#i’m like super awkward and i feel like i’m bad at conversations but hopefully i can get better and more confident with that lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Text

Serious Questions

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: Bucky agrees to go on a date to make his colleagues shut up. Now, he just feels sorry for the poor woman that has to spend an entire evening with him. He really tries to make it work, though, because he actually enjoys her company.

a/n: This was a request by the lovely @alana-32. Hopefully, it meets your expectations 💙 I haven’t written pure fluff in a hot minute but this was fun!

word count: 2.9k

warnings: nervous and wholesome Bucky, super fluffy, just a really beautiful bond unfolding

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

You should get out more, Bucky. Meet people and make friends, Bucky. You need to get laid, Bucky.

Sam’s words echoed through Bucky’s head as he pushed open the door of the restaurant. The warm air welcomed him and the little bell at the entrance rattled when he entered. He didn’t know how it exactly happened, but all of a sudden Clint had pitched into the conversation and urged him to meet his cousin. And Bucky had agreed. Well, the desperate attempt to make them shut up backfired. Big time.

He didn’t want to date. Apart from the fact that he didn’t wish himself on anybody, he didn’t think he could handle a relationship like that. Hell, Bucky barely realized how he made friends in the past year, so how the hell was he supposed to date? He hadn't done it in ages. It was probably different now than it was 80 years ago.

The waiter looked at him with wide eyes - fear visible on his face - when he entered and chose a quiet place in the corner, though the whole restaurant was fairly empty. What would he even talk about? His hand started to sweat. This had been a bad idea. A really stupid bad idea. His eyes swerved to the door and then back to the waiter standing behind a small bar. Was it too late to back out?

But then the bell above the entrance chimed again and he knew that he had missed his chance.

“Hello.” You smiled at him, clutching your bag with nervous fingers. “Are you James Barnes?”

Bucky scrambled to stand up and held out his hand to you with a tight smile. He nodded and gestured for you to take a seat after you told him your name.

He could do this, he thought. Especially because you seemed just as nervous. The first thing you two had in common, right?

“I’m really sorry, this is kind of awkward.” You looked down at your hands beneath the table with hesitance. “I... uhm... I haven’t done this in a while,” you confessed with genuine eyes. And Bucky could see a hint of comfort washing through your face.

“I doubt your last date is as long ago as mine, doll. You’ll probably do a lot better than me.”

A small laugh pressed past your lips and Bucky’s heart warmed at the sound. It felt good to make you laugh. He wanted to do it again.

“Let’s rush through the basics then so we can get to the interesting bits. I think that first half hour is what makes these things so awkward.” Your mouth spread into a grin as you straightened up.

“Sounds like a plan.” Bucky nodded.

“Well, you already know my name... I work in a small bookshop in Brooklyn, I am an only child but never wanted to be. I love dogs, cats, ducks - all the animals, really, but I don’t have any pets because my landlord doesn’t allow them. Well... I have fish - I had to settle for fish because they're quiet. But that’s their problem, you know? They’re quiet and you can’t play with them or pet them.” You shrugged. “Uhm... I like to read - I do that a lot, and I think that’s it.” Your speech ended with a bright smile and Bucky couldn’t help his own from spreading.

“My turn?”

“Yes.”

“Okay...” He straightened ups as well, a little giddy about the situation now. Normally, Bucky wouldn’t react this way to something he didn't like, but he wanted to try it this time. You were just so sweet and he didn't want to ruin the date... for you. “My friends call me Bucky, I grew up in Brooklyn, I have a sister... had a sister. And I think I’m more of a cat person - if I had to choose. I don’t have any pets. I work a lot, I guess it keeps me distracted. And... I feel like my back story doesn’t need to be explained, you probably know all about it.” He didn’t give you much, Bucky knew that. But those were the things he could say easily and really, he wasn’t sure how you’d react to most of it.

“Bucky... I like it. What’s it short for?”

“Buchanan. ’s my middle name.”

“Like the President?”

“Yup.”

“Hm... I guess that’s kinda cool.”

“I guess.”

"Can I call you Bucky?"

He felt weirdly content with you saying his name. "If you want." There was no regret in his decision as he watched your face scrunch in excitement.

The shallow topics went on for a while, and Bucky was surprised to see that talking to you was easy. He didn’t worry about what you thought, because you reacted to his replies with intrigue and adoration. He felt heard. And he had to admit that he actually enjoyed the little meeting his teammate had set up so far. He learned a bunch of stuff about you. And he picked up on little quirks you had and he celebrated every new one he noticed. Like the way your nose slightly crunched when you didn't believe him, or how your finger grazed over the table when you talked about something you really liked - back and forth. It was comforting to be in your presence.

Bucky leaned back in his booth as he emptied his beer, watching as you ordered another drink for yourself. He found himself smiling into the bottle when the waiter agreed to add an extra peppermint leave, making you bite back a bright smile. The waiter smiled as well, a lot less tense than he had been before you had arrived and it fascinated Bucky how contagious your good mood was. Then you turned your attention back to Bucky and he had to regain his composure. His arm slipped from the back of the booth and fell to his side as he waited for you to talk again.

“Okay, real talk, now - and I need you to answer this question honestly.” Your fingers pressed on the table like he’d seen important politicians do and Bucky had to hide a smile.

“Hit me with it.”

“If you could be a mix of any two animals, which combination would you choose?”

Bucky was baffled for a second. He had expected everything but this. And then - out of the blue - he laughed. A real can’t-hold-back-the-snort-if-I-tried-laugh and it felt so unbelievably good, it scared him a bit.

You gasped appalled, but the small smirk behind your hand couldn’t be hidden. “This is serious, Bucky. It says a lot about you.”

“Really, how?”

“Well, for example, I would choose an elephumblebee because it would look freaking adorable. A tiny elephant with wings and a furry butt, are you kidding me? Why the government hasn’t made that happen yet is truly beyond me.”

Bucky got it, then. It really did say a lot about you. You were fun and cute and he could imagine a little clumsy at times - just like he would imagine an elephumblebee. And even though it still felt foreign to him to engage in a silly activity like this, with you, it was fun - and he wanted to. So he thought really hard, his eyes focusing on the wall behind you and you waited patiently and ordered another beer for him.

Who would have thought that James Bucky Barnes would ever sit in a restaurant and think about how ridiculous a dog with a giraffe’s head would look? Certainly not Bucky. But it was almost comforting to do so.

“Alright, I think I got it.” You just nodded in anticipation. “I think I would be a spider-wolf... a spi- a spolf.” Bucky was satisfied with his answer: A lone wolf and someone people didn’t really like - pretty accurate if you’d asked him.

You just watched him with a tilted head for a while and Bucky felt a little uncomfortable with his answer now. Had he said the wrong thing?

“What?” Your lips just pursed in response.

“Nothing, nothing..,” you trailed off and Bucky couldn’t stop staring at your lips. “I was just thinking, you know - I think I’ve never seen a real wolf before. It’s not on my bucket list or anything and I heard they are so much bigger than you think, but like... have you?”

“I actually have. In the wild - amazing animals and yeah, bigger than a dog, that’s for sure.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up. “Wow, that must have been such a unique experience.”

Bucky smiled sadly, nodding. “To be honest, I didn’t really realize it when it happened. I couldn’t appreciate it the way you would.”

“Oh well, still. It’s awesome. The most extraordinary animal I have ever seen in ‘the wild’ was a raccoon. There’s not a lot of wildlife potential when you never leave the city.” You shrugged as you pressed your lips in a straight line, but Bucky chuckled.

“Not much of the vacation kind?”

“It’s not that...” You paused and sighed. “I just love the bookstore too much. There is this one lady. She comes in every Thursday at exactly the same time and she just sits and reads and she has the most amazing stories to tell. And then there is the little stray cat that comes by every day and we have a little cuddle session. Oh, and I can’t forget about the quiet tatted college kid that secretly reads romance novels in the back isles for hours on end. I would miss them too much...”

Bucky just sat and listened to you ramble on and on about all the individuals you were so attached to, even if they didn’t know. And he was reminded yet again how much he enjoyed this initially dreaded evening. It didn't feel forced and you were so authentic and kind. Bucky was relaxing with every second he spend in the cozy little restaurant with you. He was sure that he could spend a whole day here with you, without getting bored.

He leaned forward as he watched the corners of your mouth tug up and your eyes sparkle with joy while you talked about the bookstore. And he couldn’t help but ask himself how he ended up here. How had he gotten a date with the most caring person in the world - no, really, what were the odds of that happening to him? But the most present thought swarming his mind was: How is a woman like you still single?

You suddenly stopped taking and Bucky was catapulted back to reality. You looked at him with wide eyes for the fraction of a second and then they softened and your gaze averted to the table. Had he just said that out loud?! Bucky didn’t know what to do. He was frozen to the booth, his hands tightening around the bottle and he held his breath - didn’t dare breathe until you gave him a new reaction.

After a beat, you sighed and looked him in the eyes apologetically. “I... I don’t know.” Your hand moved over the table and nervously began picking on the toothpicks in the glass jar. “I guess, I don’t seem to be the taste of most men around here. I don’t like wild parties and spending my weekends wasting away with a hangover.”

Bucky felt himself cringing at how uncomfortable he had made you. You clearly were embarrassed talking about this, but he would let you talk - or chose not to anymore. Either way, he would respect your decision.

“I... uh... I just haven’t had any luck so far. When I talk about my interests, everyone’s eyes just glaze over and then I never see them again. They think I’m boring, but that’s... I like concerts and dancing... I just don’t need the whole-” Your hands flailed in front of your face before you sunk back into your seat.

“You’re not boring, doll. I completely understand what you’re saying. I don’t need all that-” now his hand flailed in the air, “either.” Which made you break a smile that got brighter when he returned it. And Bucky felt a little pride swell in his chest when he watched your mood lift again.

“Can I ask you something?” You suddenly said and Bucky felt a little nervous at the piercing stare you gave him.

“Uh... sure.”

You bit your lip before finally speaking again. “You don’t really strike me as the social type, either.”

Bucky waited for you to continue, but you seemed in thought all of a sudden. “That’s not a question.”

You laughed nervously. “Right. I guess my question is... well, why did you agree to this evening? Clint didn’t really make it seem as if there was a lot of convincing involved.”

Bucky already facepalmed himself mentally for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t want to lie to you - it didn’t feel right. No, you deserved the truth - especially after you had answered his stupid question earlier so honestly.

“To be completely honest, I didn’t know how else to make my friends- uh...shut up. But I don’t regret coming here if that’s what you’re getting at.” He rushed that last part when he saw your face sadden. “I don’t get out too often, that’s true. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t want to... I just don’t know how to do this very well - talking to people. Usually, I get weird stares or fearful glances.”

Your eyes gleamed with something unintelligible before you leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table. “I don’t know how anyone could be scared of you, Bucky.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say, doll. But I don’t blame them, I would probably react the same if I weren’t... me.” His eyebrows furrowed with the last word and he could see a shiver of sadness wash over you.

“I think you’re pretty great,” you offered with an encouraging tap on his hand and Bucky felt his stomach churn.

A short silence overtook you and Bucky tried to keep his composure. The mood had shifted slightly, not uncomfortably, no - but just enough to leave his mind free from any topics he could talk about. Which usually wasn’t a problem, but he wanted to talk to you - tell you more and get told more. Which was why he was extra grateful for your breaking the silence after a couple seconds.

“So... I guess we can check off the heavy stuff as well?”

“Seems so,” he chuckled, holding on to the little feeling of relief you had sparked in his chest.

For the next hour, you actually got Bucky to open up a little more. He hadn’t even realized you were the one talking most of the time because he enjoyed listening to you so much. He came to realize, however, that it wasn’t so bad to talk about himself. He liked the way your eyes lit up at his stories about Clint, or the occasional ‘what, really?’ you threw into his anecdotes, making him feel important.

After another 30 minutes, you had made it outside. And as Bucky stood outside the restaurant door, hands buried deep in his coat pockets, helooked at you with an honest smile, while you adjusted your mittens.

“Thank you for giving this a chance, Bucky. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Your words built puffy white clouds in the air, but other than those, the butterflies in his stomach didn’t dissipate.

“I did, too,” he confessed, realizing for the fourth time today, that this was really true. “We should do this again.”

You bit your lips as your shoulders jerked with reluctance, but before you turned fully, you stepped towards Bucky and hugged him tightly. “Definitely.”

The cold weather seemed a lot more bearable all of a sudden. Bucky caged you to his chest with his arms and pressed his smile into the crook of your neck while an excited shiver ran through him. He felt incredible, safe, content, and he realized how much he had missed hugs - real, affectionate hugs.

“And you’re not a spolf,” you mumbled into his ear, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re a curtle - a cat-turtle. Because you have a hard shell and you don’t trust very easily, which might make people feel like you don’t care. But you do - you’re just a little misunderstood.” You pulled back with a sad smile and Bucky felt his hands tighten around you as he stiffened. Though despite the surprise, his lips split into a bright smile.

