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1kook · 4 years

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ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away.

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.

Apparently not.

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right.

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.

This man was dangerous for your heart.

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

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neko-rogers · 4 years

Text

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship,

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

“It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is.

Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

“Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike.

The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day.

To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

“It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

“Oh okay, sure.”

“Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

“I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

“I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

“What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

“I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

He does not argue with you any further.

“Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs.

At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

“Okay.”

He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

“Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

“It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

“Are you sure? I–”

And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

“Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

“Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

“Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same.

“It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

“I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

“Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.”

In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face.

“Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you.

“Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

“Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

“And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

“Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

“I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

“Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

“Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

“Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.”

As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow.

And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

“Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

“Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

“Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

“Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

“Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

“Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

“Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

“I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

“Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

“Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

“Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

“Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

“Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

“Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

“It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

“Uhm.” You were doubtful of him.

However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

“Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

“Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

“I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

“Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

“Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

“Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

“No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

“I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones.

You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

“Was is it?”

“I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

“Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

“Peter, I–”

“Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

What. The. Fuck.

“No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

Lastly, you turned around and ran.

You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

“Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void.

From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

Hell please let this be a nightmare.

“What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

“Uhh.”

That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

“That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

“Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess.

“If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

“Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–” “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

“Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

“We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

“Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

“I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

“What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face.

“P-please let me go.”

“I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate.

Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

“Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

“I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

“I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

“You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words.

“Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

“Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper.

Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

“I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

“No–”

He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

“You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

“Sorry, babe.”

He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

“Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

“You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

“Oh,” you moan.

He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

“I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

“You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

“Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

“You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

“We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

“I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead.

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires.

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice.

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor.

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach.

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess.

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom.

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time.

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was.

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers.

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody.

#annie #annie leonhart x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #princess!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #annie leonhart x you

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mojwisungie · 4 years

Text

hc | boyfriend ♡

req (from: anon) ➥ : read the mark-jaemin boyfriend, and then then renjun-jisung boyfriend headcanons,,, can you do one for the remaining members? thank you~~

☄︎ with: lee jeno, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle ☄︎ lou.note: this has been in my wips for so long im sorry anonie but here i am to give it you guys as an offering for my birthday (its tomorrow on the 26th but anyway) hehe hope you all enjoy <3

ੈ⋆ mark & jaemin ver. | renjun & jisung ver.

Jeno

the observing, supportive boyfriend

jeno doesnt pay much attention to things that arent important

but YOU are important

you mean so much to him, and thats still an understatement

he often thinks that by paying attention to you and everything you do

he'll know you in a way no one else does

at this point, he knows everything about you

your favorite sweater (which he owns), favorite color, favorite artists, favorite songs, etc.

jeno actually knows your order by heart even if it varies in different restaurants

his mantra is actually happy y/n = happy jeno ^_^

thats also the reason why fights dont usually happen

he knows when its too much for you and so he will do what he thinks is best for the situation

anyways: dates with jeno are either doing physical activities or plain cuddling on the couch

it would mostly be him who initiates dates like hiking, biking, etc.

but, he would also always check with you if youre okay with it or if you want to rest

one time you asked him for a day in those sport grounds ?? like those places that has random games like wall-climbing, archery, and trampolines

oh this boy has the biggest smile on his face asking you, “hold on love, are you serious ( ◕▿◕ ) ?”

during hectic weeks, he’s definitely up for movie marathons

if he still has some energy, he will make a blanket fort for the both of you

also jeno lee is a cuddle bug (you cannot change my mind, this case is closed)

and so he’ll use these lazy dates to indulge in hugging you for as long as he can

on the supportive note, he always reassures you with the kindest words

AND hes the type of guy who will ask you if you need comfort or solutions when you rant to him T﹏T

and that is actually proof that he is the best support system

he'd be your hype man when you need a push

thinking of auditioning for a club? go ahead, he'll teach you what he knows

want to try a new hobby and start journaling? he'll help you find cute stickers (and he'll buy them too)

he will always help in whatever way he can, and he will constantly assure you that he’s there for you as you have been for him

he is reserved, quiet, and keep things on the down low, yet with you, he’s entirely different

jeno loves you just as you love him, and he’ll do everything to prove it to the world- you.

Haechan

the enthusiastic, soft boyfriend

he is!! literally!! the sun!!

he often calls you often in the morning to wake you up, greeting you with the loveliest voice saying, “good morning darling, how was your sleep?” SADKJASD

if he’s free, he’ll actually drop by yours to bring breakfast and eat with you

and if ever you still live with your family, you bet that once you slip into the kitchen he’s chatting up with your parents like he’s their son

actually... he technically is

he loves going out with you and your family as much as he loves going out with his

hyuck is very family-oriented, you really dont have to plead to him if you want him to come to a gathering

as long as you say yes to him inviting you to their family activities too 😌

he once asked you to go with him to this intimate family dinner his relatives organized

and you ask him, “are you sure im allowed to go? the invitation in the email complete says Lee Family and clearly.. im not-”

this man didnt even let you finish and says, “BUT YOU WILL BE!! SOON!! I WILL MARRY YOU!! baby come on just please come with me!!!”

he means it though

you dont know it, but the thought of spending the rest of his life with you often comes into his mind

and so dates with him can be both ends of the spectrum

you guys could go for fancy restaurants, amusement parks, and even late night computer games (if you dont play, he’ll teach you dont worry <3)

but there are also domestic dates such as grocery shopping, helping each other babysit nephews/nieces, and the such

its obvious to every one that haechan is so soft for you

and he doesnt care what other people say

one time, mark heard him talk to you in the cutest, softest voice and laughed... and regretted it bc haechan turned to him in the most serious face and the deepest tone saying, “and so?”

as much as possible, he wants you to feel loved bc thats what you make him feel

despite this, arguments are still there, but it doesnt go on for long

fights dont escalate as you both work together against the problem

so at the end of the day, no feelings are hurt or turned a blind eye to

disagreements are often rooted from the nature of work though, thats why every time things arent so fine, he’ll do his best to fix it

because he treasures his time with you and the love you both invest in

he didnt value time that much before, bc he’s so used to putting up with whatever that comes his way

but when you came into his life, he realized it is indeed precious

haechan spends every second loving you beyond infinity

Chenle

the parental, sincere, affectionate boyfriend

you’ve seen him rant, right?

he’ll do that often, but only when its about you not getting what you need

others may not see it, but he’s really concerned when its about you so he’ll do anything to make sure youre well taken care of

if you havent eaten yet bc youre too busy going over your notes for your exams, he’ll buy you your favorite food and feed it to you

all the while talking about how you shouldnt put aside eating bc its important to eat meals at the right time

this guy solves old math problems when he has time to spare, so he’ll be okay with you coming to for help whenever you struggle with your lessons

as cliché as it may be, he will also get you the stuff you need- whether it may be for school or for your personal shenanigans

you complained about your laptop once, saying it keeps on lagging

he deadass goes, “do you wanna go and buy a new one now?” 💀

he just wants you to do well in the stuff you do, okay ??

chenle is blunt about pretty much everything in your relationship too

he tells you all the stuff he knows he should tell you

including embarrassing moments of his members

the dreamies cant joke around with you too much,, bc they know you know everything (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

but jokes aside, sometimes his honesty can be cause of some arguments

bc he gets too straight-forward at times and ends up unintentionally hurting you :((

and when you explain why it made you feel that way, he’s lost bc he thinks he was just saying the truth

but as time passes, he will learn how to be upfront with you without having to sadden you

please be patient with him as he is with you 👉🏼👈🏼

anyhow, dates with him would always be one for the books

if you ever think that he probably doesnt remember the dates you wanna go on to, youre wrong

bc its all listed in his mind and he’s determined to tick every single one from the list

when he’s busy or away on tour, facetimes would be a regular thing

he’s prepared with the timezones and he will remind you to sleep when you should, no buts y/n

if you tell him you cant just drift off, he’ll always offer to sing you to sleep

and when you do, he’ll take lots of pictures to treasure the little moments he has with you

some people tell him he looks too deeply in love

but he doesnt really see anything wrong with it because it was with you

chenle completely knows that he loves you so much, and he’s willing to love you until forever

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tobesensation-9 · 3 years

Note

Earlier, I was cramming for bio and could just imagine how much Youngbin and Inseong would nag me for leaving it to the last minute, with Taeyang making some coffee and Chanhee out like a light, asleep the minute he opened the textbook because we had a physics exam last week. How do you think cramming/pulling an all-nighter with each member of SF9 as your study buddy would be like - individually - can you lease make this light a scenario for each member? ik ur busy, k ily bye.

😂😂

Why do I see that too. Especially Chanhee 😂. And I love the requests you guys send, it gives me an escape from my hectic college and work life. (This also late but I thought it was timely with my finals around the corner 💀)

Youngbin

“You have to make sure your careful about this stuff.” He’d come over to you at the table where you sat, handing you some healthy snacks to help you stay focused.

“Yeah I know. I had a lot on my plate.”

He takes his hand and reaches across your shoulder and caresses it.

“Don’t stress yourself too much. But make sure you get enough studying in okay?”

Inseong

You’d ask him to help you study for the test and he’d oblige. Only to find out that you were cramming. He’d be peeved from you not telling him about cramming on such short notice.

“How-“

“I can explain.”

“How do you expect me to help you study when the test is tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry h should’ve told you that.”

