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peachbear88 · 3 years

Text

The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

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You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

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A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

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"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

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You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

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"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

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You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

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"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

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"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

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Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

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The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

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Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

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"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

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The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

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"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

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"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

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Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

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#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

Mr. Komaeda’s Lesson

THE FILTH ARRIVES

Summary: You should really proofread your assignments before submitting them... AKA: Professor Komaeda fucks you over his desk (literally my dream) Word count: 4258 Contains: she/her pronouns, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, professor/student relationships, gentle dom nagito (he’s very gentle i swear) Read on AO3 ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

The soothing smell of camomile lemon tea wafts around the small office. The blinds are half open, casting the orange light of the setting sun across the smooth leaves of a peace lily that resides in a pot hanging in front of the heating unit. The warm air rocks it gently back and forth. The atmosphere in the room is light and pleasant, but it does nothing to ease your nerves.

“Do you want some?” Professor Komaeda asks as he pours himself a cup of the aforementioned camomile lemon tea. He has a little teapot sitting on his desk, it’s very cute.

You clear your throat, fidgeting in your seat, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, let’s get started then, shall we?”

You’ve been dreading this meeting for weeks now. Your professor had been very insistent that this wouldn’t be a discussion about the quality of your work, but more about what he could do to help you maintain focus in lectures. There was also a brief mention about your most recent assignment, he said that he wasn’t concerned, but did want to run through a few things with you.

He was very polite about it, which makes the true nature of your distraction only more reprehensible.

“So, first I want to start with a simple question. How are you doing?”

“Uh, fine?”

He nods and takes a sip of his tea, “No problems outside of our classes? You don’t need to answer if you aren’t comfortable.”

“No i- uh. I’m fine outside of classes too.” You fidget again, twisting your hands in your lap, “I’ve been...tired? But that’s my fault, I stay up too late.”

He hums thoughtfully and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, “Could that be having an affect on your focus? I can see that you have been distracted in our most recent lectures and just want to make sure it isn’t a fault of myself or my material.” He laughs a little to himself, “I know I can be a little boring sometimes.”

Professor Komaeda is not boring. He’s probably the most engaging lecturer you’ve ever had, passionate about his subject matter and very enthusiastic about class participation. He also wears really tight trousers and has long dexterous fingers that you can't help imagining inside of your-

“I mean, being tired could be the problem?” A bold faced lie.

“Well in that case there isn’t much more I can suggest than a good night's rest.” He gives you a long look that makes you squirm in your seat, “I only graduated a few years ago myself, I understand the urge to make the most of your day, but you can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.” He takes another sip of his tea, a drop misses his mouth and rolls down his chin. He catches it with his thumb, which he then brings up to his lips and sucks. You swallow deeply, tearing your eyes from where his lips are meeting his skin. Your knee starts bouncing. Nerves.

“Would it help if you sat a little closer to the front of the lecture hall?”

It wouldn’t. Especially not on warm days when he loosens his tie and undoes the first three buttons on his shirt. You spent a whole lecture transfixed on the dip of his collarbones once. Not great for your note taking, “maybe I’ll give that a go next week” you say. Another lie.

“Okay, try that out and let me know if it helps.” He gently sets down his teacup and starts working his white hair up into a bun. His fingers are so delicate as he combs through the strands, pulling his hair up and away from his pale throat, exposing the length of it to your hungry eyes-

A noise escapes from your mouth. Almost a whine, but not quite. Professor Komaeda doesn't say anything, but his intense eyes meet yours for just a moment. You clench your thighs together.

“Are you ready to talk about your assignment now?” He asks, picking the teacup again. It’s decorated with sunflowers, almost criminally cute, “No reason to be nervous. I want to make it clear that this matter hasn't had any affect on your grade, just some advice for next time.”

You nod shakily. Despite all of his reassurances, you are still very nervous. Partially because you wanted a good grade, partially because you had worked on that essay day and night with the intention of impressing him. So stupid.

He gives you a pleasant smile and rifles through his desk for a moment, pulling out what you quickly recognise as a printed copy of your essay, “Take a look, i want to see if you can figure it out first.”

“Um...okay…” You skip past the title page and into the meat of the essay, reading through all of your points and making sure there weren't any obvious spelling mistakes. There wasn't anything that you could see, “Sorry...um...what page is it on?”

His teacup clinks when he sets it down again, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest, your palms are getting sweaty, “It’s on the title page actually. I’m surprised you didn't notice it.”

You shoot him a quizzical look and flip back to the first page. Your stomach plummets.

Titles have never been your thing, summing up an entire essay in just a few words isn’t easy, so you usually use a placeholder right up until you submit it. You remember changing it, you remember triple checking it was changed before you emailed it through. But something must have gone wrong because in big bold capital letters, the title of you assignment reads:

ESSAY SO GOOD PROFESSOR KOMAEDA WILL FUCK ME OVER HIS DESK

Your hands are shaking, the edges of the paper crinkling under your tight grip. You are going to fail...you are going to be expelled...you are going to-

“Ah. I see you’ve realised your mistake, hm?”

Your head shoots up, forgetting for a moment that he is still sitting across from you.

“Professor...I-I’m...obviously I’m…” you can’t get out a goddamn sentence, your mouth has all dried up, “I don’t even...I can’t…”

You are taken aback, when Professor Komaeda giggles. It’s a light little sound, he covers his mouth with a hand, “You are very bold, aren’t you?”

“I….”

“No need to worry, I’m not reporting this to the dean or anything like that. I see no reason to expel you over a silly little mistake like this one.”

“You...You dont want me to drop you class?”

He laughs again, you shrink under the intensity of his green eyes, “I’m not going to make you, no. If the situation isn’t going to make it even harder for you to focus during lectures, you can still come to class. I won't stop you, it is your choice.”

He is being remarkably cavalier about all of this, it’s almost unsettling, but you don't want to drop his class so you can't help being grateful, “Thank you so much, I...I promise i won't do this again.”

Professor Komaeda hums aloud, eyes half lidded as he looks at you from across the desk, “Won’t do what again?” he asks, though honestly its more of a purr, “Won’t think about me fucking you, or wont make the mistake of writing it down?”

Hearing the word fuck drop from that perfect mouth of his sends you into overdrive. Your thighs are clamped so tight together that your legs are shaking, you can feel yourself breathing hard, “I...uh...I....” you swallow, “I won't do...either?”

“There's no need to lie to me.” He breathes, standing up from his chair and rounding the desk. You can feel yourself quivering in his shadow, he towers over you. Your breath catches in your throat when one of his hands makes contact with your chin, slowly lifting your head up until you meet his eyes. His expression is positively hungry, “I want to make something very clear. This is your chance to leave, if you do we will never speak of this again. If you don’t, well…”

All you can do is stare at him, mouth going dry with realisation.

“Your essay was very good, by the way.” He leans down until his nose is almost pressed against yours, you can smell the tea on his breath. You can feel the warmth of his skin, you can count his eyelashes, “Good enough that i’ll fuck you over my desk if you still want me to.”

In a moment of hungry lucidity, you grab him by the tie and tug his lips down to yours. Colliding in a positively ferocious kiss. You feel him laugh against your mouth before he slips his tongue in between your lips and traces your upper row of teeth, his tongue is wet and warm, your thighs are rubbing together as you grow desperate for any sort of friction. Professor Komaeda must be in a similar state, because he grabs you by the waist and tugs you up to your feet. Pressed firmly against him like this, you can feel the evidence of his arousal through his slacks, a moan escapes you when you feel his hips buck.

He laughs again, pulling away from your mouth to press a hot kiss to the side of your throat. You feel his long fingers toying with the hemline of your skirt, slowly slipping up underneath it, “These pretty little things…” he whispers, tugging on the top of your thigh high stocking and releasing it with a snap, “do you wear them for me?”

There’s no point lying anymore. You can’t stop shaking, “I...yes…”

You feel him moan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the join between your neck and shoulder, “Did you really think I wouldn’t take notice? Of the way you undress me with your eyes in class, of these tiny little skirts you started wearing?” He grabs a handful of your ass and you squeal, “you’re so gorgeous. You could have anyone in that class if you wanted, but here you are with me-“ he grinds up against you, cock warm and hard through his slacks, “-I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this.”

His voice is so soft and gentle, even while he’s palming your ass and grinding his hips against yours, he still talks like he’s giving a lecture on historical literature. It’s hot, how easily he is able to maintain his composure while you are little more than a quivering mess beneath him, but still...you want to see him come undone.

You hear more than feel your knees colliding with the wooden floorboards. Professor Komaeda is unable to give little more than a surprised look before you have his slacks and boxers shoved halfway down his thighs and his cock in your mouth. He lets out a shocked little moan, burying his long fingers into your hair as his hips stutter forward. Now that was the reaction you wanted.