He gazed into your eyes for a little longer before he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, making a giddy smile appear on your lips. “Thank you, doll.”

And then, with a final wave ‘good night’ you turned and walked down the street. Bucky watched until you rounded the corner, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.

**Bonus:

“So... how was the date?” Sam teased as Bucky entered the main area of the compound. But his friend just wanted to go to his room and revel in the serenity, you had brought him, a little longer.

“That’s none of your business, punk,” Bucky grumbled, passing the sofa.

“Why, did you more-than-kiss her goodbye?”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned with an annoyed expression, but not even he could hide the blush on his cheeks from deepening at the thought of actually kissing you. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“Oh! Wait? Did you really?!”

“Shut up, Sam.” Bucky wanted to deny it for your sake, but he liked the thought of it too much. So he swiftly decided to simply not spill in front of his friends and your cousin.

“Holy shit.” He heard Clint chuckle while he made a beeline to his room, missing how the two avengers exchanged a $10 bill behind him.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @marrigold-2002

1K notes · View notes

l0velyinc · 11 months

Note

for the questions meme, tried not to send you a ton but still ended up with 5 ^^'

10, 22, 28, 36, and 81?

feel free to skip or answer any with ocs instead if you'd prefer!

[Original Post]

No worries!!! Thank you for all these questions!!! I'll start with my own answers:

10. HIKE TO A MOUNTAIN TOP TO WATCH THE SUNRISE OR DRIVE OUT OF TOWN TO STARGAZE?

OOOOH these are both my vibe. Uuhhh. Depends on if I’m with someone or not?

If I’m alone, I could totally go on a hike and watch the sunset. I have done in-depth daydreams about this.

If I am with someone, I’d live to drive somewhere and just star-gaze, and maybe have a deep conversation! (Also I don’t have a license so I can’t drive lol)

22. WHAT’S THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’VE SEEN SOMEONE DO IN PUBLIC?

Those guys who pass out CDs, like the scam ones. Where they give the CD, make you pay for it, and such. It’s such a weird scam? Like there has to be a better way to scam someone right? Just, anyone that tries to force products onto others, it’s so weird and awkward lol.

28. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE HOLIDAY TRADITION?

I have a couple:

. Our family bean dip recipe (for any occasion)

. Easter & NEW YEARS Brunch!!!

. My aunt would make specific desserts for any film/show related party, like The Oscars or The Super Bowl (not a holiday, but it feels like one!)

. basically food.

36. IF YOU COULD LEARN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY WHAT WOULD IT BE?

SPANISH! I used to know if fluently when I was a little baby (first ever word was “Gato”)

I’ve been slowly learning, but I doubt what I’m learning is actually useful in conversations… but I barely know anyone IRL that speaks spanish, so duolingo is unfortunately the closest resources.

81. WHAT BOOKS INFLUENCED YOU MOST AS A CHILD?

Everything I could get my hands on (except the ones we read in school. Ew. those were so bad.)

EXCEPT ONE THAT TRANSCENDED AND IMPRESSED MY BABY ASS: The Westing Game.

It’s a mystery with a giant cast, and so much happens in it, I hated 50% of the characters, the twist blew my mind but is actually extremely obvious when you think about for 5 seconds BUT I DIDN’T because I was a kid who read most of the A-Z Mysteries series books and loved them too.

Take this all with a grain of salt though, I have not read The Westing Game or A-Z Mysteries in probably 10 years so… hopefully they aged well…

Also because characters rot my brain, I have randomly selected one character to answer these questions with: [[ DULCE!!! ]]

10. HIKE TO A MOUNTAIN TOP TO WATCH THE SUNRISE OR DRIVE OUT OF TOWN TO STARGAZE?

Oh 100% Stargaze. She’s got a car and she’s driving to every known destination just to peek at that night sky and contemplate her location in the universe!

22. WHAT’S THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’VE SEEN SOMEONE DO IN PUBLIC?

In the Oblivion, you see a lot of weird things, but definitely the strangest would have to be that one kid who sang on that karaoke night… What was his name… he had really strange eyes… sang a really strange song… had wings all over his face… and those eyes…

28. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE HOLIDAY TRADITION?

Dulce’s favorite tradition would be the Sage Battle! It happens annually at the Olympus (the city she lives in) art festival.

It’s like a competition between two magic scholars where they come up with a question and have to fight for their side. It involves magic, moving art, and lots of cool displays of (very little) violence!!!

They almost always end in a draw, but that’s what she loves about them!!

36. IF YOU COULD LEARN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY WHAT WOULD IT BE?

She’d love to learn Arcadian (the language the nomadic group of Arcadia speaks.) Many of her family are there, and she considers herself to be one despite having only been around them when she was a baby. She’s currently taking a class on it… but it doesn’t feel the same as being there…

81. WHAT BOOKS INFLUENCED YOU MOST AS A CHILD?

There were many artbooks that Dulce came across as a child. Growing up Arcadian meant she had access to knowledge all over the Oblivion, which made her very well aware of the world. The artbooks of the world especially interested her.

There was always an annual catalog of artistic inventions called the “Artificer’s Almanac” that covered most creative endeavors from every city. As well as the Eden Fair, which is when people from all over come to show off newer advancements in science and the wonderful creations of creatives!

It inspired her need to work with crafts, she even takes many workshop classes… the only downside being she can’t travel anymore and thus has less access to such a diverse array of books.

#ask #oc

1 note · View note

bunnisdumbbrain · 2 months

Text

Dear diary,

There’s so much to talk about here and I have no clue where to start. I’ve never been the best at journaling (only because if there was ever an error on the paper I’d want to rip the page out and start all over) so this seems to be the best option LOL. I think I just want to use this as a place to vent frustrations or keep up with myself, quite literally as a diary. I’m still debating on whether I want to mention this on my main blog only because this is definitely more personal haha. We’ll see.

Anyways, 2023 was such a shit year for me omfg. Let’s see: got into a huge argument with my boyfriend on my graduation day, birthday bonfire was ruined, had to put down my rescue dog due to his aggression :(, boyfriend gave me a relationship ultimatum, spent months wondering why I wasn’t enough, and then ended the 7 year relationship. Sounds like a sob story HAHA, but fuck that year sucked.

My friends have been my biggest support system though. I love them so so much and they are amazing for putting up with me constantly. Also they always agree to go traveling with me <3 I have never traveled as much as I have within the past two months than the past 3 years. I’ve somehow managed to talk my best friends into traveling to New York with me soon so I’m super excited for that. Hopefully I can meet the cute mustache man of my dreams there LOL.

Also, being single is so new to me still!! I was dating my ex since I was 15 so being single at 22 feels so strange! I know for sure I’m not emotionally ready for another relationship at the moment, nor am I looking for one, but I do miss the aspects of a relationship. Like the causal hanging out and kissing LOL. (Maybe I need a friend who I can kiss occasionally) For some reason in January, I ended up downloading bumble (dumbass alert!!) and boy was that shit a doozy. Some are of the guys on there were cute [especially if they had a mustache] but it just was not for me. I also felt like if I did end up meeting anyone in person for a date it be awkward to mention that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. My bumble account lasted 1 1/2 weeks.

Moving on, I think I like talking to people online atm just because nothing comes of it. I can be flirty and no harm done, but boy is it hard to find people I’m genuinely interested in talking to. It gives me such an ick if someone is overly sexual all the time. I get it’s fun occasionally but if I can’t have a casual conversation with you then no thank you!!! I was talking to this one guy on here (which was dumb on my part because this is tumblr) and we had good conversations (plus he was hot) but it would turn me off as soon as he’d ask for pics, especially after I’ve said no. Ended up blocking him </3 (rest in peace).

I’m in no shape or form wanting to send pics OF ANY KIND (unless they’re cute lil selfies) at the moment anyways. I do not feel good in my body and I’d rather rip my eyeballs out then let someone see me naked (a little extreme but my point stands).

Speaking about my body though, I’m wanting to focus on bettering myself this year! I think there’s definitely a lot of things I’ve been slacking on this year and am wanting to change. My weight is my biggest obstacle at the moment. All I can do is workout and eat better though to fix that (have I been doing it? kind of). I just need better accountability!!! Also I need to stop eating out so often. I’m on the fence about not watching porn though LOL. I think I’ve watched it like every other day for the past few months. Maybe it’s bad for me but idk I just like to c*m.

I think I’ll be updating this every week or every other week? I’m terrible at keeping a routine so who knows. I’m planning on going to the gym tomorrow so, fingers crossed.

Sincerely,

Bunni

#02/22/24 #this is so long #ignore any grammatical errors please

0 notes

nightowlwriting · 3 years

Text

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

457 notes · View notes

katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

Text

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

#my fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband/reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x yn #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse smau #corpse imagine

791 notes · View notes

hockeyshitandstuff · 3 years

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 1)

part two here

part three here

word count: 1860 words

TW: language, angst (?)

let me know if you want part two, I’m somehow still not sure

...

It was so hot that day. The movers were already gone, the place feeling empty without all the furniture. In a few hours, you'd be long gone, flying far away from Chesterfield.

Some small part of you felt sorry for selling your parents' house - the house you spent your whole childhood living in. But they moved out a few years ago and told you many times they didn't mind at all selling it.

Wiping the sweat off of your eyebrows you made your way through the blooming garden, trying to memorize every little detail. You remembered climbing this tree, you remembered the hole in the fence you made so the neighbour's dog could come play with you, you remembered the time capsule you and Matt buried here when you were fifteen.

Until now, you completely forgot about that. Even though you two didn't talk after he got drafted, it'd be a good idea to meet again since you might never see him again. You might be moving to Calgary but that city was so big it'd be a miracle to meet Matthew somewhere.

So you scrolled through your phone, praying he didn't change his number after all those years as you dialed it.

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Yes?"

Matthew's voice was so different since the last time you talked.

"Hey Matt, this is Y/N, I'm moving out today and I thought we could dig up the time capsule we buried at my place as kids before I leave. Are you in town?" It was off-season so you might get lucky.

"You are moving out already? But yeah, I can meet you in an hour if you have the time."

"Yes, I'll still be here, don't worry."

"Okay..." There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of you knew how to break it. Was it a bad idea? Of course you wouldn't be as good friends as you once were. But you didn't know it would be this... weird. He didn't say goodbye back when he left to Calgary and didn't answer to any of your calls or messages. What were you thinking? That he wanted to see you?

"So, where are you moving to?" Matt finally continued, making the conversation more bareable.

"Calgary, they offered me an amazing job there."

"Really? I've been there for a few years."

"I heard." Not from you, was what you didn't say. It seemed like he'd heard it nonetheless.

Silence. You hated how distant you've grown - once, a long time ago, you were best friends. You went together to kindergarden and since then you've been the best of best friends. But even after all you went through, you didn't know what to say.

"Nevermind, I have to get going. I'll be at your place at three, okay?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

As you hung up, sadness enveloped you. Maybe you shouldn't have called. Maybe it'd be better to never meet Matt again, to remember only the good old times.

But he might be already on his way and you wanted to say a proper goodbye before going far, far away.

You loved him once, you recalled. It broke your heart when he left without looking back.

It irritated you that you couldn't do the same as easily.

...

"Y/N?" a now familiar voice called, the sound of closing car doors echoing through the silent street.

Matt looked same as he did four years ago and still totally different. It was like staring at a stranger you could swear you've already seen before. The curly, those pretty grey-blue eyes and the crooked smile you remembered and thought about too often. He got taller and more mascular over the time he played hockey professionally.

"Hey," you said nervously, tucking your slightly trembling hands into the pockets of your shorts.

Again, that uncomfortable silence took place.

"How long is it?" Since you've last seen each other. Since he'd ignored your calls and messages. Since he'd left you crying as he left this town - as he left you.

"Five years," you said.

Regret flashed in those pretty eyes as he took you in. Did you look to him the same as you did the last time he saw you?

"I'm sorry I didn't call." That was it? After five fucking years of silence, this was his apology for everything. This was a mistake. You didn't think it through when you called him today. Just now you started remembering all the things he's done to you.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, does it?" You whipped around, going to the line of fruit trees where you left the two shovels you borrowed from the neighbour.

Matt's hand slightly gripped your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

"I know that I made a bunch of wrong decisions before I left."

"I've been trying for 6 months to reach you before giving up completely. And you? You've been living the best version of your life anyone could ever imagine."

"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said and you wanted to leave right then, forget this stupid meeting.

"I do not." you hissed, trying to calm down your rising temper.

Matt sighed, not wanting to argue over this. So he made his way to the tree line, picked one shovel from the ground and started digging where he remembered the time capsule was.

You didn't help him dig it up. You were too lost in memories, clinging to the past as you thought of younger version of Matt.

The clang of metal on metal attracted your attention back to him. He grunted as he pulled up the metal box and laid it on the grass.

You ducked low next to him, dusting off the dirt of the box. It was an old, weirdly dented thing. Your eyes laid on the lock and you nearly sighed in annoyance just when Matt grabbed at his necklace, the key dangling from it. When you two buried the capsule, each of you got a key made for it. You had yours somewhere in the boxes that had already been shipped to your new apartment and Matt's... he didn't forget. He kept it through the years, guarding it and not losing it as you expected.

