the bitter contents on his tongue. But he freezes.

He's thinking of you again. It's as if his brain can't function without thinking of you so often. Yet this time, it's not the thought of you, it's the sight. Jimin sees your smiling face, the way your sweet lips part to reveal your smooth teeth in a brilliant grin. He can't but to smile to himself as well.

Almost immediately, he sets the beer down.

Maybe... Maybe you might not want to be friends anymore, but Jimin knows that he does. He figured that's all it takes to make him happy. If the thought of you can make him content, make him choose the right decisions, then he'll just have to continue thinking of you.

He's sorry he moved in to change a friendship into a relationship so fast, and he might just regret it, but in the end, he's glad he's met you.

Jimin slowly picks himself up to grab the tub of your favorite ice cream, scrounging for a spoon. The first bite is heavenly, wonderful and phenomenal.

Just like Y/N.

He shakes his head as he takes another scoop, placing it in his mouth to melt slowly.

Damn. I'm so whipped for her.

You sift heavy textbooks around in your arms, fumbling with your lock before getting it open. Throwing the books in, you sigh as you slam your locker shut. These days, you had lost interest in a lot of things you used to like—school included. Things just seemed so bland. You didn't ever feel like socializing with anyone, forcibly dragging yourself to class every single day.

"Hey, Y/N!" a familiar voice calls as you whip your head around to respond.

"Oh, Jungkook!" you reply, "ah, and Yoongi, Taehyung..." Immediately, guilt courses through your veins. You'd been ditching them during lunch for quite some time now, ignoring their frequent 'where are you?' texts. They'd come to confront you for sure.

"Were you sick?" Jungkook asks as he reaches you. "I didn't see you in school for a while."

"I bet you happened to drop your phone in the toilet as well," Yoongi snarks.

Taehyung coughs awkwardly. "Since you haven't been answering our texts."

"Well, I—" you sigh. How are you supposed to tell them you've been wanting a lot of alone time these days without brutally mutilating their feelings? The answer was too obvious.

"Uh, yeah I was sick. And yeah, I kinda drowned my phone in the toilet," you say. Lies. "I'm sorry if you worried."

"Damn, did you drop your phone in the toilet after you used it, or before?" Yoongi laughs, earning an elbow to the ribs from his truly, Jungkook.

"You don't have to be sorry, Y/N," the sweet math nerd muses, giving Yoongi a dirty look. "We're sorry you haven't felt well. You're better now, right?"

You stand there awkwardly, not wanting to engage in a full-blown conversation. Your daily dose of alone-time was calling, and you desperately wanted to succumb to it.

"Yeah... um, I'm okay, been better. Sorry, I kinda have to go..." you fib. "Um, doctor's appointment?" It sounds more like a question than a solid lie but it'll do for now. "See you sometime later, I guess."

Turning around, you quickly walk away, faintly hearing confusedly murmured goodbyes from your friends. You speed around a corner, finding refuge in the girl's bathroom. Setting your things down in the big stall, you sigh, sitting down on top of your backpack.

It almost feels like the old days.

Except back then, you didn't have to ditch your friends for solitude because you had none. In a way, you feel slightly guilty. Your friends just wanted to hang out with you, it was that simple. But surely, if you hung out with them, you'd ruin the fun and the happy mood.

It's better to not meet them at all than meet them and remember bad things.

It's an upgrade, you think. You used to be afraid that others would hurt you. Now you're afraid you'll hurt others.

Some kind of upgrade.

It's even worse with the situation you have at hand (ahem, the Jimin one). You rarely lift your head up in class, flinching just slightly when he calls your name to solve a problem. It's harder than you think. To get rid of a crush, that is.

Not only that, but it's also wrong to be infatuated with your teacher. You just don't know what to do anymore. Jin didn't buy your feigned happiness—well, any idiot could tell you weren't as content as before. And now you've got a handful of people worrying, fussing over you of all others.

Why couldn't they just leave you alone?

No, that's stupid.

Deep inside, you want them to care, to worry for you. It gives you a feeling that you're not so alone.

"Y/N? You little liar!" a masculine voice screams from the entrance of the girl's restroom.

"Oh shit," you breathe. That was definitely Taehyung. Fuck. Just stay quiet, it's not like they can—

"We're coming in!" Yoongi yells, making the blood drain out of your face.

"Wait, guys!" Jungkook pleads. But it's too late. Yoongi and Taehyung barge into the girl's bathroom, rattling stall doors. Thank goodness you know for a fact no other girls were in here.

Before Yoongi or Taehyung can break down the stalls, you quickly unlatch your door, coming face to face with the two students.

"Ha! I knew you were in here!" Taehyung declares. "Jungkook swore he saw you go to the restroom and not to the office!"

"Doctor's appointment, huh?" Yoongi smirks.

"Well, I—"

"Save it. Jungkook, you little brat, get in here! Stop being a wimp!" Yoongi yells at the top of his lungs.

"Yoongi, will you quiet down? This is the girl's restroom," you hiss.

"But if this is the place you choose to eat your lunch at, we'll be here by your side," Jungkook says, smiling as he timidly walks in the stall. He looks alert as if anyone could open the door to the restroom and catch three teenage boys in a bad act, (which was perfectly plausible).

You don't know how in the hell you're supposed to respond to this. This. This is what friendship should be, isn't it? You'd never really known until now. It's such a beautiful, heartwarming feeling.

"Actually, JK, my man, you can be by her side, Yoongi and I have some business to take care of," Taehyung giggles has Yoongi links his arm around his.

"Wait, huh? That wasn't the pl—"

"Buh-bye!" Yoongi sings, waving his fingers at you and Jungkook as he and Taehyung strut out of the bathroom, not once looking back.

You and Jungkook are completely stunned into silence.

"Wow, they're really out to get us, huh?" you finally say, laughing under your breath.

"Y-yeah," Jungkook agrees quickly. "Listen, Y/N," he turns to you, the surprising sternness in his voice hinting that he was being extremely serious. "I understand you like your alone time, maybe a bit more than others. But sometimes the most dangerous, harmful and hurtful thoughts come when you're in solitude."

He's right and you know it.

"Aw, Jungkook, don't worry, I'm fine!" you say in the most lighthearted way you can. You chuckle sourly inside. No, I'm not.

"Y/N, you're not fine," Jungkook sighs. "For the longest time, I thought you weren't hanging out with us during lunch because... because you hated me or something. But now, I think there's something going on in your life that's hurting you, keeping you from being the better you."

You're speechless.

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

You do.

"I don't."

"Y/N, it's a burden to tell others every single detail of your life and problems, but it's also a burden to not say one single word about it," Jungkook says. "I don't know anything about you except that you like math... I want to know more about you, what goes on in your life, what problems you have. I want to help you."

It's then when you know you've been a mystery to Jungkook. You know a shit ton about him from your friendly talks, but you never talk about yourself. You realize you had only ever told Jimin everything that went on in your life. He was the one who could possibly know you better than Jin, himself. Jimin.

His name echoes in your head, but it feels so empty and dark.

You hadn't even known you were crying until Jungkook wordlessly wipes your tears away with the hem of his sleeve. He softly pats your back, then hesitates before he leans in to embrace you. Something about that makes you start crying. Too bad it's the ugly kind.

Jungkook seems a bit taken back at your sudden burst of tears, but he only holds you tighter, rubbing warm circles in your back. The best part about it is that he doesn't say a single word. He gives you time to cry your heart out, giving you company when you should feel so lonely.

You hiccup, leaning back from Jungkook's chest but still in the warmth of his embrace. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't... I'm so sorry," you blubber. Damn. Why the fuck—

"Unrequited love?" Jungkook asks softly.

You give him a strange look. "I guess you could say that..."

"Thought so," he mutters. "But he loves you back," he declares confidently.

Your head jerks up and you take a second before you start to laugh, the last of your tears dripping down from your chin to the ground. "How would you know?"

"You're Y/N. Everyone loves you back," Jungkook says, grinning. He dabs at your wet cheeks with his sleeve.

"And you're supposed to say that because you're my friend," you chuckle. "Trust me. It's not even 'love.' It's a little crush that I shouldn't even have had in the first place," you explain. "I'll be fine."