“Oh...ohhhh-“ he whines, slowly moving himself in and out of your mouth as you tease his head with your tongue, “ahh...your mouth feels so good, angel.”

You were not expecting him to call you angel. It’s like a bolt of lightning to your cunt, your hands jump up the dig deep into the meat of his thighs as you moan downright salaciously around his cock.

“I can feel you moaning.” He whispers, “I can’t believe how much you’re enjoying this” you look up at him through your lashes and see his cheeks are red, his perfect lips are swollen from his biting them incessantly. You moan again just from the sight of him, he hisses and his hips cant forward deeper into your mouth, “wow. You...You really like doing this don’t you? Wrapping your perfect soft lips around my filthy cock?”

Filthy? That makes your eyebrows jump. You could always tell that your professor had some sort of inferiority complex, but you didn't realise it was...this intense.

“S’pretty.” You managed to slur around him, “Tastes good.”

He laughs again, it explodes from his mouth and shakes his shoulders. Unbridled, almost wild. He grins down at you, “I’m sure it doesn’t taste as good at you.” He purrs, tucking your hair behind your ear, “get up on the desk.”

Well, you weren’t going to say no to that. You give his cock one last long lick before standing back up from the floor, just before you hoist yourself up on the table, Professor Komaeda grabs you by the wrist, “Panties off, please.”

You feel yourself turn crimson, but dutifully shimmy out of your panties and let them drop to the floor. He smiles at you, hands curling around your waist as he leans into your ear, “that’s my girl.” He whispers, and lifts you up onto his desk. His hands are cold on the bare skin of your thighs peeking out from the top of your stockings, your stomach twists and curls as he slowly edges your legs open, and drops to his knees between them.

“Oh my god…” you squeak, he’s staring up at you with a look that is downright sinful and he doesn’t break eye contact, even when one of those perfect fingers slips inside you, “agh!”

He chuckles warmly, gently thrusting his finger in and out of you, “you’re so wet, angel...I can’t imagine why someone like me is making you so aroused, but I’m not complaining.”

His finger curls inside of you, and your hips jolt, “Mmph! Pro-Professor I-“

He smiles saccharinely as a second finger pushes its way inside you, “Nagito.” He corrects, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh, “We’re well beyond the need for formality. Don’t you think?” You cover your mouth to muffle a squeal as he adds a third finger. Your knees are wobbling and you can barely breathe, he’s just sitting between your legs and grinning at you, “Now let’s see if you taste as good as i imagine, hm?”

He pulls your clit in between his lips and sucks. You have to bite down on your hand to keep yourself from screaming, “F-Fuck...Nagito...I--hng!”

“It is after hours, you know.” He whispers, you can feel his breath on your cunt and you shiver, “There’s no reason for you to restrain yourself.” He licks your clit again and moans, “Haa...It may be selfish of me, but i want to hear you. If you’ll let me.”

“Oh god-” You hiss out when his tongue starts circling around you, “-keep doing that, and you’ll hear me alright.”

Nagito giggles and peers up at you, “Then I suppose I'll get back to work.” He hoists your thighs over his shoulders, and starts eating you out in earnest. You lean back on your elbows, and watch his soft white hair bob between your thighs as his tongue works it’s magic, he alternates between running the flat of his tongue up the length of you and focussing directly on your clit. Your toes are curling, mouth wide open with a constant stream of moans and whimpers that you have no hope of stopping. It feels so good, you had dreamt about this alone at night in your bed and even in those fantasies it hadn't felt this good.

His fingers slip out of you, but before you even have a chance to complain, they are replaced with his tongue. You moan so loudly that it rumbles through your chest, your hips rise up to meet his mouth and his hands curl around the soft flesh of your thighs, tugging you even closer. He groans. The wet muscle is slowly thrusting in and out of you when he presses down firm on your clit with his thumb, “I--mmph...Nagito m’gonna cum…” your hips are grinding relentlessly up against his face and you can feel your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat.

“Cum for me, angel.” He whispers, thumb rubbing your clit in brutal circles, “I want to feel you squeezing around my tongue.”

You throw your head back in a howl as his tongue slips back inside, the desk rattling with the force of your quivering hips. You can hear the slick sounds his mouth is making against your cunt, the way he is panting and moaning just from the taste of you. The tightness in your stomach grows unbearable, then he curls his tongue upward, and it snaps. You see whiteness behind your eyes, thighs shaking with the intensity of it. You can feel the vibration of Nagito’s moan inside of you and his fingers dig tight into the meat of your thighs. He’s enjoying your orgasm almost as much as you are.

When he finally pulls away from you, the lower half of his face is glistening with your wetness. He gives you a pleased smile, eyes half lidded as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean, “I knew you would taste good.” He whispers, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, “Think you can cum again, angel?”

Just watching him suck on his fingers is enough to get you going again, “Yeah, I definitely can.”

He laughs and stands up from the floor. His cock is flushed red and dripping, you suddenly realise he hadn't touched it that whole time, he must be painfully hard at this point. You lick your lips, you can't help it. He follows your line of sight and smiles, “Be a good girl and bend over the desk for me, please.”

You slide down off the desk, ready to follow his orders but quickly stop yourself, “Oh. One second.”

“Hm?”

You grab the teapot from the desk and quickly rest it on the windowsill, “Sorry. That was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right.” His hand slips up to your cheek, thumb resting on your lips. He smiles when you pull it into your mouth and suck, “I’ll have to thank you for saving my carpet. Unless you see any other hazards, i would still like to fuck you.”

That word again. It sounds doubly filthy when he says it, the way his lips mold around it is downright sinful. A shaky moan drops from your mouth as you turn around and do as he asks, your breasts are squished up against the sturdy wood, and the desk is a little too tall for you, your feet are dangling just above the floor. You’re shaking with anticpation, and it grows even worse when you feel the warmth of Nagito’s palm caressing your ass, “For my own peace of mind…” he whispers, his other hand running a finger up the length of your sex, “When do you graduate?”

You laugh, “It’s a little late for that, isn't it, Professor?” you feel his hand still on your ass and you clear your throat, “Uh, this is my last semester. A few months.”

He sighs pleasantly, “Ah, that’s good. This has been very fun, though i'm not sure we should do it again.” You feel the head of his cock kiss your entrance and hiss through your teeth, “At least...not for a few months.” You can hear the smirk on his face.

“I’ve waited this long.” You say, grinding backwards into his cock, “I can wait again.”

He leans down until his mouth is right beside your ear, “Good girl.” He whispers, and finally thrusts inside of you. It feels so good, he fills you so well. Your cheek is pressed firmly against the hard wood of the desk and a pathetic little mewl escapes your mouth at the feeling. You cunt already dripping from your last orgasm, you take him so easily, so smoothly. It feels like he is meant to be inside you.

You feel a hand on your lower back, pushing you further down onto the desk and Nagito hisses through his teeth. Pumping slowly and deeply inside of you, like he is savoring it, “You’re doing so well, angel. I--fuck...You’re so warm.” his breathing is laboured, the rhythmic sound of his hips hitting your ass is echoing around the room, “I still can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. I must be the luckiest man alive.”

“Please...more!” you whine, trying to force him deeper inside of you with the movement of your hips.

Nagito lets out a strangled moan and starts pounding faster, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to circle your clit, you cry out at the extra stimulation, toes curling inside of your shoes. The desk is shaking with the force of his thrusts now, there's a cute little statuette of a frog that falls down to the carpet with a clatter, but he doesn't stop.

“You feel so good, darling...I--I don't think i can-” a groan rips through him and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, “-you’re so good for...so perfect...I can't hold--ah ahh” he swallows, “Please, angel, i want to feel you cum again.”

You’re close, mouth raw from panting and moaning, legs going numb from behind suspended in the air. Then, the finger on your clit presses down firm and his cock grinds up against your g-spot. That is all you need, you come unraveling under him, the walls of your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, yes!” He cries, grabbing your hips and pounding you desperately, relishing in the feeling of your hot, tight cunt. Milking him dry, “Good, girl. So good for me.” Then, he cums, you feel his cock throb deep inside of you as his hips stutter and slow.

It is only now that you are hit with the realisation. You just fucked Professor Komaeda. Holy hell.

All you can do is lay there while he slowly pulls himself out of you. Wincing a little at the wierd feeling of emptyness. You manage to roll yourself over, laying flat on your back with your legs still dangling from the desk. Nagito laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you alright?”

You laugh weakly, “We’re going to get in so much trouble.”

“Not if no one finds out.” He tucks some of your hair behinf your ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’m very lucky with this sort of thing.”

“I just dont want you to get in trouble.”

