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drewsbuzzcut · 8 months

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You Did A Number On Me

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: none that i can think of except for some minor angst

The whole week Dallas is running frantic. All her friends, and her siblings, are secretly worried about her, but they don’t bring it to her attention.

Since the night Nick dropped her off at her dorm room and promised to see her that next Friday, she hasn’t thought about anything else. It’s been fleeting thoughts of classes and schoolwork, and lingering thoughts of her upcoming date. She thought about outfit choices repeatedly, each day getting more and more frustrated when she didn’t come out with an outfit. To be fair, she didn’t even know what Nick was planning for Friday, although they’ve been texting nonstop. Honestly, that’s what’s been keeping her half sane, texting day in and day out, except when he has hockey practice.

Now, it’s Friday and Dallas still has no idea what to wear. She’s been trying to text Nick to see if he’ll give her any hints, but her texts remain unanswered.

“Sienna!!! I have no idea what to wear and I have no idea what our date even consists of,” the girl stresses to her roommate.

“Babe, I love you, but you have to take a deep breath. Just wear something casual and maybe try to refrain from something warm so he can give you his sweater,” Sienna advises.

“He hasn’t answered my texts and he’s supposed to pick me up in 20 minutes,” Dallas mutters.

“He’ll be here.”

20 minutes pass and Nick is a no show. Dallas almost wants to laugh, but she chooses to be stoic.

“Hey, Sienna, I think I’m gonna go to the studio for a while,” Dallas says, tying her hair and picking up her bag that holds her ballet things. Ballet has been a very resourceful outlet for Dallas.

“Want me to go with you?”

“No, I want to be alone,” Dallas says, not wanting her roommate to pity her.

Tears want to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn’t let herself, too embarrassed about the way she’s feeling on the inside. She hates that she thought she could actually date an athlete.

As Dallas is passing by the library, she stops in her tracks, almost shocked to death at the sight in front of her. Coming out of the library’s entrance is Nick and another girl, laughing as if they’re the funniest people in the world. She’s not sure if she should catch up to them, or scream, or turn around and act like everything is perfectly fine.

She waits until they part ways, scaring Nick when she walks up to him.

“Am I that forgettable?” She opens with her first thought. Nick jumps, not realizing anyone was next to him.

“You can’t just sneak up on me!” He says with a small chuckle, his wide smile falling when he sees Dallas’ angry face.

“I should’ve known you weren’t serious,” the girl mutters, flipping back her bangs that are getting in her face. She definitely should’ve pinned them back when she was tying her hair.

“What’re you talking about?” He asks, becoming more confused when she doesn’t answer and just keeps walking.

“June!?” He calls out against her silence.

“Do not call me that,” she blurts out, turning around to face his bewildered expression.

During the week while they were texting, Dallas had told him about her real first name. Nick was quick to compliment the name, stating that he loved it and wanted to be the only one to call her that, and well, she caved.

“What’s wrong?” He stops his walking, trying to reach out for Dallas, but she moves away from him.

“What’s wrong? Well let’s see, we had a date planned for today at 5. You weren’t answering your texts, so I was bothered. Then, I was worried about why you weren’t showing up. However, I realized that you just decided to stand me up. As I’m headed somewhere, I see you walk out the library with some girl. You should’ve just told me that you weren’t serious about me. God! I’m so stupid for trusting someone like you,” she rants, eyes wide and lips trembling.

“Shit. Shit, I’m so sorry. My phone died after morning practice, and I fell asleep when I got back and then I remembered I had a tutoring session. Time just slipped, I swear,” he tries to explain.

“A tutoring session? This early in the year? Ever heard of a phone charger?” She yells.

“I sometimes have trouble in English, so I wanted a tutor to make sure I stay on top of things especially when we start to travel for games. I’m sorry I didn’t text you and I’m sorry I stood you up,” he finishes, looking crestfallen, not that Dallas notices.

“Whatever. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into,” she says, turning around to walk away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that my brother is a hockey player. It means that I’ve been around hockey and hockey players almost all of my life. I know how you work; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’m not worth remembering and you don’t care about me,” Dallas whispers, quickly whipping away a tear before walking away.

She hears his footsteps haul after her, she just about cries out in frustration when she feels his hands grab onto her in one last attempt.

“That’s not true. Yes, I did forget when I shouldn’t have. You have to understand that I’ve come so close to losing hockey so many times, I can’t risk anything that’ll take it away from me. That means a shit ton of tutoring sessions, but I do care about you. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here right now, dead tired, trying to get you to see that.” Nick exasperates.

“But you see, that’s a lie! You wouldn’t have even thought of me, or thought to tell me if I hadn’t even approached you tonight. You wouldn’t have remembered until you charged your phone, if it even was dead,” Dallas exasperates, quite literally on the verge of screaming.

Nick stays quiet. His eyes are wide and they’re trying to plead with the girl, but it’s to no avail.

“Just focus on hockey and let’s forget about whatever we were about to start.” Dallas walks away, ignoring Nick repeatedly calling out for her.

“Would you please just give me the benefit of the doubt?” Nick asks, not giving up.

“Would you just leave me alone!?” She spits back.

“No! Not until you give me another chance. Be mad at me, just let me make it up to you,” he tries to reason with the stubborn girl.

“So you can forget again and we’ll just keep going in circles until we’re both tired?”

“How can you be so mad over me attending tutorials?” Nick asks, face turning red and his veins starting to pop out.

“How dare you think that’s why I’m bothered. It has nothing to do with you being tutored. I’m glad you’re being responsible. This is about the lack of decency you had in regard to me. No text or thought of me! If your phone was dead and you didn’t get a chance to charge it, why not come to me and tell me in person? You’re just making excuses to cover the fact that you forgot. Well guess what Nick, I know you forgot and as much as it sucks, I should’ve known better,” Dallas corrects him, spewing out the reason she is so bothered.

“Dallas, please. Please just give me another shot. You’re right! I’m an asshole for forgetting about our plans. I’m sorry and I can tell you that a million times, but it still won’t be much. Please let me take you on a makeup date.”

“I don’t want to go on a date with you,” she finishes, chest heaving and eyes glazed over with disappointment, and finally getting to walk away without Nick running after her.

The days pass and Dallas has not allowed herself time to mope around. Everything has been go, go, go, which is why she didn’t even realize Sienna’s plan. Dallas is so focused on school and her social life that when she’s standing in front of Yost arena, everything comes crashing down. She’s stumbling over her words, trying to free her wrist from Sienna’s grip, and on the verge of screaming. She’s been wanting to scream a lot lately.

“Sienna, what the hell are we doing here?”

“I think you’re doing more harm to yourself than actually protecting, by avoiding Nick. I think you should give him another chance. Just accept the fact that your ego was bruised by him. He made a mistake just like the one you’re making right now. We’re watching the game and you’re going to talk to him afterwards,” Sienna explains, knowing damn well that Dallas is stubborn.

“No! I’m not going in there. I’m not talking to him and you’re not forcing me to stay!” Dallas complains, almost stomping her foot like a child.

Sienna gives Dallas a devilish smirk and 10 minutes later they’re both sitting in the cold of the arena.

“I think one day, maybe on your wedding day, you’ll thank me for forcing you to stay,” Sienna speaks out, disturbing Dallas’ angry silence.

“My ego is not bruised,” Dallas says, but even she knows that it’s a lie.

“Stop lying to yourself. It’s okay that your ego was bruised, but just stop lying to yourself.”

With every minute that passes, Dallas finds herself getting more and more into the game, subconsciously gazing around to find #9 on the ice. She even cheers when Nick scores, even if it’s an exhibition game, she thinks it’s fine to be happy for him.

Dallas finds that hockey is actually pretty interesting, and worth watching later down the line. She hopes that things with Nick will work out, but she hates to admit it to herself. She hates that her ego was bruised. She hates how Nick has such an intense affect on her without even knowing each other for too long.

“I’m going to wait outside, but you can head back. I don’t know how long this will take,” the girl tells Sienna, feeling and looking nervous.

“Are you sure?”

Dallas just nods her head, saving her will to speak for when she sees Nick.

“Okay. If you need me, just call. Good luck, babe. Everything will be just fine,” with that, Sienna leaves the girl to stand outside the arena.

The girl fidgets and paces around, quietly going over the possible things she can say. Dallas actually almost misses the moment Nick exits the doors as she was facing away from the direction he was going.

She sees him walking in sweatpants and a hoodie, not usual attire for a party that she knows is going down due to their win.

“Not going to the party?” She calls out, watching Nick quickly turn around.

He watched her, almost stunned that she’s there. His mouth opens and closes, he didn’t know if he should grovel or just be casual.

“I’m not in a party mood,” he decides to say.

“I saw your goal,” the girl whispers, walking up to him.

“Oh,” Nick mutters, still not knowing what to say. The last time he saw the girl, she was really upset with him.

“You played well. You deserve to go to a party,” she says.

“Thanks, but like I said, I don’t feel like going to a party. I’m tired, so see you around,” this time he’s the one to walk away.

“That’s all?” She half yells, arms raising and falling at her sides.

“What do you want me to say, Dallas? The last time we talked, you told me to leave you alone. Now, you’re here talking to me, and I don't know if you'll be mad if I actually respond to you,” he explains, watching the girl cringe when he calls her “Dallas.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll just go,” she says dejectedly.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

“It’s not important.”

“It obviously is, or you wouldn’t be here if you were really ignoring me,” Nick responds.

“I’m mad at you,” she points out the obvious.

“I know. Is that all?”

“Yup.” She watches him, daring him to say something that can get her to crack.

He just nods his head and continues his walk away from Yost arena.

Dallas fights with herself, knowing she should be honest with the way she feels, but hating that she’s the one who’s vulnerable. Before she can chicken out, she quickly walks to Nick, tugging on his arm to get him to turn around. He’s about to speak when Dallas wraps a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face down to hers and connecting their lips. His body almost falls back at the impact of her body slamming into him, but he quickly balances himself by grabbing onto her hips.

The kiss is cautious at the start, but when Nick pulls her body closer to his, her hands card through his hair, pulling on the strands, and the kiss hardens. Her action makes Nick pull away, not because he didn’t like it, but because he likes it a little too much. She rests her forehead on his chest, her breathing heavy and her hands gripping onto his hoodie.

“I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you hurt my ego by forgetting about our date. I also don’t want you to leave me alone,” she says truthfully, staring into his eyes and caressing his cheek.

“Will you please let me reschedule our date?”

Dallas immediately nods her head.

“Good. Can I call you June again?”

“You better. Also, I can tutor you,” Dallas answers, kissing his lips again before it’s interrupted by Nick’s cute giggle. He playfully salutes at the girl, knowing he’ll do anything she asks.

a/n: Second part!!! Hope y’all enjoy!

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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f1nalgirlz · 7 months

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Charlie’s so hot | Charlie Walker II

part 1

“Are you in love like we were? If i were you I’d probably keep her…” (FLETCHER- Becky’s so hot)

premise: you had a messy breakup with your ex boyfriend, but now you can’t get his new boyfriend (Charlie Walker) out of your mind. What happens when he confronts you about you lingering around him?

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ still fast paced -> kinda unrealistic my b, cheating (again((sorry lmao)), nsfw, no penetration rn (sorry?), whiny Charlie, handjob (Charlie receiving), kinda OOC Charlie forgive me

˗ˏˋcontent´ˎ˗ mlm relationships, gay Charlie Walker, male reader, male anatomy, confident reader

“Why’re you stalking me?” Came a monotone voice from behind you as you walked down a back alleyway to get back to your dorm, making you jump slightly. You could recognize the voice and it made your heart speed up as you turned to face Charlie. “Stalking you? I wasn’t aware having a few classes together was stalking… besides you’re aware that you’re the one who cornered me in a dark alley right?” You replied, fully facing him now. You tried to keep calm, but honestly your attraction had grown into a full blown crush now. “You know what I mean,” he said and rolled his eyes. “I always catch you staring at me. Do you have a problem with me because I’m with (ex name) or something?” He asked, crossing his arms that were covered with checkered flannel sleeves. You stared at him for a minute, taking in his appearance, under the unbuttoned flannel was that same shirt, your ex’s shirt. “I don’t have a problem with you, Charlie. I honestly don’t care that you’re with him.” You said sounding exasperated, you weren’t expecting this type of confrontation from him. Especially because as this week had went on you’d caught him staring back, even feeling his blue eyes burning into you when you weren’t looking at him. It wasn’t like your ex had been the best boyfriend anyways, the last thing you’d want is to be back with him, despite the petty jealousy you’d experienced at first.