Jungkook smiles. "I trust that you will be." He's about to say more, but you hear the restroom door swing open as a few loud, gossipy girls come in.

You quickly tug Jungkook into the stall with you, locking the door. "Oh shit!" you whisper, grabbing at your friend's shirt.

"That was close!" Jungkook chuckles quietly. He smiles at you, and it's so contagious that you can't help but smile back.

You finally realize that you're not alone, that you shouldn't be alone. There are people willing to listen, to help you. There are people willing to break school rules and hang out in the girl's restroom with you, for goodness sake. You need to get over this 'unrequited love' and focus on the better things.

It took you a good ten minutes to escape the girl's restroom with Jungkook safely—curse high school girls who like to gossip their mouths off when they should really be flushing down their business. The two of you spent the rest of lunch casually talking as if you hadn't broken down crying not too long ago. It felt good to talk to someone. Especially since you've been so focused on shutting people out these days.

Now you're in the best mood you've been in months as you practically skip to Jin's drama classroom.

"Today's been a wonderful day!" you belt out singing as you swing open the door, twirling dramatically into the classroom. Looking up from your little happy dance, the color from your face drains as you see Jin and Jimin staring at you in shock.

Okay. I was expecting Jin. But Jimin? Really?

You're so embarrassed. All the mirth from before had officially been drained away.

Jin's the first one to break the silence as he laughs heartily. "A wonderful day? That's great, Y/N! Did Jungkook confess?" he teases.

You roll your eyes. "No!"

Your cousin wiggles your eyebrows at you as from the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin looking down at his shoes. Your heart stings at the sight.

"Yeah, um, so... Let's go home?" you awkwardly suggest, tightening your grip on your backpack.

"Oh right... About that," Jin chuckles nervously. "Jimin's taking you home today."

The light in your eyes extinguishes immediately. "He can't!" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jimin looks up at your sudden outburst, your eyes meeting.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

Jin cocks his head. "Don't worry, Y/N, he's not going to crash the car or anything," he laughs. Your eyes plead at your cousin. "Sorry, for the late notice, Y/N. I have some team meeting I have to go to. Now, behave yourself! I'll be home in a few hours. Bye!" Jin gives you and Jimin an equally goofy grin as he sashays out of his classroom, happily waving his hand as a final goodbye.

You internally groan. This was going to be so bad.

—previous | next

—masterlist

#jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #teacher au #jimin fanfic #illegirl

157 notes · View notes

the-salty-asian · 4 years ago

Text

The Spider and The Fly | The Spider Wasp

Series Masterlist

Warnings: language, protesting?, creepy guy harassment, mention of death, and fighting

Summary: Peter’s friends aren’t too fond of y/n.

Word Count: 3.1K

The crowded halls of Midtown High would always annoy y/n. Yet she praised them for hiding her as she eavesdropped on the argument Peter and his friends were having.

“There’s just something off about her, man.”

“Something off? Have you seen us!? There’s a little something off about us Ned!”

“You’ve barely known her for a week Peter!”

“But guys I’ve ne-

“Yea, yea you’ve never felt this way before.”

Peter’s face softened, “MJ, I’m sorry I didn’t feel-”

“It’s whatever Peter, it’s in the past. I just think she’s hiding something. We’re trying to look out for you.”

Peter sighed, “Maybe you guys are right, but she needs friends right now. She’s a newbie.”

Y/n frowned. Any sane person could see that Peter was heavily influenced by his friends when it came to making decisions. There was no possible way for her to get closer to Peter until his friends trusted her too.

She rounded the corner, “Hey Pete! Ned, MJ.”

MJ and Ned shared an annoyed glance behind Peter’s back while he stepped toward her.

“Y-y/n hey!”

“Only my friends call me MJ,”she shot her a dirty look before retreating down the hallway. She left the three staring at her back until she disappeared into the wall of students.

“Well isn’t she just a dark ray of sunshine today.”

Peter rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’m sorry about MJ, she’s not one to make friends easily.”

Ned shot his best friend a wary glance that didn’t go unnoticed by y/n’s eyes. Even if he wasn’t as open about his feelings towards her, y/n knew that there was some trust to be gained.

“So I’ve noticed.”

Y/n had found herself a permanent spot at the deemed “losers” table, much to Michelle and Ned’s disliking. By the third day, Peter had stopped gazing at Liz across the cafeteria. Even now she attempted to drill holes in the back of y/n’s head as she made him laugh.

“Hey guys I have something to show you.”

Her hands dipped into her bag and grasped for the box amongst the crumpled papers. It’s contents clinked together as she pulled it out and into the table. The second the boys laid eyes on its cover, their mouths fell agape.

“No waaayy!”

“I heard you guys were building a LEGO Death Star and I thought it’d be cool to add to your collection!”

“The Millennium Falcon!? That’s hella expensive, y/n!”

“I found a guy selling it online for cheap,”she lied.

The cheapest that the toy was going for was $50, even on the sketchiest of websites. Y/n had found it much easier to slip it in her bag and walk out the employee exit of the store.

Peter took the box from her hands and set it between him and Ned. Their eyes roamed the picture on the front while they grinned from ear to ear.

“I’ll need some help building it of course.”

Ned beamed at her,“We got you!”

“Yea totally!”Peter’s eyes lit up. “Hey do you wanna help us finish the Death Star first?”

The grin on Ned’s face fell and his eyes flickered to Michelle behind her book. Y/n felt the tension twist around her neck like a rope. She had to be careful to not kick the chair she balanced on.

“I’d love to Pete, if that's ok with you Ned?”

“Yea, I guess.”he looked like a kicked puppy. “Hey Pete, we gotta pick something up from the workshop before lunch is over.”

“No we don-”

“Yes.We.Do”

Ned’s fingers closed around Peter’s wrist, pulling his best friend up with him. Together they weaved their way out of the cafeteria, leaving y/n stranded with Michelle. She nervously eyed the book covering the girl’s face and hoped that it’d shield her for the rest of lunch.

“Winning us over with materialistic things, good play y/n.” She rested the book in her lap. “It won’t work with me though, sorry.”

The smile on y/n’s lips faltered but she quickly recovered. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Yea sure.”

With that, Michelle shoved her book into her bag and followed the direction that Peter and Ned had gone.

The rest of the week went by in a flash and soon enough y/n sat on the floor next to a nearly finished LEGO Death Star. It would’ve been complete the next day. However when y/n arrived at Peter’s door the next day, she found the two boys standing apologetically, a heap of LEGO pieces between them.

“Can you tell me why we have to rebuild it again?”

The two boys exchanged a nervous glance. Y/n could tell there was a secret linked between them, something she may already have known.

“Oh um Peter scared the living shit out of me and I kinda dropped it?” Ned blused.

Y/n’s lips turned up into a smirk, “Ah right.”

Over the past few afternoons of LEGOs and witty conversations, Ned had warmed up to her. They began to banter as if they had known each other their whole lives. As they laughed over her latest remark, y/n couldn’t help but notice Peter’s eyes on her.

“Here you do the last piece, y/n.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ned’s face fall. LEGOs were a sacred thing the two boys had let her in on, much against his protests.

“Actually,”she grabbed Ned’s wrist and turned his palm towards the ceiling. “I think Ned should do it instead, Pete.”

A childish grin spread across Ned’s face as she pressed the plastic into his hand. His eyes whispered to her a silent thank you before he snapped the piece into place. High fives were passed around as they looked over their creation with pride. Their celebration was cut short by the smoke alarm and the slamming of an oven door. Smoke poured into Peter’s open doorway soon followed by May Parker. She leaned against the door frame leisurely waving the air with her oven mit.

“Hey, are you two joining us for dinner? I made my famous meatloaf!”

Y/n was quick to catch the warning glance that Peter gave his friend as Ned stumbled over his words. “I can’t Ms. Parker. I gotta head home.”

Her bottom lip jutted out, “Aww ok Ned, it was good to see you!”

“Yea you too Ms. Parker!”

Ned quickly shuffled past her and y/n contemplated following after him.