“Okay, it’s a good thing I’m good at this I think you’ll be alright.”

Jaeyoon

He tries to comfort you as he sees you trying to cram for your test. He feels helpless wishing he could do more to help you.

He approaches you at the table and hovers hoping you’d notice him and ask him to help you with something.

“Jaeyoon?”

“Hmm?” He looks down at you realizing he was noticed.

“Do you wanna help me with something?”

“Yeah...I mean I can if you want me to.”

“I need a hug, I’m stressing out.” You turn around in your chair and hug him. He smiles and caresses your back seeing how stressed you were. “You got it, don’t stress out,” he says.

Dawon (Sanghyuk)

Why do I see him trying to help you with the subject as he knew what he was doing 💀. Not saying Dawon isn’t smart. But he’d read certain concepts as if he knew but in actuality knew nothing about them 💀.

“Oh biology? I nailed that back in school this is nothing.” He closes the book and puts its down as if he’s ready to school you on something.

“Okay?” You look at him confused. Him being confident scared you more than excite you.

“I let’s go over the concepts”

“Do you not know wh

You look at the flash cards and

Zuho (Juho)

So get ready to try to calm this guy down. Although it’s YOUR test, he panics at not being able to help you. Think of “Taeyang-shii” energy but x10 with him yelling your name instead.

“Y/n!!”

“What? Why are you yelling at me?!”

“What happened to preparing for your tests by giving yourself enough time to study?”

“I’m cramming bc I forgot. I don’t like cramming but that’s what I have to do. Are you gonna help me or not?”

“I’ll try my best 🥲🥺. But I may not be of any help I’m such short notice.”

Rowoon (Seokwoo)

When I say he would annoy you so much 😂. Yes Youngbin and Inseong wound nag, but that wouldn’t be nagging compared to this guy.

“So how long did you know about this?”

“A while. But I got sidetracked from all of my other classes so I forgot.”

“Ah. So you were being careless.”

“Where are you getting this from? I wasn’t careless it just slipped my mind.”

“Get a planner. Put it in your calendar. Make a reminder.”

“I did. That’s why I’m cramming now.”

He’d make you some food and a drink as if he didn’t just annoy you and try to help you study. From the good food he made you, you almost forgot about him being a jackass prior. Almost. He’d run your head or back and caress it as his way of cheering you on in your studies.

Taeyang

Yes like you said I see Taeyang just not being in your way and making you or getting you coffee. He would try to help you any way he could, without distracting you.

It would be 12 am when he saw you yawning and stretching backing away from your textbook and notebook. You’d get to stretch too and yawn three more times before you noticed him looking at you with a small smile.

“What?”

“You yawned like four times in the last 30 seconds.”

“I did?” You’d sheepishly scratch your hair while he got up and left the small private study room you guys were in. He’d come back a few minutes with your coffee made just the way you like it.

Hwiyoung (Youngkyun)

No but why do I see him having to cram for a test with you 😅😂.

You’d text him telling him to meet you at your favorite study spot so he can help you cram for a test. Then he’d text you back saying he was gonna text you asking the same thing 😂.

“Which lessons did we have to know for chapter 3?”

“I don’t think he went over chapter 3.”

“What? We didn’t?”

“Yeah we’re only getting tested on chapters 1, 2 & 4.”

“Where have I been?”

Chani (Chanhee)

Oh he’d be out for sure 😂. That or he’d be confused like Hwiyoung but x10. Like he wouldn’t even know what the test was on, let alone have some idea of what to go over (like Hwiyoung). But he’d still end up finessing the test and passing without trying (without cheating) 💀.

“Chanhee c’mon the test is at noon tomorrow.”

“No I thought it was next Tuesday.”

“Yeah, professor said that last week.”

“I don’t remember that are you sure?”

#sf9 #SF9 imagine #SF9 imagines #SF9 fanfic #SF9 smut #SF9 humor #SF9 Drabble #sf9 scenarios #youngbin #inseong #Jaeyoon #Dawon #zuho #Rowoon #Taeyang #hwiyoung #Chani

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15-dogs · 4 years

Note

hey there i’m in need of more cedric fanfic 🥺 so can i request 11 from prompt list 3 with cedric and a female reader? thank you ❤️

bet on it |c.d.|

pairing: cedric diggory x fem!reader

summary: you were quite good at betting and enjoyed it quite a bit, but no one could have bet how far off your plan could be

prompt: “you owe me a kiss.”

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name

word count: 2043

a/n: ask and you shall receive! may I just say that I literally said “aw” out loud when I read this bc it’s so freaking adorable?? thank you for requesting hope you enjoy!!

“Come on!” you groaned. You loosened your house tie as it suddenly felt as if it were strangling you. You were currently placing bets with the Weasley twins about which student's cauldron would explode first. Fred had picked the genius of the class because he claimed that she was a diamond in the rough of stupidity, George had picked the introvert at the back of the class who had spent more time doodling than taking notes, and you had picked the distracted young witch who was studying for an exam she had next period.

It really was no competition. You were a sucker for a good challenge. That’s truly how you became friends with the twins.

You heard someone calling your name from behind you but you didn’t spare a glance. Then it happened again as you watched your chip’s potion bubble over. You bounced your leg in preparation. Finally, a firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and pulled you around just as a loud popping noise signaled from behind you.

“No!” you shouted, turning around to see the witch covered in spoiled potion. “I missed it.”

“Yeah, but you still won,” grumbled Fred as he and his twin slapped a few coins on the desk.

“Ace,” you said proudly.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes now!” Cedric complained from behind you. It was almost pathetic how fast you turned around.

You met his blue eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. You had fallen for Cedric quite some time ago and the twins made it their mission in life to partner you two up. You had disagreed with nearly everything that they had suggested, already having your own little plan for you two would get together. However, through the twins, you two had quickly taken to being friends, spending hours together talking about anything and everything you could. But, you see, he didn’t like you back and that threw an immovable wrench in your plan.

“H-hi,” you stammered. He let out a soft chuckle that had you completely unglued.

“(Y/N),” Fred began, breaking the tension between you and Cedric.

“We were thinking,” George chimed in.

“There’s gonna be a party tonight in the Gryffindor common room-”

“And we were hoping you and pretty boy would come.”

The twins exchanged a small glance before they asked in unison, “Would you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t want to make Cedric feel obligated even though you desperately wanted to go. You floundered for a moment before your body went rigid, Cedric’s hands sliding onto your shoulders and delivering a soft massage.

“We’d love to,” he answered.

“Brilliant!” the twins cried as they got up from their desk. As soon as they left, Cedric sunk into their seat.

“Sorry I answered for you, I just assumed-”

“I wanted to go anyway!” you blurted out. Your face turned red with embarrassment. That stupidly handsome boy always brought out the worst of you.

“Perfect,” he said with a nod. He got up from the chair and took a few steps away before leaning down by your ear. His hot breath fanned against you as he whispered, “See you tonight.”

Merlin, that boy would be the death of you.

You arrived at the party in something more casual than your uniform. Your eyes scanned the room for Cedric but you were torn away when Fred and George tugged you to the side. You stumbled into them with a glare, evoking a small snicker from both of them.

“(Y/N) and Cedric sitting in a tree,” they sang horrendously. You shook your head and covered your ears teasingly.

“You’re hideous!”

“I should hope not,” Cedric said from behind you. Your stomach did a flip as you slowly removed your hands and turned on the balls of your feet, blatantly tuning out the twins’ laughs.

“Not...not you, Gred and Forge...I meant Gred and Forge! Merlin, I did it again.” Your night couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing. Even Cedric was laughing now.

“What’s so funny?” Fred asked. “Those are our names, aren’t they, Forge?”

“No, you git! I’m Gred, you’re Forge!”

Nope, it got way more embarrassing.

Cedric, a smile still on his face, took your hand in his and pulled you away from the twins. You purposely ignored the kissing noises they made as he dragged you away. You two landed by the refreshments table— well, table was a nicer term for whatever you were standing by. It was simply stacks of boxes lazily thrown together with cups and bottles of pumpkin juice and firewhiskey which you assumed the twins had brought.

“Let me get you a drink,” he offered. You nodded gratefully. You looked around the party as Cedric poured you something, your eyes locking on a game of spin the bottle. Cedric placed the cup in your hand and whispered, “You want to play?”

Merlin, his voice. It was raspy and dreamy and everything you could have ever wanted. It was like a charm in itself, persuading you to say whatever was on your mind.

“Only if you’ll play with me.” You sunk into yourself as the words left your mouth, fearing that Cedric really and truly would run. Instead, Cedric took your hand and escorted you to the betting teens.

A few spins went by, people cheering and whooping at the awkwardness of it. Finally, it was your turn and you had bet Angelina Johnson two galleons that you would go through with it. The offer almost offended you— since when had you ever stepped down from a challenge?

You gave Angelina a playful smirk before spinning the bottle swiftly. It slowed, and slowed, and slowed, until it finally stopped.

No.

This was your worst nightmare and your dream come true all at once. Cedric stared you down, a grin tugging at his lips. You blushed heavily while rubbing your sweaty palms on your clothing.

“I believe now’s the part when we kiss, love,” he teased, the group around you chuckling softly.