His face scrunched up and he furrowed his eyebrows. He was thinking about what he wanted to say next, but honestly he didn’t know where to start. Your arms crossed over your chest and you swayed just slightly waiting for his words to come, but they didn’t. “Look… it’s cold and i was headed home anyways, do you just wanna sort this out back at my place?” You said, sucking a breath in through your teeth expecting a no, but you were pleasantly surprised when he nodded slowly. You nodded back and began leading him the rest of the way to your building, rushing into your room to escape the cold. When you were both inside you closed the door behind you, kicking your shoes off. “Make yourself at home.” You said while pulling your jacket off. Charlie sat down on the bottom corner of your bed, his eyes trained on you the whole time. “Charlie i haven’t been staring because I’m jealous… well i am.” You said, laughing a little when you corrected yourself, sitting down beside him. His body stiffened.

“You’re jealous of me? Your breakup was mutual. Why?” Charlie said, looking at you with his eyebrows knitted together. “No. I’m jealous of him,” you said, looking at the brunette who was so close it made your heart pound. “He got to you first.” You said, smiling a little at how ironic it was that you hadn’t even met Charlie before he was dating your ex. You could see the pale skin on his cheeks turning pink, then red, as you spoke. His lips pursed as he debated his words, deciding on a simple “oh.” Slowly he broke out into a smile, licking his lips before looking at you. “I uh… I was kind of hoping it was that instead of you hating me.” He said, biting his lip to contain his smile, causing you to nod. Slowly, your hand made its way to rest on his jean covered thigh. “So you were hoping that I thought you were hot?” You asked, voice teasing as a smirk worked it’s way onto your lips. He stuttered trying to find the right words but he ended up shaking his head, embarrassed. “I guess you could say that.” He said. Every moment that passed, the two of you were inching closer, your leg already pressed flat against his. When you felt his messy hair brushing against your face, you took it as an opportunity to press your lips together with his, your hand making it’s way to his hip.

You were a little nervous you’d overstepped, until you felt his lips moving against your own and his hands grabbing at your waist, then moving up to cup your burning cheeks. This was so much better than you’d imagined, and trust, you’d thought of just about every scenario there was to be dreamt up. As your chapped lips moved against his surprisingly soft ones, the kiss became sloppy, the two of you grabbing at each other breathlessly. Shaky fingers tore off the checkered flannel, fumbling awkwardly with the button on his jeans next. Charlie’s lips caught your own again quickly, his hands gripping your cheeks, like he couldn’t bare keeping his hands to himself. You chuckled into his mouth, grabbing his hips and moving him to lie flat on his back. You hovered over him, taking in his features again. Pink cheeks and puffy lips from the forceful kisses. You smiled at him as you kissed down his jaw and neck, hands finding their way underneath the t-shirt he had on. Your ex’s vintage t-shirt. You couldn’t lie like this wasn’t giving you some kind of gratification. Your heart sped up once again when you heard Charlie moaning softly, which just drove you to continue.

You slowly began leaving marks on his neck, and he let you. It’s like he forgot he had a boyfriend, or maybe he just didn’t care because he’d much rather be here with you tonight. His hands trailing up your shirt sure made you think so. You dipped your hand into his previously undone pants and smirked, he was already achingly hard. “Oh Charlie…” you teased and his head rolled to the side, clearly embarrassed. You helped him remove his jeans, throwing them somewhere in your slightly messy room before turning your attention back to his throbbing cock. Soon, his lips fell open in a gasp as your hand gripped his length, slowly stroking him. His head rolled side to side slowly, eyes squeezed shut and hip’s gently rolling up into your hand, it was clear he had a problem with your pace. “You want it faster?” You purred, gaining a vigorous nod from him. “Please..” he whined out, voice wavering. You smiled and sped your pace up, causing Charlie’s slender body to writhe underneath you, legs spreading sluttily for you. Your brain was totally fogged up, he just looked so pretty underneath you like this. Legs spread, head leaned back in pleasure, and his mouth agape never holding back a moan or groan. As you continued to pump his length in your hand you noticed a thin layer of sweat coating his body, on his cheeks and the exposed area of his tummy where the shirt had ridden up just above his bellybutton. His lithe fingers grabbed at your bedspread as he moaned, sounding more desperate by the second. When you sped up, using your free hand to hold his hip is when his moans devolved into whines and cries. He looked utterly pathetic under you, and you were loving every minute of it.

“God I’m so close…” came from Charlie when his thighs were trembling almost as much as his voice when he spoke. “Yeah? Cum for me, Char.” You whispered, continuing your motions. A shaky whine filled the room, which devolved into sobs from the brunette as he came, painting his tummy and shirt with white ribbons. His hips bucked into your hand as you let him ride out his high, loving how he looked shaking lightly from pleasure, a few tears having slipped down his cheeks. When you felt he was satisfied you removed your hand, when you did so he was sitting up, catching your lips in a sloppy kiss which you eagerly returned. When the two of you finally got situated again you grabbed your phone, taking a few candids of Charlie, with his permission of course. You smiled as you browsed the photos, he looked so… hot. You looked at one of the pictures you’d taken, his hair was messy, pale neck covered in dark red marks, lips were swollen, and to top it all off there was a pretty obvious cum stain on that shirt. That shirt you knew your ex loved the same one he let you wear around. You smirked as you opened instagram, clicking ‘new post’ only uploading the one picture. The caption? “Charlie’s so hot in your vintage t-shirt :)”

“Makes me wanna hit her when I see her… cause Becky’s so hot in your vintage t-shirt.”

R: please lmk if this was ass. Ofc it’s not proofread yet bc it’s me😟 I’ll fix any mistakes later ok thank you🤭 -> how I was listening to this song while writing btw 🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗

((Based on Becky’s so hot - FLETCHER))

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sylkiddsey · 4 months

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Prompt: “Are you okay?”

Post 7.21

Sylvie has Olivia to blame for this new…feeling she’s developed for Casey. It’s entirely inappropriate and ridiculous, but her friend had to plant the seed.

Before, Sylvie’s never ever looked at Matt that way. He’s freaking Casey. Gabby’s ex husband and the same man she’s known for nearly half a decade. It never even crossed her mind until the stupid double date she set up.

Olivia was supposed to be the one crushing (or at least feeling) on Matt Casey. Not her. She thought they’d be a perfect pair, but turns out she just set up the worst turn of events in history.

If she’s dishing out blame, a little of it has to go to Matt. Yes, Olivia did plant the idea, but she didn’t buy it right away. She thought her friend was crazy, but then Matt started looking at her.

He’s holding eye contact longer and lingering and he’s not making it easy to bury whatever this feeling is. Something feels like it shifted on his end, but she’s probably reaching. She’s probably inventing a ridiculous narrative and there is nothing there.

There’s nothing there. It’s merely a pique per se. It’ll go away as soon as it blossomed and life will be okay.

Until then, she’s made a vow to ignore Olivia’s spin class invitations and also avoid Matt.

She thinks that’s how the problem began. It’s true that they’ve been spending one on one time more than ever. The new closeness has simply confused her. If she keeps distance, she can uncross the wires and go back to thinking of Matt as Casey.

He’s just the Captain at 51.

Her plan to dodge him is put on pause because they have unfinished business. When she walks into Molly’s after stalling in her car, Matt’s roman candle burn isn’t bandaged.

That’s not really the issue. She knows it’s been a few days so it’s okay to stop reapplying bandages, but she knows him. He doesn’t take care of himself and she needs one last long look to ensure it’s not infected.

She’s just doing her due diligence as a paramedic. It’s simply work.

Casey looks away from his conversation with Severide, waving her over.

See? Gestures like that make this really really hard.

She inhales a large gust of air and then joins her friends.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you around here in awhile,” Casey comments.

She’s been avoiding him for this very reason. He’s the reason she’s keeping her distance and he noticed. Why did he notice?

No. Nope. She’s sure he’d notice anyone dodging Molly’s. All of 51 is usually there every night.

“Yeah. Just been busy,” she fibs.

Stella dries a glass behind the bar. “What would you like to drink, girl?”

Alcohol is a bad idea. It loosens her lips and she’s not going to get caught blabbing these new developments.

“Uh, just a club soda,” she replies.

Severide wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Are you quitting alcohol or something?”

No, she’s quitting these awkward feelings. She’s so nervous she’s convinced everyone at the bar can read this secret right off her.

She’s going to check Casey’s burn, find Cruz to busy her time and then leave.

“I’m just not feeling it tonight is all.”

Stella hands her the non-alcoholic beverage while chastising her kind of ex-boyfriend.

Foster pops up next to her and she’s convinced this can’t get worse. Of all people, Emily will be able to read her like a damn book.

She needs to leave or at least pull it together. She sips the soda.

Matt frowns a little, watching her every move which again, does not help. He needs to stop caring.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Your hand is shaking.”

Oh my god! She needs to leave. This is humiliating and everyone is going to know if she doesn’t pull herself together.

It’s freaking Matt Casey. She shouldn’t feel this nervous around him.

She diverts the conversation away from her physical symptoms of this new…feeling. “I should probably check your burn one last time to make sure it’s not infected.”

“It’s fine.”

“Casey, let me verify that, please?” She requests. Yes, she wants to ensure he’s fine, but she also wants to bury this whole weird week away. She can’t do that when his injury is still on her mind.

He complies and rotates on the stool so she has a full view. She barely inches forward and doesn’t make any attempt to touch the skin around his pulse point this time. She only needs visual confirmation.

It should be quick and easy, but it’s not.

Foster knocks her hip into hers. She’s half convinced her ambo partner somehow knows and it’s an intentional act because the momentum shoves her right into Matt.

She stumbles in between his legs, hands pressed between their chests. She’s bracketed between his thighs and blushing harder than she ever has when his hand lands on the small of her back.

The universe is so cruel.

She blinks hard, swallowing the lump in her throat. She thought the intense eye contact in the bunk room was bad, but now she’s millimeters away from his face.

Everyone in the bar has to know by now that she’s crushing (or whatever) on him. In any other instance, she’d find this situation awkward, sure, but not like this. Normally, she’d pull away with a laugh and a joke, but she’s paralyzed against him.

She expects several different pairs of eyes on them, but Matt’s the only one looking at her.

He laughs a little. “Woah, you okay?”

No. No. No. She’s not. Something has changed and she’s not okay.

She has to go. She can’t stay wrapped in his arm another second even if the tiny, deranged part of her wants to.

Sylvie tries to step away casually, but she reels back so hard that she smacks into Severide who is now between her and Foster.

“Geez, Brett,” he comments.

“S-Sorry,” she stutters. She averts her eyes away from Matt who is still looking at her curiously. “I gotta go talk to Cruz about you know, room dog stuff. I’ll catch you all later.”

With that pathetic lie, she snags her glass and beelines towards where Cruz and Chloe are sitting in the back.

She’ll make a fake conversation so no one at the bar thinks she lied and then leave.

She’s doubling her efforts to avoid Matt.