“How about you, y/n?”

Her stomach dropped, there was no getting out of this one. She had skirted by May’s dinner requests a couple of times, but she had run out of excuses.

Y/n looked nervously from Peter to his aunt, “Oh no, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh please sweetheart! I’ve been dying to meet the girl Peter doesn’t shut up about!”

Peter’s eyes widened, “MAY!”

A real laugh escaped y/n’s lips at how red he had turned.

“Y-you don’t have to if you want to. I’m sure-“

“Peter give her a break!”she laughed and took y/n’s hand in hers giving it a warm squeeze. “Will you join us?”

It took all that was in her not to flinch at May’s foreign, soft touch. She regained the smile on her face, “Yes, of course.”

“Great! Peter, will you set the table?”

To say the least, May Parker was no gourmet chef. With every swallow of meatloaf y/n had to choke down, she regretted her response to a dinner invitation. Every few seconds she’d glance at Peter who would flash her an apologetic smile. Meanwhile, his aunt was rapidly firing questions at her. She answered them with ease, all rehearsed parts of a script.

“What do your parents do?”

“Oh well my father-”how was she supposed to tell her that her father was set on killing the Avengers? “Is a traveling businessman.”

“And your mother?”

Her mother, the word was a knife to her bruised heart. She would tell the truth for this one, for her mother.

“S-she’s no longer with us.”

May reached for her hand across the table,“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry to hear that!”

Much to y/n’s relief, May stopped her questions shortly after that. Instead, she shared stories of baby Peter that made him cover his face with his hands in embarrassment. Some of them even coaxed a laugh to tumble from y/n’s lips.

“Will you stay for dessert?”

“As much as I’d love to! I should probably get home, it was very nice meeting you Ms. Parker!”

“Oh no please, call me May, y/n!”

“Have a goodnight!”

Peter held the door for her and quickly ushered her outside before May could break out the photo albums from the shelf. Only when he closed the door did he calm down a bit.

He raked a hand through his curls, “Thanks for coming I-i know May’s not the best cook but she-“

“It was fine Peter. Thanks for having me.”

She held his gaze all the while stepping closer to him until she almost had to crane her neck to look at him. Her arms wrapped around his middle and her face pressed into his strong chest. Peter hesitated before he enveloped her in his arms and his hands splayed on her back. They stayed like that for a moment making it a game of who would let go first. Y/n lost. She pulled away from Peter’s warmth and opened her apartment door.

“Oh um goodnight, y/n!”

“Goodnight Pete,”she giggled at the state her hug left him in.

She closed the wood with a click, leaving a flustered Peter standing in the hallway. Through the spyhole she watched as Peter cheered silently before dancing happily through his door.

Things were starting to run more smoothly, Ned would greet her at lunch and y/n had received multiple dinner invitations from May. The only one who seemed to still give her the cold shoulder was Michelle. Y/n had tried every way she had known to get Michelle to like her. From bringing her all of her favorite foods at lunch to conversations about her favorite novels, the bookworm wasn’t easily swayed. But she herself even told y/n, materials meant nothing to Michelle. Y/n had spent every minute in class finding ways to get the girl on her side.

In front of her a couple girls whispered in hushed tones. Their giggles weren’t hard to notice but what had caught her attention was “protest”. She leaned over and tapped the closest girl on the shoulder.

“Hey what protest?”

“Oh, the women’s rights protest in Kissena Park! I didn’t take you for the protesting type.”

A wry smile formed on her lips, “I’m gonna give it a go, yea.”

Up until the bell rang, y/n was itching to find Michelle before she disappeared in the hive of students. When the clock finally reached 2:45, she was the first one out the door and running down the hall to her locker. Heads turned to look at her curiously as she ran about Midtown High’s campus in search of Michelle Jones. She found her almost to the school’s front doors.

“Hey! MJ-Michelle wait!”

To her surprise, she stopped in her tracks and spun around to meet her. Y/n’s shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor in an attempt to stop herself from colliding with her. Michelle’s face was washed in annoyance, her eyes stared down at y/n’s bent over figure.

“Well?”

“I w-was wondering if you were going to the women’s rights protest. The one in Kissena Park?”

“Yea,” Michelle crossed her arms over her chest while her dark eyes worked over y/n. “What about it?”

“Can I maybe join you?”

She took the request into consideration, chewing it over in her brain. Y/n almost thought that Michelle would spit it back in her face.

“Yea I don’t care, why not?”

“Great! I’ll meet you there?”

Michelle was already walking away, “Whatever.”

The fictional smile on y/n’s face while her eyes remained on the girl’s back. What an afternoon it was going to be.

Two hours later, y/n found herself getting off the bus right outside Kissena Park. A large crowd of women were already gathering at the front gate, signs in tow. After some searching, y/n finally found Michelle amongst them wielding a “guns have more rights than my vagina” sign.

Y/n’s mind panicked, she didn’t have a sign to flaunt. Her eyes scanned the crowd for an easy sign to pick off someone. And there it was, her saving grace. A large pink sign was propped up against the iron fence that read, “A vagina brought you into this world, a vagina can vote you out.” She shrugged, it was good enough for her.

“Hey Michelle!”

She spun around to reveal a wild grin on her face. This was Michelle in her element, no walls and no guard up. Her eyes surveyed the sign in y/n’s eyes before letting out a laugh.

“I like your sign.”

“Thanks, I like yours too.”

“Well come on, women’s rights aren’t gonna win themselves!”

At first. y/n didn’t appreciate the crowd, it made her on edge. Nothing good came out of waiting in large numbers. But as she watched Michelle’s defenses unravel she too felt the knot on her worries loosen. Soon enough they were walking side by side yelling with the crowd.

The girls walked the remainder of the park after the protest had finished. Y/n had finally chipped away at Michelle’s wall as they giggled endlessly over books and the students of Midtown High.”

“Who am I now?”Michelle bent her knees slightly. “You guys wanna take a ride in my new whip that’s not actually mine! Oh hey there’s Penis Park-“

“What are some pretty ladies like you doin down here?”

They had been too busy laughing that they hadn’t noticed the man approaching them on the other side of the walkway. Michelle was quick to brush past him but not quite enough. The man grabbed her by the upper arm and shoved his face in hers.

“Hey I’m talking to you!”

Michelle’s eyes were bulging with fear and she wasn’t strong enough to pull away from the stranger’s grip.

“Hey asshole don’t touch her!”

Y/n’s hands grabbed at his jacket sleeve and she aimed her knee at his lower half. It’s first attempt connected with his stomach and the second his groin. The attacker crumpled to the cement clutching his asset. Y/n wasted no time in kneeling beside him and taking his face in one hand. Her mouth hovered over his ear and she made sure that Michelle couldn’t see her next action.

She slipped a twenty dollar bill into his jacket pocket, “Sorry about that Kev’ I gotta make it believable.”

With that she stood and kicked him once in the ribs for good measure before turning towards Michelle. Her jaw was as low as the floor and her eyes wide with awe.

“Wow that was badass!”

“Thanks,”she took a hold of her hand. “I think we should get out of here.”

Michelle led y/n to the bus station, reenacting the fight scene the whole way there. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh as she punched the air in front of her with a few added sound effects.

“Hey,”Michelle stopped them just before the bus stop. “you maybe wanna come to my house tonight?”

She cracked a smile, “I’d love to.”

They say a person’s room often reveals a lot about them. This much was true about Michelle’s. Every surface was adorned with stacks of books except a small designated area for academic trophies. Crammed in the small space left on her dresser were three framed photos. One was of her family all gathered around a Christmas tree, another a photo of Midtown’s Academic team. The last one caught y/n’s eye, Michelle was holding the camera while Peter had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They both grinned up at y/n who had taken the photo in her hands.

“I’m sorry for the mess I don’t really have visitors.”

At the sound of Michelle’s voice, she thrust the photo back into its place. The bookworm emerged in the doorway with her arms overflowing with snacks.

Y/n pointed at the photo, “So you and Peter huh?”

“Oh um no,”her eyes focused on her sock clad feet. “We’re just friends.”