He giggles, “That’s very kind of you, but this was as much my choice as it was yours.” he runs his fingers down your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “I meant what i said, about meeting up again.”

You manage to pull yourself up until you are sitting upright, you give him a sleepy smile, “Yeah, me too. I like you a lot.”

“How very sweet of you to say, angel.” He presses his forehead to yours and tangles your fingers together, “Let’s get you cleaned up now, hm? Can’t have you walking home like that”

To be honest, you aren’t sure you can walk at all.

____________________________

A few months later, you are sitting in the local cafe and applying for some jobs on your laptop. You did well on your final assessments and graduated with flying colours. It’s only a few more days before you need to officially move out of the dorms, and finding a new apartment (along with a job to pay for it) has not been easy so far.

You huff and push your hair back from your face. Your phone pings, and you ignore it. It’s been pinging for the past few minutes and you are not in the mood to check it. The job you are currently applying for made you retype all of the information in your resume even though you just uploaded it, and you are not happy.

The phone pings again and you groan, grabbing it and flipping it over. It looks like it’s just the group chat, as loud as always. As you go to close the message notifications though, you see one from about ten minutes ago that isn't from your group chat. Your heart is racing.

Hello!

I still have your number from when you asked for an assignment extension at the beginning of last semester. I hope you don't mind me using it. It’s been a few months, I'd like to see you again, if you wouldn't mind.

-Nagito

Oh shit. Your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. You had been so caught up in the job hunt and apartment hunt that you had all but forgotten about...this. You swallow and manage to force your shaky hands to type.

Oh hey!

It’s nice to hear from you. I’m free this weekend if you want to meet up, I still live in the dorms though, so it’ll have to be your place.

It's only about a minute before you get a reply.

Lol! I was thinking we could start with coffee, but I'm not going to lie and say i wasn’t hoping it would end up in my bedroom.

This weekend works for me. I can pick you up around 11?

You smile at your phone, cheeks turning crimson.

Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

You quickly update his contact details in your phone from Professor Komaeda, to Nagito <3.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #sdr2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #FILTH

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flourgirl · 3 years

Text

When The Party’s Over

Part II to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn x Reader

Summary: The closer that Peter gets to Gwen, the more he realizes how irreplaceable you are to him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A few curse words here and there.

A/N: There’s going to be a third and final part to this story, so if you’d like to be tagged in it, please shoot me an ask or a reply and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list. Hope you guys enjoy this new part and happy reading :-)

“Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standing out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go” -Where Do Broken Hearts Go, One Direction

It had been 17 days since you had last seen Peter and all you could do was sit in your favorite coffee shop and stare at all the muffins in the case. Peter loved muffins. His favorite flavor was banana nut, and usually the two of you would jam out to all of your favorite songs while you waited for them to come out of the oven.

“Y/N,” Betty said, snapping you out of your daze, “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at the pastries for, like, five minutes.”

MJ put down whatever book she had decided to read this week. “Yeah, if you want one, go for it. You deserve it. Here, I’ll pay.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded up $10 bill, dropping it onto the table in front of you, and returned to her book.

“You could get a slice of cheesecake,” Betty suggested. “I know how much you like the raspberry one from here.”

But all you could think about was how you wished Peter loved you the way that he loved those stupid banana nut muffins.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, crossing your arms and closing your eyes to take in the soft jazz music that was playing alongside the chatter of the café. “But I’m keeping the ten bucks.”

“Maybe it would help take your mind off of things if you met someone new,” MJ suggested without even looking up at you. It was honestly amazing how she could carry on a conversation while still being so engrossed in her book.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Betty agreed, “You’re so smart, and pretty, and you made all of the baked goods currently taking up lots of precious space in our kitchen.”

“You’re a stress baker,” MJ added. She was right. Over the past two and a half weeks since that night, you had baked three cakes, four pies, and seven different kinds of bread. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night you tried out the new focaccia recipe you had been eyeing.

“I don’t know, guys,” you said, slinking further down into your chair. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured you. “Take all the time you need. But we’re here for you, Y/N.”

And that’s how the rest of that day went. Lots of suggestions on ways to stop thinking about Peter and you shooting them down. No matter how Betty and MJ tried to make you feel better, your mind was stuck on the nine voicemails and thirty-two texts he had sent you saying how he was sorry for whatever he did and how he just wanted things to be normal again.

Except you didn’t want normal. You wanted him. You wanted his bad puns and the way his sweaters smelled when he let you borrow one. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know that he had broken your heart.

----------------

It wasn’t like Peter didn’t like Gwen. She was outgoing and confident, and he liked how it felt like she was always the center of attention. People wanted to talk to her, or sit next to her, or even have her know that they existed.

But she wasn’t anything like you, and the more time that Peter spent with her, the more apparent that became. She didn’t rant about reality TV or get so overwhelmed during public speaking assignments that the only way she could calm down was with a hug from him. In many ways, she was perfect. Except for the fact that she wasn’t you.

“We’re still on for Flash’s party on Saturday, right?” Gwen asked as she walked with Peter out of the lecture hall where they learned about vascular mechanics.

Honestly, Peter hadn’t even remembered that she had asked him to go to that until she brought it up just now. He was too stressed out wondering whether or not you’d ever speak to him again.

But what did he do to make you upset? He had promised that if you wanted to leave the party, you could tell him and the two of you would go. Except you never said anything. You just got up and left, without even saying goodbye. You hated him and it killed him to not know why.

Despite this, he wanted to be the good guy and not disappoint any more people, and so he took Gwen’s hand in his and said, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there.”

----------------

If someone had told you that you’d run into Harry Osborn in the middle of Arthur Avenue, you’d say they were crazy. And if that same someone said that you’d ask him on a date, they’d be even crazier. But somehow, some way, that’s exactly what happened.

You were on the way to interview a third-generation restaurant owner for your Italian class. You had never been very good at foreign languages, but you would use any excuse to take a trip to Little Italy. The nervous knots in your stomach from the possibility that they would only speak in a dialect that you couldn’t understand was worth it, because this little nook of the city was home to the best arancini in all of America.

To be honest, it seemed unbelievable that he’d be there, at that exact time, in that exact place to where you’d run right into him. You had been too busy reviewing the notes you had taken during the interview to see that you were on a direct path towards face planting into his torso.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, staring down at your notes scattered on the sidewalk at your feet. The guy you had just ran into kneeled down to gather them into a neat stack, handing them back to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, which caught you off guard. Who the hell was this? It wasn’t until you stared at his face for a few seconds that you recognized him. That guy that Gwen was with at the party. He looked a lot different in his button down and khakis compared to the sweatshirt and baseball cap he had on when you had first met him.

“Uh, hi. You’re Gwen’s friend, right? Henry.” You knew his name. You just didn’t plan on letting that you knew it.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry. Sorry about that, by the way. So, anyway, what brings you all the way down to Little Italy? It’s pretty far from campus,” he told you, as if you didn’t know that. I mean, you had walked all the way here, hadn’t you?

You shrugged, looking away from him. “I guess I could ask you the same thing.”

It was the first time in a while that someone wasn’t fawning over him just because he was rich. Honestly, it was really refreshing. “I asked first,” he noted, mimicking your crossed arms with a smirk.

Who does this guy think he is?

“Listen,” you sighed. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my apartment and finish up writing this essay that’s due at midnight.”

“So you’re taking Italian, I presume?” he asked, it suddenly becoming quite clear as to what you were doing on the other side of the city.

“Yeah. And let me guess, you were eating brunch at some fancy, expensive restaurant that your dad owns, drinking some $100 bottle of wine while some nerd you pay does your homework, huh?”

“No,” he laughed. “I was helping put together Thanksgiving dinner baskets for underprivileged families down at the soup kitchen.”

It was only then that you noticed how annoyingly handsome he was. Essentially, he was the male version of Gwen. Same blonde hair and preppy style that just screamed “I have a trust fund.”

“Of course. What, did you need a good photo op ever since the Daily Bugle ran that issue where they called you a spoiled playboy who loves to party?”

You had no intentions of entertaining him, especially since he was a friend of Gwen’s. The girl that had kissed Peter right in front of you, and pretended like she couldn’t remember your name. The girl that Peter was probably with right now.

“I’m not going to pretend like that wasn’t part of it, but believe it or not, I’m not actually as big of a selfish asshole as the papers make me out to be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I can tell by the cashmere sweater vest and leather loafers that you’re wearing that you’re so down to earth.”

There was an awkward silence, and Harry decided to change the subject before he pissed you off even more. But what he chose to mention next was the one thing on the planet that you didn’t want to talk about.

“So, uh, I guess your friend Peter is with Gwen now,” he started, which had somehow managed to make you dislike him even more than you already did. Sure, there was no way for him to know how you felt about the whole situation, but it still pained you to think about how you had become an afterthought to who you thought was the guy who would always have your back.