#brettsey #based on a prompt #prompts #sylkiddsey prompts #Pre canon owns me #this is a very old snippet from a longer work I scrapped

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welcometojackass2022 · 9 months

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love when he simps for me in very subtle ways. one night I was messing around with his fingers and playing with his hands and I made a passing remark about painting his fingernails and he INSTANTLY was like “you could if you wanted to” while making full eye contact even though he’s never worn anything like that and dresses VERY casually. The night I got close to his face to look at his eyes he immediately got all flustered and giggly even though it was his idea. That same night, he was showing me something on his phone and I accidentally touched his hands while I was trying to hold the phone and he let his hands linger there for like 20 seconds before pulling away. We go out ANYWHERE together and this man who is SO smart and usually SO casually confident will say or do something so dumb when ordering food or asking for directions and then subtly peek over his shoulder to make sure I didn’t notice (sorry sweetie, I DID see you try to insert your debit card into the chip reader on the side without a chip).

Anytime we hang out together he stares at me the whole time, and when we randomly see each other around campus he immediately stops to talk to me even though he’s usually in a rush and he gets this big goofy grin and doesn’t take his eyes off me for a single second while we talk and then keeps looking back to add more to the conversation even while I’m walking away. He gets more visibly nervous around me than anyone else I’ve ever seen. If I mention a preference I have (not liking certain cars, not liking men who use 5-in-1) he’ll immediately ask for clarification to see if he fits my preference or not, and once took me over to his car and gave me a full tour and asked what I thought in terms of “vibes”. He laughs louder at my jokes than anyone else even though half the time they’re not that funny, and he tries to make me laugh so much even though when I met him he wasn’t particularly funny or comedic. He stands very close to me when we talk and isn’t afraid to talk loudly, like he doesn’t care if everyone hears the way we talk to each other.

Whenever we hug, he puts down whatever he’s holding and hugs me SO tight, and if he’s the one initiating it he asks for permission first. He always lingers at the end of conversations and never lets me go without saying goodnight. Once I caught him staring at me with a smile on his face for like 15 seconds when he thought I couldn’t see him. I wear a skirt and he short-circuits and acts even more nervous than usual. He asks me about insects a lot even though he doesn’t like them because he knows I love them and love to talk about them, and he points them out whenever he sees them so I can go over and look. He once told me he thought I was an entomologist at heart and it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said :) he always asks me how my day is going and actually wants to know, and he remembers literally EVERY detail I have ever told him, even old stories. He gets excited to show that he remembers this stuff too. He wants me to know he remembers.

He also rearranges his extremely busy schedule for me in a way he never does for anyone else. He’ll have a meeting or a class he REALLY needs to get but will stop to talk to me for so long that I have to TELL him to go so he won’t be late and get in trouble. He usually goes to bed quite early and has early classes but has hung out with me until 1am completely of his own volition just because he wanted to. He barely ever has free time cuz he’s always working or studying or at meetings but if I ask him to get dinner with me he drops everything to come, even if I tell him it’s fine if he’s too busy, and whenever he has to reschedule, he always reschedules for the very next day cuz he genuinely wants to see me. He doesn’t have social media and doesn’t like texting much but tries to respond to my texts right away, even when he’s busy, and always at least leaves a heart on my text if he can’t do anything else. If anything good happens in his life, he immediately tells me about it. Anything bad? Still immediately tells me about it. I’ve never had a boy confide in me this much, it’s so fucking sweet.

Also he gets so concerned about my health and safety that it’s actually adorable. I lost my pepper spray and he made me take his before I left his apartment. If I don’t eat much when we’re out he gets concerned and asks me to try and eat a little more. He’s told me straight up he wants me to cause as much pain as possible to any guy that tries to assault me. He sent me pictures of his adorable dogs to make me feel better when I got sick over the summer, and sends me dog pics in general cuz he knows I love his dogs. And when I got to meet them he was so sweet and was showing me all their favorite toys and kept telling them to be gentle with me in the cutest voice EVER and got a cute picture of me with one of his dogs in his lap and it was the first picture he’s taken of me and I KNOW he kept it :)))

Also the other night we hung out in a public space til 1am and had SO MANY people pass by us and yell about how cute we were or ask if we were on a date and he never denied it or got mad, just giggled and got flustered like I did. Fuck I love this boy. This cannot be platonic, right??? He’s gotta like me too, right??

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chemicalpink · 2 years

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Workout Circuit JJK

ᨒ Staff: Jeon Jungkook

ᨒ Accommodation: Suite

ᨒ Pairing: reader x jeon jungkook

ᨒ Word Count: 1.5k

ᨒ Genre: smut, strangers to lovers

ᨒ Rating: 18+

ᨒ Warnings: blowjob, fingering, a bit of good old voyeurism,

ᨒ Summary: Bangtan Resort’s private trainer is perhaps way too good looking for his own good.

ᨒ A/N: Consent is sexy, I am kinda ehh about S2l so I had to find a way this whole ordeal didn’t sound like a cheap pwp. If you’d like to be a part of my taglist for my next works on this series, you can send me an ask or fill this form!

ᨒ Taglist: @Salobsalai @iamextremelytired @namjoonswaifu @Qualla @snameful @viv134340 @minimonibabie @plutoneu

Bangtan Resort Masterlist

It’s obnoxious really, the stereotypical way it all seems to take form– the dimmed lights, the whole place barely illuminated by the soft purple gleam all around, bleeding into the walls as faintly as possible yet somehow illuminating enough, some random techno beat that somehow manages to be kept within the gym’s walls while making it seem too close for comfort to a club.

There’s a crowd of people taking the centre of the place, equipment long forgotten as they all seem mesmerised by the single person that’s in the middle of the ordeal– tall muscled guy around his mid twenties, long hair hitting the back of his head everytime he moves around, his posture nothing short of perfect as he punches air, mic resting on top of his lips as he shouts some random instruction for everyone else to follow. You’re not even sure yourself you’d know what to do when being thrown the words uppercut, jab, counterpuncher in the same sentence, except for understanding the way everyone’s eyes are glued to the man demonstrating them. And really, the beads of sweat rolling down the guy’s barely covered pecs shouldn’t be as attractive as they are. They should definitely turn the AC up a notch.

Perhaps walking around the place first thing after arriving to the resort and deciding upon initiating yourself at the gym hadn’t been the brightest idea.

A personal trainer had indeed sounded like a dream half an hour ago at the front desk, now– not so much. There doesn’t seem to be another trainer except for the guy leading whatever cardio-boxing-combination there’s going on, so best you could do is wait around until something more interesting happens. Could anyone blame you really, if your eyes linger a tad longer on the way the man’s body works seamlessly? Strong hips, perfect coordination, muscles all ripped in the way he builds up his pace, eyes set forward, thoroughly enjoying himself. The drooling faces from his students all seem to be a bonus.

It isn’t until a few minutes later, too intrigued in watching him teach his class from a comfortable distance, his eyes roaming around the room until they cross yours, step faltering,voice stuttering on his mic, having to do a double take before he’s quick to move to cooldown and dismiss his class.

You can’t but recite ‘act natural’ over and over again inside your head as he approaches you. Deep down you should probably find it gross, the way his feeble shirt is drenched in sweat, yet you can’t help but add onto your mental list of things that make him even more attractive up close “Hey- Y/N, right?”

“Yeah”

“Yeah- my boss mentioned you were coming, so sorry for taking so long, personal training customers usually come by after eight” he keeps his voice with a professional tone; quite a contrast to the way his eyes roam over your body.

You can feel yourself blush, embarrassed at having him cut his scheduled class short “Oh I- I didn’t know, sorry”

“Oh tha’s fine, I’m here to accommodate you! We can totally start at” he takes a look at his smart watch, damp hair covering his eyes before he turns his full attention towards you once again “7:55, if you prefer to”

He’s bickering, you know as much, but you can’t help but feeling a tad guilty at having him dismiss his class early- even if it was just cut 5 minutes short. He settles for smiling down at you, noticing the way his cute bunny teeth are put on display, a complete contrast to the rest of his physique and the way he seems to prefer carrying himself around.

He clears his throat in an attempt to regain back his professionalism “So- do you have something in mind? A routine from back home?”

“I- I really don’t, I just thought this would be a nice start for some healthier habits”

“That’s great! A newbie just for myself” You can’t help but feel yourself run hotter by the second, feeling a different sort of gleam glow from his words as he guides you with a hand on the small of your back towards a more secluded area of the gym “We should wait until everyone filters out so we can have the whole gym for ourselves”

Jungkook– as you have come to know the trainer’s name is, is pretty swift in making you feel comfortable around the place, showing you different set ups along with brief explanations and suggestions. The man clearly knows his stuff, if the muscles weren’t enough to go by already. He’s quirky in an endearing sort of way, making sure to take his role seriously as he settles you for a smooth routine as everyone else filters out of the place.

The obnoxious music is still softly playing through the speakers around the gym, volume down due to you two being the only ones left, sounds echoing around enough, the night is prominent as the soft moonlight comes from the south window, mixing with the purple lights inside.

Jungkook’s hands always seemed to linger around your hips, some lame excuse around it that you welcome as you smirk at the handsome man through the mirror reflection, welcoming the heat the seemingly naive body press brings as he adjusts the dumbbell in your hands, your ass against his loose short–a bit of wiggle in there is enough to hear his sharp breath intake, dwelling a bit more than necessary in it, enough to have you pushing some more of his buttons.

Jungkook sits on a bench placed in the middle of the gym, both muscled thighs stretched around the length of the leather furniture, his hands gesturing you to sit beside him. You can’t help the way your mind races at every possibility– or just the fact that you’d get to play around for a bit with such a gorgeous man, your panties wetting under your clothes. The whole encounter quieting your dazy mind as the trainer is clearly on the same page as you, body pressed snuggly behind you, clothed cock pressing against you as you both move in tandem– you’re not een sure you’re following his instructions, or even if he is giving out any, as one of his hands travels down your middle, firm grasp on your lower belly, the other one coming up snuggled in between your breasts, his lips pressed against the back of your neck.

“A-ah Jungkook, just please touch me”

His hand is teasing the band of your workout clothes at your words, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice “Had such a special treatment in mind with a private lesson, Y/N?”

“It’s- It would certainly be a bonus” you voice is airy, as you try not to pry his hand away and down your pants yourself, he seems thoroughly entertained by the ordeal.

“I need to know I was not just imagining things when you walked up to me and booked your lessons back at the front desk, Y/N” his stern tone is enough to bring you back for enough seconds to compose yourself and nod enthusiastically, fairly aware of your whole plan coming here “Words, Y/N”

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun, if you were up to it” Your words are enough of an answer for him as he is quick to sneak his hand under your clothes, weird angle and all, calloused fingers teasing your already wet folds, a ragged moan escaping your lips as he is quick to find your clit and caress it.

“Yeah?” his teeth graze the back of your ear, enough to have you gushing, his fingers quickly finding a better pace that has you pressing your back further against him “Wanted me to fuck you with my fingers, make you come apart like this right in the middle of the gym? Huh? Where anyone could easily walk in?”

“Oh god- Jungkook p-please”

Two of his fingers are working you open as his thumb continues on circling your bud, walls clenching at his ministrations “Wanted me to keep on fucking you like this, even if someone were to come in? Even if they were to use the equipment, I could just continue to do so, and you would have to keep quiet, huh”

His words are enough to work you rapidly towards an orgasm you deny yourself to have before having Jungkook all to yourself, a surprised noise coming from Jungkook as you are quick to fall onto your knees in front of him, hands tugging his pants and boxers down enough to spring his member free hand coming down to grip him and stroke him completely hard before diving right in, one hand of his on your head, keeping you down enough to lap him up, mouth over a stroking motion of your hand, tongue playing with the slit on the head every time you come up before taking all of his length once again, quick to get him hissing and throwing his head back, yet composed enough to pull you up and right into him, hungry mouth over yours where you’re sure he could taste himself on you.