“I’m not sure what you’re into but I got some movies that aren’t Star Wars, if you wanna watch those?”she laughed.

“Yea that’d be great!”

After two movies and a ton of snacks, the two girls laid on their backs staring into the abyss before them and listening to the sounds of the city outside Michelle’s window. A soft silence settled in the darkness around the bed. Y/n could sense the slowing of the girl’s breaths and prayed that Michelle was a heavy sleeper. Yet it was quite the opposite. Minutes passed before y/n attempted to slide off the mattress, when she was met with Michelle’s sleepy voice.

“Can I confess something?”she mumbled into the darkness.

Internally she did a victory dance, confessions were good. Y/n hummed beside her and felt the shift in the mattress as Michelle rolled over to face her. She followed in suit, her eyes finding Michelle’s dark ones.

“I’ve never really had a girls’ night.”

She feigned a gasp, “Really?”

A pain settled in her chest, it was her first girls’ night as well, and she was spending it to get information to kill the girl’s best friend. This was all kinds of fucked up on y/n’s part.

“Yea I don’t really like the female population at Midtown, but you’re different. I don’t know how just yet but you are.”

Y/n’s stomach sank. She was different because she wasn’t meant to be a regular teenager. Her sole purpose was to serve her father. Even if that meant to kill Peter Parker.

“Thanks?”

“I’m still new with this compliment thing. Give me a break.”

“Goodnight Michelle.”y/n chuckled.

“MJ.”

“What?”

She rolled over to face y/n again. Her eyes shone in the moonlight filtering through her window and a rare toothy smile was plastered on her face.

“You can call me MJ.”

A/n: After this I kinda want to turn it into an MJ x reader fic lmao.

Taglist: @rebekamckenzie @blossomreed @pluckypete @moistpotatobear

10 notes · View notes

snowqueen-68 · 5 years ago

Text

I survived Christmas...

Yay! @billyhargrovens had me watch The Witcher and I will forever be grateful - ‘cause where have you been all my life Geralt of Rivia?! :) Anyway, here’s a bit more of MY story. Thanks for reading!