You blinked back at him, frowning. “Yeah, I guess so,” you muttered. And then there was another awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. It’s obvious I’m taking up some very precious time in your day,” he said, offering a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around campus.”

It suddenly dawned on you that you might have been just a little too hard on him. He seemed nice enough, even if you weren’t a big fan of the company he kept. Before you could even really think about it, you called out, “Wait!” and walked over to meet him when he had turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, nervously toying with the hem of your sweater. “I’m just in a really bad mood.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, although he wasn’t quite as confident as when the two of you had started your conversation. “We all have bad days. I hope yours gets better.”

“It could, if you’d let me buy you a coffee,” you said, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. Sure, it was nice to think that Peter would probably be upset once he heard that you had asked someone out and he knew nothing about it, but a small part of you was asking just because Harry Osborn seemed like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.

“Sure,” he answered back, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually perfect messy-but-not-too-messy state. “Have you ever been to Hungry Ghost in Brooklyn?”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s actually my favorite café! They have this really awesome grand piano in the middle of the room, and every Friday they have an open mic where anybody can sign up to play it.”

Your enthusiasm honestly surprised you. It was nice to have something to talk about that didn’t somehow involve Peter.

“Actually, I’m signed up to play tomorrow night,” Harry told you, “Do you like jazz?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. You loved jazz. “Definitely,” you confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, cool. Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you buy me a coffee if you come watch me play tomorrow night.”

“Deal,” you agreed, before turning back towards your apartment, all giddy with excitement to tell MJ and Betty about what had just happened.

----------------

“You probably didn’t know this, but Y/N’s been hanging out with Harry Osborn,” Ned said, walking into the common room wearing his “special” Hawaiian shirt, which Peter knew meant he was going someplace fancy. “They’re kind of dating.”

Peter looked up immediately from his linear algebra homework. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about what Ned had just revealed, but he didn’t know why. He was with Gwen, and if you wanted to date Harry Osborn, then you could. But still, he found himself being just a little bit jealous that some other guy was filling in for him.

“Oh,” Peter said, looking back down at his homework. He couldn’t focus anymore, so he just shut the notebook and threw it from where he was sitting on the top bunk onto his desk. “How long has that been going on?”

“Two days now, but they’ve been spending every minute together since. Betty said that they bumped into each other on the street and she just asked him on a date out of nowhere,” he replied, tying his shoes to go meet his girlfriend for date night. “I just thought I’d let you know, in case you saw them when you were out and got mad at me for keeping it from you.”

“Thanks, dude,” Peter sighed, lying on his back, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. Anytime, man. Now I gotta go. M’lady awaits,” he said. Peter didn’t even have to look to know that his roommate had just tipped his imaginary fedora.

Harry Osborn wasn’t even your type, Peter thought. You didn’t like guys as “pretty” as him, and you had always been more into brown eyes, not blue. So what was the appeal? His trust fund? Peter knew that you weren’t that shallow. It was just that, well, he couldn’t imagine you falling for someone like that.

You’re with Gwen, Peter kept reminding himself. So many guys would kill to be in your place. It wasn’t until he checked the time that he realized that he was actually about 20 minutes late to meeting her for the party. The stupid party at Flash Thompson’s tacky apartment that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

It was an understatement to say that Gwen was pissed when Peter knocked on her front door over half an hour late to the time they had agreed upon.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,” she complained, smoothing out her sparkly silver dress that caught the light just right when she moved.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, grabbing her hand as they walked down the street. “Uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

When they finally arrived at the party, the bowls of potato chips and mini pretzels were nearly empty. The floor was sticky, and Old Town Road boomed from the speakers in the living room.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter told Gwen, leaving her to greet all of her friends that had been waiting for her to show up.

As Peter wandered towards the keg, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Harry, and all the things that he didn’t know about your newfound relationship with some guy you had just met. He still didn’t know why he was so upset about it. He should be happy you had found someone you liked. In high school, all you ever talked about was finding the perfect guy, and if that was Harry Osborn, who was Peter to make a fuss about it?

But that didn’t stop Peter from filling up his plastic cup more times than he should’ve that night. It wasn’t until he was being dragged back to his dorm room by Gwen after puking on Flash’s couch that he realized what was wrong. He wanted to be that guy. The one who got to hold your hand and cuddle with you during scary movies. The one that got to love you and be loved by you.

----------------

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn

P.S.: Sorry to all the people I forgot to tag on this one! I didn’t know that when you answer asks privately, they go away from your inbox. Please shoot me another ask or reply to this post so I don’t miss you again!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x gwen stacy #harry osborn x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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not-reagan · 3 years

Text

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

#kpop #seventeen #stray kids #svt #skz #fanfic #guys i am so sorry #seungkwan #jisung #boo seungkwan #han #han jisung #a birthday gift #miyuuraiura #for you 💕#han jisung x boo seungkwan #jisung x seungkwan #han x seungkwan

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elektrae · 4 years

Text

Christmas is all around

a/n: Hello everyone. If you stumbled upon that fic, first of all: I am sorry. Second of all, I haven’t written anything other than essays in like 4 years, and this is my way to try to write fanfics again. I may be rusty, like a lot, and I apologize for that. Also, English is not my first language so again, I am sorry for any typo or weird sentences, I try my best skskjsj. Finally, did is my first Jason Todd fic ever (or DC fic, for that matter) so dont expect too much ig? Anyway, I just miss writing fanfictions so I’m gonna try to post some from time to time, even if they suck. That’s okay<3

Pairing: Jason Todd x y/n (she/her pronouns used, sorry about that)

Word count: 3,759

Warning: some drinking, too many paragraphs, slight cringe ig, uhm maybe some ooc Jason idk I’m not so sure about how I want to write him yet!

The title is from the cover Sleeping At Last did for their Christmas album, I was listening to it while writing.

“Tell me the truth now.”

You took the baking tray out of the oven, careful to not burn yourself as the dish towel between your hand and the tray was barely thick enough to protect you from the heat.

You hummed absent-mindedly, organizing the cooling cookies on the dish you decorated specially for the event. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt a pair of eyes on you, waiting for you to give a clue – anything, really– away. You took the final baking tray from your fridge and put it in the oven, closing it and putting the timer on twenty minutes.

“What have you planned?"

You let out a tired sigh as you turned around, going to a cupboard to grab a pack of chips and a bowl to pour them in. You carefully ignored the other person in the kitchen who was supposedly here to help you, but was rather doing an investigation of a new genre. Poking at your mind tirelessly was apparently more interesting than putting together a Christmas Eve’s eve party for your friends.

"Won’t you give up and help me with those?” You pointed at the appetizers that were already ready, then pointed at the empty table in the living room.

As to prove her previous point that she can do two and more things at the same time, I swear, Barbara grabbed two plates and moved over to said table. She mumbled a couple of indistinct sentences, but since she was finally helping, you let it slide and simply rolled your eyes at her antics.

“I just know”, she grabbed a plate of stick crudités with their condiments. “I just know”, she started again, “you’re plotting something and I don’t like it."

"I am most certainly not”, you scoffed loudly, putting a hand on your chest. “I have no idea, and I mean no”, you gave her a bowl of peanuts and she went back to the table, expertly avoiding several presents messily put on the floor, “idea why you would say that.”

“You have that glint in your eyes since I-”.

She stopped herself from finishing the sentence, but you could feel a smile coming back on your face. “Since you’ve told me you were desperately and hopelessly in love with the one and only-"

"If you finish this sentence I will embarrass you on every social media for the next decade”, she warned.

“-Dick Grayson.”

“I am not desperately and hopelessly in love with him.”

“Helplessly and irrevocably?” You tried, raising an eyebrow as you spare a glance her way and see her smiling despite your teasing.

She shook her head which prompted you to try new adverbs, as idiotic as they sounded. “Terribly and blissfully?"

"What does that even- you know what”, she shook her head and took the last plates and some decorations to put the final look on the table. “Why don’t we talk about you and our dear Jason?"

"Oh no, no, no, we don’t talk about this”, you yelled at the same time she was finishing her sentence, practically running after her while still being mindful of the dozen of glasses you were carrying in both your hands. “I am not the hot topic of discussion for this Christmas."

"Well you should, because you being into Jason is way more gossip worthy than my crush on Dick.”

“Well it’s my apartment, and I say I am not worthy of anyone’s attention, but you definitely are.”

“Not even Jason’s?” She laughed quietly as you avoided her gaze, keeping your attention on the glasses you were carefully putting on the table in a shape of a snowflake. Fuck it, it’s Christmas after all.