He makes a quick movement to pull the both of you towards the end of the room and into the showers, a dazed look in his eyes that you can't help but smirk at “Can’t blame me if I want to be selfish and have you all for myself, Y/N”

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

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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

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kaidenya · 3 years

Text

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

#iida x reader #mirio x reader #shigaraki x reader #shinso x reader #tenya x reader #mirio headcanons #iida headcanons #shinso headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #my hero academia #my heado academia headcanons

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

i hate you.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |

requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles and i are shamelessly indulgent

bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over.

Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him.

“Hey, doll.”

You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you.

You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school.

“Checking me out last night, doll?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter.

“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.

“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.

“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!”

“You’re the one screaming.”

“I hate you,” you seethed.

Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing.

This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.

“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.

“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”

Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.

You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was.

Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.

Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.

Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning.

He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.

As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.

You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby.

“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you.

“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.

“You drove here to pick me up?”

Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.

“Okay.”

You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.

“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.

“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”

“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.

“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking.

“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”

“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.

“Just relax, Y/N.”

You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Most say charming.”

You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants.

You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.

“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music.

He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.”

You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.

“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.

“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.”

“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked.

You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.

“Smartass. You still abducted me.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact.

Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves.

Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways.

Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee.

You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad.

You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked.

Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies.

Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.

Bucky adored you.

The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you.

“Hey, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street.

“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street.

Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him.

“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice.

“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble.

“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over.

“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger.

There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.

“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him.

Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.

The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat.

Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him.

Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need.

“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front.

Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you.

He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night.

He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were.

“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you.

“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot.

The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was.

Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation.

Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin.

You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you.

Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair.

“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours.

The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts.

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer.

With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours.

Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car.

Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.

You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss.

“Still hate me, doll?”

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borrovvedyoongi · 3 years

Text

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?”

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target.

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming.

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.”

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs.

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

#sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenario #sunghoon suggestive #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagine

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 4) - Safety Nets

Summary: The reader has her first date with Jensen, a simple dinner at home with him and the kids, but when they get a moment alone, he shares some information about the accident hardly anyone knows. Just as things start to get moving with the pair, Jensen has to head to Canada for filming ahead of schedule but he’s not so sure he can go back to whole weeks away from his family right now...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,200ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mention of injury, depression, anxiety, self-worth problems

A/N: Shopping buddies are the best ;) Please enjoy!

________

“Can I help set the table?” you asked the next evening, Jensen shaking his head at you.

“JJ, can you set the table for me?” asked Jensen. She jumped up from the couch and got out silverware, setting an extra spot for you.

“Y/N, are you and dad on a date?” she asked when she finished up. You looked down from where you leaned back against the counter, Jensen chuckling.

“Yes we are sweetie. If this goes well I’d like to take Y/N out on Friday, maybe you guys can go to Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen’s,” he said.

“You should go out with dad,” said JJ.

“Oh I should?” you said, crossing your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Cause he’s strong and handsome and smart and funny and…” she said, holding up her hand and counting on her hand.

“The hair,” he whispered, a smirk crossing your face.

“Oh and he’s only got a few gray hairs!” she said.

“Oh. Well that is interesting,” you laughed, Jensen smacking himself in the face.

“Great hair, JJ. Not gray. Great,” he said.

“You do have gray whiskers,” she said.

“Like...barely,” he said. “See what I put up with? A few teensy tiny little patches in my beard if it grows out.”

“I don’t know if I can date a man of such frail age,” you said. He cocked his head and you laughed, JJ giggling as she went to get the plates.

“Keep it up you two,” he said. You walked over to him, JJ going past with the plates. “Come to tease some more?”

“I was told you’re quite handsome, thought I’d get a closer look,” you said.

“You can have as close a look as you want,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Calm yourself, Casanova,” you said, reaching up to the cupboard to get another plate for JJ. “Here sweetie.”

“Thanks,�� she said. She set it ran back over, hugging you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

“Good,” she said. You bent down and picked her up, resting her on your hip.

“Where’d you think I was going?” you asked. She shrugged and Jensen stopped stirring the pot.

“I don’t know. Wherever you were before. Dad’s a lot happier since you live with us now,” she said.

“Well taking care of you three is hard all by yourself,” you said. You set her down and patted her head. “Go get your brother and sister for dinner.”

“You’re good with them,” he said, stirring the pot again.

“They’re people. Small people that don’t know half of what adults do but still people. Sometimes you gotta treat ‘em like it. Most of the time actually,” you said.

“I talked to her earlier about this whole situation,” he said.

“Besides listing off all your selling points what’d she think?”

“Well apparently she’s in favor of me asking if you’d marry me tonight,” he said.

“Oh. Shotgun wedding. Simple. I like it,” you laughed. He turned his head and smiled, glancing down for a long moment, slowly returning.

“Why doesn’t this situation scare you? The kids, me who has been all over the place lately, not to mention my job, long distance, the shit you get just for-” he said, your hand covering his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’s not a lot, Jensen. It’s scary. Of course it is. Every single one of my relationships has ended badly for one reason or another. Friendships. Family ones. Romantic ones. You’re handsome and you’re so successful and I’m literally a nanny but you said you wouldn’t hurt me. So I’ll trust that you won’t and you trust I won’t hurt you and it’ll work itself out.”

“That simple huh.”

“I’m easy going. Let’s keep it simple,” you said.

“Simple works,” he said as you pulled the pot off the burner before it bubbled over. “Simple definitely works.”

“This is not a good idea,” you said two hours later, the kids in bed, you and Jensen jumping up and down on the trampoline in the yard.

“Oh most certainly not,” he said, landing near you and sending you up. You yelped and landed back down on your bottom, Jensen bouncing again, sending you up again and laughing this time. “Well that’s a cute sound.”

“Boys. Is it taught somewhere that you gotta tease a girl when you like her?” you asked, Jensen pulling you to your feet and bouncing around lightly.

“Right after manly man class, duh,” he said.

“You would have failed, I can tell you right now,” you said. He scoffed and you shrugged. “That’s kinda a really good thing.”

“That your ex? Tough guy all the time?” he asked.

“Not like, to that extent or anything. I had a bad day and I really needed someone and he let me down. He got mad at me for it actually. He called depression a phase I needed to get over with,” you said. He stopped bouncing and you did the same, glancing down. Next thing you knew he playfully tackled you onto the trampoline, rolling to his side and smiling at you.

“Some of my friends have it. One of my best friends does. Jared. If he ever knocks on the door late at night or whatever, let him in.”

“You take care of everyone in your life it seems,” you said.

“You take care of the people you care about, not insult them. Hopefully the ex figures that out someday.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I don’t do anything anyone else shouldn’t,” he said.

“Maybe that’s it,” you said. “You’re unapologetically good and you don’t even know how rare that is.”

“It takes up too much energy to be angry or mean or cruel. I’d just rather be happy,” he said.

“You got a lot of friends, don’t you.”

“My fair share,” he said.

“How many would you call close?”

“Maybe ten or so.”

“How many real close?”

“Two or three.”

“How many know what really happened that day? Your wife…” you said. He stared at you and swallowed.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because when we met you said she died in an accident but then you said it was her head. You’re holding onto something, something you don’t talk about.”

“She was driving when the aneurysm happened. I was in the car with her. I almost died. It’s seemed easier to lie about that.”

“Who knows?”

“My parents and Jared. They’re the only ones.”

“You ever talk to anyone about it?”

“I went to talk to someone a few times. I’m better now,” he said with a smile. “I don’t share a lot if you may have guessed already. Not to too many people. But you it feels so easy to.”

“Must be special,” you said. He smiled and reached a hand over, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. “That why you like me?”

“There’s a lot of stereotypical reasons to like someone and part of that is true in why you choose someone I suppose. But there’s this other part that when you meet someone that you can’t really explain.”

“I get that. I get all of it. My brain always seems to want to go to the bad scenario first I suppose,” you said. You looked up at the black sky, Jensen toying with another strand between two fingers. “I wish it didn’t do that so much.”

“You’re just trying to protect yourself is all,” he said.

“But I come off as pushy and distant,” you said, turning your head. “Like I’m that person that’s cool with everything being casual.”

“Well think of it like this trampoline. It’s the only thing holding us up right now right?” he asked and you hummed. “Well my life, I’ve had thousands of safety nets below me to catch me when I fall so even if I tore through one, there was more to hold me up while the others got fixed. You never had as many to start and I think more of yours broke and there was no way to fix them in time so you kept tumbling through until you got to the ground.”

“Your point?”

“Maybe some people hit the ground and others never do. But the people who hit the ground, as they go back up they can make the best most solid nets in the world to hold them up. One good net beats a thousand flimsy ones.”

“So at what age do I get the wisdom?” you asked, turning your head and smiling over at him.

“You don’t. My job has made me fall through more nets than I wanted to and this year made me realize I might not have a thousand strong nets at the bottom but I just needed one to get by and now I’m working back up. You’re not even close to being down low either. You’ve already had the hardest part of your life. It’s all up from here.”

You leaned over and he lay back on the trampoline, gazing up at you. You lowered your head as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in close until your lips were touching. Part of your mind was reeling from that in itself but the other half knew that was his first kiss since his wife. You inched back but stayed close, Jensen peeling open his eyes.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Very,” he said. You lay back beside him, Jensen letting you go. His hand reached out for yours though and laced your fingers together. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Wanted to,” you said.

“Cool. I wanted to kiss you too,” he said.

“Alright then.” You stared upwards, the trampoline shifting again. He popped into view propped up on one arm, your head turning slightly. He was flush, even in the dim light. He moved slowly but you let him come to you, a barely there gentle kiss that lingered, a thousand gears going in your head, likely a thousand more going off in his.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly as he pulled back a few inches. Your fingers carded through his hair and he smiled. “I’ll get the hang of this again. I promise.”

“That was more than enough for one night,” you said. “We said slow and we’ll go slow, okay?”

“Sounds good with me.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N, can I have a word with you in my office?” asked Jensen as you were picking up after dinner. You hummed and put the last fork in the dishwasher before following him down to a quieter part of the house. He shut the door behind you and he ran his hand over his face. “This is about work, my work, but it’s going to involve you. Heavily.”

“What’s up?” you asked, taking a seat in a chair. He sat in his by his desk, scrunching up his face.

“My job with that TV show, The Boys, it films in Canada. I’m gonna need to be up there four, maybe five months. The way things used to work with my wife was I would fly back home every weekend or every other weekend. I never went more than 2 weeks seeing the kids. I don’t have to film every day but it’s easier to stay there for the week. But it’s...it’s difficult for me. It’s difficult for them and...they lost one parent this year. I can’t stay away that long for months. I just can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” you said.

“I’d like to temporarily move to Canada while I film. No flying back and forth. The kids can see me everyday and I can see them. JJ’s school still offers remote learning and I’m homeschool certified in a pinch. Twins can do daycare easy. The only issue I have is the same one I originally did. I still need a nanny. Only now in a different country...and it’s gonna be more late nights on the regular.”

“I see,” you said.

“This isn’t what you signed up for so if you don’t want it, that’s okay. I can find a nanny up there and we can try long distance and-” he said before you stood and walked in front of him.

“I’m in.”

“Really? I mean it’s gonna be awhile before we’re back in the states,” he said.

“It sounds like fun.”

“Awesome. I was really hoping you’d say that,” he said.

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“Toronto. Well, near there. I gotta start filming start of February but there’s promo stuff to do in late January,” he said.

“It’s already late January,” you laughed. “When do we have to move?”

“Uh, tomorrow,” he said. “Just got the call a few hours ago. I got a house to rent lined up already.”

“Oh wow. Alright. Uh, what do I need to do exactly?” you asked.

“Keep stuff normal. Don’t worry about cleaning or anything. Maybe box up anything you want to bring and some of the kids stuff. Toys, books, that stuff. I’ll handle their bags. We’ll ship it all up tomorrow and take a flight up at night,” he said.

“Okay, cool,” you said. “Wait I need like, a snow jacket right?”