So this was really happening. You scooted a little closer so that he was only inches away from you. Everything about him was incredibly powerful up close. His handsomeness was almost hypnotic.

Cedric, noticing that you wouldn’t make the first move, began to lean in. But you couldn’t go through with it. You jumped to your feet and mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, “Not like this.”

And then you were gone.

You were lucky enough to not be in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff which allowed you to avoid Fred, George, and Cedric for as long as you needed to. Unfortunately for you, you only had classes with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs for the day.

Fred and George wouldn’t even tease you about what happened at the party. You knew it looked bad, but was it that bad? Apparently so.

When Cedric appeared in your Charms class, you gasped. You ducked your head and slid into a seat next to a random Hufflepuff. You couldn’t look in his direction for the whole class. You didn’t know what you had expected, for him to not show up to class?

You tried, you really did, to focus on the lecture but it was just not distracting enough from the fact that your longtime crush whom you rejected sat a few seats away from you. You could practically feel his eyes trained on your back.

You decided to fiddle with your quill in hopes of tuning out of everything, and boy did that work. It wasn’t until a familiar voice called your name that you realized how long you had been zoned out— class was over!

“(Y/N)!” Cedric cried. Your eyes snapped up towards him and you froze under his stare. You instantly scrambled to get your things and bolt but Cedric cut you off. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You took a few steps back at his sudden closeness while you sheepishly muttered, “Um, dinner?”

“I don’t think so.” He feigned confusion.

“Is...is that so?” Your mouth felt incredibly dry. He was so close. Every part of you wanted to kiss him but you simply couldn’t, not there, not then.

“I believe you owe me a kiss.”

You shook your head, almost to test if you had heard him right. He seemed to notice how shocked you were and a one sided smirk pulled at his lips. Your body coursed with adrenaline as your heart thundered in your chest. The way he was looking at you had you weak in the knees, it was almost too much to bear.

Cedric took your anxious stammers and glances at his lips as a signal. He tilted his head slightly as he leaned in to kiss you, his eyes slowly fluttering shut. You jumped backwards with a squeak.

“Huh?” he asked, his eyes opening. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. Listen, I was only teasing you. If you don’t actually fancy me then we don’t have to-”

“I fancy you!”

Well, that certainly wasn’t scripted. Cedric just made you talk and talk, abandoning any hope of whatever you had in mind for how you two would end up together.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I forfeited my first bet for you a few nights ago! Now I’m down two galleons and a reputation!”

Cedric stared at you incredulously before delving into a deep laughter. You didn’t know what was so funny. Cedric wiped a tear from his eye as he asked, “So that’s what that meant? ‘Not like this’ in terms of betting?”

Well now you felt downright guilty. You scuffed your shoes along the floor, avoiding his piercing eyes. You cleared your throat and explained, “No, that’s not what that meant.”

Cedric’s tone softened in a flash. You saw his feet come into frame and then his hand reached for yours. You looked up at him, your cheeks tinged pink. His eyes ran over you as he brushed some hair back with his free hand, his gaze lingering a second too long on your lips.

“What did you mean, then?” he implored, his voice no more than a whisper because it didn’t need to be.

You bit your lip. “I meant that...Merlin, this is embarrassing.” You tried to look away from Cedric but he placed a finger underneath your chin, prompting your head to turn back his way.

“You can tell me. You can always tell me.”

You sighed. How could you explain it to him? You had always imagined that Cedric would ask you out on a date to Hogsmeade in the early fall; when it’s not too cold for heavy jackets but not too warm where you’d be drenched in sweat. He’d take you to the stores, stopping by the tea shop where he’d already know how you liked your tea: breakfast with a little milk. You’d continue to survey the area until you stumbled upon a tree that was beginning to turn with the coming season. You’d stare at it in wonder and turn to see Cedric admiring you, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach. He’d walk towards you under that tree, whisper something sweet and genuine before placing the most gentle of kisses on your lips.

How do you explain that?

“I always imagined things as moments, Ced. That game, that bet? That wasn’t a part of the moments that I had dreamed of.”

Cedric’s thumb went up to your bottom lip, caressing it with care. You let out a breathy exhale at the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

“As badly as you want it to be something you can predict, moments are exactly that: moments. They’re unpredictable. They come and go when you least expect it.”

You opened your eyes to look Cedric over. “What are you saying?”

“Even though we don’t know what moments are going to look like, we should never pass them by.”

Cedric moved his hand to frame your jaw and kissed you. The feeling was almost unreal. It was better than you could have imagined in your fantasies because Cedric was absolutely right; never let moments pass you by, no matter what form they may be.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fred weasley #george weasley

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koutarousangel · 4 years

Text

━ hometown glory.

prompt : you were incredibly nervous to return home, especially since you knew that he’d returned home too. loosely inspired by this.

genre : angst to fluff

warnings : i mean at this point i can put swearing as a warning every time cause they’re apart of my everyday vocabulary lmao.

music suggestion : hometown glory - adele, happiest year - jaymes young, from the dining table - harry styles.

author’s note : @asdfghjkl7things thank you so much for your support and your request ! i hope you like it !

you and hajime started dating during your third year in high school.

it was a surprise to practically everyone who knew you two, but the both of you had promised each other that you’d keep it on the down low as you were getting to know each other. mostly bc the two of you had friends that never knew how to shut up.

and what you had between you wasn’t really anyone else’s business.

you’d comforted him when they’d lost to karasuno, telling him that it wasn’t his fault and that he’d done all that he could, and you told him that if he wanted to, he could play volleyball again, or do whatever he wanted.

he’d consoled you when you failed the one exam that you needed to pass to go to the university of your dreams and he encouraged you to take the make-up exam, studying with you and making sure you were more than prepared.

you were each other’s rock and you genuinely thought that you were going to last.

until you got into an argument which turned into a full-blown fight bc the two of you were moving away from each other to study your respective courses.

you were scared of long-distance bc you didn’t want to hold iwa back, iwa tried telling you that you could make it work, but as you insisted, he accused you of never really loving him and that you were just finding a way out.

ouch.

four years later, the both of you were college graduates, and something drew you both back to japan.

walking through your hometown felt strange. it was familiar, heartwarming, but at the same time it felt as if you were a tourist, discovering everything for the first time. it had been a while since you’d walked through the streets of miyagi, having gotten used to the streets of london so much that the peace and quiet was almost far too loud. you’d thought about it, staying in london and finding a job there, settling with a brand new life but part of you missed japan so much, your family, your friends … him.

“you know,” your friend looked at you pointedly as she wiped a vegetable piece away from the corner of her mouth, “he’s back in japan, right?” it was almost as if she was fighting a smirk.

a sigh left your lips as you shook your head a little bit, “i know… he posted something on instagram,” the subtle confession that you still followed him on social media came out as a grumble, because you knew that your friend would make it her priority to never let you live it down. which was why you’d never told her that you’d accidentally liked one of his posts.

her eyes widened to the size of saucers and she practically choked on her drink, batting at your upper arm, “you sly fox you, so you do follow him!” you halted her frantic movements by grabbing her wrist.

“i do, which is also how i know that he has a girlfriend,” it was almost comical, how your friend practically deflated at your comment, scowl growing on her face, “it’s been four years, it was bound to happen.”

still, seeing him with his arm around her shoulders made your heart ache and you had angrily swiped away at the tears that spilled down your cheeks, because it was your fault. keeping him back had never been your intention and that’s what you felt you would have done had you remained in a relationship together. all that distance, the drastic time difference, attending separate colleges full of new experiences. you wanted hajime to have the world.

it was almost as if fate was trying to play some sort of cruel trick on you, because as your mind raced with thoughts of your old high school boyfriend, you felt yourself collide with someone and as soon as you heard your name being uttered by the person in question, you swore your heart wanted to jump out of your chest.

“hajime…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in what practically could be constituted as a breathless gasp, as if seeing his face in person after four years had completely winded you.

the man in question took a slight step back, taking a good look at you, almost making sure that you were really in front of him, and not his imagination toying with him. “small world,” was his only comment as he scratched the back of his head, awkwardness settling between you two as you wrapped your arms around yourself, the chill in the air suddenly very prominent.

“would you like to get some-” “i was going to go get some” the both of you spoke at the same time, nervous words overlapping each other. “coffee…” a smile as your shared thoughts fell together in perfect harmony, as if nothing had changed.

you had walked to the coffee shop in silence, questions of why you’d agreed to get coffee with your ex racing through your mind but the reason was simple … you didn’t want to walk away from him, not yet at least. sneaking glances at him while he grabbed your coffees made your heart thump faster than it had in a while, reminiscent of the first time you’d went on a date together.

there was a slight fear that it would be far too awkward to handle, but the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation, telling stories of your college days, how you’d gotten so drunk one time that you ended up stealing a plant and taking it back to your dorm, or how he’d once gotten so hungry during a late study session that he and his friends went to a mcdonalds drive through, even though they didn’t have a car.

you laughed until your face hurt, and you hadn’t realised, but the two of you had instinctively gotten closer to each other, and his arm had ended up wrapped around your chair, you leaned over and shoved him whenever he said something to tease you.

it was as if these four years apart never happened.

as your shared laughter died down and you finished off your drink, iwaizumi looked down at his lap and shook his head slightly, chuckling to himself and making you smile softly, “what?” you questioned, poking his shoulder.