“Not even Jason’s”, you confirmed a few minutes later, but Barbara couldn’t ignore the tone of sadness in your voice.

*****

“Y/n, they are here”, Barbara yelled, drawing the ‘e’, right after the bell was rung.

“Coming!"

You heard new voices coming from the living room and you smiled to yourself as you put on your outfit for the night.

The bell rang once more, and more voices started to fill your apartment. Among them, you clearly recognized Dick’s as he told some joke, which was followed by Barbara’s laughter. Donna and Wally joined her as Roy added his own take on the joke. There was a quiet grumble you could without a doubt attribute to Damian, and three more voices you guessed, more than knew, were Tim’s, Steph’s and Conner’s entered the conversation.

After fixing your hair one last time, you came out of your room and walked towards your friends. Donna is the first one to see you and she immediately put you in a hug.

"Your apartment looks very nice”, Dick complimented you, hugging you sideways as he said so once Donna had let go of you.

“Barbara helped”, you informed him as you glanced at the key player of this whole thing, who was currently glaring daggers at you.

“I don’t doubt it."

Barbara blushed slightly at Dick’s comment. You resisted the urge to tease her a bit when you noticed her eyes shining with happiness.

"Well, blue is the new”, she stopped for a second, her eyebrows knitting together, “red, I guess?"

"Yeah, it works for Christmas, Babs”, Roy affectionately said as he ruffled her hair, earning an eye roll.

You watched with a knowing smile, as well as everyone else in the room but two persons, as Dick’s smile grew wider and his cheeks a little warmer. You wished these two could see just how much they meant for each other. But no, Richard Grayson and Barbara Gordon were two idiots. Two idiots who definitely needed a push in the right direction.

“Oh, by the way”, Roy caught your attention as he walked to the table to grab an appetizer, “Jason and Kory are swinging by later, they had a thing.”

“A thing, uh”, Steph wiggled her eyebrows in his direction making Tim and Conner choke on their drinks they shouldn’t have already.

Barbara sent an apologetic look your way but you simply smiled back, grabbing two bottles of Champagne from the fridge.

“Who’s ready to party?"

*****

You made your way towards the kitchen to grab more appetizers and a new pack of chips. You smiled as Stephanie and Cassandra were lively talking near the Christmas tree, pointing at various presents. Damian was clearly starting to enjoy the night as Jon, who Clark had dropped off half an hour ago, was showing him a new toy Lois had bought him mere days before Christmas.

You stopped dead in your tracks when your eyes landed on Dick who was observing a customized Christmas decoration. One that has been created by Barbara, a deep blue bird with mechanical wings that fluttered every so often. He had the cheesiest smile on his face and he kept swinging the bird with his right hand. As he stood under the threshold of the kitchen, right above his head was one of the two mistletoe branches you had put in your apartment.

Just as the doorbell rang for the umpteenth time this night, you sprung towards the door, unwilling to let this great opportunity go to waste.

"Babs, could you grab a new pack of chips please?” You sent her a warm and what you hoped was an innocent smile. “I’ve left some on the countertop!”

“Alright”, she replied, excusing herself from Donna and Wally. Once you reached the door, you discreetly pointed at Dick who was right on Barbara’s way. A knowing look was shared before you finally opened the door, barely registering the people in front of you.

“Hey”, you greeted the two new guests, glancing back and forth between them and Dick and Barbara who were currently having a nice conversation if your eyes weren’t to lie. “Nice to see you could make it! Roy said you’d be held back for a while.”

“Sorry about that”, Kory smiled a little for an unknown reason. “We did our best.”

“It’s fine! Please, just come on in.” You opened the door a little wider to let both her and Jason walk in.

“So, is something going on?” Kory asked after several seconds of you being oblivious to Jason’s stare on you.

“Well”, you waved in the general direction of your friends having a conversation under the mistletoe near the kitchen, “I think something is working there, don’t you think?”

“Did you set them up?” Jason’s question sounded a lot more like an accusation, but you didn’t really mind at this exact moment.

You turned your head to reply to him but, before you could open your mouth everyone around you started cheering loudly, making you whip around right when your eyes locked with Jason’s.

There, under the mistletoe by your kitchen, Dick and Barbara were finally kissing, smiling through it.

“Tim, you owe me 20 bucks here”, Steph yelled over the clamor and Tim clearly huffed loudly at that, although the smirk on his face was still present.

“Same over there Wally, and you too, Roy”, Donna added while collecting the money both men already had put out from their pockets.

“Jason”, you could hear the smile in Kory’s voice as she turned to Jason, her hands awaiting the bank bills. “I believe I get something too?”

“Did you all bet money on us?” Dick eventually said, catching everyone’s attention.

“Anyway, more champagne?”, you changed the subject after a couple of minutes of silence and glances exchanged between everyone.

A chorus of “yes please” and two “orange juice, please” was your answer and you swiftly walked to the kitchen, Barbara following close behind from the moment you walked past her.

“Proud of you?”

“Mad at me?” You shot back, the smile apparently ever so present on your face.

“No”, she confessed, her voice as close as what someone could expect Barbara’s dreamy voice to be. “I could have done it without the help though.”

“I don’t doubt it”, you put three new bottles of the bubbly alcohol in your fridge as you grabbed the last two. “But I wanted the girls to have their money.”

“Makes sense”, she blocked your way, letting you know something else was going on. “Now, about you and a certain someone-”

“Nu-uh”, you waved a bottle in front of her face, “I am not stealing your thunder tonight.”

“Or ever”, she mumbled but you decided to ignore her.

“This is your night.”

“It’s also supposed to be a Christmas party”, Tim chimed in, pushing his glass in front of him, expecting you to pour him a new one. You gently grabbed it before filling it with water, handing it back to the younger man. He gave you a face before chugging it, awaiting once again the champagne. “Are we gonna open those presents or what?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Presents time everyone!”

*****

People were slowly filling out of your apartment with new gifts falling from their arms.

You waved bye at them as you slowly picked up the wrappers that littered your floor. You simply wanted to throw away everything you could and had already put the plates and glasses in the sink, so you wouldn’t have to do it the morning after, on Christmas Eve, while being slightly hungover and way too tired.

You heard the door shut close behind whoever left last. You went to open the window of your living room to let in some fresh air. Picking up some used napkins from the table, you put them in the trash as well, trying not to make too much of a mess.

“You forgot this one.”

The voice startled you and you spun around, smashing the trash bag into whoever was standing behind you. Some wrappers and napkins you had just put inside the bag flew out, landing all around you.

“Wow.”

“Oh, my god, Jason”, you let go of the trash bag and your hands immediately went to his torso, wanting to make sure you hadn’t hurt him. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Fine, fine”, he mumbled back, pushing your hands away a second too late to be considered an outward rejection or anger of any kind. “Can I help?”

“Oh, no, no”, you shook your head and went to stop him. “Go get some sleep. You’re gonna need it for tomorrow dinner.”

“Tomorrow dinner?”

“Christmas dinner?” You raised an eyebrow and waited for him to realize what you were talking about. “Alfred insisted you had to come this year, if I remember correctly.”

“How d'you know that?”

“I was there when you got Alfred’s call?”

“Right”, he drawn out. “Don’t think I’m going anyway. Might as well help you.”

“Oh no”, your hands went on your hips and you stood your ground, not letting him move. “You are going. Alfred would murder you. And”, you picked up the bag from the ground, but didn’t look away from Jason. “You’re supposed to spend Christmas with your family.”

“Are you?”

“It isn’t about me here.” You took several napkins and wrappers in one hand and stood back up, waving them in your friend’s face. “You’re gonna spend Christmas with your family and that’s final. Now go get some sleep.”

He slowly crossed his arms over his chest, giving you a strange look as you kept picking up the mess you had made mere moments earlier. “I’ll go if you let me help you.”

You stopped in your tracks and slowly raised your head, finally locking eyes with him. You weren’t sure how much of what he was telling right now was true, but you knew he had to go spend Christmas with his family. He needed this, whether he knew it or not. Their relationship was getting better by the day, this much was true, and you didn’t want any party, but especially not Jason, to be hurt. “Alright but, I’m warning you dude, you better be in bed in one hour tops.”

With a shrug, Jason walked to your sink and opened the tap, letting the water flow on the dishes. He grabbed the sponge and started doing the dishes, not saying much more.

“So, Dick and Barbara. Your plan, uh?” He broke the silence as you were sweeping your apartment, the cleaning getting a little out of hand without you realizing.

“Well, it was obvious they were into each other, you know”, you moved the couch back towards the wall and kept sweeping your place. “It was bound to happen, you know.”

“You did it for Steph.”

“And Donna”, you laughed and spared a glance his way. He was currently drying all he had just washed. “They’re gonna give me fifty percent of what the guys just gave them.”