“We’ll get you set up there with coat and boots and all that,” he said.

“Gotcha,” you said, starting to leave before you spun around and walked smack into his chest. “Wait. I have a lot more questions actually. Like...I don’t have a passport?”

“I know which is why tomorrow morning first thing you’re gonna go down to the post office, get your passport done up and when it comes in, we’ll get it shipped up to Canada,” he said.

“How do I get into Canada though?”

“We share a border with them so we bring your license and birth certificate, you can go right on in no problem,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” you said. “Wait. I’ve never been on an airplane before. What-”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Take a hot second and breathe and we’ll go from there. I know it’s last minute but it’ll work out. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen, tapping your shoulder two days later. You hummed and reluctantly turned your head away from staring out the back sliding doors to the snow covered yard and trees around you. “Have you ever seen snow before?”

“No. Not like this,” you said, head going back to staring outside. “It’s something out of a movie.”

“You had that same look on your face when we took off last night in the plane.”

“What’s that?”

“Those little moments where the years fall off and you get that childish joy, like nothing bad has ever happened,” he said.

“I suppose there’s hope for me yet,” you said with a smile.

“Oh there was always that,” he chuckled. He threw an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him. “Can I still take you out Friday?”

“Who’s gonna watch the kids?” you asked.

“My buddy.”

“Does he exist?” you said, grinning at him.

“Cute,” he said, ruffling your bedhead. “Yes he does exist. How’s Friday night sound?”

“Do I need a dress?” you asked.

“Probably. It’s a nice place,” he said. “My favorite place in Toronto actually. Jeans are perfectly acceptable there though.”

“I’ll pick out a dress today too,” you said. You kissed his cheek and watched them turn an ever so light pink. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “Put your boots and coat on the card I gave you alright? That’s a business expense.”

“Whatever you say boss,” you said. “I’m gonna duck out before the little ones get up. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”

“Take your time. Drive slow in the snow until you get the hang of it, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“What the fuck’s the difference between therma heat and therma wear…” you mumbled to yourself, gawking at the glove rack at the store an hour later.

“I think it’s just marketing,” said the guy on the other side. You jumped and managed to knock about five pairs off the hangers. He laughed quietly and peeked his head around. “Didn’t mean to spoke ya.”

“It’s alright. I’m…” you said, the man smiling as you shook your head out. “Um...I…”

“You okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded and he smiled. “You sure cause you were just having a life crisis over gloves a second ago and now you can’t seem to form a sentence.”

“You’re Home…” you said, shutting your eyes. “You’re the actor that plays...I’m having a fucking day.”

“Looks like it,” he said, bending down and picking up some of the gloves. He laughed again and you got the ones closest to you, putting them back. “You know it’s like ten degrees outside right? Not exactly sneaker weather.”

“I know. This place looks pretty but it’s worse than a Texas summer almost with how cold it is.”

“I thought you sounded not from here,” he said with a smile. “I’m not from around here either. I do better with the heat myself.”

“Okay um, listen...uh, what’s your name, not Homelander?” you asked.

“Antony,” he chuckled again.

“I’m Y/N. I’m just gonna get the weird stuff out of the way cause…” you said as he smiled but stepped back a foot. “Yeah. Um I’m a fan but like...do you know Jensen Ackles?”

“Why?” he asked.

“He’s my boss...and my boyfriend but that’s another story. We might run into each other at some point, probably very likely. Just wanted to throw that out there.”

“Your boss?” he asked.

“I nanny his kids. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you either. I should go,” you said. You groaned when you were past him, hearing a pair of feet jog to catch up with you.

“I know you. You were on his instagram last week right? Yeah okay, that makes sense why a clueless Texas girl is stressing over gloves.”

“Excuse me?” He shook his head and smiled.

“Get a pair of thick gloves, thinner ones but not too thin, a warm hat, good boots for traction along with some boot spray and go with a longer hooded parka. It’ll be warmer. Throw in a few pairs of wool socks to be sure,” he said.

“Oh. Thank you,” you said. You looked back at the store and then to him. “There’s like five hundred coats in here.”

“How about you buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll help you out. Deal?”

“Why would you help me?” you asked.

“Well I’m gonna be working with Jensen quite a bit and he’s your boyfriend too apparently plus it’s just nice,” he said.

“You’re so not like your character.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. We’ll be out of here in an hour tops.”

Antony turned out to be very helpful since apparently you had an uncanny ability to be attracted to the least warmth rated items in the whole store. But you had your parka and boots on now, other items tucked away in the bags as you browsed through a rack of black dresses at a different store.

“We dress shopping now?” said Antony, sipping on his coffee cup.

“Dude,” you said, jumping again. “You gotta learn to make noise.”

“It’s my natural stealth,” he said. “That one.”

“What?”

“That one,” he said, nodding to a dress on the wall.

“I can’t pull that one off,” you said.

“Try it. I’ll watch your stuff,” he said.

“You’re oddly nice,” you said. “To a stranger.”

“Well this beats my plans of walking around the mall buying crap I don’t need. Besides, I like you.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I’m taken,” he laughed. “Come on. Everybody needs a shopping buddy.”

“Okay but if you’re a weirdo Jensen will kick your ass,” you said, finding your size and taking it off the rack. “Just sayin’.”

“I like the guy more already,” he said. “It’s not like it’s your first date or anything.”

“...Second date.” He stared and looked away. “It’s…complicated.”

“I heard about...you know…the accident,” he said.

“Let him bring that up,” you said and he nodded. You took the dress into the changing room and smirked at the mirror. “Alright, maybe we give this one a shot.”

You changed back and found Antony on a bench outside.

“I should take you shopping more often,” you said. “You have good taste.”

“Sounds like a winner,” he said, handing you back your bags. “I gotta head out for work but it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll see you around very soon.”

“Me too. Thanks for the help today, really.”

“Not a problem at all. See ya later,” he said as he headed out. You gave him a wave and picked out a pair of black heels to go with the dress before you were heading home.

“Hey Jensen,” you said late that night. He’d had to go in for some photos in the afternoon and had taken quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Leftovers are in the container on the top shelf.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and padded into the kitchen before tossing the container in the microwave.

“Um, Jensen? Can I talk to you about work?” you asked. His ears perked up and he nodded while he looked around for a spoon. “Second drawer to the left.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So what’s up? Something wrong?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking earlier though about a backup plan,” you said. He took out the container and grabbed his spoon sitting across from you at the table.

“What’s a backup plan?” he asked, shoveling a spoonful of too hot pasta into his mouth.

“Well down in Austin, say I was suddenly unable to perform my job duties cause I’m sick or hurt or I’m off on vacation or whatever. Down there I have a network of other nannies that could step in temporarily, they can do a pick up or drop off in a bind, that sort of thing. It’s kind of a support group in way. It’s good for me and for you.”

“They must have one of those things up here?” he asked, taking a slower bite this time. You spun your computer around and he nodded. “Tornanny. That’s cute. You gotta sign up or something?”

“I need to take a four hour class. They have one on Saturday morning. Is it okay if I sign up?” you asked. He chuckled and took another bite of food.

“Weekends are still yours to do as you please. I need a bit more help during weeknights or mornings but weekends are still yours. I’m also compensating your pay for the additional time and no you’re not winning that argument so don’t even try.”

“Okay. I’m gonna sign up,” you said, turning the computer back.

“What was that thing on the side?” he asked.

“Hm?” you said as you started filling in the form.

“Some happy hour thing on the side,” he said. You flicked your eyes over to the side of the page and saw the group posting. “That could be fun.”

“Do I look like the kind of person that goes to happy hours?” you said.

“Well maybe you could meet a nanny friend in this group, one you could maybe get to cover for you if you ever needed it. I did steal you away from everything you know to a different country with a days notice after all. I’d go with you if you want,” he said.

“What about the kids?”

“Hm?”

“Jensen. I’m starting to see a fatal flaw in me being the nanny and us dating. I’m the person that should be watching the kids when you go out,” you said.

“Hm,” he said, eating for a few moments. “You do have a point. I think we need to renegotiate your contract.”

“Wait you’re firing me?” you said, Jensen shaking his head and laughing. “Okay cause you were about to lose a girlfriend for a second there.”

He smiled to himself and looked down, playing with his dinner.

“So what are you talking about?” you asked.

“Well, girlfriend,” he chuckled. “How about this? Weekends you don’t work, at all, for any reason. If you watch the kids for an hour while I duck to the store, it’s cause you’re doing it cause of us, not as part of your job. If we want to go out or on a date on the weekend, we’ll get a sitter. I had a go to in Vancouver when I lived there. I’ll give her a call, see if she knows anyone out here that would work. That sound good?”

“I guess that’s alright,” you said. He raised and eyebrow and you shrugged. “I enjoy our alone time, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to take away from them though.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not saying…” he said before he trailed off and ate the last bites of his food. “I moved us so they could see me everyday which is far more than they ever did when I filmed my show. I will still make them breakfast. I will still put them to bed. I will still have lunch with them and play with them and all of it. They’ll always by my first priority. But a relationship with kids doesn’t always mean the kids are around. Sometimes they come with, sometimes they stay home. I’m not talking about ditching them for days on end. A few hours on a Saturday night, most of which they’ll be in bed asleep is all I’m talking about. We have a right to a little bit of time for ourselves. It’s not as easy with them than it was the first time around but we just have to try harder is all.”

“Okay,” you said. “I’m good with that. How was your first day?”

“Good. We did a lot of promotional stuff. I won’t start acting until next week. I heard you met Antony shopping today.”

“Yeah. I didn’t get a chance to tell you when I got home earlier. He seems like a nice guy.”

“He does. He invited us to dinner once we settle into a routine,” he said. “Apparently you two are shopping buddies now.”

“The man does know how to choose a dress.”

“Good thing I packed my lucky suit up here,” he said.

“Speaking of suits...you wouldn’t happen to have any of you in your Soldier Boy suit from today?”

“No spoilers,” he said with a smirk. You jutted out your lip and he rolled his eyes, taking out his phone. He tapped and slid it over to you, your eyes wide. You must have stared for a solid minute before you looked over at him, Jensen leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a huge grin on his face. “You think I’m hot, don’t you.”

“Pft, no,” you said, biting your bottom lip before you licked it. He was still grinning out of the corner of your eye and you gave him the phone back. “Maybe...you’re kinda hot. But it’s totally the suit. Like right now, ugh, horrendous.”

“Nah, I’m hot,” he said, sticking out his stomach and rubbing it.

“I’m impressed you can actually do that,” you said.

“Everybody’s got a tummy,” he said. “Seriously though, you think the suit is cool?”

“It looks awesome. I’d love to see it in person,” you said.

“Oh you guys will be on set at some point,” he said. “I’m kinda nervous about next week.”

“Really? Why? You’re a great actor.”

“Have you ever seen a single thing I’ve done,” he chuckled.

“I did in fact see that horror movie on a date years ago. Something with like mining?” you asked.

“That’s what you saw? Like that movie? I hope the date worked out at least,” he said with a big smirk.

“Actually it was the crappy ex,” you said.

“Oh. You guys must have dated for a long time then.”

“Since we were seventeen,” you said. He stared and you shrugged. “I kept waiting for him to grow up and change. Eventually I realized he never would.”

“Did you love him?”

“I loved the idea of him. I liked him. I was with him for close to 12 years so I obviously liked him. But it wasn’t love. I could never be myself all the way around him and that’s not a way to live. There was none of that feeling when you first meet someone, you know?”

“Would I be pushing to ask if you ever thought about marrying the guy?”

“He did propose actually. A few times,” you said. “I turned him down. Things really went downhill from there though.”

“Why’d you say no?”

“I didn’t want to marry someone that made me feel bad about being me. Got tired of him telling me to get over everything that happened as a kid, dress a certain way, should I really have dessert, that kind of crap.”