You didn't say anything, just patiently waited for him to open the box.

There was a letter inside, along with a bunch of things you thought of as long forgotten. Your bracelets of friendship, the colors faded already; a puck with which you and Matthew played your first hockey game together when you were six; so many polaroid photos with your faces on them; USB with a playlist you two always danced to.

Your eyes watered - how were you supposed to say goodbye to all of this?

Silently, you looked over all of the photos - you and Matt in the rink with small hockey sticks and skates, you and Matt sticking out your tongues colored blue with slushies, you and Matt, you and Matt, you and Matt...

Then Matthew's hand found yours, your fingers automatically intertwining with his. You started crying, first silently but then the sobs shook with your whole body.

"Come here," he murmured, hugging you. His body was so soft and warm, as if begging you to lean into his touch.

"How- how could you leave this all behind?" you mumbled between the sobs.

"It's not leaving if you don't say goodbye." Matt said, his fingers playing with yours.

"Then you are a fucking coward, Matthew."

Silence. He didn't argue with you on that, so you must have been right.

You stopped crying after a while, checking your watch while wiping your nose.

Shit. It was so late already - you had to call an uber to get you to the airport in the next hour or you'd be super late.

"I'll have to go," you said quietly, but Matt interrupted you.

"You are right," he tucked on the edge of his shirt, clearly nervous. He was nervous. "I was a coward. I thought that if I didn't say goodbye to you as I left, it'd hurt less. I was wrong and I was a fucking coward for not picking up your calls or replying to your messages because it would make it so real - that I was leaving and probably never coming back. But I want to make it all right again, I want to be a part of your life - if you will let me."

You thought about his offer and still, you couldn't answer. You weren't sure about letting him into your heart just for him to storm out again without a goodbye, leaving you behind, broken.

"Can I at least take you to the airport?" To that, you nodded, picking up the time capsule, putting all the items back in. Then you gave back the lent shovels to your neighbour and with a last glance at your house, you got into Matt's car.

...

On the way to the airport Matt played the playlist from the USB that was in the time capsule and the nostalgy hit you hard.

You remembered the lyrics, the melody; you remembered everything.

The drive was too short and you started panicking as the engine stopped.

Matthew helped you with your suitcase and went inside with you. The two of you stopped at the first gate.

"Here," he said, giving you a piece of paper. "It's my adress. Hopefully, you won't live so far away, so we could meet there if you wanted to."

You tucked it in your pocket without a word.

"Also, take this. I wrote it in ninth grade so don't think much of it. But I want you to read it, Y/N."

It was the letter from the time capsule, with your name on the blank envelope.

"I will." you promised.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward this time.

"I'll let you know my decision about what you said earlier. I just... I need some time."

Matt noded, giving you the space you so desperately needed.

"So, until we meet again - goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Matt."

...

The plane took off and you finally had the time to read the letter he gave you.

You immediately recognised his scrambled handwriting and you smiled at how messy it was before you started reading.

Dear Y/N,

I'm writing this in case I leave. Dad has been telling me for some time already that if I'll get drafted, I'll have to leave. He also said that if I'll be smart, I will never look back at my past.

I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future.

He said I'll meet a lot of girls but I know that none of them is going to be like you.

So, I promise you, I will never say goodbye to you.

I love you,

Matt

With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone, the tears already staining the screen.

That's why he never said goodbye. Because of this stupid letter and his stupid promise.

The phone rang once before he picked it up.

"Y/N? What is it?"

A ragged breath escaped you and you laughed and cried at the same time.

"I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future."

"Oh, that was cheesy, wasn't it-"

"No, you dumbass. That's my answer."

220 notes · View notes

lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

Karl jacobs- mr beast

wc- 2117

Warnings: none

~ Two weeks ago I randomly got a call from a man who invited me to a shoot for a video, believe me I was sceptical at first which the man seemed to understand but he provided me with all the information I could ever need and answered all of my questions so I believed him and agreed to go and now is the day of the shoot. To my knowledge there will be a few others there as well as a whole crew so if this is a bad situation at least I won't be alone.

My parents think I'm insane for going to this and they have made me promise to keep my phone on me at all times and to text them that I'm safe when I get there, it's nice that their worried but I honestly think I'll be fine. The friend that I've told seem to be thinking the exact opposite in fact they are convinced that I'm going to a mr beast shoot but I'm not too sure. They seem to think that because we live in North Carolina that this is the only possible explanation but I think that they would say that it was for mr beast so that the whole situation seemed less sketchy.

For the day of the shoot which happens to be today we were instructed to wear what we normally would but not to wear too much makeup because it doesn't look good on camera. I took this on board and wore my mom jeans with a black crop top just because it was plain and not too over the top, I don't want to stand out too much. I also barely put on any makeup I just covered the dark circles under my eyes and the few spots I had and I put on mascara so that I didn't look like I had no eyelashes.

The location I had to go to was only about 35 minutes drive from my house which was nice because I wasn't feeling a long drive today. I woke up early enough to have time to make myself breakfast and get coffee on the journey. At the local Starbucks drive through I got my usual order and talked to the girl at the window for a moment because she happens to be one of my friends sisters so we know one another.

"Isn't today the day if that mysterious video shoot your going to" she asked

"Yeah I have to be there in like 50 minutes" I said

"Well have fun meeting mr beast" she said handing me my drink

I rolled my eyes as I pulled away and started my drive. I listened to my Spotify playlist on the way just vibing to each song that played normally it plays at least one song that I'm not that into but today all of them were some of my favourite songs so I think today will turn out to be a good day.

As I arrived to the location I noticed that it was in this really random place with a bunch of big warehouses which I'm not gonna lie was a little sketchy but there seemed to be quite a few people about with cameras and other equipment so I calmed down again. I got out my car and went to the place that I was told to in the email which was relatively easy to find once I knew where the people were going and a guy led me into the middle of this warehouse with a few other people who were obviously taking part too.

Me and this one guy got talking while we waited and he seemed to know a little more than I did about what was happening so we talked about the video and this whole sort of experience. He was really cute too he had kind of long fluffy brown hair and lovely blue eyes that were and interesting shape but they really suited his face, I also noticed that he had his nails painted which made him seem even cooler much to cool for me to be talking to him. He was super nice to me and we had a good conversation until we had to start filming.

A few more people walked in with cameras following them as they talked but when they got closer I recognised the face and I couldn't believe it. My friends were right it was mr beast and his friends or at least a few of them. As they came in the guy I was talking to went over and joined them as they explained the video concept to the rest of us.

"Right for todays video we are going to get all these people to hide in pairs around these warehouses and whoever is found last wins $100,000 to share" mr beast explained

They sorted people into pairs but there was an odd number so I was left on my own.

"Slightly awkward but one person didn't turn up so Karl is going to step in and be y/n's partner for this" Chris explained

This Karl guy came over and he was the guy I talked to earlier, I got a bit embarrassed realising that I had absentmindedly been talking to this guy who's so well known as if it was nothing. The poor guy was probably so confused that I had no idea who he wasn't while at a mr best shoot hopefully I can redeem myself with this challenge.

We each took cameras to film as we found our hiding places which we had 10 minutes to go because the area we had was so big. Most people ran off to the furthest warehouses but me and Karl decided to stay a bit closer hoping that all the others would be found quickly. We went into this relatively small but tall looking warehouse which had a small upstairs bit to it where we looked for a good hiding place, there wasn't a whole load of options apart from this old wardrobe which looked like it could fit the both of us. We decided to keep looking seeing as we could always come back if we found no where else.

After checking another 2 warehouses that were almost empty we realised that our best option would be that wardrobe so we went back and squeezed ourselves in leaving one door open for now at least until we heard movement near by so that it wouldn't be quite as cramped. The both of us did fit in this wardrobe but on the inside it was smaller than it looked so we were pressed right against each other which would be awkward if you hadn't already embarrassed yourself in front of the person so I felt 10 times more awkward in this position.

We had to film ourselves which was quite hard with the darkness and the cramped space but Karl knew what he was doing so he took the camera off me and filmed the both of us explaining where we were showing just outside the wardrobe so that the viewers would know when the others were close to finding us.

Soon enough the timer went off indicating that our hiding time was up and now we really had to be careful not to make too much noise as we could've found any second I had kind of forgot about the fact that this was for a whole lot of money up until now because I was just so annoyed at myself for being such an idiot but now it felt really real and I was starting to feel quite competitive.

We waited what felt like an age before we heard any movement but when I heard the door open I almost jumped out my skin because it was so quiet up until that point. I gave Karl a look and the both of us forced ourselves further into the wardrobe and shut the door as quietly as we could making it completely pitch black.

It was a lot more squished in the wardrobe now as there was no space to move, there was no good way to stand because we had to had some part of our bodies touching or else we wouldn't fit. Karl whispered telling me to turn my phone touch on so that he could film for a second because he said that it wouldn't be seen from outside.

"We just heard the door open and there is movement downstairs so the door in now closed and its super dark without the light" Karl explained to the camera

"It's also super claustrophobic in here with the door shut" I added putting my head over his shoulder so that the camera could see me

He put the camera down and I turned off my touch and we just kind of listened and we heard the door close again or so we thought but it wasn't worth the risk so we left it a little longer before we felt safe to be a little louder but we didn't want to risk opening the door again so we stayed how we were.

It was actually a good time talking a little bit like we were before the filming started, Karl is a very sweet guy he really just wants to get to know me as a real person and not just someone helping him do his job. He seemed to really care about what I did with my life and who I am seeing as I know a bit about him and he knew that he was interested in learning about me.

Our nice conversation was soon interrupted when the door opened again and we heard voices getting closer to us. The sound of the metal stairs that lead to where we are could be heard which meant that they were close. There was a panicked feeling between the two of us and Karl pulled me closer to him just incase they opened one door they might not be able to see us.

"They could be in the wardrobe there" I heard a muffled voice say

Mine and Karl's breathing slowed down so that they couldn't hear any noise at all and if they did well they have great hearing. It was at this point that I realised Karl had his arm around my waist holding my back to his chest which was making me blush but it was dark so no one could see. The door opened on the other side and a camera was pointed in.

"There no one in this side do you really think they would both fit on the other side?" Someone asked

"I don't think so honestly but we really should check" another said

I knew it was over from that point and I was right the second door opened and cameras went straight into my face, Karl also let go of my waist at this point not wanting that to be on camera. Karl got out the wardrobe and offered his hand to help me out.

"Congratulations you guys have won" mr beast said

"It took us forever to find you so well done" Chris said

"Oh my this is amazing thank you" I said feeling quite overwhelmed

Obviously the prize for winning was $50,000 each which was absolutely amazing and just so life changing like there is so many things I could do with that amount of money but I have no idea what that will be yet.

"You have won $50,000 congra" mr beast started

"Wait I want y/n to have my share I don't need it" Karl interrupted

"Karl there is no need for you to do that I'm more than ok with $50,000" I said

"You are taking the money please it would make me happy" he said

I accepted the fact that Karl was never going to give in so now I'm $100,000 richer which is insane no one is going to believe me until this video comes out. My parents are going to think I've committed a crime of some form which isn't good but they will have to believe me eventually so it's fine.

The shoot wrapped up and I was heading to my car to go back home when Karl came running over and gave me his phone number saying he wanted to hang out sometime. What has my life become? I started the day thinking that I could be in danger and have ended it with $100,000 and the phone number of one of the people that works for a huge YouTube channel, it's almost like a dream.

#karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs #mr beast #dsmp #mcyt #karl

94 notes · View notes

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Could you do number 46. They have amnesia? With Monkie King and MK If you’re still doing the request/prompts

You didn't say who had to have amnesia, anon. Spoilers for episodes up to S2E6 inside.

They have amnesia?

"How is this even possible?" MK asked softly, not wanting to be heard but knowing that Wukong’s superior hearing would pick up most of what he was saying. Though given how distracted he was...

"It shouldn't be!" Tang exclaimed equally as quiet, watching his hero with a mix of curiosity and dismay. "He's the Monkey King, nothing should be able to hurt him like this."

"Maybe he wasn't hurt," Mei offered, watching Wukong herself as Pigsy held up another photograph and only recieved a confused look in response. "Maybe it's magic. He can be affected by magic that isn't directly hurting him, right? Even if it takes something big to hurt him physically a spell or curse could still something."

"That is a possibility..." Tang muttered under his breathe. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as Pigsy seemed to exhaust photographs and illustrations to show the Monkey King. Sandy stood beside them both, Mo curled up in Wukong’s arms instead of his usual place on the big guy's shoulder, and said something in hushed tones that made the Monkey King's ears pull back. "There are no shortages of either that could cause memory loss, hopefully for us temporarily so. And he didn't seem injured in any way when we found him outside the shop... though he shouldn't even be here, he was on vacation! Wouldn't he have told you he was coming back?"