“Uh, didn’t think you were after money like that.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with you?” You winked at him over your shoulder, now sweeping under the table.

“Makes sense. Although, I kept telling Roy it was because of my amazing cooking skills”, he put the last glass in the cupboard, closing it while he turned around, looking in your direction. “I know my pastas are to die for.”

“That”, you grunted slightly as you moved the table a little, putting it back into its original place, “they are.” You let out a breath and took a small pause. “Pasta and money. The basis of all healthy friendships.”

Jason let out a raspy laugh, one that took you by surprise. It was a contrast with how quiet he had been all evening. Your smile grew wider and you desperately tried to hide it as you crouched down to collect the dust in the dustpan. You put the dust in the trash bag before tying it and putting it on the small balcony, closing the French window as you stepped back inside.

“Time you go to sleep”, you went to the kitchen, looking around you to make sure everything was more or less clean. You would finish in the morning anyway. “Get your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you finished here?”

“Yep! Going to sleep until twelve, probably.”

“Alright. D'you know where I put my keys?”

“Countertop, the cup”, you dismissively said as you poured some water in a glass. You turned around just in time to see Jason swaying a little as he made his way to the other side of the countertop. “Alright buddy”, you ran after him, putting a hand on his arm before he could reach the keys. “You are not driving home.”

“I remember you telling me to get some sleep?” You could see the tiredness catching up with him as the alcohol left his system. You wondered how much he had drunk and, most importantly, what had made him drink that much tonight. Jason was a close friend, you had hung out together numerous times. You had seen him drink a lot more than you or even Dick or Kory, and he never had been in this state.

“Well, you’re gonna have to get some sleep here.” You locked the door before leading him to the couch, on which you pushed him down. “I’m not letting you go out there.”

“Alright, mom.”

You scoffed loudly, leaving him there with a roll of your eyes. You went to your room to grab a blanket, a pillow and Jason’s spare bag he had left one day, you couldn’t exactly recall when. To be fair, many of the local heroes had been dropping spare bags at your place throughout the years. You made a stop in the bathroom to grab a box of painkillers in case he woke up before you did.

As you walked down the small corridor that connected the living room and kitchen to the rest of your apartment, you bumped into a hard chest. You raised your head a little to meet Jason’s gaze, and you could feel his hands on your hips as he stabilized you so you wouldn’t fall down. You know it was just a reflex for him, but you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster.

“Was wondering where you went”, he mumbled.

“Blanket, pillow, your spare clothes and”, you raised the hand holding the box of medicine in front of his eyes, “this, for the morning.”

“Oh, thanks. You didn’t have to”, you let out a quiet chuckle as he looked around him. You didn’t see him freeze as his eyes landed on what was just above the two of you.

“If I don’t want Alfred and Dick chastising me, yes I did”, you laughed loudly this time, still unaware of both your predicament. “That’s the least I could do, you know. Sorry you have to sleep on the couch, still don’t have a spare room."

"There’s mistletoe."

You hummed quietly, prompting him to explain himself further as you took off some dust from the blanket, holding the painkillers between your chin and chest.

"We’re right under the mistletoe.”

“Oh.”

You stopped what you were doing and let the box of medicine fall on the blanket to finally look up. There, unmistakable, was a branch of mistletoe.

“Oh yeah, forgot to take that one off”, you said under your breath. “You can just ignore that, let’s get you to bed.”

“Well, tradition is tradition”, countered Jason, finally looking at you.

“Sure, but we don’t have to”, you smiled warmly at him, trying to ignore the glint of what your mind discerned as sadness in his eyes. “I put them up mainly for Babs and Dick. And for, you know”, you shook your head a little, “everyone else, so they had an excuse to go at it.”

“Still, tradition is tradition, so”, he trailed off after that, looking at something just above your head.

“Okay."

You took a step closer to him, or at least as much as you could considering what you were carrying at the moment. You went on your tiptoe and, without giving it too much of a thought, you pecked Jason’s cheek, your lips lingering a moment too long on his skin.

"Alright buddy, now let’s get you to bed."

You gently grabbed his wrist and tugged him so he would follow you back in the living room. You tried as best as you could to ignore the fact that he was staring at you with something you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. You set the pillow down on the couch after making sure it was as comfortable as possible.

"Okay, take off your shoes and whatever, I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“I can get it."

"Focus on undressing yourself!"

You jogged to the kitchen, pouring some water from the tap in a glass and in a bottle. Not even two minutes later, you came back to set them on the coffee table, right next to the painkillers.

"Right so everything’s here”, you looked at Jason who was now lying on the couch, in nothing but his underwear, his right arm shielding his eyes from the light. “You know where everything else is. Your phone’s on the countertop where you left it. Sleep tight”, you finished, putting the blanket over his body.

“Hey”, his voice stopped you right as you were about to turn the lights off. “You should come home with me tomorrow. For this Christmas Eve dinner. It would be more bearable with you there."

"Jason”, you sighed and leaned on the wall on your left. “It’s a family dinner. Plus”, you pushed yourself off the wall, your hand hovering above the switch, “I doubt Bruce would be happy if I were to crash. Or Alfred, for that matter.”

“Pfff”, he turned his head so he would watch you, “Alfred loves you, he’d be more than happy. And he always cooks too much. As for Bruce, I don’t really care about what he has to say.”

“Well, I do.”

“You shouldn’t."

"Alright tell you what”, he straightened up a little so he could focus on your words better. “If tomorrow, when you’re not drunk nor hungover, you can assure me I won’t be be a bother during this dinner, I’ll come.”

“What, I just gotta call Alfred and tell him you’re coming? Deal!” He lied back down, eyes closed as a small smile played on his lips. “He’s gonna take care of Bruce.”

“We’ll see”, you laughed as you finally turned the lights off, leaving Jason in the living room as you walked towards your room, ready to drop on your bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #jason todd one shot #jason todd fanfiction #my writing #dc imagine #jason todd #*writing

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ohstardust · 4 years

Text

Stubborn Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: “You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” AU. Inspired by this post. Words: 1.1k A/N: I’ve barely been able to write in months but suddenly I was stuck with the inspiration to write this after leaving my Beck fic unfinished again for the evening. Apologies for any mistakes, I’m barely awake.

Please let me know what you think, and as always, reblogs are acts of kindess. Title: Stubborn Love by The Lumineers

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Bucky hadn’t expected the kitchen light to be glowing at 1am as he trudged through the hallway to grab a glass of water. He’d been finishing up his essay notes ahead of taking the plunge and making a start on it in the morning, and all he wanted was a drink, a snack and an episode of The Office to unwind with. He knew full well he’d be wide awake if he contemplated trying to sleep when he was still so wired on swirling thoughts, and ideas, for what he wanted to say and highlight in his assignment.

He stretched as he let out a small yawn and scratched his tummy. That was odd, the light was still on, books and paper and an assortment of pens and highlighters were scattered across the breakfast island but there was no one in sight. With a sigh and the shake of his head, he pulled a glass out of the cupboard and ran the cold water until is was cool enough to drink.

Soft footsteps padded through the apartment and into the kitchen, a small squeak escaped his roommate and he glanced up, eyes apologetic.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted this,” he raised his glass and smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, sorry Buck, I didn’t realise you were still up, I guess I got a bit carried away in here.” She took her seat back at her makeshift desk and tried to make some sense of the documents laid out before her. Bucky wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, he remembered seeing her there sometime after dinner but that had been hours ago, he didn’t know how she was still functioning, especially because she hadn’t eaten with him and their other two flatmates.

“Have you um- have you eaten anything? Do you want a drink?” He offered, feeling concerned for his friend, the dark circles under her eyes looking more prominent than ever, and her soft and usually fresh looking face, looked exhausted.

“I think I ate - actually no, I completely forgot to eat. I’ve been so busy trying to cram for my final exam on Tuesday. I lost track of all time.”

“Will loaded nachos do the trick for you? And a juice? I know soda’ll upset your tummy this late at night, and I flat out refuse to give you coffee at this hour,” her eyes widened and she pouted at the idea of her coffee being withheld, “sweetheart it’s for your own good, you need to sleep sometime tonight.”

She sighed, he was right, he was always right, he knew just what she needed and he knew her tells like the back of his hand, maybe that’s what living together and being friends for four years taught you, “Sure, nachos and juice sound amazing, thanks Bucky.”

His chest tightened and his stomach fluttered at the sleepy smile she gave him, her head propped up on her palm and her hair all disheveled, no doubt from her stress and concentration, fingers raking through it as he’d seen so often before.

Bucky couldn’t refrain from sneaking glances at her every so often as he busied himself with making food, her tongue peeking out as she highlighted passage after passage, different coloured sticky notes pinpointing different aspects and topics to make the revision easier for her. Every other minute she’d yawn wide and slink further into her oversized hooded sweatshirt.