“It’s part of who you are. I wouldn’t exactly call your past something to get over,” said Jensen. “Why would he even make you feel bad about it? You’re so normal.”

“I don’t think his daddy hugged him enough,” you said.

“No need to be a dick to other people for it,” he said. You smiled as you finished filling out the rest of the form for the class before sending it off. “Hey on the plus side I did get a good recommendation for daycare today. I was gonna check it out tomorrow morning, maybe get the twins in next week. Apparently they’re also hooked up with a school so JJ can go to school with some other American kids too instead of being stuck behind a screen here all day.”

“That’s great news. She can make some new friends that way. You know I was thinking maybe she could get signed up for indoor soccer. When I played the new season normally started right at the beginning of February.”

“Is it safe?” he asked. “I thought that could get pretty dangerous.”

“Adult leagues can be but kids her age it’s just running back and forth mostly. She could make some new friends, give her something fun to look forward to.”

“It’s not a bad idea. I would like her to be involved in something since she’s out of dance and soccer back home right now. I’ll talk it over with her in the morning,” he said. “She say something to you about it?”

“No. I just know what it’s like to be the new kid,” you said. “Soccer helped me make friends at school.”

“You and your mom move after your dad passed?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was little so I don’t remember so much,” you said, an email coming in that your spot in the class was reserved. “Alright. Looks like I’m all set for eight on Saturday.”

“I’ll try not to keep you out too late on Friday night then,” he said.

“I never said that.”

“I like flirty you,” he said, both of you looking up at the ceiling when you heard a loud pair of giggles. “Duty calls. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#spn #supernatural #Jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

golden days

GOLDEN DAYS ; what it’s like dating Inarizaki’s golden boy

NOTE. kita shinsuke is amazing. he’s perfect. yeah, that’s it. i love him.

[THE FIRST MEETING.]

“I look forward to working with you!” You bow deep as a greeting, hands trembling as they wrap around the test packets. You’ve recently been appointed as the class assistant to help him balance his duties, whatnot being class president and captain of the volleyball team and whatnot. Kita Shinsuke is one of the most impressive students in your school without a doubt, and to be chosen as his assistant, the pressure is quite closing to choking you.

Gosh, you haven’t even ironed your vest down today.

With a grimace, you pat your skirt down in hopes to make yourself more presentable when he hums, silently taking the heavy stack of papers from you.

“I look forward to working with you as well,” his voice is smooth, cool, and gentle like going to a sunny beach on a cold day. It’s both chilling and warming at the same time, and you stare up at him with wide eyes. “Follow me. I’ll help you take this to the faculty room.”

“Oh, y-yes!”

You don’t miss the way he carries more packets compared to your load, but he doesn’t mind. Years of playing volleyball definitely gained him some strength in those muscles. Unable to help it, your lips tug upwards in a smile as you fall into step beside him, feeling weirdly giddy that he doesn’t seem to be that scary, after all. You both keep to yourselves all the way there, a comfortable silence stretching over.

Usually, you prefer noise filling in the gaps to avoid awkward moments, but with Kita, its appreciated, peaceful even. You welcome it wholeheartedly, that warm blossoming feeling erupting all over your chest even as you made it back to your classroom.

You fidget at the doorframe, wondering if you should say thank you or see you at the meeting after class, hands fiddled with one another while your eyebrows pinch together.

What can you say to Kita Shinsuke?

He beats you to it as he passes you by, his hands faintly grazing against the pads of your knuckles as he tries to fit himself through the door with your body blocking his way. “Thank you,” Kita nods politely, “I’ll talk to you later again in the meeting.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” you stammer, ignoring the loud beating of your heart. Could it just be you, or was there a spark of electricity when his skin came into contact with yours?

[THE FIRST STUDY SESSION.]

“Ugh,” you groan before falling onto the book right in front of you. Kita sits next to you, completely unbothered as he keeps studying his notes, his focus as unwavering as him. “Kita, I don’t understand a single thing.”

“Hmm, which part don’t you get?”

Your groan grows louder as you turn your head to the side, about to complain that proverbs just weren’t your thing, only to stop and flush heated. Kita’s leaned closer to you, unbothered by the lack of space or the fact that he’s close enough you could count his lashes, both bottom and top row. His eyes skim over the messy scrawls of your notebook, humming to himself before nodding.

“That one’s easy. I can teach you that,” Kita scoots closer, his pen spinning in his pretty fingers before he sees your quivering lips, cheek bitten inside your mouth. “What’s wrong?”

Of course he doesn’t know!

“Nothing at all!” you sit back up, spine straight and clearing your throat awkwardly. You make sure to keep your gaze averted from his the whole time, nails dug into your skirt as you pray to whoever diving being that he won’t get to hear the pumping of your heart in this proximity. “Oh yeah, I don’t understand this part. You get it though, don’t you?” That’s a rhetorical question – what exactly didn’t Kita know? – you can’t help yourself from asking just to hide your nervousness.

“Yes. It should be easy. Now, take a look at this passage…”

Although it’s your idea to join the volleyball captain the moment you saw him studying by himself in the library, you found to regret it afterwards. You couldn’t focus on a single thing at all, not when his fingers are so slender and pretty as they point to words blurring over the paper, his scent both calming and intoxicating.

You offer mindless nods every now and then, though his words enter one ear and out into the other. Minutes pass – maybe it’s even been an hour – you don’t really know.

Kita closes your books shut with a sigh, a sound he only makes when really tired. You panic and ready yourself to apologize for being such a burden when Kita closes his eyes, his chuckles soft and a little teasing as he shakes his head. “You didn’t understand a single thing, did you?”

Caught red handed.

There’s no point lying now that he’s easily seen through you, and your shoulders deflate, head ducked in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I was just distracted.”

“I know,” although his voice is nonchalant as ever, Kita is hiding a smirk and blushing cheeks behind the palm of his hand. He reaches over to get another book, English this time around; a subject you’re better at than he is, as a silent way of saying now it’s your turn to teach him. “Next time, focus on the lesson instead of staring my face, yeah?”

[THE FIRST HAND HOLDING.]

Life has been so sweet and golden ever since you and Kita started dating.

It’s honestly still so hard to fathom that Kita actually likes you – likes you enough to date you! Steam is pouring out your ears and your lips won’t stop shaking as you fight back a smile, in complete disbelief that Kita is walking right beside you, handsome and sweet as ever as you guys go out on your first date. He’s been the one to ask you out but lets you choose where you want to go anyway, but being the flustered, nervous mess you are, you just blurt that a walk in the park is nice.

You snicker at yourself while the memory replays. Walk in the park? What are you two, dogs?

Just thinking about makes you turn your head to the side, chin planted on your shoulder as you grimace. Kita doesn’t seem too bothered, but then again, he’s always been hard to read.

You gasp a little when Kita suddenly holds your shoulders, blinking rapidly as he switches positions with you. His face is blank, nodding once upon seeing you’re on the other side of the sidewalk now while he’s closer to the road. It’s such a respectful, polite act that isn’t even romantic at all, but you can’t help but smile anyway, giggling to yourself while Kita shoves his hands down his pockets.

“Something funny?”

“Nope,” you say with the ‘p’ popping, “Nothing at all.”

He raises a brow in question, but doesn’t pry further. You’re swinging your arms side to side, perhaps a little too giddy that you’re with him until your hand is rendered motionless. Brows furrowing, your gaze lands on the sudden warmth spreading all over you.

Kita is holding your hand, his thumb gently forming circles over yours.

If you were feeling giddy before, your eyes are pumping heart eyes now. It dawns on you that your hands are shaking and embarrassingly sweaty, soft against his rough ones, and you try to pull away to rub the sweat onto your skirt. Kita doesn’t give you the chance and tugs you closer instead until your forehead knocks onto his shoulder, making the docile guy snicker.

“Something funny?” you taunt this time around, using your other hand to rub at your sore forehead. He’s a lot muscular and firmer than you thought, making you look like a soft marshmallow in comparison. You don’t hate it though – if anything, it just makes you happier.

Kita notices this written all over your face as he smiles, leaning close until he’s looking at you in eye-level. “Nope,” he repeats, “Nothing at all.”

[THE FIRST KISS.]

Your hands are gripping Kita’s jacket so hard you fear you’ll break it. His hands are gentle and tender as they grip your waist, his little sighs into your lips enough to break you. Your eyes are shut tight, warm lips above his moving cautiously as to not weird him out even though he’s the first one that leaned in.

In your nervousness, your knee beside his body slips farther to the side until you’re falling from his grasp. You gasp at the sliding sensation as you pull away from Kita, hands clutching his clothes while you fall.

Kita, fast and careful as ever, simply places a solid hand flat at your back, wasting no time to bring you back into his lips again. This time around, he’s no longer soft, dominant even as he places you firmly above his lap, hands strong and wrapped around your waist.

You moan when Kita slips his tongue in, tasting the strawberry lollipop you were sucking earlier, the sweetness of it earning you a low groan from him as a reward.

At this point, your heart is about to combust. His hands are everywhere, lips and tongue tasting every inch and spot of yours like he’s been dying to have a taste this whole time. Your confidence grows the longer and harder he kisses you, hands moving up to his shoulders then to his jaw, cupping his face to press your lips harder against his.

Kita smiles into the lip-locking, bending his head sideways to kiss you deeper, his large hand now lingering at the back of your head. Faster than you would like, Kita pulls away, his eyes hazy with something unreadable – something different than what you usually see from him.

His lips are red and moist, and you breathe harder at the thought that your usual composed boyfriend is tethering at the edges because of you.

It makes you wonder just what else you could do to fluster him and bring out more different sides of him, but as always, Kita is one step ahead of you, your recent thoughts an old and never-ending plan of his.

“I love you,” he blurts out, rendering you speechless one more time. When you groan in embarrassment and hide your face in his chest, Kita laughs, the sound a heart warming one as if he isn’t enjoying how fun it is to tease you. Nevertheless, he only tightens his hold around you, pushing you over the edge again and prompting your heart to do unhealthy back flips the moment he kisses the top of your head. “I love you.”

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uwuwriting · 3 years

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A little early for that w/ Todoroki, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: hii can i req a hc of todo, shinsou, and bakugou seeing y/n taking care of eri then they’ll be like “i want a baby with you” :D - anonymous

Don’t get me started on the latest BNHA chapter. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’ll try to make a double upload today so maybe expect a song fic after this one Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Todoroki Shoto

-It was during Eri’s visit during christmas that it hit Todo.

-You were dressed in a Santa costume just like everyone else with Eri gripping your hand as you took her around the room explaining all about Christmas celebrations.

-It was a very mundane moment if you think about it.

-You were being kind and caring to a child who had suffered immensely at the hands of Overhaul and you wanted to show her what the holiday was all about.

-Now that he thinks of it, it shouldn’t have struck him like it did.

-His chest became warm and fuzzy, his cheeks heating up a bit as he stared at you and Eri.

-Then you kneeled down and brought Eri into a hug, raising her into the air so she could place an ornament on the class’s tree and it was game over for him.

-He prides himself in being a rather collected person but at that moment he lost all sense of control over his emotions.

-His mouth hung open and his chest started to squeeze, knocking the breath out of him.

-He couldn’t help the thoughts of the both of you owning a house somewhere not very far from Tokyo, waking up to you every morning , making breakfast with you and enjoying all the moments you shared.

-Then other images flooded his mind.

-Sitting in the living room as you steadied your toddler, a perfect mix of the two of you, helping them waddle towards him.

-Him helping them place the ornament at the very top of your Christmas tree every time you decorated.

-He could see your smile so vividly he almost thought it was real.

-It was a ridiculous thought for a 16 year old to have and he knew it but in that moment he let himself imagine it.

-Before he knew it you were standing next to him, Eri running off to Aizawa excited to share what she just learned about christmas, arms crossed over your chest as you let out a happy sigh.

- “My santa work is done for the day.”