"Maybe..." MK started slowly, watching as Pigsy held up a group of photos and Wukong pointed to one of them excitedly. "But he's been acting... weird since he left anyway. Like he was distracted. I kinda just tried not to worry about it but..." He trailed off, jumping as a loud snap was heard and then wishing he had the staff out in his hands to wrap them around it instead of the mop he just snapped in two. "... crap..."

"You're worried," Mei said softly, laying her hand on her best friend's shoulder. "I am too, even though I may not know the Monkey King that well. But once we find out exactly how much he remembers we can find a way to help him."

"Yeah, about that," Pigsy's voice broke through their conversation as he made his way over. The chef looked perturbed. "So we went through all your pictures MK. He remembers going on the journey, though the details of it are lost, and he knows Mount Huaguo like the back of his hand. But he doesn't remember like 99% of the journey, can't remember any of his monkeys, can't remember us, can't even remember that he's the Monkey King or what that title means." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his snout for a second before continuing. "What he does remember clearly is that he lives alone on an island and that it's the modern day, he went on some big journey he barely recalls... and that he knows MK and that MK is important."

"What?" MK looked away from where he had glanced over to Wukong, staring at Pigsy in disbelief. "Wait, you're telling me I'm the only person he remembers!?"

"Barely!" Pigsy elaborated with another sigh. "Kid, whatever happened to him really messed up his memories. He knows your name and face and that you're important. He kind of remembers training you. But that is it. He doesn't recognize anyone else. And I don't know him that good, but he doesn't seem to be acting like his normal self either."

This was bad. There was no other way to put it. And they needed to figure something out fast.

"MK?" Wukong said suddenly, having wandered up to the group. He still had Mo in his arms, the cat looking up at him in concern. "Is everything alright, Bud?"

It most certainly was not.

"This is my house?" Wukong asked softly, one of the first things he had said since MK and he had arrived back on Mount Huaguo. Getting him home was easy enough, one of the few things he remembered was where he lived after all, but he seemed confused regardless. Perhaps he didn't remember the mountain as much as Pigsy thought he did. "It's... cozy!" He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "When your boss told me I was a king I kind of worried that... well, I don't know why, I was just worried for some reason. Weird."

Weird didn't even begin to cover it.

Pigsy wasn't lying when he said that Wukong hadn't been acting like his normal self. Instead of the loud and boisterous and kind of, admittedly, self important Monkey King MK expected, Wukong was oddly subdued. Maybe it was the amnesia making him weary, but he was acting so much like he had for just the shortest moments at the Lunar New Year festival (both before the fireworks had cheered him up and after the fight with the Spider Queen) that MK was starting to wonder...

"I really do live alone except for my monkeys, huh?" Wukong said softly, one of the aforementioned monkeys looking at him in their own concern.

When he saw them face to face he seemed to recall at least a bit. That he cared for them in some capacity both as an actual caregiver and as "I guess a King is right" as Wukong put it. But while he knew each one on the island by name before he couldn't recall a single one now. But MK remembered that the little one that followed them inside was called Yue, partly because he had been the one to help name her.

Knowing that Wukong likely didn't remember that day, let alone how important it had been to him to include his student in this endeavor, made MK's chest hurt.

"Yeah, it's, uh... yeah," MK attempted to confirm, coming off as awkward as he felt internally. Everything about this was awkward. But MK could not, and would not, leave his mentor while he could only barely recall how to navigate his own home island. "So... we didn't exactly get that much to eat at Pigsy's... you hungry?"

The two ate in moderate silence. MK didn't want to force Wukong to feel awkward by asking him about topics he couldn't remember (the last few confused and then apologetic smiles made him feel too bad to try again). He managed to find something, at least, however small it was.

Wukong seemed to remember little bits and pieces about himself. Not everything, obviously, but he remembered some important things. He knew he was immortal and invincible. He knew that he was very very old. He knew he was technically not a regular demon monkey but a stone monkey born out of a... well, a stone. And he remembered his dietary preferences.

This last one was news to MK, who had never actually seen him eat more than peaches and peach chips and food made from his own hair (which was not something he was looking forward to trying again). But it made fashioning something for them to eat easier. Something simple, rice for both of them with fresh peaches (he had so many of these things in his fridge and MK did not know how they lasted without spoiling, but he did not ask) for his mentor and rice with some tofu and green onions for MK (simple, but with seasoning and sauce that for some reason had his own initials on it tasty, he had to remember to ask about that... after).

It was... kind of nice, the situation aside.

"... am I your... absentee dad?"

And there that went right out the window and right into the volcanic inferno of the flaming mountains!

MK nearly choked on his rice, barely managing to chug a glass of water before managing out a "HWUH?" in his mentor's direction.

"I-I'm sorry!" Wukong stuttered out, the uncertainty in his voice sounding wrong. "I just... I thought... there's stuff in here with your name on it but there isn't a place for you to stay, the second room is just storage, so I thought..." He trailed off, biting his lip before sighing. "You told me you were my student. But that... it's doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel wrong but it feels... sorry."

Taking a moment to breathe in deeply, MK steeled himself.

"No, don't apologize," he started, setting his bowl to the side and staying quiet for a moment. "No, you're not... my dad. But I noticed those things too. I've never really been inside your house all that much, only a couple times before you left and only twice since. You don't..." He paused, trying to find the right words to express himself. "I guess I'm just realizing there's a lot of things you don't tell me."

"... it'd be kind of awkward if I just ruined some kind of big thing I was gonna tell you when I got back," Wukong said through another bite of a peach.

"Yeah, I doubt you were gonna tell me you'e adopting me," MK laughed out awkwardly... but that awkwardness lingered long after the conversation moved on to how much of the stuff in the house he remembered.

MK woke up in a sleeping bag in a room that didn't belong to him. He was confused at first, sitting up quickly and looking around before realizing that he was just in Wukong's house. On the floor of Wukong's bedroom, actually. The Monkey King had insisted that he could not sleep on the couch, comfortable as it looked, and they looked around in his storage room for any alternative until they found this.

It was comfortable enough. But not so comfortable he slept through what had woken him.

It sounded like crying.

Not loud, not enough to wake most people. But MK was already highly stressed from the situation and had developed much better hearing since obtaining the Monkey King Powers (how he had thought he needed to learn super hearing that one time he did not know now that he thought about it). So he picked up on the soft sniffs and whimpers and shakey breathes and now he would not be going back to sleep until he figured out what was up.

"Monkey King? You sure there isn-" MK froze as he turned to his mentor's bed, only to find it empty.

Well. Shit...

That probably answered that question.

MK wasted no time in jumping to his feet rushing out of the room and toward the crying before freezing in the door way to he living room.

Monkey King was sitting on the floor, TV on and VR set still strapped to his head.

"Oh... no..." MK muttered softly, making his way inside to stand behind Wukong. "Hey... Monkey King? What are you doing?"

Wukong flinched, he'd never seen him do that before, and gripped his controller tighter. He heard it creak worryingly under his grip.

"I... I saw this game earlier," he started slowly, and MK didn't need him to explain which one it was. The case, familiar to him now, was sitting in plain sight on the floor before them. "I dunno, it just... it felt important. And I couldn't sleep so I decided to go through some more of my stuff and... and..." He took in a shakey breathe, putting the controller down and taking the VR headset off. "I... it was weird looking at myself. Listening to myself tell me what do to. But it felt familar. So I kept playing and..."

MK put a hand on his mentor's shoulder and looked at the screen. He'd made it to the in game store, the temple. There Tripitaka, Tang Sanzang, resided to give the player passive abilities. "How long have you been playing?"

"An hour maybe?" Wukong offered, wiping the tears from his face. "I made it to Zhu Ganglie but I. I couldn't. I didn't want to... MK, I feel like I should remember these people. I can't look at them without feeling... sad. Guilty? I can't help but feel like I did something wrong to them?"

And MK's chest hurt once again, knowing that somewhere deep down in Wukong he hadn't completely forgotten his companions from his journey centuries ago. He should have pieced it together when he played. The art, the dialogue, the placement of the monk... he'd never seen the game on store shelves before either, never even heard of it.

But Sun Wukong had played this game for 10,000 hours.

"They're, uh... They're the people who were on your journey with you," MK started as he sat on the floor by his mentor. "You haven't gotten to Sha Wujing, but he's there too. So was Bai Long Ma. I could... tell you about them? I don't know all the stories by heart like Tang does, but I can try."

"You don't have to do that," Wukong said much more assuredly and firm than before. "If I did something that made me feel like this that should be my own burden to bear, not yours."

"Yeah... but I want to help you anyway."

The two sat in silence for a moment before Wukong stood and made his way into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a small bowl of peaches and a wrapped pack of pears (once again with MK's initials on it). He sat on the couch, gesturing for his student to join him before he spoke.

"I appreciate the offer, I do... but I'll be able to learn that on my own before my memories return," Wukong said, biting into one of his peaches with a sad smile. "You said Tang, the guy from the noodle shop, knows them. I can ask him tomorrow... well, later today. But as I said before, that isn't your burden to bear. And I don't want to put that on you. And even though I remember you the most out of everything it feels like I don't know you as much as I should. So, if neither of us is going to sleep again any time soon... tell me about MK?"

"... When I moved into the apartment above Pigsy’s I took on MK as a nickname."

Wukong looked up in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened and he put all his focus on his student with a soft smile. "OK..."

The two talked for only roughly another hour, Sun Wukong listening to MK tell him anything he felt comfortable telling him. When he woke up he was back in the sleeping bag, the soft snores of the Monkey King resounding above him.

As he laid awake, the small monkey Yue having made her way inside to sleep on his chest making a good excuse to not get up, he wanted to mull over everything he had learned. He'd learned more about his mentor in the 6 waking hours they spent together in his home than he had his entire apprenticeship, and the same went the other way.

MK wondered just why Sun Wukong hid all this from him so far. For so long. And he knew now he couldn't have possibly been on vacation. Not when it resulted in this. The Monkey King had been hiding so much from him and it clearly wasn't limited to what he was doing behind his back.

But right now Sun Wukong trusted MK, him coming back with him to Mount Huaguo was evidence enough of that. And MK trusted him as he was now... but didn't know how much of Sun Wukong from the past to trust anymore. He needed to get his mentor's memories back. And he needed to get answers.

Sun Wukong slept on, oblivious to the conflict in his student's head.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #amnesia fic #mk #qi xiaotian #sun wukong #monkey king #dad wukong hints #prompt fill #the amnesia is magic so it is not an accurate representation

153 notes · View notes

nanastea · 3 years

Text

for the sake of it

order: HI! I absolutely adore your blog and writing, and was hoping to get a small taro milk tea with mango jelly (add-ons egg pudding, this is my favorite irl too btw!) for my sweet boy megumi? And I'd like to request a fake dating au where it initially started out as a prank but it turned into something more? – @dumrus

pairing: fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

word count: 1,732

tags: fake dating au! idiots in love, little angst for a short while but gets a happy ending!

date: apr. 17, 2021

nana’s note: ahhh thank you so much @dumrus for being my first order!! i was so happy when i received this order and got super excited about writing it that i kind of got carried away and wrote a too long of an imagine (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ) and i'm not sure if i got the prank part correctly ヽ( T–T)ノi’m sorry about that! but i do hope you will enjoy this~ constructive feedback is appreciated!

previous order: notes for you

you’ve always been with megumi for as long as you can remember. you two met at jujutsu high when gojo had introduced the young megumi to you. the spikey dark haired boy had no interest in you nor did you in him. you both were young and had no idea what curses or cursed energy was so it was mostly training and training.

but due to the low attendance of students enrolled in the academy, there was only you and megumi so ultimately you guys had to rely on each other. but with the news of new first years coming to the academy, you and megumi hadn’t been expecting to build new relationships. nobara kugisaki and itadori yuuji were the new first years and students that you two had to work with.

they were a handful, especially yuuji who became the vessel of the king of curses, ryomen sukuna. the first few weeks of getting to know the new students, it was quite awkward and naturally you and megumi stuck together. that isn’t unnoticed by kugisaki nor yuuji.

“are you and y/n dating?” yuuji had asked one day. the four of you had been training when the two boys had gone to get drinks from the vending machines. megumi glanced at the pink haired boy as he pressed a button on the machine.

“no.” he simply replied. “are you interested in her?”

“no, no.” the former waved his hands. “i just thought so because you guys are always together.”

“we aren’t dating.” you two had said. on the other hand, kugisaki had asked you the same question.

“hah?” she drew out in disbelief. “there is no way. you guys are always together! you don’t even have a speck of feelings for him?” you pick at the edges of your sweater and shrug. did you even think of megumi that way? well, he may appear cold, but he has his ways of concern. like when he catches you before you fell down those stairs one day, or when he brings you your favorite snacks when you’re not well, or taking care of you when you’re ill…

the next thing you knew, your face had flushed and burned red.

“you do!” kugisaki pointed out and laughed out loud. you could die. you hid your head in the palms of your hands and cringed. this can’t be.

“what’s so funny, kugisaki?” yuuji’s voice says. the voice suddenly made you shoot your head up knowing if the pink haired boy was there, then an all too familiar spikey haired boy would be back too. your eyes effortlessly fall onto megumi’s who looks back in concern.