“it’s still you, you know?” he looked up at you, eyes locking with yours as he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, “the person i see by my side at the end of the day.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut and you almost forgot how to breathe. you cringed, nose burning as tears tickled the corners of your eyes as you pushed your chair back, standing up and grabbing your belongings, holding them close to your chest as you rushed out of the coffee shop.

you could hear him calling for you, but the blood had rushed to your ears and you were trying your hardest to keep from crying, but as soon as you felt his hand around yours, you spun around and shoved at his chest, once, twice, tears dripping freely onto the pavement, cheeks burning red with anger and sadness, heart that was excitedly jumping around, now quietly sitting in the corner, thumping cautiously as you felt him grab at your hands to stop you from hitting him any further.

“you can’t say that shit hajime! you can’t say it, not after four years of nothing … you didn’t try to fight for me, convince me to stick with you through it all, and you have someone else! how sick can you be? saying that shit to me, stringing that girl along …” the anger wasn’t making you think straight, words spilling out of your mouth without you mulling them over first.

it was iwaizumi’s turn to get angry at your words, “you broke up with me!” he pushed your hands away from his before pointing an accusatory finger at you, “you broke up,” and he turned his finger shakily at himself, “with me.”

your mouth dropped open and you closed it again, gaping at the air like a fish out of water, hoping the words would come to you, “i wanted what’s best for you,” you managed to whisper, “i wanted for you to be happy.”

“and you came to that decision on your own!” his chest was heaving now, bottom lip trembling as he tried to keep his strong facade, but it was crumbling, “how dare you, decide for me what’s best for me?” his words were only making your chest ache because they were true. you were scared that you were not enough for him, that you’d never be enough for him, “you were what’s best for me, i wanted to share everything with you!” but you were wrong.

he let out a strangled laugh, “and that girl? she knew it too. i tried going on one date with her, and when i tried going home with her, she pushed me away and told me that i was just kidding myself and setting myself up to get hurt, because my heart was with someone else.”

the two of you were practically in hysterics, wild stares at each other, tears staining your cheeks and some threatening to fall on his own. this was how the argument was supposed to go four years ago, not with you doing everything in your power to walk away. you needed to talk it out, communicate with each other; the only reason it had reached this point, as if you were two people in some kind of romantic movie on the sidewalk professing your love for each other, was because all these emotions had accumulated during the past four years.

after he let out a couple of strangled breaths, iwaizumi’s shoulders slumped, and he raked his hand through his hair, shaking his head and going to sit down on the sidewalk, arms on his knees and head bowed forward.

you watched him for a couple of moments, hand pressed over your mouth as you tried not to sob. the man who’d held your heart so firmly in his hands even if you were continents away had never given up on you. suddenly you didn’t feel so pathetic, but the guilt was eating you alive. you’d never meant to hurt him so, you adored him and you really did want the best for him.

swallowing back the remainder of the tears, you looked up at the sky and sniffled softly, before taking a couple of brave steps forward, kneeling down and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you chanted softly, knowing that no matter how many times you said it, silently praying that he’d accept your apology, even though you didn’t really deserve it.

his hand rested gently on your forearm and he kept his head forward, pressing soft kisses to your wrist and the back of your hand. iwa hesitated for a moment, before he rested his hands on your waist, carefully guiding you to his lap and wrapping his arms around you, rocking you back and forth and shushing you quietly as you continued to sob into his chest. the way he said your name was as soft as a butterfly coming to rest on a fingertip, and he gently guided your face up to look at his.

“i forgive you,” he admitted to you, giving you a small smile, “i’m sorry for yelling, i’m sorry for letting you go ... ” his forehead came to rest against yours, and his eyes were closed. you could feel your heart practically soaring, having him so close again, him accepting your apology.

your hand came to rest on his face, thumb gently drawing back and forth across his cheek, before leaning forward and leaving a tentative kiss on the side of his mouth, watching as his eyes all but shot open, cheeks burning red under the palm of your hand as he looked into your eyes, “i forgive you too hajime.”

~ three year timeskip. ~

you were anxious. more anxious then you had been ever in your life.

you’d been with hajime ever since you reconciled now, going through all the motions with settling into your life back in japan, finding a job you both love but still there were struggles. like how hajime worked himself to the bone, hell bent on being the best athletic trainer the national volleyball team had ever seen. you laid blankets on his shoulders when he slept at his desk while he was writing reports or planning injury prevention programs. meanwhile, he carried you to bed whenever you fell asleep on the couch because you couldn’t sleep in an empty bed, or when you were studying for your job and you fell asleep at your own desk.

your relationship was strong, communication prominent during the whole time, because you knew what could happen if it wasn’t there. the two of you never went to bed angry with each other, he always brought home flowers if he fucked up, hiding his face behind the bouquet as he uttered an apology and you always made sure to bring him a cup of tea to bed if you stepped out of line, before cuddling into his side and muttering a small ‘i’m sorry’ into the silence.

vip tickets gave you the perfect view of the volleyball court, adorning the japanese flag on one of your cheeks and a polo shirt that matched hajime’s with ‘iwaizumi’ spread across your shoulders.

it would be your own name anyway, you thought, as you twirled the engagement ring around your finger, grinning brightly before looking up at him and giving him an encouraging wink, mouthing an i love you at him.

you’d returned home twice; to japan the first time, and to iwaizumi hajime’s heart the second time.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyu imagines #i hope this is okay !!

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dwaynepride · 4 years

Text

better off running wild

summary: college au. reader is supposed to be tutoring tony, but things get carried away.

words: 3,360

warnings: make out session

tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @jrenn10 @andreasworlsboring101 @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

There’s just something you’ve always hated about jocks.

Most of them were alright, admittedly. Those who mostly kept to their own giant friend circles and didn’t pay you much attention. There’s even a basketball player in one of your classes who gave you part of his lunch during lecture, which was pretty cool.

But the sentiment of disliking jocks, while cliche, is never so prominent than on Wednesday afternoons.

“Hurry up, Slowpoke. I got practice at four.” Tony’s broad chest is pressing against your shoulder, pushing himself into your space. All it earns him is an elbow to the gut, and the sound of him grunting is strangely satisfying.

“I can only write so fast,” you snap back to him. With a huff, you continue to scribble your name down on the library’s guest sheet. Once upon a time, you had a peacefully available Wednesday afternoon schedule. Sometimes, you’d go to the coffee shop to study and work. Other times, you might just head back to your dorm and catch a quick nap.

Nowadays, because Professor Gibbs decided you were the best for the job, you get to hang out in the library tutoring Tony DiNozzo.

As if the Professor couldn't have paired you off with anybody less annoying, less eager to actually learn, or any more inclined not to run off at the mouth about his favorite movie that you’ve never even heard of before. And sure, Tony was hot. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous with big shoulders and a great smile and nice hair and somehow, that all just made him even more annoying because he knew he was a 12 out of 10.

Case in point, when you finally step away so he could sign his name, Tony smiled and winked. Probably a reflex for him to flirt with anything that moved or whatever. You’ve been dealing with it for weeks.

So with a cross huff, you turn and walk off in the direction of your usual table.

The table is located at the very back of the library - a stuffy little corner nobody came around or even acknowledged and it’s worked wonders for Tony’s attention span. Out among the other tables, he just got too distracted - flagging down and talking to whichever one of a thousand friends he has, or attempting to chat up some poor girl who was trying to study.

It’s sad, really, that you have to tuck him away in some dusty corner for Tony to focus, but it's where you are now.

By the time Tony shows up, you have all the books and papers laid out on the table for the tutoring session. “Did you do the homework last night?” You ask him without even looking up.

He’s quiet for a moment, slowly making his way around you to his own seat. “I did some of it,” Tony answers eventually.

“Some?”

“Yeah. I had a party to go to. Couldn’t finish it.”

Tony plops down in his chair, tilts his head up, and puts on that familiar glamorizing smile - probably hoping it would keep you from scolding him. Maybe before, that smile might’ve weakened you a bit. Not now, though. Not after dealing with his bullshit for nearly two months every single Wednesday afternoon.

You sit with a deadpan frown. “So a party is more important than your grades, huh?”

Tony blinks and shrugs. “Well, this party was. You really should come along to one, sometime. Have some actual fun.”

This isn’t the first time Tony had tried persuading you into attending one of his dumb parties. Or even wanted to drag you along to his football games under the guise of it being fun and ‘the college experience.’ There was even a time where he called you in the middle of the night and asked if you wanted to go get drinks with him. As if you hadn’t been cramming all night for an exam.

Frustrating and irresponsible. How Tony DiNozzo even got into this school, you’ll never understand.

“Let’s just work, okay? The test is this Friday and I doubt you’re prepared.”

He shrugs and, shockingly, doesn’t argue. And for the next hour or so, you talk him through his half-finished homework. But this was probably the most frustrating aspect about tutoring Tony - he wasn’t stupid. Not by a long shot. He understood the work and actually got the questions right, if he tried. He could easily pass the class on his own.

Yet, you’re left tutoring him.

Once the homework is done, Tony slams his book shut with a smug smile. “Alright, Teach, I’m done. Am I free to go?”