- “You would make a great mom”

- *pikachu meme*

-He sensed your confusion *and so did your dead ancestors*

- “I want to be next to you when that happens.”

-Girl you got whiplash from this whole conversation.

-You couldn’t decide if you were soft and giddy since he basically said that he wants to start a family with you or if you were terrified because he said he wants to start A FAMILY WITH YOU WHEN YOU’RE BARELY 16.

-In his defense he didn’t say he wanted to start now.

-So you kinda calmed down.

- “I-um thank you Sho. I think you would make a great father too.”

-Blushy blushy baby after that one.

-Some denial sprinkled on top because trauma but blushy blushy boy.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Okay now third year Shinsou is a stressed Shinsou.

-A third year you is a stressed you.

-And a field day with your now ten year old somewhat trauma free adopted by your homeroom teacher child was what you both needed.

-Shinsou is like a big brother to Eri at this point.

-He has babysat her one too many times to not be considered at least a stable figure in her life.

-You had decided to take a stroll in the park, the autumn air and all the pretty leaves making it a sight to behold.

-Plus it had a pond with ducks.

-And you love ducks.

-Shinsou had brought some bread crumbs so you could feed them and that’s what you were doing when it hit him.

-That weird domesticity.

-You were crouched down on Eri’s height, one arm wrapped securely around her small waist so she wouldn’t fall into the pond and the other was outstretched with a piece of bread, motioning to the ducks to approach you.

-It was a nice scene, picture perfect if you asked him and it did something to his heart strings.

-Just like Todo he imagined walking home with you after a tiring day at your agency, your hands intertwined, matching golden bands circling your ring fingers.

-He imagined a little Y/N being next to you and not Eri.

-Vibrant purple hair sticking out at every which direction as they would throw bread at the ducks maybe even calling him over when one got too close.

-He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you standing in front of him, waving your hand over his eyes so you could get his attention.

- “Earth to Toshi!”

-You giggled when he shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared at your smiling features.

- “Eri is hungry-” “You are hungry Y/N-chan!!!” “- and she wanted to go get some good old onigiri from that new shop that opened down the street.” “Lies…”

-You side-eyed the little girl who outed you, her own eyes staring right back in accusation as you let out a sigh saying under your breath “I’m hungry”

-He couldn’t control his laughter as it bubbled from his lips, ruffling Eri’s hair while giving you a kiss on the lips as he circled his arm around your waist and took Eri’s with his other one.

- “Can’t say no to my girls now, can I?”

-It was later that night when he voiced his thoughts.

-You were asleep in his dorm, laying basically on him with your head tucked in his neck as you breathed evenly.

- “It’s a little early to think of kids but I can’t wait to have one with you.”

-And with that he fell asleep his dreams being filled with images of you.

Bakugou Katsuki

-You managed to get him to say that???

-Mister tough as balls?

-Mister imma roundhouse kick you if you look at me with affection in your eyes?

-Someone get this girl a medal.

-But in all seriousness it was a very motherly move.

-You were in your second year, the events of the war with the villains still haunting all of you so everyone was keeping an eye on their loved ones and their classmates.

-Bakugou was no exception .

-Seeing people getting hurt severely, seeing himself so defeated and hurt during those battles had rattled him and he would always linger close to you, a slight paranoia having taken his place in his heart the past few months.

-You understood why he did it, why he hovered next to you most of the time and if you were being honest it didn’t really bother you * except from that one time you went to the bathroom and he called you three times in a row bc he couldn’t see you and panicked*

-Eri was running around with Kaminari and Sero, the three of them playing tag with the one brain cell they all shared at the moment.

-Suddenly, Eri tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the pavement, small tears forming in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.

-In a flash you were next to her, a hand massaging her knee around the area of the wound while the other one was cupping her cheek, your thumb making small circles on the girl’s cheekbones.

- “It’s just a scratch. See? It’s not that bad.”

-Bakugou was just staring at the scene unfolding in front of him, his immediate thoughts being that you looked so motherly in that moment.

-The concern and the reassurance reminded him of his mother when she would calm him down after he got hurt, before she became a pain in the ass *as he likes to say*.

-Without him even realizing it he made a mental image of your shared family.

-A house in the outskirts, with a yard, maybe a dog running around.

-But most importantly a little demon that looked like you, climbing onto your shared bed on his day off, nestling in between you two as it went back asleep.

-You making breakfast while having them in your arms.

-He really wished he could see that now.

-But he’s a little young and you wouldn’t really like having a baby before finishing high school sooo he kinda buried it.

-He told you about it when you both were in his dorm getting ready for a movie night.

-It was a more aggressive approach but you got the point of his little rant.

- “I want to spend my life with you too Katsu.”

- “SHUT UP SHITTY WOMAN!”

- “OI!”

TAG TEAM AY:

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gyusbambi · 3 years

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humph; han seojun (pt 4)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

click here for humph masterlist!

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 3.8k

to claim that the cupid-team is surprised to witness han seojun getting along with his long term frenemy would be an absolute understatement. in fact, they seem completely and utterly dumbfounded as they watch you both laugh at a joke seojun pulled in the middle of the bus ride back home. needless to say, the childhood friends tease each other now and then like they’re used to it, this time without hurting any feelings. all of these observations, including the fact that you decided to sit next to each other in the bus, lead to several assumptions and without you knowing, rumors start to develop.

for whatever reason, neither you nor seojun are aware of the gossip regarding both of you. perhaps it’s thanks to kim chorong, who’s apparently really skilled at being inconspicuous.

it’s been one day since you arrived home and you find yourself sleeping in till two pm on a saturday.

seriously, you should fix your chaotic sleeping schedule.

when you finally leave your room to get some food into your stomach, dressed in your favorite hoodie and sweatpants, your mum and juyeong are already eating lunch. like expected, they give you a quick judging look without interrupting their conversation. while you’re putting some rice in a bowl they talk about juyeong’s crush on some girl. soon their conversation moves to something related to seojun, and that's when you suddenly pay attention instead of playing with the cold food on your plate.

"y/n, is seojun’s mother in a better condition now?"

instantly you look up to react to your mum’s question. instead of looking at you, she puts more vegetables on juyeong’s table,

"it's been a few days since i last visited her, maybe i should do it again soon. i really hope she gets better."

"what are you talking about?"

"seojun hyung's mum is in hospital." juyeong answers, his mouth stuffed with food while pushing the vegetables away with a scrunched face.

"what?"

"hasn't he told you about his mum? i thought you guys would tell each other everything." my mum questioned with a small pout forming on her lips, finally meeting your worried eyes.

"they broke up.", your annoying brother fails the attempt to whisper.

"we're not together!"

displeased, you hiss at your brother, voice getting higher.

"you guys act like a married couple sometimes. it's annoying."

"shut up!"

"both of you stop now." your mother sighs while her hands move in the air in attempt to stop you from attacking your own brother.

"seojun’s mum is seriously sick and i'm going to visit her tomorrow morning. y/n, maybe you should do too? or talk to him a little since he's probably not doing so well."

"i will."

feeling upset that you’re just finding out about seojun’s mother’s condition, you can’t stop thinking about it for the whole day. besides that, you are worried and consider visiting them the next day.

even though their house is quite near to yours, you have to go through the dangerous part of your quarter. as you make your way to the han’s, your hand moves to your right pocket to grab the pocketknife, which seojun gifted you in your freshman year of high school. for defense reasons, he said.

"you need to be careful when you're walking down this street. here, have this."

however, instead of seeing a group of dangerous men, you spot han seojun himself, walking towards your direction with hands in his pocket. thinking of a casual way of greeting him, you clear your throat before taking a few steps forwards in order to greet him,

"hey!”

"hey, what are you doing here?"

surprised to see you in this area, seojun raises his eyebrows.

"well, i actually wanted to visit- what the hell happened to your face?"

rapidly, you interrupt yourself when the boy is finally close enough for you to spot the multiple bruises on his pale skin. this causes you take a few steps forward and reach for his cheek instantly, worry written all over your face.

he looks horrible. bruises all over his face, lip bleeding, knuckles visibly red.

seojun catches glimpse of your worried eyes and feels embarrassed for you to find him at this state. instead of making the attempt to explain the situation, he grabs your hand which rests on his cheek. the touch of your warm and soft hand causes a pressure building in this chest. seojun doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of yours.

suddenly your cheeks feel like they’re turning into the shade of a tomato. besides that, your heart starts acting all weird when you catch glimpse of his intense eyes.

"what happened?" you question once again, this time with even more concern.

"it's not important-"

"did you get into a fight?"

"that bastard lee seungyong was getting on my nerves again, it's not important." he sighs after running his hand through his hair.

"alright. come on, we need to clean those bruises before they get worse." you mutter after grabbing his right arm and pulling him towards your house.

seojun hisses with a painful expression as you attempt to clean the awful wounds on his cheeks. with a concentrated look crossing over your face, you focus on the terrible cut. however, you impatiently drop your hand on your lap when seojun can’t seem to stop moving, an annoyed sigh followed after.

“could you stop moving the whole time? i’m trying to do something here.”,

positioning yourself closer to the boy sitting on the edge of your bed, you’re ready to treat his wounds for the third time. seojun only grins playfully despite the painful bruises,

“look at you acting like a doctor.”

ignoring his comment, you raise your hand once again to reach for his chin. fingers brushing on his skin, you are able to focus. this time seojun doesn’t flinch. quite the contrary, he’s like frozen on spot. the only thing he seems to be able to focus on are your features.

nothing but silence dominates your room as you decide to clean the cut on his bottom lip. you fingers brushing over his soft lip, eyes completely focused on them, the poor boy’s heart is about to explode in front of you. he internally thanks to god that you don’t notice his chest rising up and down or his ears turning into a darker shade of red. breath taken away, his eyes linger on your lips, blinking frequently.

yet, his relief only lasts for a couple seconds when the silence eventually makes you look up to seojun, only to find him already staring at you, eyes gazing at your lips.

not aware of your slightly surprised eyes, he continues staring. clearly, your bodies are almost attached to each other. not to mention, you leaned in a little earlier, grip on his shoulder to prevent him from moving. the young boy practically prays that you won’t hear his heart racing in his chest.

aren’t you even a little nervous? it almost makes him annoyed how the closeness doesn’t seem to bother you at all.

little does he know that you feel the exact same way. in fact, you’re so bothered by the butterflies in your stomach that you suddenly wish that he would just continue making dumb jokes or rude comments.

pulling your hand away from his shoulder in a swift move, you blink. still, you’re not able to look away which seems so stupid and unbelievably odd.

seconds after you catch glimpse of his hand getting closer to yours but that isn’t enough for you to look away.

why would someone look attractive with a beaten face? that doesn't make any sense.

seeing him in this state, bruises, messy hair, intense gaze, flushed face, makes you want to hug him, ask him what was wrong, tell him you were here for him.

however, right when you think he is going to say something or reach for your hand and hold it...

"guess who just ate two big delicious menus-"

juyeong.

the second your brother lays eyes on seojun sitting super close to you, his eyes widen in horror.

"o-oh adult business, i get it. i'll leave now. bye, hyung!"

yet, of course, before leaving your room he doesn’t miss the chance to make gagging noises.

"and y/n, sadly, there wasn't enough food for you."

his fake pout makes you want to throw your slipper at him but you just close your eyes for a second and exhale, trying to remain calm.

seojun only chuckles with amusement.

"mum! y/n and seojun hyung are a couple again. can she move out now?"

juyeong’s annoying voice can be heard all the way too my room. embarrassed, you glance at seojun, who is obviously trying to hold in his laugh.

"i'm sorry for my brother."

"you don't need to be."

"a-anyways, are you better now? i mean your bruises?" you stammer while pointing at his face, wanting to ignore what just happened.

"yeah, a lot better. thank you."

he trails off, eyes darting through the room,

"i-i should probably leave now."

right, your stupid self forgot to ask him about his mum.