“C’mon, at least eat some of this before you fall asleep on the counter top.” Bucky placed a plate in front of her, piled high with tortilla chips and cheese and toppings and returned a moment later with a tall glass of orange juice. He grabbed a stool from beside her and set it directly opposite her on the other side of the counter.

He watched as she plucked a few chips from the plate, the cheese stringy and splitting off, but quickly diverted his gaze when she put the food in her mouth. He was always toeing on the edge of fear when it came to her, always worried that he was watching too much, too eager, too interested. She grinned and groaned a little, “Bucky Barnes, you’re my hero.”

Bucky could have died right there and then but he shook it off, content with her being content, and snatched a few chips for himself before he said something stupid or overstepped.

She pulled one knee up and rested her foot on the stool, constantly trying to find a new position to be comfortable in for a few minutes as she read another paragraph or two. Her bobbled and faded flannel pyjama pants were a comfort to her and she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the material.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous for this exam, I know all of this, I’ve worked hard, I’ve studied hard for four years, I should be calm about this.”

“It’s your final, it makes sense to be nervous, it’d be weird if you weren’t. But you’ll do amazing, you know you’ll ace it, you’re you.”

“I guess. You’ve always had so much faith in me. Don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

“Like I said, you’re you.”

She lifted her head and once again rested her head on her hand to look over at him, eyes scanning his messy, fluffy hair, soft yet piercing eyes, his favourite shirt that had so many holes in it it couldn’t even be classed as vintage anymore. Her breath caught as she caught his unwavering gaze, the intensity and kindness, like a magnetic pull that drew her to him and vice versa. The late night-early morning, sleep deprived haze heightened every look, sound, intake of breath, brush of fingers, like nothing around them existed, just the two of them inhabiting this bubble.

“And you, you’re you too Bucky, my favourite you.”

He huffed out a laugh and rubbed his palm over his face to shake him from the moment, “I think you need some sleep.”

“You too,” she let out a massive yawn, the motion taking over he whole face and she chuckled softly, “think we can cuddle tonight?”

“Am I supposed to pretend it didn’t happen tomorrow?”

“No, I want it to happen again tomorrow. And the day after that.”

“Can’t argue with that, c’mon, let’s get you to bed darlin’.” He gathered up all of her mess into a neat pile and pushed it to the side out of the way, depositing their left over plate into the sink and wrapped his arm around her exhausted body, leading it towards his room and flipping the light off as they went.

Under the cosy blankets and wrapped around each other - Bucky feeling light and giddy yet unsure if this meant what he thought, or hoped, it meant - in a tiny exhausted voice, he barely heard her say, ”wanna cuddle with you forever Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky let out a long exhale and grinned into her hair, “Me too, sweetheart, me too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes reader fic #bucky barnes au #marvel au

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Read Into Me Chapter 3: The Scarlet Letter

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Word Count: 4,420

Warnings: Bad grades, swearing, anxiety, bullying

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @bajino-in-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @t0rmenta0 @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie

Steve arrived first to Mr. Lawrence’s homeroom, his paper shoved to the back of his notebook. He was happy to have the distraction of Vicki and Tina jabbering at him. He didn’t want to think about his paper. English wasn’t his best subject, but he could hide it from his peers when it was just the teacher and him going back and forth on essays, him writing and them marking. Now, somebody was going to know that he wasn’t good at this. Nancy knew, of course, and while she didn’t say it she always seemed a bit judgemental over his lack of essay writing skill. She was good at everything; it made him feel like he was in good hands when they were together, like they both had something to offer. Apart, it made him feel stupid and secondary, like he was awful at everything. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what he had even offered to that relationship, looking back he couldn’t understand why he thought he was worth anything in a relationship at all.

When he sat down, the desk next to him was empty. Steve wasn’t usually early to class, so he was a bit relieved to not see you there. Maybe he could avoid the eminent roasting of his work.

You got to school late. You were absolutely drenched from head to toe. You had walked to school that day, and a sudden rainstorm hit you halfway through, soaking you before you could make it to the building. To make it worse, you’d decided to wear white for the first time in forever. You rushed to your locker in the hopes to change and luckily you’d left a stained sweatshirt there from the previous semester. You’d pushed your wet hair up and away from your face and rubbed away the bits of black eyeliner that had flaked down you cheeks. You looked like shit and you knew it. It was turning into a less than successful morning. You hadn’t even had a chance to look in your locker mirror once you’d changed. You were already late enough for class and didn’t need the write up. You rushed to your English class.

Everyone turned their attention to the doorway when you opened it. You hurried to your desk, keeping your head down and ignoring as Vicki and Tina laughed. You heard Tina say “She looks like a drowned rat.” But you chose to pretend that you didn’t. You were freezing; Hawkins High turned off the heating system mid-March and left the school to stew in whatever weather the state was dealing with to save the county a few bucks a month.

Steve slid his paper onto your desk, keeping his eye on the front of the room as Mr. Lawrence took up attendance. He’d written on the board in chalk ‘how to peer edit’ in thick block letters. You weren’t exactly enthused by the topic, but you were glad to have the dull class to doodle instead of actually listening. You flipped the paper in front of you, looking over Steve’s chicken scratch without really taking in any of the information. You slid it into your trapper keeper, passing Steve your own typed copy of the assignment. You’d made sure to keep the original at home, edited just in case Steve didn’t give you any edits. You left in some mistakes so he could get a grade, but you didn’t want to have to rely solely on him.

You flipped open your sketchpad slowly, keeping your eye on Tracy Lords curly mess of hair piled high on the top of her head like Medusa’s snakes trapped in a golden laurel, or in this case a braided headband. You pulled your graphite pencil from the pink pencil bag you’d sewn in freshman year home-ec. You started with the shape, trying to capture the exact strangeness pile, making little tight curls in the centre of the oval and spiralling in all directions. You felt a pair of eyes on your neck and you turned to see Steve staring over your shoulder. You pulled yourself and the pad inward, trying not to blush. You didn’t like people looking at your art; you hardly showed your work to anyone, even Samantha. All of your drawings sat in their pads, which piled up as the years went by, untouched and forgotten. If Samantha wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of her, Steve Harrington was certainly not allowed a peak.

“Alright, today if you and your partner are ready to begin, we’ll start editing our papers. If you aren’t ready, that’s fine but today is the only day that we’re doing in class editing so I would spend today trying to finish up so you can at least pass your papers on.” Mr. Lawrence explained. You sighed, closing your pad and pulling Steve’s essay from your trapper keeper.

“Now, we want to look for not only spelling and grammar problems, but also sentences that don’t make sense and confusing details within the essay. It’s not about how many big words you can use, it’s if you can accurately and dynamically give your reader information.” Mr. Lawrence explained. He took to the board, writing key points for his marking, specifically to edit in pen and give a letter grade for the paper.

Tina’s hand shot up “You want us to grade the paper? Isn’t that your job?” she asked, smacking her gum violently. Vicki snickered into her palm, reddish brown hair away from her face.

Mr. Lawrence shook his head “No no, I’m not taking your grade on the papers into consideration for my grade, instead I want us to give each other grades to mark the progress of an essay, to give your partner an idea of what the paper might be worth. It’ll be up to them as to whether or not they are comfortable with the grade or if they want to improve.”

You didn’t like that. Who the hell wanted their classmate grading their paper? This was a recipe for disaster. You uncapped your red pen with your teeth, chewing on the lid nervously. You looked over the page. You had made up your mind that you’d be nice. You’d want Steve to be nice to you. It was the least you could do.

But it only took a few lines to understand that this was not a good paper. Spelling and grammar mistakes galore, run on, confusing sentences, no clear subject. It wasn’t even a good story, hell it wasn’t even an essay it came off more like a point form list. As you added more and more red ink to the black, white, and blue it started as. The paper started to become a Jackson Pollack more than a lame essay for an English class, it almost felt beautiful instead of shitty to destroy his essay. It was as though you were turning into art.

Out of curiosity, you looked over at your paper to see how it was fairing. Steve was, as expected, chatting up Vicki from across the aisle, and he’d made two corrections on your page, both small mistakes you’d left in. You rolled your eyes, a pit of annoyance making itself known in the centre of your stomach, as bitter as the cyanide in a peach pit. You made your last two corrects before scrawling a large ‘D’ at the top of the page and initialling next to it.

You flipped the paper over and pulled back out your sketchpad and brought it close to your chest, pulling your knee up to your chest and adding more curls to the back of Tracy Lords’ head, then focusing in on the braided headband until the bell rang. You flipped your pad closed and slid Steve’s essay back to him, quickly putting your stuff away.