You shake your head and bend over to reach for something in your backpack. “Not yet,” you answer him. “I went by Professor Gibbs’ office yesterday and picked something up that will help you on the test.”

Taking out a small packet of papers, you place it in front of Tony. He studies it, eyebrows furrowed together, until you speak up. “It’s a practice test for the exam. I was thinking you could take it, I’ll grade it, and we’ll see what you need to work on.”

Immediately, Tony lets out a loud groan - much too loud for a library, but really, you two were so far removed from everybody else that you doubt anybody even heard. Still, you glance around at the dusty bookshelves before roughly shoving Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t be a baby! I’m trying to help you pass this fucking class. Do I have to remind you that if you fail, you don’t get to play football? I’m doing you a favor by tutoring you - the least you can do is try.”

The rant just spilled out without anything to keep it back. Maybe Tony’s antics had slowly chipped away at your patience.

And for once, he was quiet. Tony blinks his surprise at your tone, his gaze drops, and then he nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll do the test.” Resigned, he pulls the packet closer and starts working. Really working.

You’re left in shock that you just won so easily. Usually, Tony attempts to shrug you off, or he changes the subject, or just tries to flirt his way out. Seeing him actually working - trying - is a strange sight to see.

As the minutes tick by, you try to keep yourself busy as Tony works. Go on your phone, do some reading, go to the bathroom. But in the end, your focus just keeps shifting back to Tony - his eyes sharp with focus, and the furrow of his brow showcases just how much he’s paying attention to the practice test.

But it’s not all you notice.

And….alright, you aren’t blind. You’re well aware that Tony looks good; how else does he get so many dates? You notice the way his jaw clenches tight. Every once in a while, he takes a deep breath and his whole body moves and you’re reminded of just how big his shoulders are. He must be one hell of a football player - not that you’d know. You’ve never gone to his games.

He’s got a cute nose, as well. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

And suddenly, before you could realize you were staring, Tony’s eyes meet yours. Flustered, you look away - but even out of the corner of your eye, his smirk is visible. “I’m done,” he says, handing over the packet.

But as you go to take it, Tony pulls it just out of your reach. So you look back to him, and he’s watching you in that annoying Tony DiNozzo way. Like he’s finally figured you out. “I want a wager, though,” he continues.

“A wager,” you repeat.

“Yup. If I pass, I get to kiss you. Is that a deal?”

Kiss?

The word barely makes sense to you, right now. You’re left blinking and scoffing - a buffer to try to make sense of Tony’s words until finally, you can come up with actual words to say. “What if you failed?” Oh yes, brilliant; act like you’re going to go along with his stupid wager. That’s what you want.

Tony’s smirk widens. “If I failed, I’ll walk back to my dorm in my underwear,” he announces. “Either way, you win.”

You ignore the sudden onslaught of butterflies and yank the packet out of his hands. “Fine. Deal. Maybe if I’m lucky, it'll be raining when we leave.”

Tony simply hums, unbothered by your insinuation that he’ll lose. And as you start grading the practice test, you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to focus and with a rush of heat, you realize that he must’ve felt you staring at him before. And your staring had been a complete accident - Tony is purposefully watching you. And you just pray that he doesn’t notice the new flush of your skin.

Instead, you force yourself to focus on Tony’s test. Something easier for you to understand.

7) When did the Minoan Civilization end?

Tony’s answer: The Bronze Age Collapse.

Okay, that one is correct. Fair enough, it’s not even that hard of a question. Next one:

8) The City of Rome was founded in:

Okay, he’s got to get this one wrong. In all the time you’ve been tutoring Tony, there was one kind of date you knew he was terrible with, and it was the historical kind.

His answer: 753 BC.

Damn.

And it just kept going on like that. More correct answers than incorrect. Even when you finished grading his test, you didn’t want to look up and face him and admit that he totally passed the practice exam with flying colors. That would also mean confessing that he won his stupid little wager.

“How’d I do?” He eventually asks. And his voice is low; very different from his annoyingly loud and boisterous self that you can’t help but look up.

He’s watching you carefully, like you have his undivided attention. It’s a little unnerving, but at the same time, maybe a little exhilarating. And you don’t even have the mind to wonder why.

And it takes a moment to remember how to speak. “You passed,” you tell him, matching his soft tone. Perhaps if Tony were acting normal, you would’ve added on a teasing comment. Something about him getting a good score against all the odds, or maybe comparing him to the second coming of Albert Einstein. Then Tony would say something equally stupid and he’d leave because he has his precious football practice.

None of that happens - this is uncharted territory.

He hums again, slow and purposeful, as if he’s thinking. And you notice him lean over just a little, on the very outskirts of what’s considered your own personal space. You catch a whiff of his scent and almost catch yourself leaning away from him.

Is this why Tony is so popular? Because he has his own gravitational pull? That must be it.

“Looks like I won the wager,” he says with a smirk pulling on his lips. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

His words make you hesitate. Was he serious? Tony DiNozzo: football star, annoying heart throb, everybody’s friend….actually wanted to kiss you? It has to be some kind of dumb joke. A sick prank. Something to tell his friends later on that he scammed you into kissing him and all he had to do was stop playing dumb.

Immediately, it becomes easier to lean away from Tony. To break out of the spell that his eyes had somehow cast onto you. His expression changes, but you ignore it. “Did you plan this?”

“Plan what?”

“Making a stupid bet to get me to kiss you. It’s a joke, isn’t it? A prank that you and your dumb football buddies thought up? Well, it’s not very damn funny.”

You don’t even attempt to hide the anger in your voice. Tony’s eyebrows furrow together, looking confused but you ignore him to start hurriedly gathering your stuff up. You’ll just have to go to Professor Gibbs tomorrow and ask him to assign a new tutor for Tony - if he even needs one. Seems like he can manage himself just fine.

You’re stuffing a textbook into your bag while Tony juggles with his words. “What? Hey- hold on, it’s wasn’t a joke or anything-”

“Right. And you just want me to kiss you.”

“What if I do?”

Immediately, your eyes whip back around to face Tony. The way he straightens up does offer a tiny bit of satisfaction, admittedly. “You don’t, Tony. And that’s fine, I don’t really care. I’m sure you can find someone else to kiss if you really wanted to,” you tell him blatantly.

“I know I can,” fucking typical, “but I want it to be you.”

Slowly, you cease packing up your things. The next time you look at Tony, you really look at him. He looks serious enough; though, you’re not even sure if you’ve ever seen a serious Tony DiNozzo. But you reckon this might be it. And if he’s being serious, maybe he’s being honest.

“Did you even really need a tutor?”

He shrugs, and a smirk falls on his lips. Not condescending, but almost like your question amused him. You’re not sure which is worse. “Maybe not. But hey, you make history a whole lot more interesting,” he answers, voice smooth and sounding like the regular Tony that you know.

It makes you scoff lightly. Eyes breaking away, but he tilts his head to keep the contact. “Listen, you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. But I think you do. And I know I want to, so…”

You finally stop and think about things. The way he lured you into tutoring him was very....clever, in a way. Putting himself in your domain instead of dragging you kicking and screaming into his. Tony is definitely a lot smarter than he lets on, and it leaves you wondering how the hell you let him get the edge on you, like this.

But he was also right - you did want to kiss him. Desperately. And you didn’t even really know it until just now. Looking at him, your eyes drop down to his smirking lips. And as he starts to lean in closer, you don’t pull away like last time. Once again, you’re caught up in his gravity. Being pulled in helplessly, as if he’s a massive blackhole in the middle of your solar system.

Tony’s close now, so you fight to grab onto any sense of logical thought. “Tony,” you murmur out his name. He hums in response. “I don’t wanna turn out like all your other dates. You show ‘em a good time, and then never call them again.” You watch his eyes flicker up in surprise. “I know about all that.”

He hesitates, and then huffs in amusement. “‘Course I’ll call you. Gonna need help on that final exam, aren’t I?”

Another dumb joke, but you’re not too focused on dissecting the implications of his words. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne. It’s a little strong but also dizzying and once his warm breath wafts over your lips, you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut. A silent invitation that Tony gladly accepts.

His lips are warm and wet against yours, and they feel like fireworks.

Yes, the thought of Tony’s many dates and flings had made you a little wary. But right now, you’re thankful for each and every one of them. The way Tony kisses...it just melts the world away. No more dusty bookshelves or crappy library lights. No hushed laughter from a group of girls that you’ve been hearing for the past hour. This corner of the library is a tiny world that only you and Tony inhabit, if for a short time.

He’s steadily stoking a fire in your stomach, even if he doesn’t know it. It gets stronger when Tony hums against your lips and raises a hand to fit along your cheek - his palm is big and warm and the feel of it nearly makes you shiver.

And then Tony laughs, and you wonder if you really did shiver.

But the detour was brief - he goes right back to kissing you good. Sucking on your bottom lip for a moment, stops, and then waits for you to want more from him. You don’t even know when your fingers found their way into his hair, but Tony groans a bit. The sound of him goes straight to the pit of your gut.

His lips are relentless. Barely giving you a chance to breathe and by the time you notice his hand has vanished from your cheek, your lungs are aching slightly. And before you can wonder too much, the hand is suddenly on your thigh.