“you’re red. are you alright?” he asked. if your face could feel any hotter, it could.

“she’s fine! she just overdid training!” kugisaki lied through her teeth whilst attempting to hold back her laughter and patting your back.

“well, you can sit this one out until you feel better.” megumi offers and you nod dumbly. you just dug your own grave. with your feelings now surfaced, you can’t do anything except keep your newfound feelings locked tightly in your heart. megumi doesn’t need to know about them. however, that’s beginning to get difficult when you’ve gotten yourself in situations where megumi was always there to catch you before you fell.

“you’ve really been out of it, y/n. are you sure you’re okay?” he had asked. you had just bumped your head against the wall when you found megumi walking down the opposite side of the hall and you had abruptly turned around to avoid him, but ended up hitting your head on the wall.

“i’m fine.” you shake your head, holding the cool ice pack against your head.

“i don’t think so, you’ve been spacing out a lot lately and i’m worried about you.” the words fall so effortlessly from his lips and you clench your eyes closed, feeling how your heart begins to race erratically.

“i’m fine, megumi. really.” you assured, looking up at him and giving him your best grin. megumi does not believe you, but he lets you be and withdraws back in the chair.

“what about you? how are you holding up on training with kugisaki?” you ask this time to settle your nerves. a small groan leaves the other’s lips and you can’t help but chuckle.

“that bad huh?”

“it’s not that.” megumi starts. “she always tries to find a way to ask if you and i are dating. clearly, we’re not but she’s persistent. it’s worse because itadori is also asking.” your heart clenches a little at his words, but you swallow it down to the pit of your stomach. is it really that bad?

“i mean we can just say that we are dating, but we actually aren’t. like you know, fake dating. kind of?” the boy looks at you with a small tilt of his head.

“why?” you begin to get anxious and clear your throat, looking behind him to prepare what to say next.

“w-well it’s going to get awkward between us if they keep asking, right? i mean they’ll probably stop pestering us?” you reason hopefully. megumi is silent and you’re beginning to regret your offer.

“i-i mean it’s only a thought, it’s not that we have to follow–”

“no. i think that’ll be a good idea. they’ll definitely stop asking.” he nods. “let’s do it.”

“y-yeah.” and when you guys told kugisaki and yuuji that you two were ‘dating,’ they had sighed in relief claiming that they ‘knew it’ and you two were ‘just hiding it.’ you chuckled awkwardly and nodded along.

fortunately, the plan did work and kugisaki and yuuji had stopped bothering you guys about your relationship. on the other hand, you can’t help but notice the tense awkwardness between you and megumi whenever you two were alone together. maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.

you’re in kugisaki’s room for another of your group to get together to down all kinds of junk food and watch corny horror movies. after getting tired of movies, you’re all on the bed and chatting away–more like kugisaki and yuuji are chatting your ears off. and you’re not sure how the conversation was directed at you and megumi’s relationship. if you even want to call it that.

“what do you mean?” you looked at the orange head skeptically.

“kiss! i meant kiss! have you guys even kissed yet?” the question hangs in the air and you can feel the spiked boy behind you tense, shuffling his legs. you avoid the prying eyes and clear your throat. what the hell were you guys going to respond to that? the silent response makes nobara and itadori’s jaws drop.

“no way!” they both exclaim, gasping and covering their mouths ever so dramatically.

“you guys dated this long and you haven’t even kissed once?” itadori inquired, brows raised in shock. you utter something that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“what was that, y/n?”

“we weren’t even dating in the first place.” silence consumes the room before it erupts into sounds of gasps and an uproar of shouts.

“what?!”

“no way! why did you lie?!” kugisaki voiced offensively.

“you guys were so insistent that we were dating, but we really weren’t. so, we just pretended to date so you guys would stop asking.” you say. kugisaki and yuuji don’t say anything and their eyes glance at megumi who seems to find a strange liking in picking at the edges of his sweatpants. the two glance at each other and settle back onto the bed.

“we didn’t mean to have forced anything on you two.” kugisaki said, gentle and a little guilty because it seemed like the two of you were on the brink of something that she did not want to happen. you weren’t able to respond when you feel megumi shuffle behind you and off the bed.

“i’m tired. i’m just. gonna go sleep.” megumi muttered, hand rubbing his neck and eyes refusing to meet anyone’s. he cleared his throat and shuffled out of the room. the room is silent again. two pairs of eyes fall on your slumped frame and when itadori opens his mouth to say something, he’s cut off with yours.

“i’m tired too. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” and you, too, leave the room without another word. the following days have been the hardest for you. you were foolishly hooked up on your feelings for the spiky haired boy which caused you to fall countless times while training with kugisaki. she knew what got you so up in the clouds and felt guilty for what she put you two through.

“i think you should try confessing just to get it off your chest.” she told you. “trust me, it’ll be awkward at first, but you guys will forget it later. probably even look back and laugh about it.” you take her words into consideration and nod defeatedly.

“yeah, i guess.” was everything going to go back to normal once you do confess? would you guys really look back and laugh about it as part of your silly adolescent life? a heavy sigh leaves your lips.

“speak of the devil.” she grinned and nodded her head to which you followed and looked behind you. it’s megumi. he has a hand in his pocket and the other is rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes are looking to the side.

“may i speak to you, y/n?”

“o-oh. yeah, sure.” you two leave the area and head to the vending machines where you two get your respective drinks for you and your friends. that is until megumi stands to his full height and faces you, making you look at him confused.

“megumi?” you hear him clear his throat and breath out.

“i, uh, i’ve really thought about it over the time we have been apart, and,” he swallows. “i really like you, y/n. i know it’s still awkward between us because of what happened, but i needed to tell you this.” you’re stunned, shocked at what you heard. you couldn’t even process what he said when he started to doubt his words and begin to take them back.

“n-no!” you abruptly say, shaking your head. you swallow whatever was left of you and say those four words of reciprocation, albeit stumbled over them.

“i like you too, megumi.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs are welcomed! ෆ(´ . .̫ . `)ෆ what can i get for you?

special patrons! @lovelytarou @urpoesia | join my special patron list here! |

#nana.orders #n.taro milk tea #n.small drinks #n.fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi imagine #megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

167 notes · View notes

fa-headhoncho · 3 years

Text

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 2058

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers? canon level violence, john walker

Author’s Note: im being lazy and not writing rn but i have a stock pile of fics so get ready for shitty posts :p

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

=====

Once you get onto the plane, you don’t hold back your emotions. The fight was enough but how Walker talked to Sam and Bucky on the car ride over sent you over the edge. You had to admit, the kid had good intentions but there was something about him that was off.

You don’t even wait for his private jet to lift off before turning to him and pinning him against the nearest wall. Your forearm was laying across his chest while the other was hovering over the knife clipped onto your hip. His managers and friend stand up, rushing to try to pry you off of him but he raises a hand to stop them. “Who the hell do you think you fucking are, huh?”

“Captain America.” He simply responds, looking at down you with a cocky smile. You let out a scoff, the audacity of this man. “Look, I didn’t know that you knew them.”

“Yes, you did.” You exclaim while your forearm digs into his chest, “You read my parole reports, it shows where I spend my time and who I talk to, Bucky and Sam being the main two who I interact with. They’re my friends and you’re using me as a pawn. Steve wouldn’t have done that, Captain America wouldn’t have done that.”

“You talk about looking up to him but you’re nothing like him. You throw around ‘brother’ like it means nothing, you have no idea what those two have gone through with Steve. You hold the shield like it’s a toy and using it to get what you want.” Your voice is menacing low and you knew if you still had your parole officer that he would be scolding you for it.

“Captain America stood up for the little guys but you’re just using it as a title, abusing it to act like the hero you tried to be before. You’re a fucking joke.” You release him and walk away. The air in the room felt tense as you plop down on the chair closest to the exit, furthest away from his management team who didn’t know what just happened.

“If you think I’m going to stand by your side after how you just treated my friends, you’re dead fucking wrong.” You shake your head and lean forward in your seat.

He lets out a chuckle, taking a step towards you with his hands fisted by his side. “You’re going to help me if I say you are. I say the words and you’re locked back in the goddamn cell where you belong. Remember who brought you here in the first place.”

“Hey, John, calm down.” Hoskins finally buds in. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, following him to join the rest of their team.

You shift your eyes to the floor, knowing he’s right. The power the government is giving their new Captain is a desperate attempt to give hope to those after the Blip. It’s going straight to his head and you knew it was going to get worse in the long run.

The rest of the flight is awkward. The tension never settling even if Walker acts like nothing just happened. Hoskins was keeping a close eye on you like you were going to bounce back to your Hydra days and take out everyone on the plane. To be fair, you wanted to but you weren’t stupid and you didn’t want to give him another reason to send you back.

Once the plane touches down, you’re out the door. The group was barely out of the seats before they could see you disappear into the airport. Haling a cab and taking it back to the apartment they were renting for you, changing out of your gear and plopping down onto the bed.

The events of the day finally collapse down onto you. This situation was going to be a lot harder than you originally thought. Walker explained it as just one mission to see where the Flag Smashers were taking the stolen vaccines and you would be on your way. “Free at last” to use his words but now you were roped in for the long haul.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face either. He had confided in you about how he felt about the new Captain and how lost he felt. If Steve wasn’t right about Sam then what the hell was wrong with Bucky?

Before you realize it, tears were streaming down your cheeks. You knew it was too early to try to reach out to them so you decide to give them time. They were still processing their interactions with the new Captain and the new information about the Flag Smashers being super-soldiers.

If you were going to have to work with Walker, you were going to have to figure out a plan. Racking your brain for ideas, one comes to mind that would be risky. It would be worth it, though. Staring up at the ceiling, you start strategizing a way you could pull this off. You were one of Hydra’s best agents so hopefully, this would be easy. After going against your original thought and shooting Sam a quick text, you slowly drift off asleep.

=====

Your leg bounces under the table as you stare at the clock above the door. It was half-past seven and the breakfast rush was winding down. The diner was slowly emptying, leaving a hand full of tables with families and friends enjoying their meal. The waitress comes up to your booth, standing there until you notice her.

“Ready to order yet, hun’?” The nice older lady questions, breaking your gaze from the entrance to her. You shake your head no before turning back to the door. She gives you a sad smile before looking down at her watch, “It’s been almost twenty minutes, sweetie, are you sure your friends are still coming?”

You nod quickly, no matter what kind of circumstances the two soldiers would never stand you up. Their hearts were too kind for that. “I was just a bit early, I’m kind of nervous.” You shyly admit, sending her a smile.

“Well, I’m bringing you something to eat at least,” She commands, you open your mouth to reject but she cuts you off, “on the house.” She gives you a firm look before walking off to the back.

Right as she disappears into the kitchen, the bell of the diner dings. Your head snaps to it and you can’t help the large smile that appears on your face at the sight of the duo walking in. The two immediately see you since you placed yourself right near the door.

Sam sends you back a smile while Bucky just eyes you down. You were wearing a simple sweater and pants while they were in their usual civilian gear, a ballcap and jacket. You couldn’t help but ogle at how good Bucky looked in the blue Hently you two bought when he first came to Brooklyn.

They slip into the booth, their broad figures barely fitting on the small seat. Sam elbows Bucky as he tries to get comfortable but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Morning.” You try to make conversation. “How was the rest of your day yesterday?”

“He got arrested.” Sam bluntly says making your jaw drop. “He missed his check-in with the shrink.”

“I told you not to tell her.” Bucky makes out through clenched teeth, he just shrugs in response. You go to scold him but he holds a steady hand out, “You can yell at me all you want later, what do you want? We don’t have much time.” Your heart drops with how aggressive he’s being towards you.

“I want to help you.” You announce, ignoring Bucky’s eye roll as he remembers who you’re working with. He goes to tell you off just like he told Walker but you start rambling before he could utter a word, “I know it’s not the ideal situation but Walker wants me on his team. If I could earn his trust and figure out what their plans are, I can report back to you two.”

“And how do we not know this is a setup?” Sam points out, leaning forward on the table as Bucky looks around the diner for any sign of said Captain America, “They could be listening right now, they still have you under lock and key.”

You gleam at the mention of that, realizing that you haven’t told them the good news. “Not anymore.” You extend your leg out from under the table for Bucky to see your naked ankle. “Walker pulled some strings to get me off my parole earlier.”

A look of realization comes across Sam’s face once he pieces everything together. He knew how mad you were about the new Captain America, how you helped him and Bucky against the Smashers instead of the other two, and how you didn’t know anything about Bucky getting arrested made sense.

“So, you made a deal with the devil.” Bucky snarkily questions, a look of disappointment on his face.

You let out a scoff at his words, “I did what I had to do, James. Not all of us were lucky enough to get pardoned.” You spit back, tired of how he was acting. “He tricked me, told me it was just one simple favor to repay him. Now, he wants me to be a part of his team to take down the Flag Smashers. Told me if I didn’t help that he would send me back to jail and it would reset everything I had accomplished in the last five years.”