...His sentences were brief and clipped, matter of fact, delivered in the manner of someone used to ripping band-aids off wounds quickly and efficiently. Lily blinked rapidly. “Um …?” she could feel his words attempting to penetrate into her brain and not making it. “Please say that again,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. Bryan did the same and speaking more softly said, “Your parents have found you.” He paused for a brief moment, cleared his throat and then continued, “I don’t know what Emmett intends to do. I think we’re gonna have to move you again. I know it’s not optimal but at least its safer…For everyone.” This time Lily heard his words, but still couldn’t process them immediately or completely and she swayed on her feet as momentary dizziness made her head spin. She gripped the edge of the sink, hard, with both hands, so hard she could feel the chill of the porcelain sinking into the pads of her fingertips and she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, green eyes wide and horrified her, her face pale and without color. Emmett and Evelyn had found her? Really? Could this be true? “Lily? Lily?” Bryan repeated her name, sounding concerned, “are you there? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He paused, “Well, not intentionally anyway.” Lily shook her head forgetting that he couldn’t see her, forgetting about the receiver, still tucked against her shoulder. It fell, and she scrambled for it, bringing it back to her ear. “Did you say they’d found me? How? And how do you know?” She shuddered. Sweet Mother of God, nobody could put the fear of all the Heavens and Hell into her like her own father. Or mother for that matter. “Well, the truth is,” Bryan said, sounding more than a little wary, as if reluctant to tell her, “late last night my guy on the inside escaped Emmett’s compound. Your father did quite a number on him, so we think that’s how he found out. Long story short, they know where you are. I guess you’ve been their primary target for…well since you left. Anyway, like I said, we have to move you.” Lily reached over and tapped off the running water before moving away from the mirror and out of the bathroom. Thoughts raced through her mind, disorganized, without direction, as she tried to make sense of this unexpected news. “Ok wait…wait…wait. Let’s back up,” she said, crossing the broad hallway and pulling the phone with her into her bedroom. “First, what do you mean ‘guy on the inside’? You told me that you were just going to watch Emmett from a distance. I told you what he was like, I told you everything I knew. And you sent someone in any way? You are the little guy, Bryan. Unless you’ve grown drastically in the last three years. What were you thinking?” Bryan let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, I saw an opportunity to insert someone so I took it. If I could capture Emmett Allen and put him away it would…” He stopped, and Lily shook her head as she plopped herself on her bed placing the cradle of the phone at her feet and straightening up to stare out her window. “It would what Bryan? Be great for your company? For you?” “No. Well, yeah but for the town, too, Lily, you know that. Emmett’s been doing a number on this place for decades and he needs to be stopped.” Lily pushed a strand of long, dark hair behind one ear and rolled her eyes. “So, you thought you’d take it upon yourself and your security company to take care of the biggest bully in town? Not a great idea.” Bryan said nothing though Lily heard him sigh and she felt a momentary stab of guilt. She knew that Bryan and his team had been after her father for years, ever since Bryan’s stint in security at Allen Warehouses. Lily was pretty sure he’d seen lots of things out there that he’d wished he hadn’t, but what he had seen had given him the drive to start his own company and to start collecting evidence on Lily’s father, his corruption and crimes. Up until today, Lily had assumed that the biggest thing Bryan’s company had ever accomplished was to spirit her away three years ago right out from under Emmett’s very nose. No mean feat that. Afterward, Bryan had promised to lay low for a while and Lily thought he’d understood just exactly how dangerous Emmett Allen really was. “Is your guy ok? I told you that Emmett could smell a rat from a mile away… no offense to you or your people of course. He’s still alive you said?” Bryan chuckled, regaining his sense of humor. “No offense taken. And yes, he is still alive. But for your information, Miss Allen…. sorry, Miss Ashford, that guy of mine lasted in your father’s organization for…well, since you’ve been gone. He’s good. He knows what guys like Emmett Allen are like, he knows how their organizations function. Or he did until yesterday. Fortunately, we got to him in time before they killed him. Sadly, several of your father’s men did not make it.” Lily sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Well that’ll put you on Emmett’s hunt-down-and-kill list,” she said dryly, “if you weren’t there already. Doesn’t like being made to look foolish or stupid, my father. Which kinda sounds like what happened.” Bryan exhaled wearily like maybe he hadn’t slept in several days. “Lily that’s why we have to move you. We’re pretty sure your father didn’t get much information from our man. He still doesn’t know for certain who he was or who he worked for. But he did get enough to discover that he’d been in there since you left. It did not take long for your father to connect your disappearance with our arrival in his org. It’s a good bet that he’s now convinced that you had a hand in the whole thing and that you have given away state secrets. As you love to point out to me, Emmett is not dumb.” “No,” Lily agreed, “no he’s not.” She gnawed at a corner of her lower lip as she thought about Emmett piecing together that his own daughter had betrayed him because Lily knew that was how he’d take it – as a betrayal. Which, technically it was since she’d turned family and company secrets over to a firm whose primary goal it was to put Emmett Allen behind bars forever. Add to that the fact that she had just up and disappeared one day and, well, she was sure that it was all more than Emmett and Evelyn could deal with. Having a daughter choose to leave the family circle in such an underhanded way most likely had not played well in the Allen’s social circle, and Emmett would surely define sneaking away in the dead of night with no previous warnings as underhanded. Lily rolled her eyes again, she didn’t have to work too hard to imagine her parents’ individual and collective rages, she’d been a witness to those many times during her childhood. And beyond. The thought made her chest ache and she pressed at her sternum with her free hand, ignoring the panicked spinning in her head. “I am not going to let them get to me, I’m not,” she muttered and forced herself to take several slow deep breaths. I am not going to let Emmett and Evelyn scare me or make me fold to their demands, I am not going to let them make me move again. She kept these thoughts running through her head as she considered the last three years of her life. Finally safe here in this relatively unknown German city – unknown to Emmett anyway, at least until today – safe with the American Army, safe in her job. Her assumed name was close enough to her old one that she’d barely noticed the change. She’d made friends, built herself a life and now…now it was all over? No way. If truth be told, it hadn’t occurred to her that Emmett might still be looking for her. Oh sure, she’d expected that he would at first, at least right after she’d escaped his clutches. As she had noted to Bryan, her father did not like being made to look foolish and that’s exactly what she had done. But after three years?! Really? It made no sense! For the love of all that was holy, she was 29, an adult and should have been able to live her own life any way she saw fit, without fear. Clearly, she’d been mistaken. Rage burned in her belly, warming her extremities and coloring her cheeks, and Lily shot up from her seat on the bed, unable to sit still. She paced back and forth in front of her closet and the window, not really seeing through the lace curtains that hung there, or past the beam of afternoon sunlight filtering through the pattern. “I’m not leaving, Bryan,” she said softly, anger clogging her throat, preventing her from speaking any louder. “I won’t.” “What?! Lily are you even listening to what I am saying?” he asked, sounding truly exasperated now. “I am not sure you understand the gravity of the situation. It would be foolish of us both not to consider that your father sent someone out to bring you back the moment he discovered your location, so- “ “No!” she cut him off. “No, I am not moving. When I left my parents’ compound that night I swore to myself that I would not allow Emmett to push me around, frighten me, and I am not giving into him or whatever scare tactics he might decide to use. I am just not. I will take my chances. Look, Emmett might be capable of many things, but he won’t hurt his own daughter. Maybe he will even just leave me alone. Why shouldn’t he after all these years?” “For God’s sake are you hearing yourself?! That’s ridiculous. Don’t ever make assumptions about a man like your father. You’ve told me that yourself, a thousand times! He is more than capable of killing, clearly, and I don’t think it will matter one whit to him that you are his daughter.” His words turned Lily’s blood to ice, and she swallowed hard. She knew Bryan was not wrong, she’d grown up with Emmett, and he was nothing if not cold and ruthless. But still, the idea of leaving Bamberg, her job, this house…well it was untenable, not to be considered. The very thought of it almost made her feel physically sick. “Bryan, I like my life here! I have friends, a house, I love my job! You guys GOT me this job! And now you want me to leave it?” “Of course I do not want you to leave that job, Lily. I don’t want any of this to be happening. But this is for your own safety, never mind that my firm has spent a lot of money getting you where you are and keeping you safe. You are an asset, Lily, an important part of this investigation. You are moving and that’s that. We have no more time to argue about this.” Lily’s eyes widened in surprise at Bryan’s words. He’d never spoken like that to her before. She narrowed her eyes, excess emotion beginning to make her head throb painfully. “No, I am not moving, Bryan,” she finally said making sure her own tone sounded just as definitive as his had, “And here’s why…” She paused to take a breath, the connection of the long-distance call crackling in her ear. “I gave you evidence against Emmett, Bryan. Lots of it, though clearly you don’t or didn’t feel it was enough. Since, ya know, you put a guy in there anyway, despite everything I told you about my father, despite everything you saw when you worked at his warehouse. And now because of your guy, Emmett knows where I am, so thanks for that. In my book that makes us quits and I get to do what I want no matter how much you spent on me, no matter what kind of ‘asset’ you consider me to be. Frankly, I don’t feel I owe you, and so now I am telling you, not asking but telling you. I am not moving again. Let Emmett come and get me if that is what he wants to do. I don’t really care. I’d like to think he’s got better things to do.” These were bold words that made her knees quake, but she held her ground. Like she said, surely after all this time Emmett and Evelyn had moved on, forgotten her. So what if they had found out where she was, it wasn’t like her departure or her telling tales to Bryan’s little security company had had any effect on them anyway. They had no reason to be concerned with her at all. In Lily’s mind she was as quits with them as she was with Bryan. “Honestly, I think maybe you are totally overreacting about all of this, and well maybe being a little selfish.” Bryan groaned. “Jesus, Lily, this is ridiculous.” He was close to shouting at her now and she held the receiver away from her ear, “You are acting like a stubborn, spoiled child. Emmett is completely capable of doing exactly what you think he cannot. Have you forgotten what he’s like…like in the last five seconds?” “Of course not! How could I? I-” “Hang on,” Bryan cut her off, his tone sharp and annoyed. She could hear his voice, muffled now, speaking to someone else, probably in his office. Bryan didn’t seem to have any other place. Lily waited, pacing then stopping to tap her foot impatiently on the carpet, and then pacing again, the hand holding the phone cradle swinging vigorously at her side. The movement whipped its long black cord back and forth until it managed, without her really noticing, to snake itself around her feet, tangling her up. She swore and, sitting down hard, bent to untangle the cord, once again tucking the receiver between ear and shoulder. As she worked to free her feet from the cord she marshaled more reasons why she wasn’t going to move. After a few moments, Bryan returned. “OK, I’m back,” he said, not explaining what he’d been doing, “and I talked to the people I had working on this case and they all agree. Emmett’s going to come after you and he’ll be there sooner than you think. We are out of options-” “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lily cut him off, still sitting on her floor. “What are you talking about? We are not out of options, I don’t care what your ‘folks on the case’ say. There are always options. Though in this case moving is not one of them. I am staying here. You can guard me here, that is an option, but I am not moving. I am sure you have time to get guys here. There’s no way Emmett is going to move that quickly, I’m like 5,000 miles away.” Bryan said nothing, and Lily climbed to her feet again just as a sudden sweep of black, like a flourished cape flashed by her bedroom window, then swirled out of view. “What the…???” She stepped closer to the glass, pressing her nose against it so she could see through the curtains and around the edge of her window. She gasped and ducked so fast that she sat hard on her rear again, awkwardly rolling and scooting herself into the corner between the window and her closet, her heart pounding hard. Oh my god, oh my god. She could barely breathe. Calm down Lily, calm down. On the phone, Bryan was speaking again, and Lily had to work hard to hear him. “Lily, I get that you are pissed about having to move again and I’m sorry,” he sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth and a tense jaw. “You may think that Emmett is willing to let you go, but you have to trust me when I say he’s not. So, as I tried to say before, I’m sending someone over to your house right now to get you. Please be ready to go.” “It’s too late,” Lily said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded when her gut was twisting with a nauseating combination of chagrin and fear. Bryan had been right, she had let her emotions get away from her and now she owed Bryan an apology that she literally had no time for. “What are you talking about?” he demanded warily. “What do you mean it’s too late? Lily, what did you do?” “Nothing! I just mean it’s too late,” she said again. “Lucien is here, he’s outside my flat. I just saw him.” Bryan sucked in a breath and swore. “Did he see you? What’s he doing?” Lily shook her head, rolling it side to side against the wall. “No, I don’t think so. I was sitting on the floor and there are lace curtains over my window and now I’m huddled in a corner out of sight. He can’t see me, and I have no idea what he’s doing. I think he was heading for my front door, though I doubt he’s gonna knock.” “Is your door locked?” Lily’s eyes widened and she frantically tried to remember if she had locked both doors when she got home. She was supposed to but sometimes she forgot. “I think so...wait, hang on a minute…let me listen.” “Lily, wait…don’t expose yourself, stay hidden, stay put…” His warnings sounded frantic. Lily ignored him and pressed the receiver against her stomach muffling the sound of his voice in the material of her bulky sweatshirt and strained to listen. Silence reigned, nobody rattled a door or knocked, though Lily thought she could hear several masculine voices outside. Which meant Lucien had company. Frogs and Coffee! She put the receiver back to her ear. “He’s not trying to get in, but I think he brought friends. I am gonna see, at least if I can see where he is I might be able to figure out what he’s going to do.” “Lily be careful! Don’t do anything rash, help is on the way!” “I won’t, I will be,” She promised, and then placing the cradle of the phone behind her back on the floor listened again for any sounds that might give her a clue as to where Lucien was. They were still out in the back but the masculine voices were fading, moving, as far as she could tell, away from her front door and around the other side of her house. She doubted that meant that Lucien was giving up and leaving. She wasn’t that lucky, Lucien wasn’t that easily deterred. Lily considered her next move. The idea of leaving her room made her feel vulnerable and exposed but better to know what Lucien might be up to than to be surprised and all that much more defenseless. She pressed her back against the wall and slowly pushed herself upwards, leaning over just long enough to get a glimpse out of the window, letting out an explosive breath when she saw nothing lurking beyond the lace curtains. The coast was clear. Feeling a bit safer, she moved out of her corner, nervously looking back over her shoulder with almost every step as she made for her bedroom door. If Lucien and his buddies still lingered anywhere on the path outside the house’s entryway door, she would be much safer in the hallway. They could decide to backtrack and peer in at any moment and see her and that would be disastrous. Moving quickly, Lily tucked around the corner of her bedroom door into the hallway, leaning back against the wall and catching her breath. She’d been holding it in like she was afraid that Lucien might hear her if she allowed herself the luxury of oxygen. Light from the windows of the two bedrooms across the hallway illuminated the broad space but she wasn’t too worried. Those windows were high up off the ground, so unless Lucien could scale the side of the house or had a ladder, she didn’t think they posed any danger. What was dangerous was lingering too long where she stood. If she looked left she could see directly down the hall and through the set of glass doors that sat behind her dining room table. And the curtains at those windows were sheer and see-through. With her dark hair and brilliantly red sweatshirt, she stood out like a bright red flower in a bed of white blooms, not good. Briefly Lily considered peeling herself out of her sweatshirt but the t-shirt she wore beneath was also red. “Who knew clothes were going to be dangerous today,” she muttered, following her own instinct to make herself as small as possible and crouching down to the floor again. If someone passed by that dining room door they’d still see her, Lily knew, but this position made her feel a bit better nonetheless. She skittered diagonally across the hallway as quickly as she could on all fours, the tile floor hard against her knees, coming to a stop at the edge of the wall on the opposite side. From here the bulky shape of her sofa, which sat directly in front of her in her living room, partially hid her from view and that was a good thing. Lily allowed herself to pause again for just a brief second before peeking around the corner of the hallway into the large square main room of her flat. The room itself, brightly lit despite the fading afternoon, was empty except for furniture. Through the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that took up almost the entire front wall of her flat, Lily saw four men gathered in a tight circle, talking and loitering on her front patio, a big octagonal-shaped slab of concrete that looked out over her street and the village beyond. Over the summer a small table and four chairs had occupied that space, but now Lucien and three other men stood there deep in conversation, no doubt discussing exactly how they were going to kill her...