The touch was unexpected. Shocking, even, but definitely not unpleasant. His hand is large and strong and when he squeezes the flesh of your thigh, you can’t help but moan just a little against Tony’s mouth. The moan, of course, was completely accidental and it sends a hot wave up into your face because you know he heard that.

But he seemed to like it. Tony’s grinning, and his hand squeezes your thigh again. Maybe it wasn’t all too embarrassing. “I like the way you sound,” he rumbles out. When he comes in to kiss you again, his hands slowly slides up. Just an inch, but it feels like a mile and you’re trying really hard not to start writhing under his touch. “Like the way you taste, too.”

Fuck, he can’t be talking right now. Not when his kisses and his touches are already doing so much to turn your body into putty in his hands. Everything’s hot and burning when he moves his fingers up another half-inch, dangerously close to the sensitive part of your inner thigh.

By now, you’re nearly panting. Fingers gripping Tony’s forearm so tight, you’re surprised it hasn’t hurt him. What’s worse, you don’t even know why you’re holding onto him or what you want him to do: stop, or keep going. Evidently, Tony’s in the same boat. Because he leans in real close, his breath wafting over your ear. “What’re you thinking? Wanna see how quiet you can be?” He asks, voice lowered to a harsh whisper.

You force your brain to start working, and you try to decide. You really, really try. But the choice is stolen from you.

“Hey, this is a library. Get some space between you two!”

Of fucking course the librarian picks this time to come around to this desolate little corner.

Instantly, you shove Tony away, eyes dropping away from him and the librarian. “Sorry,” Tony says, not sounding particularly apologetic. Eventually, the librarian walks off. And his entire focus is back on you. And for a moment, you wonder if he's about to start up where he left off. Or maybe ask if you’d want to go back to his dorm. You don’t even know what your answer would be - yes? No? Can you have both at once?

“Tony-”

“I got practice,” he cuts in. His smile is back as he leans in for another quick kiss. But Tony doesn’t back away too fast. He stays, and when he speaks, his breath is on your lips once again - something so small, but already so addicting. “You really should come to one of my parties sometime. I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

With that, he straightens up, picks his backpack off the ground, and walks off. Once he’s disappeared behind the bookshelves, you’re left alone at the table. Surrounded by books and papers and still finding it hard to breathe.

Were you still going to ask Professor Gibbs for a new tutor? Maybe not.

Was your decision entirely influenced by Tony and his lips and the warm imprint of his hand on your thigh? It’s possible.

But as you continue to gather up your supplies - hands shaky and legs a little wobbly - you can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if the librarian hadn’t walked up when he did.

#ncis imagine #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo imagine #tony dinozzo x reader

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leviskokoro · 3 years

Text

Happy Anniversary pt. 1

word count :: 2006

desc :: after a field trip gone wrong, mari finds herself in a castle and has to escape.

note/s :: next part will be on Leona's birthday bc that was the exact day I entered the twst fandom!

art credit :: asaame._ on instagram!

Golden caramel eyes gazed longingly at a book the woman was reading as she gave a dreamy sigh. Oh to be a princess living in a large fancy castle, dancing her nights away with a charming prince and wearing gorgeous gowns. Even if she didn’t want to be living the full life, she thought it’d be just splendid to have a dream where she could be in a princess’ shoes, even for a night.

“HEY!”

A loud voice interrupted her idyllic daydreaming and pulled her back to the real world. Mari shook her head, brown strands of hair falling to her sun-kissed face. She turned to the source of the voice to find Grim glaring at her with impatience as he huffed.

“How long are you gonna keep reading that thing?! We’re gonna be late for the field trip!”

The young woman smiled sheepishly and put down her book on her desk. “Sorry! I got so immersed in the book,” she apologised, causing him to grumble lightly.

She quickly grabbed her bag and Grim’s, then dashed out the room with him.

Once they found themselves in the Mirror Chamber, they saw that the students formed different lines, seemingly based on which class they’re in. Mari and Grim found the Adeuce duo and followed close behind them so they wouldn’t get left behind.

“Geez, what took you guys so long?” Ace teased them.

“Mari got distracted by a book!” Grim whined, pointing a sharp glare at her.

The young woman shrunk, looking away in shame. How embarrassing.

Crewel had explained to them the morning before that they’d be travelling to the Sonneburst Isles. It was a place where a great variety of rare plants and herbs thrived, thanks to the blessing of their sun. Legends say that a god enchanted the land so that it would be rich and bountiful as long as the sun shone on its soil.

It’s meant to be a good opportunity for students to gather the perfect alchemy materials for their practical exams. But knowing the students of NRC, they’re probably more looking forward to bringing back extra materials so they could sell it at exorbitant prices. Mari couldn’t judge too hard since she herself needed money as well. This trip would prove to be a good source of that.

As for her, Mari was just happy to go somewhere outside of NRC for once. It felt like a decade since she stepped out of the school campus. She really wanted to see what the outside world was like.

Everyone passed through the mirror to the Sonneburst Isles and stepped onto the front of the gates of the nation. The teachers provided the necessary paperwork to enter to the guards and the gates opened, allowing entrance. Once they were let in, each respective class’ teacher gave instructions to explore the area to become familiar with it and learn something about the country through experiencing it. In 2 hours, they’d be meeting up in the same spot.

Mari went off to explore, walking alongside her friends as they all looked around at the capital. Lively music filled their ears as well as the joyous noises of children playing around. There seemed to be a big event soon, seeing how people were preparing all sorts of decorations.

The four of them stopped in front of a mural painting of what Mari assumed was the royal family holding their newborn princess. She saw a little girl put down a flower in front of the mural, telling her sister that it was for the “lost princess”. Her heart sank at those words. Oh, how sad. The king and queen must miss her so much.

“Hey, doesn’t Mari sorta look like the princess?” Ace spoke up, interrupting her thoughts.

“W-What?” Mari squinted at him in suspicion.

“Yeah, the resemblance is uncanny,” Deuce agreed with him.

She turned to look at the princess, then checked her appearance in the window of a shop nearby.

“I don’t see it,” she told them with a deadpan expression.

“Hah, my minion could be the lost princess for all we know!” Grim grinned at them.

Ace stuck out his tongue at her. “Pffft, as if someone that absentminded could be a princess,” he teased.

“Hey!” Deuce immediately came to her defense. “Leona-senpai is worse than she is and he’s still a prince.” Okay, not a very nice defense but it’s the thought that counts.

“Okay, knock it off, you guys. We’re here to get familiar with the place, not the missing princess,” Mari huffed and walked away. They continued on to go sightseeing. It was a lovely time for all of them. All four of them got some sort of souvenir. Except Grim, he just wanted food. Ace got some special cards with sun sigils on the back of them. Deuce found a flag that he could give his mother. As for Mari, she went with buying a sun-shaped locket. She placed her brother’s picture inside it and placed it around her neck, hiding it within her clothes.

When the four of them were about to go to the meeting place, Mari needed to use a restroom so she excused herself. However, as she was going back to where the students were gathered, she was stopped by a few guards.

“Halt, miss.” A deep voice spoke up. A strong arm placed itself on her own to stop her from moving away. “Your presence is requested at the castle by the King.”

Her eyes widened. The king? What would royalty even want from her? Did she do something wrong?

Regardless, she bit her lip and nodded. “Alright, but please tell my teachers that the king requested my presence,” she replied, “I wouldn’t want to worry them.” She pointed at her teachers.

“Will do, miss.” With that, the other guard made his way to the meeting area as she was taken to the castle.

She couldn’t help but look around at the entire palace. Tall gilded towers were scattered around the castle’s much larger tower. It had been decorated top to bottom with floral arrangements that she assumed were native to the country. There were also a generous amount of cylindrical lanterns hanging around the place, seeming like stars from a distance. All in all, it was a pretty sight.

When she entered the main hall, she spotted two figures in the distance. The two were garbed in magnificent clothing and had such regal airs to their forms. Their features were aged, but still had the golden undertones of youth in them.

Their eyes widened in shock at the sight of her. Mari couldn’t help but look down at the pristine floor, unsure how to react to meeting literal royalty. She bowed.

“It’s you.”

Oh no.

“Our missing princess has returned!”

Oh no.

When that declaration was made, she was told to go to a room, presumably meant for the actual princess. As she looked around once more, she saw the colorful sun-themed room.

She tried explaining that she wasn’t the princess but their Majesties wouldn’t listen to her. They said that she must not remember them.

Mari sighed. How frustrating.

Well, she didn’t want to be possibly executed for defying the king and queen. Although, impersonating the lost princess also seems like a serious offense that would warrant execution.

The young woman groaned. Ugh, why did she have to be put in this situation?

The door opened and in came a maid, holding a basket filled with flowers and gold butterflies that glinted in the light. She smiled at her. “It’s an honor to meet the princess herself, Your Highness,” she told her, “I’ve been given the special task of helping you get ready for the ball tonight.”

Mari’s blood ran cold at those words. “W-Wait, but I’m not the princess. I’m just a person from another world that happens to look like her!” She tried to protest but it was no use.

The maid chuckled. “Oh I’m sure it must be a surprise to suddenly hear that you’re the lost princess of a nation but worry not! I’m here to help you with everything you need.” She placed the basket on a vanity table and made a beeline for the closet, searching through it. A lovely pastel pink dress was pulled out.