Bucky’s eyes soften at your confession, hanging his head in embarrassment at his assumptions. The waitress comes up and sets the small plate of food down in front of you, giving an awkward smile to the boys before walking off.

You let out a sigh, feeling bad for yelling at him. He was being a dick but that didn’t mean you had to be one back to him. He was going through a lot and this was the last thing he needed.

Grabbing the fork, you stare down at the pancakes. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything but just understand where I’m coming from, please.”

They share a look as they silently communicate. Bucky narrows his eyes and Sam tilts his head at him. You look between them as you try to figure out what’s going on.

“I can’t read your mind, cyborg. Use your words.” Sam finally spits out then elbows him one more time, “Will you please scoot over? I’m suffocating over here!”

Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes at his friend. He gets up out of the booth and slips in next to you, using his larger form to push you closer to the window. Your eyes widen in surprise as he slings his arm to rest behind your head. He then takes the extra fork and stabs it into your hashbrowns.

Sam lets out an awe as he watches the two of you eat from your plate, “Don’t you two look so cute.”

“Shut up, Sam.” You both demand at the same time. He raises his hands up in defense, leaning back in the booth with a smug smile on his face. The two of you easily fall into conversation, catching up on things and giggling at the little jokes he was making. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence as the two of you enjoy the meal, you remember what Sam mentioned earlier.

Bucky lets out a little yelp when you send a swift smack to the back of his head, making the hashbrowns he was about to eat fall off his fork. “What the hell was that for?”

“For getting arrested, are you kidding me, James? Do you know what could’ve happened to you? I swear to God, James Buchanan Barnes, you will be the death of me—“ You continue to scold while Sam lets out a booming laugh. Mad at him for being so careless, you poke and prod at his chest but stop when you notice the expression on his face. Your heart can’t handle the way he pulls out his puppy dog eyes and his pouted lip. “Oh, don’t pull that shit with me.”

_____

untitled tfawts fic: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu #the winter solider x reader #twatws #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #sebastian stan

154 notes · View notes

rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴅ ⓟⓐⓡⓣ ①

______________________

ғʀᴀᴛʙᴏʏ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sʜʏ-ɪsʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴜ

(ɪɴᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (two part series!) You’re starting to struggle in class and decide to ask your professor for some tutoring or extra classes to boost your grade. He ends up assigning the last person you’d expect to tutor you. (is it really a surprise though?)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none in this chapter ;)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟸.𝟸ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅs (sᴏʀʀʏ ɪᴛ’s ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ)

______________________

You stare at your work for what seems like hours before deciding to glance at the clock only to find it’s been 20 mins. This subject was never your strong suit but in order to earn your desired degree, you had to take this class. You’d been putting it off for some time but it’s just better to get it over with then struggle right before graduation. So here you are sitting and staring at the work that just doesn’t seem to make sense.

By the time your professor released the class for the day, you’d barely even lifted your pen from the table.

“Y/n, could I speak to you for a minute?” your professor said, “James, if you could stay as well.”

“What’s up, professor?” Bucky flashed a cheeky smile. The bastard has always been charming since you saw him and especially taking a couple classes with him too. A huge player too of course. I mean what’s a frat boy without getting laid after every party they throw.

“Lemme speak to you first,” he gestured to you, “how is the assignment going?”

You were a bit embarrassed to admit that you were struggling a lot especially in front of Bucky. He’s actually a pretty nice person but not really being a super social one yourself, he tends to intimidate you along with the rest of his friends more than you’d like to admit.

“Well if I’m being honest, I can’t seem to grasp onto the material. I’m really trying but I just can’t,” you practically whispered.

You didn’t want to but you took a quick glance at Bucky to see what he was probably thinking but thankfully he was on his phone; probably giving you as much privacy as he could.

“Well is there anything you like me to do to help in understanding the material? Maybe a tutor?”

“Yes, that would probably be beneficial,” you chuckled.

“Perfect, because James here is one the best students I’ve had,” ok kinda backhanded.

Bucky’s head shot up when he heard his name and quickly put his phone away averted his attention to the professor.

“Right James?”

“Hmm?”

“James here has a 97% in the class. He’s got the highest grade of all my classes,” the professor seemed like a proud father to him. Bucky merely just shook his head, getting really shy almost. Bucky, shy? Weird.

“I don’t think that’s true,” he murmured.

“Nope, 100% true. Your teachers and I talk a lot about you. You’re very gifted, James,” James looked at you completely embarrassed. You stood with wide eyes because you didn’t think frat boys actually took their studies seriously. They’re usually up late with all the parties they throw every weekend and some of them are so indulged into their sports that they probably didn’t have time to get A’s in their classes.

“So what do you say, Y/n? Willing to let him tutor you?”

“I mean if he has time and wants to, I’d be very appreciative of it.”

“Yeah I guess I can,” he smiled.

“Thank you, and thank you too, Professor.”

“Looking forward to that assignment, Y/n. Now scram, kids.”

“Hey thanks for-”

“You can’t tell anyone that I'm tutoring you,” he cut you off, not in a mean way, just panicked.

“Oh ok.”

“I mean it. Look it was already hard getting into the frat house and now being head of house, it’ll be embarrassing if they found out I’m a nerd.”

“What’s so bad about being a nerd?”

“I don’t know. It’s like an unspoken rule I guess.”

“What a nerd,” you joked.

“Whatever,” he chuckled, “So your place or mine?”

“Huh?” you questioned.

“For tutoring? Do you want me to come over?”

“Oh I thought we would do that in the library or something,” you responded.

“I mean we can, I just didn’t know what time and the library closes pretty early.”

“You can come over. I’ll ask my roommate if it’s ok.”

“Ok, let me get your number so we can coordinate.”

“Ok, thanks again, Tom.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he smiled back.

+++

“Girl what are you getting yourself into?” your roommate, Natasha questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“Buck is gonna tutor you? I’m pretty sure he knows jack shit about what is going on in that class.” Right, no one knows he’s practically a genius.

“I don’t know. My professor said he could help me so I’m gonna give it a shot. He can’t stupider than me, especially with this subject.”

“Ok,” she mocked.

“But if he tries anything let me know,” she warned.

“Why would he try anything?” you asked, confused about the sudden subject change.

“Y/n, Bucky is a huge player. He’s hooked up with like more than half the girls in the sorority houses. Hell, even I hooked up with him.”

“Oh my god, what!”

“It was last year when I was in a house. I hated it so I moved out this year. Still friends with Wanda though. You’d like her.”

“Ok well I don’t think he will, I mean look at me.”

“What?”

You hesitated because you weren’t the most confident person. There was nothing wrong with you but there also wasn’t anything special. You were barely a social person let alone some who could easily pursue a relationship or even a hook up.

“I think you’re hot, but something tells me you think otherwise,” Nat said.

“I don’t wanna get into it but just know you won’t have to worry about anything happening.”

You texted Bucky that he could come over whenever he was available and about 30 mins later he was knocking on your door ready to help you with the assignment.

+++

Obviously nothing happened that night, or the night after, or the night after. Or the next four weeks after. Bucky was actually helping you understand the material a lot better. You were still a bit confused but not as much as before. During your sessions you were beginning to learn a lot more things about Bucky like how his childhood best friend Steve Rogers was also a member in the house; and also knows about his prodigy brain.

“How’s the tutoring going?” Steve asked walking into the kitchen where you and Bucky were doing work.

“Good I guess,” you responded.

“Well I’ll uh, leave you two be.”

He didn’t in fact leave but instead start gesturing quite aggressively to ask you more questions to get to know you better. See what you didn’t know was that Bucky had taken even more of a liking to you since starting your study sessions together. He never pursued anything because he didn’t want to scare you and definitely didn’t want you to think that he was taking advantage of the situation you guys were in; you know being your tutor and all.

Sure Bucky was kind of a player but the rumors of sleeping with another girl at every party every weekend wasn’t totally true. He hooked up with a couple girls but he wasn’t a sex addict. And he definitely didn’t leave them high and dry. He would usually meet up with the girls but they didn’t seem to want anything more than a one night stand.

He sort of gave up on finding a relationship and soon after altogether stopped having sex, especially at their parties the boys host every weekend. He definitely wasn’t waiting until marriage but he didn’t want to feel used anymore because that was seemingly the case after each ‘hook-up’ that happened.

When Bucky first saw you in class, he truly thought you the most beautiful girl ever. He quickly caught on to the fact that you were not a social person; you weren’t exactly shy but definitely didn’t initiate conversation. You always kept to yourself in the back of each classroom and quietly did your work. Bucky goddamn fell head over heels for you.

But you two never talked.

Every chance he got to initiate some sort of conversation was quickly taken away whether it’d be the end of class time where you’d briskly leave the classroom to attend your next lecture, or the boys in his house would meet up with him completely interfering with his window to talk to you. And it’s not like you ever went to any of the frat parties.

So he continued to chase you all the while having absolutely no idea one of the most well known and well liked frat boys at the university having this massive giant enormous fat crush on you. And to top it off, now that he’s certainly got all the time in the world to finally get to know you, he freezes up and can only seem to answer your questions… about school.

You didn’t take Bucky to be such an awkward guy. You definitely didn’t think with all the girls that are constantly after him and how charismatic he seemed he would actually be super quiet awkward after the initial ‘Hey, what’s up!’.

You grew a liking to him though because he wasn’t annoying. The majority of guys in the house were pretty loud and obnoxious whenever you got the chance to hear them usually while you were studying in Bucky’s room because again, no one really knew how much of a nerd he really was. But you never actually met the rest of the boys. You’d always managed to sneak out to avoid confrontation about why you're even there.

Speaking of loud and obnoxious frat boys.

“Hey hey hey!” they walked in.

Immediately you and Bucky grabbed all the papers and threw them in your backpack while Steve went out to hopefully stall the boys from coming into the kitchen like they always did after football practice.

As soon as the last paper went inside your bag, the boys walked past Steve into the kitchen to find you and Bucky standing there awkwardly.

“Who’s this?” Tony asked.

“This is a girl in my class, Y/n.”

“Whatcha doing here?”

“She’s tutoring me,” Bucky quickly lied. Ironically.

“Oh man, dude,” one of the boys laughed.

“Well we’ll be out of your hair. Good luck, Bucky and don’t annoy her.”

“We’ll be in my room studying you guys are fine,” Bucky grabbed your arm and took upstairs to his room.

“So they’re fine with you being tutored but not tutoring?” you asked in a mocking tone.

“It’s a weird rule but also a lot of the guys downstairs get tutored too. Like Vis, and Thor, oh Thor. Loki does too and Steve. But if I’m being honest, I do in fact think Bruce and Tony are science nerds. But Tony sleeps around enough to distract from it, not Bruce so much but he’s pretty quiet.”

“Ugh, boys.”

“Anyways, shall we continue?” he chuckled.

“I guess, yeah.”

After about an hour in his room, you ended up leaning out of studying and more into talking and getting to know each other; properly this time.

“And yeah, that’s how my sister’s pants exploded.”

“That’s hilarious.”

There was a moment of silence between you two before it got too awkward and you spoke out.

“I should probably get going.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“I can call a cab. It’s fi-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, “I’ll drive you. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yeah. It’s totally fine.”

You told Bucky your address to your apartment and remained in silence during the majority of the car ride.

“You know I never striked you as a quiet person,” you broke the silence.

“What? I’m not a quiet person.”

“Yes you are. Everytime we have a study session it’s usually silent until I have to ask you a question about something.”

“Well, it’s not my intention to be so awkward around you.”

“Why are you?” you asked him.

“I don’t know,” then it got quiet again.

You arrived at your apartment and unclicked your seatbelt. You turned to Bucky to say goodbye and realized how close you two were. Admittedly you didn’t mind too much; what you didn’t expect was for Bucky to in fact kiss you. He grabbed your arm gently and pulled closer to him as his eyes closed, lips moving against yours slowly. You weren’t exactly mad but you weren’t also happy with this outcome.

Despite Bucky not hooking up with anyone for a long time now and being completely enamored by you, you still believe he was a ladies man because he hadn’t told you otherwise. You didn’t want to be another name added to the list of a frat boy’s one night stands. So you pulled away with slightly furrowed brows and Bucky realized he fucked up.

“Thanks again, Bucky,” you quickly got out of the car, not acknowledging him shouting your name before the car door closed. You ran up the steps to enter your apartment as fast as you can, still feeling the taste of him on your lips and tongue. God why did he have to do that?

Bucky sat in his car for a bit but decided to leave to not bother you and possibly fuck things up more than they already are. He’ll wait for you to come to him so he doesn’t seem invasive. Yeah that’s the plan.

But things don’t normally go to plan right?