"i heard about your mum. i hope she's doing better?"

“thankfully, she is. it's a little difficult for us but we’re going through this."

“hopefully she’ll feel better soon. i’m sure you’re taking good care of her,”

you’re always like that. caring about others more than yourself.

“if you need anything, i’m here.”

he smiles genuinely, “thank you.“

and that's when he leaves.

the sun shines outside the next day. but instead of going out and enjoying the nice weather like other normal people, you lay on your bed while thinking about the previous day. strangely, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way seojun made you feel.

why did your heart race? why were you left speechless?

in the corner of your mind, there’s been an explanation for your weird feelings for your childhood friend. although, you’ve always tried to ignore it and distract yourself.

but now, thinking about all the times seojun made your heart flutter, it just made sense.

you like him.

“no!”

with widen eyes you swiftly stand up, not believing yourself.

it couldn’t be, right? everyone feels this way to their friend at some point of their friendship, no?

but the thing is: you’ve been feeling like this the whole time.

letting yourself fall on your bed, you scream into your pillow.

you like han seojun.

and there’s no way your former frenemy likes you back.

it’s another school morning as you walk into your class. this time however, you’re nervous to enter the room. after all, you’ll have to be around the one person you now feel nervous talking to. what if he notices your odd behavior. praying that he won’t approach you in a way that made your heart flutter, you eventually enter the classroom.

however, it seems like the universe is making fun of you when you’re met with something hundred times worse the moment you step into the room. instantly, all eyes land on you and all you hear are cheers and screams from your classmates,

“congratulations on dating, y/n and seojun!”

“you’re so cute together!”

“y/n and seojun sitting on a tree!”

at the sight of chorong and his group wearing t-shirts with your shipname printed on them, your eyes widen in horror. they think you’re dating han seojun?!

“why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m your close friend after all!”

sua pouts, hitting your arm playfully while your eyes are still glued on the ridiculous t-shirts.

“is it true, y/n?”,

from the corner of your eye you see soojin giving you a teasing smile.

“listen, guys. there has been a huge misunderstanding.”,

when you can finally focus on your friends, who surround you with curious looks, han seojun enters the classroom, completely unaware of what’s happening right now.

the young boy frowns at chorong after setting his bag on his table. yet soon his confused face changes to a shocked one, as he eventually notices the t-shirts, everyone congratulating him with cheerful laughter.

turning his head to you, he notices your helpless look while you tilt your head to the side. totally surprised by everything, seojun has no clue how to act at the beginning.

finally, both of you manage to stand in front of the class, facing your classmates as they continue asking several questions,

“since when have you been dating?”

“no way! did anything happen during the school trip?”

“tell us the truth!”

frustrated, you move your hands in the air, trying to speak with a loud tone so that everyone can understand you,

“i don’t know how you came up with this rumor but seojun and me are only friends, okay?”

hearing your statement, everyone groans at the same time, not believing you at all,

“it’s so obvious! just tell us the truth.”

letting out a sigh, you turn your head to face seojun with an annoyed look,

“could you at least say something?”

however, seojun only raises his eyebrows before taking his hands out of his pockets,

“would you hate it that much?”

his sentence makes you frown and multiple questions appear in your head. not quite understanding his point, you continue staring at him with furrowed eyebrows before he finally slams his hand on the desk in front of him, catching everyone’s attention,

“you guys better stop spreading all those rumors around. she’s only my friend...,”

disappointed, many students groan before going back to their seats while others still don’t seem to believe seojun and shake their heads in denial.

seojun bends down to your height so that his face is only a few inches apart from yours before whispering with one eyebrow raised,

“...right?”

nervously you blink, sadness starting to grow inside you after hearing his words. of course, he only considers you as his friend. there’s no way he would see you as something more.

friday nights are always the same for you: watching your current favorite tv show while snacking on whatever you have at home. whereas other people from your grade probably club somewhere.

that night your phone rings and an unknown number appears on the screen. thinking it’s a stupid prank, you pick it up with an annoyed sigh.

"hello?"

"hello. is this y/n?"

"yes. who am i talking to?"

there is a short silence before the unknown person starts talking again,

"look, i work at this club near your neighborhood and this dude randomly passed out here. i found your number on his phone so i thought of calling you. can you maybe come and get him? he's seriously wasted a– dude, what the hell, stop spilling all the drinks!"

"i'm sorry but who are you talking about?"

you heard the unknown man mumble before answering, "seojung? seung- seojun?"

"han seojun?"

"yes! that's his name."

a short silence takes over when you sit up in shock.

"so, are you coming?"

you sigh before replying, "i need the adress.”

the moment you enter that club, you want to return to your house. many people dance on the dance floor, totally wasted. everyone is pressing their bodies against each other's. the loud music makes you feel even more uncomfortable. you look around and let out a relieved sigh when you find a bartender with a phone on his hand.

"hello, i'm here for seojun. the guy who–"

"hey, finally! he's right here."

you follow the man to the other side of the club, where people are sitting on the couches and drinks were sold every minute. it doesn’t take you long to spot seojun sitting on the couch. his eyes are closed but his head is swinging from left to right. you can’t believe your eyes. you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him in a state like this ever before.

"don't worry. your boyfriend didn't hook up with anyone." the bartender next to you said.

"he's not my boyfriend."

"what are you then?"

"i'm his..." you trail off before answering,

"neighbor! i’m his neighbor!"

seojun shouldn't know that you came to pick him up at this time.

without waiting any longer, you help seojun getting up and wrap his arm around your shoulder. before leaving the club, the bartender reaches you seojun’s phone and makes sure to call a taxi. after thanking him you leave with seojun’s heavy body.

while waiting for the taxi to arrive, seojun keeps rambling stupid things you can’t understand. it’s getting harder for you to stand with him by yourself every minute, so you decide to sit on the bench with him, which is a couple steps away from the bus station.

you let out an exhausted sigh after sitting down and then turn your head towards him. suddenly you grab his face and make him look at you. he smiles like an idiot after you brush his bangs away from his forehead. his cheeks are extremely red, his lips pouting slightly and his eyes struggling not to close. your cold hands hold his warm, soft cheeks while you analyze his expressions. you have to admit: seojun looks cute.

after a few seconds he suddenly frowns. he narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side slightly, looks you up and down considerately before asking,

"who are you?"

“you don't know who i am?"

"hmmm..." he rubs his chin carefully, acting like he’s solving a mystery,

"no."

"good."

"you're telling me that that's fine?" seojun giggles and covers his mouth.

"yes, absolutely."

"alright! i'm han seojun. who are you?" he stretches his hand out for you to shake.

"does that matter?”

“of course! who are you, young lady?”

"that's not important right now. what matters is that you're extremely drunk. what were you doing here?"

"you're rude!" he pouts and crosses his arms,

"you won't even tell me your name."

"why are you acting so childish?"

"i-i don't know."

"never mind. that's fine."

"really?!"

"yeah, you're good."

you notice how his lips form a small smile,

"you're nice and then rude and then nice and then- you remind me of someone you know?"

yes, that's you.

"my friend y/n."

"oh, really?" you sarcastically laugh.

"yeah! she's like you. but prettier. like so much prettier. she’s pretty."

"that doesn't even make sense."

"huh?" seojun asks confused.

oh no, why do you have to be so cute.

"actually, it’s hard for me to be her friend." suddenly he’s all sad,

"sometimes i cross the line and don’t know my limits. but she's so dumb and stubborn!"

"and why is that?” frowning, you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his response.

he only sighs with tiredness, "never mind–"

and then he falls asleep on your shoulder.

finally you arrive at seojun’s house and fortunately all the lights are out. with his heavy body pressing to your small one, you struggle to carry him up the stairs. quietly, the door is opened by you before seojun falls into his bed. your head starts hurting, which makes you sit down next to him and massage your temples. however, you help seojun standing up and carry him to the bathroom carefully, in order to wash his face. he lets you take off his jacket and his shoes. finally he lays down on his back, with his face facing the ceiling.

"don't lie on your back." you demand.

"hm?" seojun’s eyes are firmly closed when he mutters with tiredness.

"lie on your side." you pull his body to the side, so that he could face you.

definitely, his facials expressions change. his lips are no longer pouted, his eyes extremely tired, his cheeks pale. from analyzing his face once again, you fail to notice him staring at you with his eyebrows drawn together. soon his confused expression changes to a sad one when you cover his body with his bed sheets.

"i'm sorry." seojun mutters suddenly. you expect him to continue, as he grabs both of your hands and slightly pulls you closer to him. a shiver goes down your spine.

"y/n, you deserve better."

he knows it’s you?

"i know i treated badly but i need you."

his eyes are barely opened, his words barely understandable. your hands start shivering as his grip tightens.

"i-i should go."

"no! please stay here." he rambles drunkly.

you decide to stay a little longer, just until he would fall asleep and hopefully forget everything that has happened this night.

“i mi..."

you aren’t able to understand his quiet mumbling, so you lean in a little,

“what did you say?"

“i miss y/n."

silence takes over the room before you finally reply,

“i missed you too, seojun-ah.”

your words make him open his eyes immediately. with a surprised face he tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes,

"y/n?"

instead of saying anything, you hold his hand while he’s still questioning your identity. all of the sudden his hands leave yours to grab your face. without waiting too long he pulls your face closer to his. instantly, your eyes widen when you notice the small gap between your noses. intensively, he looks into your eyes. so many emotions can be read from his look, yet you can’t figure out what he‘s feeling exactly. they have the most beautiful brown color you have ever seen. so deep, that you could get lost in them. only seconds pass, but it still feels like you were staring at each other for an eternity. you can even feel his soft breath on your face, which causes your ears to turn a dark shade of crimson.

seojun then glances at your lips before looking back into your eyes again. without waiting any longer he presses your lips together, one hand holding your cheek while the other grabs your waist. you let out a small gasp, your eyes remain closed, your whole body frozen. is this really happening?

when you’re finally able to kiss him back and hold firmly into his shoulders, he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. you feel your heart beating thousand times faster, almost exploding in your chest, as his soft lips press against yours. your face is glowing when you eventually wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, unable to resist the warm feeling. without doubt, you are sure that you've never felt something like this before.

seojun slowly pulls back when he feels your fingers softly tugging at his hair, leaving a small gap between your lips. you feel his breath on your face when he hums something before his lips meet yours for the second time, not giving you enough time to open your eyes,

“hmm, strawberries.”

feeling his lips forming a small smile, your heart is about to explode in your chest. seojun was insanly drunk but clearly enjoys the taste of strawberry lip balm, brushing his thumb over your cheek softly.

soon you break the kiss only to find seojun falling asleep on his bed seconds later. not believing what just happened you stare at him, admiring his features before panic takes over you and you rush out of his house.

would he remember any of this tomorrow?

to be continued...

(p.s: sorry for making you wait for so long🥺)

#han seojun #seojun #humph #true beauty #hwang inyeop #han seojun imagine #han seojun imagines #han seojun x reader #han seojun fluff #seojun x reader #seojun fluff #seojun imagine #seojun imagines #scenarios #fanfiction

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell.

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead.

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide.

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school.

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them.

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents.

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class.

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that.

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him.

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.”

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it.

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait.

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something?

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him.

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it?

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart.

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was.

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip.

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school.

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke.

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya.

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous.

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you.

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues.

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof.

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys.

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him.

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out.

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight.

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong.

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.

#grease imagine #grease headcanons #grease x reader #grease headcanon #70s movie imagines #70s movie headcanons #70s movie headcanon #70s movie imagine #kenickie imagine #kenickie x reader #kenickie headcanons #kenickie headcanon #kenickie murdoch imagine #kenickie murdoch headcanon #kenickie murdoch headcanons #kenickie murdoch x reader

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heliads · 3 years

Text

The Football Player (Part One)

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

masterlist / part two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise

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