Upon closer inspection, Mari realised that it looked like a modernised version of a Filipiniana dress. It was odd but she felt that it was nice to see something familiar to her for once, especially something that reminded her of home.

The maid placed the dress on the bed and glanced at her. “Would you like to bathe first?” She pointed at a door.

She considered her options for a moment and sighed. Well, there was no way out of her situation at the moment as far as she knew. Silently, she made her way to where the maid pointed and entered the bathroom.

Mari’s eyes widened at the sight. Well, this place was certainly fit for royalty. The bathroom was practically bigger than her room in Ramshackle. Everything was so pristine and immaculate that she could see her face on the floor.

She prepared the bath, making sure the water was at the right temperature. Stepping into the bathtub, she sat down and sighed in bliss. God, she hasn’t had a good bath like this in a year. The facilities in Ramshackle still don’t work properly so this felt like heaven in comparison.

After soaking in the bath for what seemed like an hour or two, she got up and dried off, putting on a robe before exiting the bathroom. Her eyes spotted the maid, holding a different dress.

“Put this on and I shall begin teaching you how to properly behave in the ball.”

Mari took the dress and put it on from behind the screen. When she got back, the lessons started.

“Now, pretend I’m a prince from another country. How would you speak to me?” She asked her.

The young woman gulped and bit her lip, giving a curtsy. “Hello, Your Highness. Are you enjoying your time here?” She asked.

The maid smiled lightly. “Not bad! Your posture is proper and your manner of speaking is polite,” she commented. “However, you have a meek composure, not fitting for one that has royal blood in her veins.” A frown then pulled at her thin lips. “It may take a while to help you with that. After all, you don’t just gain confidence overnight, let alone in a few hours. But I shall do my best to assist you.”

And so the lessons ensued.

Mari took a deep breath as she stood behind a large gilded door. Her balled-up hand was pressed against her chest but the moments she spent psyching herself up.

“Are you ready, Your Highness?” A servant asked her.

She nodded.

The door opened, revealing her form to all who attended the ball.

Mari was clad in the pastel pink Filipiniana dress from earlier and her hair was adorned in golden butterflies and pink roses.

Walking down the stairs that lead to the main ballroom, she muttered to herself, “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” After all, there was no telling what would happen next. Perhaps she could find a way to convince the King and Queen that she wasn’t the real princess after this. And if they’re kind enough, they’d lend resources to help her get home.

If they’re angry and have her executed一 Well, she didn’t particularly care about her life. She’d likely end up in the Devildom because of her pacts. Though she’d still prefer not to go that route since she still needed to help out Grim and the other dorm leaders.

Gosh, everyone was staring at her. It made her heart pump in her chest. She found it challenging to breathe.

She looked around and noticed a familiar face in the distance. Her eyes widened.

“Leona…?” A whisper fell from her lips.

With those words uttered, they locked gazes.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #ace trappola #deuce spade #leona kingscholar

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woozisnoots · 4 years

Text

modest jeon wonwoo

° pairing: wonwoo x reader ° genre: university!au, host club!au, fluff ° word count: ~1.7k ° warnings: none! ° a/n: this had no business being this long and idek if i like it lol but I want to specifically dedicate this piece to @wonwoosimp bc she’s literally the sweetest, best bean in the world [insert uwu meme here] thank you for gifting me my very first photocard, I literally cried opening it! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to the svt host club!

masterlist!

you entered university with a certain goal, a purpose. eventually, you were going to be the pediatric surgeon that the 13 year old you ushered you to be.

…let's just hope the knowledge of your brain was enough to get you through the first four years of pre-med. with your 3.7 high school GPA, you were lucky to get into your first choice college, let alone your current major

from the start of the semester, you dedicated yourself to studying the anatomy and physiology of the body until you knew every nook and cranny there was to know. and the library was the perfect sanctuary to get your shit together

as much as you loved your roommates, their constant fights over closet space and boy toys gave you no peace of mind what-so-ever

bless the library for being opened 24/7. If your roommates found you sleeping on their only working desk, you would find yourself waking up to the sound of tripping freshmen trying to get to their first 8am class right in the middle of the hallway

but the lone table in the corner of the library just on the third floor did you good at staying focused. even provided some good naps in between every now and then

the day before your first anatomy test, you LOCKED yourself in the library. no one was going in OR OUT of the premise just to sit across from you on YOUR table until you fully memorized the different layers of epithelial tissue >:(

gosh, you even scattered all your notes across the table just so people got the memo that this seat was: [OFF LIMITS]

yes, off limits to everyone except a certain jeon wonwoo.

the way you met was abrupt to say the least

besides your table, you had a pretty good view of the entire campus — from the main health science building all the way to the student parking lot

and just below you, an astonishing sight of a mob of screaming girls chasing after a mouse guy in glasses. not to be inconsiderate and heartless, but unless you heard someone scream bloody murder, diving back into your flashcard you go

tissue after tissue, you start to get delusional because at this point, everything is starting to look the same

slumping down into your chair, you take a second to mentally recharge, drinking the water you’ve neglected for the past three hours

you time yourself for a five minute break, going through the notifications on your phone

before you could read your roommate’s ongoing ramble on the latest update of the “crazy good looking, god-like, elite host club that the university has to offer”

a ‘club’ that you didn’t even know anything about nor cared for

you hear a loud ‘thud’ coming from the bookcase in front of you

from the side the tall, lean guy with glasses that you saw earlier emerged with his hands gripping his tricep

you try not to draw too much attention to him. half the reason being you didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the fact he ran into a 10 feet tall bookcase

and you did not need this man distracting you. it’s your eight week streak being this productive, a new record for anything you’ve done in your entire life and your pride wouldn’t let you have it if you lost it just because you saw an attractive man on sight

you scribble down a decent guess to the tissue identification question that you’ve been stuck on for the past few minutes, not bothering to look up

“that’s actually dense connective tissue, not smooth”

jolting up from your seat, you look up realizing the guy 5 feet away is now right in front of your face looking down at all your papers

“you can tell because they’re striated”

you stare at him in disbelief wondering how he could have gotten so fast with just looking at it for a few seconds. eyeing him up and down, he definitely looked around the same age as you but he wasn’t someone you’ve seen around the science buildings. and you would know since you took the liberty of familiarizing almost everyone within the department

“do you mind if i sit here?” his hands already on the edge of the chair ready to pull it out from underneath him

“...yeah sure”

“oh i’m wonwoo by the way,” he says as you both exchange awkward stares and knowledgeable nods

okay well since he’s proven that he might be of help to you, you might as let him stay. from what you’ve gathered, he didn’t have any stuff on him aside from his phone that you watch him get out of his front pocket, getting ready to play pacman

forget how attractive he is, this guy has some brains.

for the rest of the day, as you guys sat across from each other, wonwoo would occasionally bounce back and forth between giving you study tips and playing whatever game he decides to play at that moment in time

he was surprisingly really good at this? he knew more things about the subject than your professors did, and that’s saying a lot. like you’ve been looking at cells for WEEKS and you were lucky to get at least half of them. which begs the question:

“how do you magically know all this?”

the blank expression on his face tells you he wasn’t expecting that question but he quickly shrugs it off. “i just know a few things from my parents that’s all”

you would have questioned him further but the time on your phone read “22:57” and you already broke your number rule about sleeping early before a big test

as you pack up all your stuff, wonwoo pushes his chair in, bidding you farewell

“good luck on your test tomorrow!”

you appreciate the gesture, mentally thanking him for his help and proceed to go back to your dorms, preparing yourself to tell your roommate all about the exciting? day you had

“YOU MORON. JEON WONWOO?”

laying flat on your back on your bed, you cover the bottom half of your face, quivering under your sheets as you stare at your roommate’s outrageous outburst

you explain what happened and who you met today at the library. when your roommate asked to describe him in more detail, all you said was that he was pretty smart for someone who wasn’t particularly in your major

your roommate lets out a loud scream into their pillow, gripping the bed sheets before giving you the earful of the century

“he’s just being modest. he’s a korean lit major but he’s one of the uni’s top students since both his parents are the head of the science department.

…AND he’s one of the most requested host club members. so you caught yourself one big fish today bud.”

top student? science department? HOST CLUB? none of that was processing in your brain. the one club that you wanted nothing to do with and you just happened to meet their top money maker

grand.

the thought didn’t keep you up at night only because you thought that today’s encounter was just coincidence and you probably would never have to see him again.

(sad though, your roommate was right. he is rather good looking.)

the time that it took for you to take your test the next day flew by so fast that you questioned if it even happened. the first step you took out the classroom, you start to second guess all your answers, regretting that you didn’t check a third or even fourth time before submitting

your train of thought halts when you see jeon wonwoo standing in the empty hallway

“i’m sure you aced it”

and just like in a netflix original romance movie, he reveals a bouquet of pink begonias from behind his back while shyly adjusting his glasses

“these are for you. to congratulate you”

weird way to phrase it but you were still gonna take the flowers. “host club tendencies?”

“so you found out?”

from a distance, you can hear the rushing footsteps from downstairs followed by a sense of purpose. “i think i was bound to” :/

you didn’t know how you felt about the current situation. you had no idea what host club was until you got here and you still don’t know what they even do. for all you knew, this could just be a gesture to get them more clients

but if his actions were genuine… you wouldn’t mind seeing him again

“i have to start learning muscles for our next exam. heard it was one of the hardest ones. i’m not sure if you have more studying tricks up your sleeve?”