#original work fantasy romance

17 notes · View notes

dearlazerbunny · 5 years ago

Text

Lie to Me (Ch. 8 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1500

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug for doing the lord’s work

Requested Tags: @deraniel @iamverity @yasnooshka24 @wegingerangelica @themusingsofmany @dark-night-sky-99 @tarynkauai @stuffandstuff-stuff and the total sweetie @angelicshinigami

“You’ve been speaking with Thor.”

You don’t glance up from the rough sketch of Mjolnir you’re outlining in your notebook. The runes are a bit tricky to replicate precisely. “Um, yeah. How’d you know?”

He gestures to your drawing. “He let you ‘test your worthiness,’ yes?”

You giggle. “Yeah. Nothing happened, obviously.”

The noise of disapproval that he hums catches you off guard. “I’m disappointed, Witling. I would have thought you were more intelligent than to fall for his ploys. I suppose I was wrong.”

That makes you set your pencil down. The Trickster sounds even grumpier than usual. “His ‘ploys’? What, is he gonna lift my fingerprints off the handle to frame me for a crime I didn’t commit?”

The god, while still angry, now looks thoroughly mystified. “What on Asgard is the nonsense tumbling out of your mouth?”

“I- nothing, never mind. Why do you care if I talk to Thor? He’s sweet, and it’s nice to talk to someone and not feel like they’ll bite off my head for breathing in the wrong direction.”

You give him a pointed look, but it flies right over his head. “No, by all means, let the oaf wrap you around his little finger. Because of course, the true Prince of Asgard, mighty god of thunder, would be a much better companion than the snide, corrupt Loki.” There’s so much bitterness in his voice you could drown in it- and something makes you feel he already has.

“Whoa, hey, that’s- a lot of antagonism there. Are you okay?”

He lets his head rest back against the wall behind him in obviously reluctant defeat. “Even on Midgard, that brute is still the chosen one. I should have known the universe would not know impartiality, no matter the realm.”

“Mmm, yeah, life tends to play favorites a lot, and that favorite is rarely you.” You glance up. “I mean, not you, you in particular. Us, I guess?”

“Us. Do not lie to me, mortal; you know nothing of my life.”

“Well, no, I don’t know what it’s like growing up as a magical demigod prince, you’ve got me there. But I do have an older brother. I know how it feels to grow up in the shade of his shadow.” You glance down at your paper, tapping the butt of your pencil thoughtfully on the table. Oh. “That explains a lot, actually,” you murmur.

“Oh, please, by all means, psychoanalyze me into submission. I look forward to hearing your drivel; it is excellent to amuse myself with when sleep is elusive.”

Glaring at him, you throw your pencil across the room in a vague approximation of his location. It bounces off the glass barrier and clatters to the floor, but for once, the Trickster looks shocked and speechless. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be a prince? How about acting like it for once?”

“You would lecture me about being royalty? You said yourself you have no basis for aristocracy!”

“I don’t, but I sure as hell know they act a lot better than you!” Now you’re both staring at the other, unwilling to be the one to look away first. “Look, I get it. You’re angry, and tired, and sad, but that doesn’t give you the right to lash out whenever you want. Stop bleeding on the people who didn’t hurt you.”

“And who might that be?” Once his tone might have frightened you. Yesterday it would have made you annoyed. Today it just makes you… pensive. Because now you have some puzzle pieces that are starting to fit together, and the picture it shows isn’t all that pretty.

“Me. Everyone else at SHIELD. The entire human race you just tried to enslave,” you add. “Thor.”

With a growl, the Trickster’s gaze traps you in your seat with an intensity you haven’t seen before. “Thor Odinson-” he practically spits his name like a curse- “has always been the favorite. The chosen one. Father’s heir, the people’s love, the golden child. Next to him I might as well be as inconsequential as the sand beneath his feet,” he hisses.

“Because Odin made you feel that way, not Thor! Your father is the one who played favorites, Trickster. He’s the one who made Thor his golden child, and gave him a magical hammer, and groomed him to be the heir. Your father may see you as lesser, but by all accounts Thor values you as his equal.” You pause, thinking back to your conversation. “He said he admires you.”

“Lies.”

“You’re the god of lies; I’d hope you’d be able to distinguish when I’m lying to you.” When he doesn’t respond, you get up, walk over to him, and tap on the cell wall. “Hey. You’re literally in a fishbowl, you can’t just avoid me. Am I lying to you?”

His green eyes search your face, thinking, even though he already knows the answer. “No.”

“No. I’m not. He specifically told me that he doesn’t understand your bookish habits-” you smile a little at that- “but he’s proud of your intelligence all the same.”

“Of course. How could he? That blundering idiot can barely string together two coherent sentences.” You can tell he’s aiming for derision in his voice, but his words aren’t nearly as harsh as they were a minute ago.

“Look, from what I’ve read, Asgard is a warrior’s culture, yes? They value strength, and brawn, and muscles, and how hard you can swing a sword. You’re… not that. Sure, I have no doubt you’re a great fighter, but it’s because you think your way through a battle, not go in there guns blazing and overpower your enemy.” You stop and glance at him, wondering if you’ve gone too far, but he’s actually looking at you with some interest. “It’s like asking a fish to climb a tree. You’re completely out of your element; the scales were tipped against you from the start.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, and you think he’s going to throw your words right back in your face. But to your surprise, the god starts laughing. No, it’s not as hearty as Thor’s, and there’s an underlying bitter sweetness to the sound, but it’s a true, honest laugh. Probably the first one you’ve heard from him. “You say the strangest things, Witling.”

Smiling, you scrunch your nose up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an oddball, I get it. But I’m also right.”

His eyes are slightly out of focus, as though he’s seeing his life through a new lens. “Perhaps.”

“When you start with the short straw time and time again; when you’re punished for doing things differently even though different is in your DNA… you’re going to get frustrated. And you’re going to get resentful. And eventually, there’s going to be an explosion.” Your expression is resigned as you look at him. “It’s not fair. And I’m sorry that’s what you had to deal with for a thousand years.”