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky #bucky fluff #frat!boy bucky barnes #collage!bucky #collage au

439 notes · View notes

unknownkthrn · 2 years

Text

A Not-So-Awkward Awkward Christmas

Genre :: fluff

Word Count :: 1,797

Paring :: Boyfriend!Hendery

Warnings :: stuff that makes no sense i think

Notes :: um :c it’s the 22 already :c i forgot about this but i got this out so :D (actually it's the 24th now but :c)

Meeting your lover’s parents was nerve-wracking enough, but now you got to get your parents to meet each other. You really hoped it would go nicely; your parents seemed to really like Hendery, and his parents liked you as well. And you have been dating for a few years now, so inviting them over for the holidays shouldn’t be a bad thing, right? Unless something really bad happens and makes you hate Christmas for the rest of your life but that’s not going to happen, right?

Well, anyway, you’ve been preparing for their arrival for a week now. You were trying to. You tried your best to get your parents’ favourites to match up, planning for what you would eat, where you could visit, activities to do.

Your boyfriend could feel your stressful aura even when he wasn’t near you.

“Come on, what could go wrong?”

“By saying that, things could actually go wrong.”

“Yeah... But I don’t think lying in bed all day would help anything.”

“I’m not-” You cut yourself off as you know you definitely have been just lounging in bed all day. You groan as you climb out of bed, stretching only to fall onto the ground. “I can’t do this.”

“Nope, you can’t.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Hendery seems to not notice the glare you sent in his direction, or maybe he just didn’t care. “I think with your planning, the worst that could happen is that they get poisoned from your cooking.”

“Mmm, maybe. Should we take them to a restaurant instead, then?”

“For both days? Ouchie, wallet. Oh, that reminds me, you told me to remind you that you changed your plans and that my sisters are coming the next day..”

“Wait, what? When did I say that?”

“Well, I said that my parents would need to head back to Macao to meet with my sisters and that I would be going too. But then you suggested that they come over too.”

“Ugh. I’m just going to find the nearest trash bin to shove my head into and hopefully, the stinkiness can just kill me.”

Hendery sighs, “Don’t do that. Come on. We can think of something. Hey, why don’t we do something like this?” He shows you something on his phone, your eyes lighting up.

“That’s actually not a bad idea. See, this is why I love you.” You sent your boyfriend a quick peck before getting up to get ready.

The day of your parents’ arrival came super fast with your days filled with planning.

“What if your parents suddenly don’t like me anymore.”

“Wha- Why would they?”

“I don’t know? Maybe they found something embarrassing about me and were like-”

“Oh, look. There’s my parents’ car!” Hendery was super thankful that the car arrived, able to cut your rambling off.

“Uhh... I’ll get the door.”

Hendery’s parents had arrived first, since they only had to drive a few hours, whereas your parents lived a little farther so they had to take the train, instead. Hendery’s parents actually were early, so Hendery went to show them around while you finished cleaning up the already clean house and adding a few decorations. You also began cooking after getting a text from your parents saying that they are boarding the train.

Soon it was dinner time, and for the first time, your small kitchen was filled. At first, it was quite awkward. But you just couldn’t take it, so you asked your “future-in-laws” about their work. Having both your parents working in the same industry helped break the tension and got them talking. But then they brought up marriage so the conversations went back to being awkward.

After an awfully awkward dinner, Hendery’s dad walks up to your mom, wide-eyed, “Wait! You are...”

“Oh my gosh! [insert hendery dad’s name here]!”

You and Hendery just look at each other, confused.

Your mom just continued chatting with your boyfriend’s dad while you and said boyfriend sits there awkwardly.

“Okay, this may be awkward, but if they had brought this up during dinner, maybe we wouldn’t have been eating in such thick air.”

“Yeah, and I’m still confused...”

You pat Hendery’s back, “Then let’s go join their conversation.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea... But sure.”

“Hey, mom. So, uh, you know Hendery’s dad?” You play with your fingers behind your back, fiddling with nerves.

“Yes! We went to high school together and also dated for a while.”

Despite your mother’s enthusiastic voice, you’re taken back.

Of all the awkward things that happened today, this definitely broke the meter.

You blink and slowly nod your head, “Ooookay. That’s great. Now you two can catch up or whatever while I’ll just go to the living room with my boyfriend.” You slid your feet and backed yourself back into the living room

“So what do we do now?” Hendery looks at you, clearly uncomfortable from what just happened.

“We could just let them talk and catch up? I mean just because they dated like a couple of decades ago won’t mean anything, right? I mean they’re both already married and have kids... Right?”

“Not to mention, those kids are dating each other.”

“Hope the awkward surprises have left and aren’t planning on returning uninvited again tomorrow.”

Thankfully, the next day, things definitely better (except for maybe you and Hendery since you had to pretend there weren't only two bedrooms in the house), the air was much more comfortable to breathe in.

You planned on taking the parents to a movie you heard them talking about that was returning to the theatres. You were really hopeful that your parents still like that movie because it took you a while to find it.

“This is so boring.” Hendery whispers from beside you.

“Just shush. They seem to enjoy it so-“

You turn your head to the side to look at your parents who were chatting with your boyfriend’s parents.

“Oh, um...” Then suddenly a loud noise echoes through the theatres. Your parents turn to face the front. “O-oh. That wasn’t the movie...?”

Hendery chuckles at you. “Let’s just watch then.”

After the movie, which wasn’t as boring as you thought it’d be; your parents seemed to have enjoyed it pretty much.

But you were excited about where you were bringing them next.

A Christmas hotel.

Hopefully, Hendery was right about this.

In the Christmas Hotel, there were a bunch of winter activities for foreigners, or just visitors in general. Although it costs a great amount, it covers everything in the building, including the ice-skating rink you were taking your parents to after settling into their rooms.

“Although this is smart and fun... I can’t believe I had to spend so much effort cleaning the guest room.”

“Hey, at least we solved the ‘only one extra room’ problem, right?” Hendery smiles down at you, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Yeah. Well now let’s go to the rink!”

After a fun day exploring the building, you and your parents return to your rooms, exhausted.

Maybe it wasn’t as fun as you hoped for, as your parents just chatted amongst each other for the majority, they seemed happy.

Now, you are getting ready for dinner. Although you basically get a meal with the expenses you paid for in the hotel, you still had a big meal prepared at home.

All six of you sit awkwardly at the table, filled with yummy food.

You don’t know if they feel awkward, but you could feel the air getting a little thick.

Is it because they didn’t have fun? Am I a bad cook? A bad hostess? Did something happen?

You open your mouth to apologize for the ‘crappy’ day just as Hendery’s mom smiles at you. “Did you make all this, sweetie?”

You smile back. “Yes. There’s a lot more so eat up.”

You fidget with your fingers. “I’m sorry today wasn’t as fun as I had hoped it would be.”

“Oh sweetie, why would you say that?” Four pairs of eyes look at you while your boyfriend looks at the said pairs.

“Well um, the air has been quite awkward, even for me. And uh... If you didn’t like anything, please let me know. I wasn’t really good with the planning, and if it wasn’t for Hendery, today would probably be a mess... Maybe even non-existent...”

“Well, maybe it is a bit awkward since you meet an ex who happens to be your kid’s girlfriend’s mother... But I’d say today was rather fun. Well, except for the rink incident. That was terrible.” Hendery’s dad says, shooting you a small smile as the rest of the room bursts into laughter at the memory.

Your eyes sparkle, “You really think so??” And when everyone nods, you smile. “Yay! I’m glad. Now let me be right back, I need to get something.”

You ran into the kitchen and quickly try to redecorate the cake you decorated as a sorry cake, ‘I’m sorry for the terrible day’ written across in frosting. Your eyes kept travelling to the door separating the kitchen and the dining area which you closed. Based on the chatter and laughter behind it, you positively hope no one goes through.

After quickly wiping off and stuffing your face with the frosting, you got another pipe and quickly wrote ‘happy holidays!’ onto the cake, before bringing it to the dining room.

“Hey, sorry for the delay, but I made cake.” You smile which turns into a subtle glare at your boyfriend who was stifling his laughter, most likely on your poor few-seconds handwriting.

It was heavy, okay?? And I had like only two seconds to write everything.

You pout to yourself even though it was directed to Hendery.

“Ooh! That’s really pretty! You are very talented.” Your mother smiles at you, which you return.

“But I guess I can apologize for making this awkward between you and Mr. Wong.”

“No, no dear. It wasn’t like you could now, right? Anyways, let’s eat.”

The rest of the evening went smoothly, and when your parents went back to the hotel, you almost fell asleep right away.

“Hey, you can’t sleep, yet.” Hendery nudges you, just as he collapses the same beside you.

“It’s okay. You can deal with the mess tomorrow...” You barely said before you started snoring.

“Yeah sur- Wait, what? Hey, that’s not fair.” Hendery turns to you. He sighs and gets up and carries you back to your shared bedroom, tucking you into the bed. He smiles and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, what more could I want for an awkward Christmas with my lovely girlfriend?”

Then he quickly gets changed and collapses beside you on the bed, falling into a deep slumber from the tiring day.

#a neo christmas #nct fluff #nct u #christmas fluff #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream fluff #wong hendery fluff #wong hendery #wong kunhang #nct hendery #hendery #hendery fluff #hendery x reader #hendery fanfic #wayv hendery #wayv #wayv fanfic #wayv fluff

32 notes · View notes

bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Pink Lace - Chapter 5

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

After your conversation with Baekhyun Monday evening Tuesday was spent desperately trying to get Baekhyun off your mind, with little success. He’d asked you if you liked him like that, and you couldn’t tell him no. Hell, you knew in the back of your mind that the answer was definitely yes, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it to his face.

As much as you did like him, the prospect of starting something with a customer who was also your professor was still terrifying. What if you two got together and people found out? Or what if things started to go south and you were still stuck with him as your teacher?

Despite your other schoolwork, and cleaning basically everything you possibly could, your mind just kept racing with every different possible scenario for if you did tell Baekhyun how you felt. And most of them were quite unpleasant. He could lose his job, you could make class absolute hell for yourself if things didn’t go well, and so on. Different possibilities played themselves out in your mind over and over, and there was little you could do to stop it.

However the thoughts that stuck with you the most were the ones where things didn’t end badly. Thoughts of his arms around you, his comforting words whispered in your ear, and the gentle touches of his pretty hands on your skin. As much as you fought it, the attraction was there.

The way your mind bounced between thoughts was stressful to no end. Every time you tried reasoning with yourself, you just thought about how good he made you feel when you were alone together.

Baekhyun was always so willing to be vulnerable with you, it made you feel appreciated. He was so open about his feelings, and honest with his intentions towards you that it made it difficult to push him away. You wanted to be able to show him the same kind of vulnerability as well, but the possibilities if you did still frightened you too much.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to go on like this forever, sooner or later you had to figure out what to say to him.

Your essay was plaguing you as well. You’d tried to start it on several occasions, but Plato’s writing was so old timey and incomprehensible you didn’t even know where to start. It also didn’t help that every time you tried to start writing, all you could think about was what Baekhyun would think. The idea of turning a shitty paper in for him to read and grade made you feel sick. You knew you were shooting yourself in the foot putting it off but you just couldn’t bring yourself to start it either.

“You’ve cleaned everything in the apartment. Twice. What’s with you today y/n?” Mia asked as she walked out of her bedroom and into the common area, finding you once again wiping down all the surfaces in the kitchen.

“I’m trying to distract myself, was that not obvious?” You knew what was coming next.

“Baekhyun still on your mind?”

Yes. He was. In every possible way, good and bad, and you couldn’t stop it.

“I think I do like him.”

“See! I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at her. “Anything exciting happen yesterday? Did you decide to keep the money?” She asked, sitting down at the dining room table, you sitting down across from her.

“I’m keeping it, I tried giving it back but he told me some stuff and turns out he doesn’t need it after all.”

“So he IS rich?!”

“Yeah... although not from anything cool or fun. His rich parents died recently.”

“Oh shit, that sucks. That must’ve been an awkward conversation.”

“Not really. I don’t know why but talking to him is getting easier and easier. I even stayed after he told me I could go.”

“You really must like him then, damn. Can’t blame you though, he is hot.” You shot her an angry look but you both knew she was right. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do about what?”

“You liking him. He obviously likes you a lot too, so what happens next?”

“Nothing. He’s my professor.”

The look she shot you next said something reminiscent of ‘are you fucking serious’.

“Oh come on y/n this guy is hot, and rich, and super into you. Even if he is your professor you can’t pass up a fling at least.”

“And when it ends? What then? Or if someone finds out he’s fucking a student? He’d lose his job and it would be my fault.”

“No, it would be his fault, and he’s rich anyway so it wouldn’t even matter.”

You thought back to your last conversation with Baekhyun, and what he said about his parents. Even if he did choose to risk it for you, the thought of him losing a job that meant so much to him still didn’t sit right with you.

“It would matter to me. Either way I don’t want other students shit talking me either. If my classmates found out there was something between us it would be hell.”

“All I'm hearing right now, is that you just need to not get caught. The semester is only 16 weeks, as long as nothing gets out while you’re in his class nothing too bad can happen. You just have to be careful.”

You thought about it, and she wasn’t exactly wrong. As long as nothing got out while you were his student, nothing too bad could happen.

“He won’t lose his job if people find out we’re together later on when I’m not his student anymore, right?”