“i might.” a cocking little grin now appearing on his face

“good. same place at the library tomorrow then. and this time? try not to bring your dedicated fans wherever you go”

so these study sessions continued. you guys occasionally had to change spots - from cafe to an empty bio lab - if the mob ever saw a single hair follicle that might be his

but each time, wonwoo brought something more just himself. one day it would be coffee, others days it would be food. things to keep you motivated.

for a korean lit major, he was taking a lot of time out of his day to help you, being attentive to all the strategies that help you study and such

possibly making your assumption from months back, true.

by the time finals rolled around, aside from the spursts of review here and there, study sessions became more casual. you didn’t feel the need to overwork our brain since you already knew all the information (something you actually learned from wonwoo himself)

possibly the last meeting you’d have with him was similar to your first: just you two together but him playing on his phone. and yet before the night ended

“i have a proposal.”

“i’m not giving you money for your dumb club.” bold of him to assume you would-

“no but i really appreciate the thought :)

why don’t we turn these study sessions into… study dates instead?”

your assumption after 6 months later: finally confirmed

“but that’s only IF you ace your finals.”

well let’s just say at the very end, you had a successful first semester and are now one step closer towards being the surgeon of your dreams.

plus, you even landed yourself a pretty cool boyfriend in the process

let’s hope his parents put in a good word for you when you apply to med school!

#seventeen #wonwoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen au #wonwoo au #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen series #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

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kill-the-feels · 4 years

Note

Me again! I just love your writing and idk if I can request two if not it’s ok just ignore this, but can you write one for either Kix or Rex where there’s a lot I mean A LOT of tension between them x reader. They lowkey like each other but won’t even think about doing anything about it bc of regulations/rules. All other clones know and they always tease them. Maybe they do something to get them to confess both their feelings to one another? Maybe some angst and fluff and slow burn? Thank you sooo much

First, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this!! I adore this prompt and it was so fun to write!! (Also, I hope you won’t mind, but I picked Kix! ;) )

warnings: description of injuries, blood mention, angst, some language, a little, tiny bit of steam

word count: ~1.5k

~~~

You suppose it starts out as little touches. Lingering glances and glancing brushes that feel like heavy blows in their aftermath.

It’s the way you swear Kix has a speck of dirt on his shoulder, right below the lurid red medic symbol. The way your hand lingers there for just half a beat too long, cupping the plastoid armor.

Or the way he moves around you, with his hand coming up to rest on your hip just long enough to move past, in a way that would annoy you to hell if it were anyone but him.

Perhaps it’s the way you high five him one day, after he regales you with the story of finally getting the infamous Captain Rex to get some rest. You intend the gesture to be be funny, but then you make contact with his hand and then the two of you just sort of… pause there, fingers splayed out against each other.

Totally normal way of high fiving someone.

It might even be in the way he sits just slightly too close, so that his hand accidentally grazes your thigh when he moves it from his lap to the table.

Once is an accident, twice is suspicious, but five times?

That can’t be a coincidence.

It graduates from there, as all things do. Little touches become longer, excused as necessary even though you both know everyone sees through your shit.

Maybe it’s when Fives walks in on you two sleeping, your head on Kix’s shoulder and his head resting on yours.

He teases Kix so hard, you want to cringe into the floor, even as Kix explains you both just “fell asleep.” Fives rolls his eyes as he leaves.

“Yeah, and I’m blind,” he mutters giving you in particular a knowing look.

Or maybe it’s when you fall and hit your head, not hard enough to cause permanent damage, but hard enough that Kix insists you let him check it out.

You sit in the medbay and watch him move around. If there’s just a bit more urgency in his step, neither of you comment on it. He clicks on a little light.

“Follow this with only your eyes,” he says. Maybe you hit your head a little harder than you thought, because you move your head after the light two different times.

Frustrated, he takes hold of your chin, keeping your head in place with one hand and moving the light with the other.

“Your eyes,” he says slowly, enunciating each word in a way that leaves you focusing on his lips.

“Eyes,” you hear yourself echo faintly.

He leans in while he studies your pupils, titling your face up just slightly. Makes sense, you reason, seeing as you’re sitting down and he’s standing over you.

“Gross, Kix, not in the medbay!” It’s his brother Jesse, making fake gagging noises. Kix jumps and lets go of you like he’s been burned.

“We’re not together.” He says it easily enough, but you don’t miss the glance back over his shoulder.

The longing that’s getting harder and harder to deny.

Were it not for rules, you two would be together in a heartbeat, the tiny part of your heart, the one you spend day after day arguing with, says.

The two of you are more subtle after that. Never alone together, always keeping busy so you don’t have to think about what you can’t have.

And it’s fine, really.

Except when you brush imaginary dirt off his shoulder, or when he brushes past you, or when you high five him, or when he sits just slightly too close, you feel like you’re being burned alive.

As it happens, you two finally reach a breaking point when you, well, quite literally, butt heads.

He’s on his back in the medbay, trying to fix one of the droids. You’re sitting on one of the exam tables above him, talking about senseless things to pass the time, when Kix goes rigid.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“You okay down there?” He’s silent and you slide off the table, squinting into the shadows cast by the droid.

“‘M fine,” he says, voice sharp. It’s a sure sign he’s in pain. You peer closer, noting the way he’s clutching his hand to his chest. Blood is oozing out slowly, over his fingers.

“Kix!” you say with an undignified yelp of fear. You try and tug him out, and he shrugs you off.

“It’s fine.” Stubborn man.

“Liar,” you say, kneeling over him at the same time he goes to get up.

It’s like watching a disaster happen in slow motion. Your brain knows what’s happening and tries to tell you to move, and you do. But it’s towards Kix’s rising big skull instead of away.

He stand up into you, and you feel more than hear the crunch in your nose.

The taste and smell of blood is instantaneous. You fall to the floor beside him with a groan, hands coming up to cup your poor nose. Kix is on you in a flash, trying to do damage control, but his hand is still bleeding, and it’s making even more of a big mess.

So there you two are, on the floor, moaning in pain, covered in blood. Not your finest moment.

Someone clears their throat, and you two pause in your fumbling attempts to stem the bleeding.

“Kix, I don’t care what you do in your own time. But this is not the place to explore your weirder tastes.” It’s the Captain himself, perhaps the worst person to catch you two like this.

“No, that’s not-”

“He’s not-”

The two of you are talking over each other, and Captain Rex just laughs, leaving you two to suffer in a bloody heap on the floor. Kix extricates himself first, finding bandages with his good hand.

He wraps them around his injured hand, then ties it off with his teeth, a move that almost distracts you from the blinding pain in your face.

Almost.

“Shit, Kix, I think you broke my nose,” you say with another moan. He’s back beside you in an instant, gently prying your hands off.

“Let me look, and I’ll tell you,” he says, after you slam your hand back onto your nose, only to cry out in pain. Not very smart of you.

Kix takes your hands again, placing them to the side and wiping away some of the blood. Your nose is tender to the touch. Carefully, he probes the sides of your nose and you wince.

“Sorry,” he says. There’s a lingering softness in his tone, the same kind of softness you’ve noted in his touches.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. He looks down at you, and you don’t even think about the way he’s still holding your nose.

Instead, you’re caught on his eyes.

He has kind eyes, you decide, the kind that invite you in and make you feel important. Safe. Cared for.

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s broken,” he says. “Just bruised.” Even as he speaks, his hands drift away from your nose, and his eyes move down to your lips.

“Kix,” you say, intending it to come out as a warning. Instead, it’s breathy and needy, and you find yourself arching up to meet him even as he leans down.

Your first kiss is not euphoric, like you would hope. Instead, it’s an experimental peck against your lips and then an accidental knock against your nose, which has you cringing backwards.

But. You have come to expect something like this from you two. So when Kix pulls back in horror at the thought of hurting you further, you’re prepared.

You wind your arms around his neck, tugging him back to you. He comes willingly, caressing your face as he slants his lips across yours.

This time, you would put your kiss safely in the “euphoric” category. It’s like you can finally breath after all this time spent holding your breath. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck while you kiss him, and he hums softly, cradling you to his chest. You sigh into him. No more stealing glances and barely-there touches.

“No, we can’t,” Kix says, voice hoarse as he pulls away abruptly, shattering your dream. You want to cry. Everyone already thinks you’re together, so why can’t it be the truth?

“I know,” you say instead, for him, even as the two of you lean in for another kiss. Kix cups your face this time, thumb stroking your skin as you kiss, and you realize it’s because you actually are crying.

“Cyar’ika,” he murmurs against your lips. You wrap your arms around his chest, tugging him down on top of you.

“I know,” you say again. “Just for a little bit.”

And for just a little bit, he lets you dream. You don’t care that the two of you are a mess, or that anyone could walk in. For now, you have more than lingering touches and glances. You have a promise that down the line, after all is said and done, he’ll pick you.

You have Kix, and that’s enough.

#clone trooper kix x you #clone trooper kix x reader #tw blood #reader insert #clone trooper kix #ask #kat speaks #snippytano #this has been ruminating and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long!!#and also thank you for reading my stuff!!#i’m glad you enjoy my writing!!<3

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