His eyes are more thoughtful than you’ve ever seen them. “I cannot remember a time when someone apologized to me sincerely.”

“Thor probably tried, but he didn’t know how. Words are your thing, not his.”

“Indeed.” He nods to himself, seemingly settling an argument only he can hear. “May I ask you a question, Witling?”

“What? I mean-” you shake off your surprise- “Sure, Loki. Of course you can.”

Something in his expression brightens just a hint, though you’re not sure why. “Do you not prefer Thor to me?”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Trickster? Losing your annoying sidekick?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “You are not my sidekick. At best you are an unfortunate reoccurring side-bit.”

You snort. “Look, I like Thor a lot. He’s friendly, though he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and very… loud,” you say. “Kinda like a golden retriever. Lots of energy, bounding all over the place, leaping before they look. But I like that I can have a good conversation with you. You think, and you’ve got a sharp tongue, and you’re a bit of an enigma. If Thor is a golden retriever, you’re a witch’s familiar.” You give him a shrug and a smile. “And I’ve always been a cat person, anyways.”

“Color me relieved.”

“You’re the one who asked! Can’t have my favorite god getting jealous now can we?”

“Jealousy over someone implies they are something you covet. You are an annoyance. Thor can gladly take you.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll just go find him.” You gather your stuff, taking your sweet time putting it all away in your bag and watching Loki struggle to find a way to keep you from going. Because he doesn’t want you to go. Not really.

“Witling.”

You look over your shoulder. “Yeeeeeeeees?”

His gaze is very conveniently anywhere but on you. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

There’s a little smile on your face as you respond. “Yeah, Loki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A/N: I’d say from here on out things take a turn from fluff to more purposeful conversations :)

99 notes · View notes

tommyparkerr · 5 years ago

Text

Promises BONUS II | Peter Parker x Reader

I’m back with a second bonus y’all! Some of you have been asking for it, so here it is! I want to thank @laureharrier for being both my hype woman and the one keeping me sane when Tumblr decides to throw all kinds of sh*t at me like the little sh*t it is.

Anyways, sorry about that (I still have some residual anger leftover from my *situation*, so...yeah)! There’ll only be one more bonus left after this (at least, from what I have planned), but thank you to all of you who are sticking with me after all this time! This is for you!:)

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Tears (but happy ones), Peter being a little sh*t, Irondad, fluff, and basically everything soft that doesn’t constitute a warning

-Masterlist-

P R O M I S E S - B O N U S T W O :

Tony wasn’t sure what’d woken him at first. His heart wasn’t racing and he wasn’t sweating, so it wasn’t from a nightmare; his mind was strangely quiet along with the rest of the Tower, so it wasn’t because of the noise; Pepper was sleeping peacefully next to him, a soft smile on her face, so it wasn’t because of his wife’s missing presence.

He didn’t know why he’d woken up. But he did know that he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

As quiet as possible, Tony carefully rolled out of bed and exited the bedroom, headed toward the kitchen where he could make himself some coffee at—he glanced at the clock—two-thirty in the morning. However, his plans changed when he went to pass through what was supposed to be an empty living room.

The faint sound of a turning page caused him to stop in his tracks, looking toward the noise.

A figure sat curled up on the couch (well, as curled up as she could be with a pregnant belly), glasses on her face and hair in a half-hearted bun as she intently read whatever book was in her hands. Tony’s chest went warm at the sight of his daughter-in-law wearing his son’s baggy MIT sweatshirt and old gym shorts.

After a couple moments’ of debating whether he should tiptoe back to his room and leave her be, he decided there was never a better time than 2:30am to get some bonding time in with his adopted daughter.

God, Rhodey was right—he had gone soft.

“You do realize it’s 2:30 in the morning, right?” he asked, keeping his voice low enough not to disturb the others on the floor but loud enough for Y/N to hear. She startled, whipping her head around and straightening up to peek over the back of the couch. She looked relieved to see it was him (versus Peter, he was guessing, who was more than overprotective of his wife and child-to-be at this point in the pregnancy) and relaxed immediately, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

“I do.”

“Then why are you still up?” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t being nine months pregnant supposed to make you tired all the time or something?”

Y/N smirked. “I’m pretty sure the same applies to being old, Grandpa Pops.”

Tony raised his hands in surrender, chuckling as he went on his original route to the kitchen. “Touché, Ms. Parker.”

Other than a small laugh from her, the soft sounds of Tony getting the tea kettle out, and the turning of pages, the room went quiet again. Though his daughter was hiding the dark circles under her eyes far too expertly for him to be comfortable with, Tony was used to the technique of using humor to cover up whatever he was facing—whether that be sleep deprivation, a constant state of anxiety, or visions of being thrown into his worst nightmares over and over again, he knew the tactic well, and he wasn’t about to let someone else get away with it.

He wondered if maybe this was why he’d woken up.

When the tea was finished (no coffee since Tony knew Y/N couldn’t have much caffeine), he traipsed over to the couch and offered one of the steaming mugs to the obviously exhausted woman across from him. She laid her book down and took it with a grateful smile, muttering a small, “Thank you,” and taking a sip. They drank in silence for awhile, looking out the window at the nightscape of New York City. Tony saw it every night, but rarely did he take the time to appreciate it; now, with nothing else to do, he could. As he turned to look at the girl beside him, looking unusually small in Peter’s clothes (where he remembered the MIT sweatshirt had once been his, but Peter had stolen it years ago before he went to school and had now seemingly made its way down to the next person), he couldn’t help but open his mouth.

“Sometimes I forget that you married into this family,” Tony said softly, seeing her confused look out of the corner of his eye. “You have so much Parker in you that it’s like you’ve been here all along. I can barely remember the days you and Peter weren’t glued to the other’s hip.”

A mischievous smile adorned her lips. “Are you sure that isn’t because of old age, too?” Tony finally looked at her with a knowing look, his eyebrows raised as he took another sip of his tea. The smile didn’t drop, but rather morphed into something softer as she looked back toward the city. “May told me that, too. But you’re leaving out one important thing.”

“Oh?” Tony said with a amused glint in his eye, fully expecting another round of sarcasm to break through. “And what is that, may I ask?”

“That by marrying Peter, I’m not just a Parker; I’m a Stark, too. I think both of the Parkers made that pretty clear to me from day one,” she said, her tone soft and loving. “You did, too, though it was never verbal.”

Tony’s smile had dropped, a sudden burning in his eyes replacing it. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and said, a crack in his voice, “Come here, kiddo.”

Y/N turned to see his arm raised and smiled before scooting closer and ducking underneath it, resting her head on his shoulder. “If I spill any of my scalding hot tea on your cashmere robe, it’s your fault.”

Tony snorted, his tears crawling back into their holding places. “I wouldn’t dream it any other way.”

This time it was quiet until they had both finished their tea, setting the empty mugs on the empty table in front of them. He’d clean that up later, but for now he was perfectly content. He let the silence go on a little longer before he squeezed Y/N’s arm and spoke up again.

“I’m guessing Peter has no idea you haven’t been sleeping?”

She pursed her lips. “How do you know I haven’t been sleeping?”

“I think the raccoon look speaks for itself, kiddo,” Tony said, pointing under his own eyes for reference. “That is if I didn’t already know what sleep deprivation looked like.”

A small sigh. “No. No, he doesn’t. And you’re not going to tell him, either.”

“Woah now, tiger,” Tony said defensively. “No one said I was going to.” She looked down at her now empty hands, picking at her nails in order to keep them busy. Tony frowned and nudged her arm again. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and her hands flew up to try to keep them from overflowing. “I’m sorry—God, I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.” Tony, who once would have been freaked out by even the slight glistening of one’s eye, didn’t bat a lash at the influx of tears. Only worry rose from it.