Mia shrugged. “He doesn’t hold any power over you anymore then so I don’t see why he’d get in any trouble. People might just think it’s weird since he’s older. How old is he anyway? He looks young.”

“I’m not exactly sure... Somewhere around 30? Late 20s maybe? I should ask him.”

“Yeah you should. I still have homework I need to do, I should get back to that.” She said before getting herself a glass of water and retreating back to her bedroom.

The next morning you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep because of everything that was going through your head. You wanted Baekhyun, and he wanted you, but there was still too much risk involved. But part of you kept thinking about what Mia had said as well. Could a fling really be that bad?

You were nervous to see him too. You still hadn’t given him an answer to his question, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to dodge it forever. Lying seemed like a decent option, but you knew with how honest and vulnerable Baekhyun always was with you, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to lie to him. Especially when you did want something more with him, you were just scared.

As philosophy class drew closer and closer you felt uneasy. You felt bad seeing Baekhyun again without giving him an answer, but you didn’t know how or what to say. You only hoped he wouldn’t press you for it.

Class went by and you didn’t speak to him. He didn’t keep you after either, which was a relief. You had been hoping he’d at least go over some stuff that would help you on your essay, but you had no such luck, and you needed it done by midnight if you wanted any credit.

When you got home you cursed yourself for procrastinating so much, but you had other homework too and you knew you’d be able to focus on that better, so you started it first.

Eventually your mind got sucked into your physics assignment, and you forgot about Baekhyun and the essay, too focused on the task at hand.

By the time you were done with your other assignments it was 8pm. Four hours until you had to submit your essay. One hour went by just reading and rereading the text you were supposed to write about. Another was wasted on an intro paragraph you kept deleting, because you still couldn’t understand the text. When 10pm hit, and you started to panic.

You realized that you weren’t going to be able to do it. Your mind was now in freak out mode and you couldn’t concentrate anyway. Either the paper wasn’t getting turned in at all, or you needed to do something fast. In any other class you would’ve BS-ed your way through it to turn at least something in, but you just couldn’t do that knowing Baekhyun was going to read it. You weren’t going to be able to submit it that night, but you needed to at least contact him and explain so he wouldn’t think you were stupid.

By 10:30 you found yourself scrolling through your contacts, staring at his name. You’d thought about emailing him, but he probably wouldn’t see until morning and you didn’t have that much time.

In hindsight you probably would’ve been fine to just send an email and try to get an extension, but the combination of anxiety over your grade and wanting to talk to him had his name in your phone looking better and better.

So you called.

Your nerves were on fire as you waited for him to hopefully pick up. Was this stupid? Would he even answer? Worst of all, what if he was disappointed in you for not being able to do the assignment?

After a few rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi Baekhyun, it’s y/n.”

“Y/n? Are you alright what’s going on?” You could hear the concern in his voice even over the phone, and you remembered why he gave you his number in the first place.

“I- I can’t do the essay.” You felt your voice shake, before unloading all your grievances in one breath “I read the thing a million times and I still have no idea what it’s about and I put it off until tonight cause it was making me so anxious but I still can’t focus and now it’s too late and I don’t know what to do and I’m freaking out.”

You heard him sigh. “Slow down, It’s okay, I know it’s a difficult assignment. Have you at least started?”

“No..” You felt tears swelling in your eyes, threatening to spill and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice even over the phone. “Can I just skip this one? I tried to start it so many times but I don’t know how to analyze something I can’t even understand.” You choked out.

“Y/n...” You could tell he was thinking of what to do. He probably shouldn’t give you special treatment, and you knew that but right now you hoped he would just give in. Unfortunately you had no such luck. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you just not do it. It would make it too obvious that I’m treating you differently than other students.”

“Then can you at least help me? Or give me more time? Please?” You begged.

“I’m still in my office. I can help you if you meet me here.”

You felt your palms get sweaty and your heart beat faster at the idea of going to his office again after what had happened last time, especially this late at night and in such a fragile state.

“O-okay. I’ll be there in 10. Bye.” You said, hanging up before he could respond.

Quickly you got on some shoes and drove yourself to the building his office was located in. Last time you’d been in there he’d asked you about your feelings for him, and now you had to go back. You told yourself to just focus on getting the essay done, but the thought still hung around in the back of your mind as you walked down the hall towards Baekhyun’s office. You felt jittery and embarrassed, but you needed to do this for your grade.

After taking a few deep breaths to ready yourself, you knocked on the door, and heard a muffled “Come in” from the other side, so you let yourself in. Baekhyun was sitting at his desk, which was covered in papers you assumed he’d been grading. Instead of the nicer clothes he would usually wear during lecture, he was just wearing a black t shirt and sweats now.

“You know you scared the shit out of me when you called. I thought you were in danger or something.” He said to you as you sat down in front of him. “I really didn’t think you’d call me over school work.”

“I’m sorry..”

“It’s okay! I’m not mad or anything, just surprised. What part of the text are you having trouble with?”

“All of it...” You felt your lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry I know this sounds so stupid and you probably think I’m just trying to take advantage of how you like me but I promise it’s not like that.” You said, looking down and fidgeting with your hands, trying to hide the frustration on your face.

Baekhyun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I never said I thought that. I told you it’s not an easy assignment, it’s ok if you’re having trouble. Plato can be difficult especially for people who aren’t used to reading things that old.”

“I should’ve at least started earlier...”

“Probably, but it’s too late to dwell on that now. Let’s just try to go over the reading together, yeah?” You nodded.

He moved his chair to your side of the desk before opening your textbook to the reading for the essay.

“So the first thing that makes The Ring of Gyges so confusing is that you don’t really know who’s talking. Basically it’s a conversation between Plato and his brother Glaucon where they’re discussing justice, and it’s actually Glaucon speaking for most of it, not Plato.”

You were listening to what he was saying of course, but you were still distracted by the proximity. Baekhyun was sitting right next to you now, arms almost touching. The only other time the two of you got that close was at the club. And you did not need to be thinking about that while he was explaining your assignment to you.

“Are you following me so far?”

Your eyes immediately shot up from the book to meet his, and you quickly nodded. Having him look you in the eyes again like that made your face feel hot.

“Glaucon argues that people only peruse justice for the benefits of it, and not because they actually want to be good people. He uses the example of a ring that grants it’s user invisibility, therefore allowing them to do unjust things like steal without being caught. He tells Plato a story about a man who finds such a ring and uses it do overthrow the king.”

You groaned. “It still doesn’t make sense though, what does some story about a stupid ring have to do with justice?”

“Well, if you were given the ability to steal and deceive people for your own benefit, without ever having to worry about getting caught, wouldn’t you do it too?” You stayed silent. “Basically, what you need to understand is what Glaucon is arguing. He’s saying that doing good deeds isn’t a part of human nature, and everyone would behave unjustly if they knew they would never get caught. Therefore, justice is something people pursue not out of want, but out of fear of the consequences if they don’t.”

All you could do was stare at him. It was infuriating how attractive he sounded while explaining it to you.

“Do you have a bit of a better idea what to write about now? Remember it’s only two pages, so don’t stress too much.”

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. “Yeah, it makes a bit more sense now... do I still need to finish it tonight or?”

“Friday. Just email it to me by midnight on Friday and I won’t count it late.” He said, smiling again.

“Thank you for doing this, I’m sorry it was so late and everything.”

Baekhyun just chucked, “You know if it’s you I don’t mind. You could keep me here all night with questions and I wouldn’t stop you. But you understand now, right?”

The way he was smiling at you now along with the closeness was making you slightly dizzy.

“I think so, Glaucon is basically saying that injustice is better than justice then right? Because everyone would do unjust things if they’d always get away with it.”

Baekhyun nodded.

“So according to him the best way to live life would be to do things you know are wrong, but without being caught.”

“Exactly. See, I knew you were smart, y/n.” A smirk had made its way onto his face as he spoke.

You couldn’t help connecting what he was saying to what you were feeling inside towards him. You wanted him, and you knew it was wrong, but how could you deny it to yourself when it felt so right?

“Baekhyun...” You asked, hesitantly. “D-do you think it’s okay to do things you know are wrong, as long as no one finds out?”

“I think it depends what you’re talking about.” He answered, now looking you in the eyes again with intensity. “I would never kill anyone, for any reason, even if I knew I could get away with it. But, if I really wanted something, I think I would take it.”

You were hyperaware of how his eyes were now scanning your face, lingering on your lips. “Take what?”

A hand made contact with your thigh, slowly moving up until he stopped, right below the hem of your shorts. His thumb drew soft circles on the sensitive inner flesh, giving you goosebumps.

“I know you feel it too, you want this, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, now moving a stand of hair out of your face. He let his hand rest on the back of your neck, keeping you facing towards him.

Your heart felt like it was about to short circuit from how fast it was beating. Your palms were sweaty and you could feel yourself shaking slightly. The way his thumb stroked your neck beneath your ear made you shiver, and you knew he saw. All you could do was stare back at him, dumbfounded. Any words you tried to get out stuck in your throat. He was right, you did want it. Now more than ever.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now. I dare you.” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip, eyes fixed on how it trembled beneath his touch. He was slowly moving your face closer his, but you didn’t stop him.

Your silence told Baekhyun all he needed to know, and his lips quickly found yours. Immediately you let yourself melt into the kiss. You felt your whole body buzzing, finally getting what it had wanted for so long. His lips felt unbelievably soft against yours, moving in a slow rhythm as his other hand came up from your thigh to cup your face as well. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, letting it become messier and more desperate.

“I like you” you pulled away just enough to whisper “so fucking much.” You felt him grin into the kiss as your lips met again.

He tasted like strawberries, and you felt high as your lips kept crashing together with more and more need. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire and simultaneously dunked in an ice bath, every nerve vibrating with want.

When Baekhyun pulled your bottom lip gently between his teeth you let out a soft moan, and he started to lose it. He broke the kiss, standing up and pulling with him, before backing you up against the wall, a hand on either side of your head.

“Sweetheart, don’t push me” He breathed, and started peppering kisses along the side of your neck, from under your ear down to your collarbone, sucking and biting on the way.

Trapped between him and the wall, you felt weak and breathless. Your brain was in overdrive and you gasped at his ministrations, hands burying themselves in his soft hair. His hands had traveled down to your waist, holding you against him tightly.

“Baekhyun” You breathed out, rubbing your thighs together as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, y/n. Don’t say that.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth.

His body pressed you into the wall, and your arms wrapped around him pulling him into you even tighter. He was completely consuming your senses and your knees felt wobbly from the intensity of it all. He was already smothering your entire front, but you tried to pull him even closer regardless.

You felt something hard press into your hip as his mouth covered yours again, and this time you shamelessly moaned his name into his open mouth.

Much to your disappointment, Baekhyun immediately detatched himself from you, backing up until his back hit the opposite wall of the office. You could see how turned on he was by the outline of his dick through his pants and the pained look in his face.

“Fucking christ...” He said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. You just watched from the other side of the room. He kept his eyes closed and you observed as his jaw clenched and unclenched before you heard him continue. “You have to go. If you don’t I’m gonna fuck you on my desk and I won’t be gentle.”

Your throat went dry at his crude words, but you couldn’t deny your own arousal. You walked back towards him, reaching out to touch his chest which was now rising and falling rapidly, but he grabbed you before you could make contact. His grip on your wrist was so tight it was almost painful. His knuckles were white, and you could see a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face.

His eyes bore into your own with a stare that warned you not to try anything more.

“I’m sorry y/n but you have to leave. Not tonight. Not like this.” With his free hand he grabbed your belongings off his desk, shoving them into your arms.

Still speechless, he opened the door and pulled you outside before going back in and closing the door behind him. You stood and stared at his office door for a minute, recollecting yourself and processing what the hell had just happened.

Eventually your shaky legs began making their way down the hallway, back towards your car. You were pretty sure a janitor saw you as you turned the corner just down the hall from Baekhyun’s office. You kept your head down, trying to hide your face best you could while hurrying past.

Once you were sitting in your car, you slumped into the seat, mind still in a daze after what happened in Baekhyun’s office. You waited for your breathing and heartrate to slow down before you drove away.

Baekhyun left shorty after you as well, unable to concentrate on anything but the sound of you moaning his name. He felt terrible for throwing you out of his office but he’d meant what he said. He didn’t want his first time to have you to be in his office, purely fueled by pent up lust. He wanted to give you more than that.

More than anything, he just couldn’t believe he’d gotten what he’d wanted for the entire summer. It didn’t seem possible, but now it had happened. And you actually kissed him back. It felt too good to be true. He felt himself once again struggling to sleep, but this time because he was too excited. This time, he didn’t have to keep himself up wondering, he knew he had you. He just couldn’t wait to see what would happed now.

You on the other hand couldn’t stop worrying about that exact thing as you stared at the ceiling above your bed. What would happen now? The thoughts weren’t fearful anymore, there was just too many of them to shut your mind down enough to sleep.

You’d finally allowed yourself to give into him, and there was no more turning back.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut

285 notes · View notes