“Honey-”

“I’m okay,” she interrupted. At his look of disbelief she shook her head with a wobbly smile. “Really, I am. I just—I’m super emotional right now and my hormones are dialed up to, like, eleven, or twelve, maybe possibly thirteen and a half. Any little thing can set me off already, but being sleep deprived probably doesn’t help. And you’ve never called me ‘honey’ before, just ‘kiddo’ or ‘Ms. Parker’ or other little nicknames—not that I mind, of course, because I really do feel like I’m just as important to this family as anyone else when you give me nicknames—and I guess it just kinda struck the sentimental part of me. I’m sorry.”

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle, adjusting them so he could get both arms around her. When he thought about it, he couldn’t remember any other time he’d called Y/N ‘honey’, which seemed crazy to him since he’d referred to her as that particular endearment many times in his own head. “No need to apologize, kiddo. I’ve seen hormones in action and know of way less that’s made a girl cry. In fact, I’d say you’re keeping everything contained pretty well; you haven’t even screamed at me once when I manage to burn the omelets every morning.”

A watery laugh escaped her, muffled by his chest. “I do in my head.”

It was Tony’s turn to laugh now, holding her a little tighter as he placed a kiss on her head. “And for that, I applaud you. Pepper’s not even pregnant and she yells at me—not in her head, may I add—every day.” A giggle, then just periodic sniffles. Tony gave her a little bit of time before pushing again. “Now, do you wanna tell me why you aren’t sleeping at night?”

It was quiet for a long while—long enough that Tony thought she either hadn’t heard him or had chosen to ignore the question—before she answered. “I don’t know. I just...I lay down and I’m so completely exhausted that it should be easy, and Peter falls asleep easy enough and I’m just stuck inside my own head thinking about the next month and how we could become parents at any minute, and even though we already have a name picked out for her and we talk to her every night, it’s going to be so much different when she’s actually born, right? And then-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony interrupted, pulling back to look at Y/N with a sparkle in his eye. She frowned, her eyes widening a moment later as she realized her mistake. “She?”

“Um…” She swallowed, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “Yes?”

A wide grin spread across Tony’s lips, struggling to contain the burst of happiness at the news. “I thought you said you were going to wait until the baby was born to find out the gender,” he said, his entire face lit up. It made Y/N smile, and suddenly she didn’t feel so guilty that she’d let that piece of information slip.

“We were,” she answered. “But then we decided we didn’t want to wait and didn’t tell anyone else in order to keep it a surprise for them.”

“So it’s a girl?” he asked, and Y/N laughed at his giddy excitement.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “You’re going to have a granddaughter.”

Tony pulled her in for another hug. Then, as the rest of her confession rolled back through his brain, he realized that wasn’t the only important information she’d let slip. “Can I tell you something, kiddo?” A soft hum was the only confirmation he needed to continue. “I know you’re nervous about this whole parenting thing, and God, I don’t think there’ll ever be a day where parenting isn’t nerve wracking, but as long as you love that little girl with all your heart and show that love to her every day, I think you’re going to be just fine.”

Y/N looked up at him, her lips wobbling. “I’m afraid I’m going to be a bad mom.”

“You won’t be,” Tony said without hesitation.

“But how do you know?”

A soft smile graced Tony’s lips. “Because what I said about loving her with all your heart and showing that every day? You’re already doing that, which kind of makes you the best mom in the whole world, and that little girl is so lucky to have you.”

Now Y/N broke down, quickly shoving her face back into Tony’s shoulder to stifle her cries and (hopefully) keep from waking anyone else. Tony closed his eyes and gently rocked her, rubbing her back in small circles.

“Thank you,” she later said, tears still clogging up her voice. “For everything. For taking me in and loving me like you would your own and making me tea at two in the morning and letting us all move in so you can help out with the baby and keep an eye on me while Peter can’t and for walking me down the aisle because my dad and mom couldn’t be there to do that or to see their grandchild be born and—I just...thank you,” she finished breathlessly.

Tony lovingly placed another kiss on her head. “What else are dads for?”

“You know,” Y/N laughed, sniffling as she did, “if you didn’t know this baby was a girl, I’d say you were buttering me up to name her after you.”

“Who says I’m not?” Tony joked. “I think Anthony Parker has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Taking Tony by surprise, Y/N pulled out of his hold and grabbed his hand, moving it to rest on her stomach. Tony blinked in awe as he felt his granddaughter kick, mesmerized by the life just inches away from him.

“How does Mary-Jane Virginia Parker sound?” Y/N quietly asked, watching her father-in-law carefully to gauge his reaction. He didn’t speak for a few moments, tears gathering in his eyes at all of his granddaughter’s namesakes—Peter’s mother, one of the couple’s best and lifelong friends, and Pepper—Pepper-

This time, he didn’t even try to fight it when a tear slipped down his cheek. “It sounds perfect.”

“I never thought I’d see the day my wife made the almighty Tony Stark cry,” came a voice from the hallway. They both startled, whipping their heads around to see Peter casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed and hair mussed from sleep, wearing a small, amused smile. “Though, if anyone were to do it, I suppose she would be the one to.”

Instead of responding, Tony simply rolled his eyes and scooted over, patting the newfound space between him and Y/N. “Get over here, you twit.”

Peter chuckled but made his way over anyway, plopping on the cushions and putting a protective arm around his wife. Y/N leaned into him, looking sheepish at being caught but not all too apologetic.

“So much for that secret, huh?” Peter said teasingly, kissing her forehead to assure her he wasn’t really mad.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Tony said, his eyes still lit up in joy, “I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah, to everyone but May and Pepper.”

Tony faked outrage. “Hey now! That’s no way to talk to your old man!” Peter gave him a look that said, ‘Am I wrong?’ while Y/N giggled, and Tony huffed. “I only tell them my secrets when they know I’m keeping one.”

“Oh, and that’s the only time you ever let a secret spill, huh?”

“Listen here, smartass-“ Cutting himself off, Tony grabbed Peter away from Y/N and wrestled him into a headlock. Peter simultaneously was laughing and trying to push him away as Tony gave him a noogie, messing up his hair even more.

Once Peter finally shoved him away, all three of them were laughing and it was the greatest sound Tony had ever heard, especially after the recent hardship his son and daughter-in-law had gone through. He and several others were worried when it didn’t resolve within the first few days and even more so when they heard that the word ‘divorce’ was thrown around once—once, and only once, but that was enough. And he had hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because he knew he’d stand by Peter’s side no matter what, but leaving the girl he’d practically adopted as his own behind would take its own toll on him.

Sometimes Tony still worried. With every little fight and every raised voice, his anxiety rose. But seeing Peter and Y/N now, the former kissing Y/N’s cheek with a smile while the latter continued to giggle, Tony knew everything would be okay.

With no warning the man swept both of them into a hug, kissing the tops of their heads. “I love you, kiddos,” he said quietly.

“I love you, too,” they both replied, Peter wrapping his arms around his father figure. Y/N followed close behind, though she couldn’t squeeze him as tight due to her protruding belly.

“Mary-Jane loves you, too, Grandpa Pops,” Y/N said quietly, making all three pairs of eyes in the room water. And for once, Tony was actually looking forward to what life handed him next, because Mary-Jane Virginia Parker was loved, and she was perfect.

---

Promises Tag List: @mintaeroandmerlin @thehollandfam @trumpettay @ganggangganggg @secretagentben @rayanismybae* @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @shewhoshallnotswear @slytherpuffyy @mutuallynotmutual* @the-kylialovesyou @babebenhardy @lilbeatlebear @obsessive-fangirl44

Permanent Tag List: @lemirabitur @my-meant-to-find-blog @jongindeepbreath @tomspideyweb@farfromjustordinary @tomsstarlight @delicately-written @catstielanddeanthedog @tom-holland-and-textposts @spiderman-n @wtfholland @hollandandi @starsholland @celestialparker @beautiful-holland @spideycentral-1 @laurfangirl424 @laureharrier @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @smexylemony @antifaspiderman @trashqueenbitch @fireboltrose7559 @propertyofmarvel @perhaps-he-schnapped @ofserien @mariemrose @toxic-pineapple @chewymoustachio @captainstartights

#promises #bonus two #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker fandom #peter parker au #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spider man fic #spider man imagine #spider man fandom #spider man au #series #marvel

81 notes · View notes