“You mind if I take this home and give it to you tomorrow?” Steve asked, waving your essay in front of your face, nearly giving you a paper cut on the bridge of your nose.

You pushed the paper away, squinting up at him. “Yeah, whatever…” you replied, turning away from. You didn’t feel bad for giving him a bad grade now. He was still a dick head. “Don’t forget your paper.” You added, quickly making your way into the halls. You didn’t usually have the confidence to be snarky with anyone you didn’t trust, but something told you that you could handle Steve Harrington. Maybe it was just how awful his essay was, you felt like you could talk your way out of a fight.

Samantha grabbed your arm as you left the room, the pair of you thankful to have the same lunch period every other day. You hurried into the cafeteria. You knew well enough that she was on the prowl, eyes scanning the room for a certain figure.

“I think the band’s practising today, dude.” You said, taking an extra tray for Samantha and getting her serving of lumpy mashed potatoes and chicken surprise slopped on the plate. Samantha was looking for Robin Buckley, a junior on her soccer team who had drawn her attention as of late, and had been trying to get closer to her as of late, inviting her to join them for lunch every time she saw her and leaving you to third wheel.

“Yeah, probably.” She replied, taking the tray you held out for her and paid for her meal. “So, how’d talking sweet, sexy assignments with King Harrington?” Samantha crooned, batting her eyelashes up at you.

You rolled your eyes “Well, for one, we don’t talk period, and for another it’s fucking awful.” Taking your places at the table closest to the emergency exit, you settled into your routine of trying to choke down the awful cafeteria food. You grabbed your trays and had them filled with whatever horrific concoction the lunch ladies had come up with that day. You carried your grey and brown mushy mess to your table, a small four seater near the edge of the room, out of view from the popular assholes who liked the throw food.

“Oh? Is that what makes it awful? Not getting to enjoy the charming conversations he has to offer?” Samantha was trying hard not to laugh. Watching you squirm was hilarious.

“More like because I have to read his writing…” you replied. You jabbed your fork into what was supposed to be pot roast, but seemed to be ninety percent instant gravy and ten percent meat from an undetermined animal.

“Since when are you such a snob?” Samantha’s mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but the words rang clear.

“Since I spent my morning reading absolute dog shit about a vacation to Miami beach. It was pathetic! I mean, and I’m no critic, but if you’re going to write me an essay on your vacation, can you at least make it interesting?” you ranted. The more you talked about how awful it was the angrier you got about it. You spent so long on art and creating, you spent your time working hard and for someone to slide through life made your blood boil.

Steve didn’t usually spend his free time searching through the cafeteria for people, people usually found him. Tommy and Carol had already motioned him over, their new friend Billy already gone somewhere else, and Vicki and Tina had called for him to join them, but Steve had to handle something first. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, he wasn’t certain he’d find it in there, but there wasn’t any shame in searching. He would ask someone for directions, but it seemed that nobody knew or cared where you were at any time.

You gave him a ‘D’. A god damned ‘D’! He was flummoxed, he thought his essay was shit, he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but he had expected you to be a bit kinder. That was like the unexpected rule of everyone in the class, to grade on the curve. But you went in hard. All he wanted was some answers.

He saw first a flash of pencil stained hands in the air, then the shine of your hair under the florescent lights. You were talking with your hands, making Samantha Cameron laugh hard. He’d never seen you that animated, it made him smile for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

He chuckled, coming up behind you in the hopes that your ease would stick around if he didn’t announce his presence. “You really gave me a D on my paper? What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.

Apparently, you really couldn’t smile when he was around. Both you and Samantha’s smiles dropped, your punky friend dropping her gaze as you were forced to turn around. “Oh…um…well I mean it…maybe I need to look it over again, I was probably being too harsh…” you stuttered, unable to keep yourself from burning up. You prayed that he hadn’t heard what you were saying. That would’ve been awful.

“Hey, it’s cool, the paper’s no good, it’s no big deal.” That was a lie of sorts, when Steve saw the big red ‘D’, his heart dropped. And he really didn’t believe that you were as innocent as you seemed. You seemed guilty over something.

“Well…I’m sorry anyway. I didn’t mean to bother you…” you apologized. You hoped he’d go away; you’d never been more uncomfortable around a person than Steve Harrington. You didn’t know why, but something about him made gave you more butterflies than other people did, he scared you for reasons you couldn’t quite understand.

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry.” Steve chuckled awkwardly. You wouldn’t look him in the eye, it was throwing him off. “So, listen, I don’t want to fail this class,” he huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck “Could you maybe help me rewrite this thing?”

You looked to Samantha, unsure if you could even speak words anymore, but she was smirking into her pot roast. Absolutely no help at all. You tried to smile “Um…sure, I can’t promise I’ll be much help though…” your voice was hoarse and unsure of itself. You hated that you’d said yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. What if he got mad? Or yelled at you? You couldn’t handle being ridiculed or yelled at, you’d die.

Steve chuckled “Any help I can get is good enough. I can meet you in the library after school, okay?” he said, turning his gaze to Tommy’s hollering from across the cafeteria. He waved him over with both hands, like a sailor on a sinking ship, trying to beckon Steve back to where he belonged. Steve nodded, holding up his index finger, he only needed one minute.

“Sure, yeah that’ll work.” You said, fiddling with a thread hanging from the edge of your grey sweatshirt. You’d painted a little pink flower on the inside of the sleeve. When Steve saw it, he couldn’t help but smile at it; it looked so sweet and earnest.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He left after that, heading over to Tommy, who was frustrated beyond belief. He took his seat easily, stealing the pudding cup off of Carol’s tray wordlessly.

“What did that freak want?” Tommy asked loudly, his eyes blown wide. Carol was painting her nails, not even bothering to look up from her work. Tommy made no attempts to hide his dislike of you. He’d expected his best friend since the second grade to feel the same.

“She’s nice, we’re doing an assignment together.” Steve replied with a shrug, pulling the plastic covering off the cup, sticking the plastic spoon into the vanilla pudding.

Across the room, Samantha grabbed onto your hands with a giddy grin. “Look at my little girl! She’s got plans, with a boy!” she squealed, swinging your arms back and forth over the table.

“Jesus, can you please stop acting so straight? You’re gonna scare Robin off.” You yanked your hands away, watching with a grin as she turned her attention back to looking around the room excitedly. You let your eyes find Steve in the cafeteria, the buzz of fear filling your ears. You couldn’t believe that you agreed to meet him anywhere. You wanted to disappear.

You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Your mind had gone into a feral sort of panic mode, pumping fear through your veins and turning your palms cold. When the final bell rang, it took all your strength and courage to not run all the way home. You knew that if you didn’t show, the problem wouldn’t go away. You’d just have to deal with the results of ditching the next day, and if not done now, then you’d have to deal with it another day. You clutched your books tight to your chest, sitting on the bench outside the library, trying to keep the butterflies from bursting out of your mouth. Your hands kept coming to your hair, trying to fix it or keep it away from your ears, maybe just to comfort yourself. It had dried weird and you worried that it looked ridiculous.

You saw his shoes come up to yours before you saw his face, royal blue Adidas with white and red details and dirty laces. You noted your own dirty white Converse, marked with mud and lyrics to songs that Samantha wrote on the toes. “Hey, you ready to do this?” Steve asked. You looked up and nodded, swallowing hard.

You wouldn’t make eye contact with him again. It was really starting to freak him out. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it seemed like you really didn’t like him. Still, you’d agreed to help him and he wouldn’t take that for granted. He’d read your essay twice and it was good. He didn’t know much about good writing, but he knew that Mr. Lawrence would like it, that it would get a good grade. And he wanted decent grades too, so he could get into college and get his dad off his back.

The Hawkins High library was fairly quiet after school, most students headed back home or to after school clubs. Only a few stragglers remained, mostly using electric typewriters and returning books to poor Mrs. Mueller, who always kept the library open till four, waiting for her husband, the head of custodial staff, to finish his work. She smiled at you when you walked in. Mrs. Mueller was a nice woman who let you sit in the library during lunch and always checked in on you when you seemed alone. She was your favourite teacher, despite never having a class taught by her.

Steve chose a table in the dead centre of the room, dropping his blue bag on the wooden chair next to him and pulling out his papers. You carefully followed suite, folding your hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. Steve smiled at you, sliding the essay towards you “So, what am I doing wrong?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, unsure where to begin. You picked up the paper, and then open your notebook, writing down everything the story seemed to be about. Steve watched you, utterly confused. Once you had every down, you set down your pen. “Okay,” you didn’t look up from your paper, sliding the essay to the middle of the table. “Tell me what your paper is about.”

“What? You read it, you should know.” Steve laughed awkwardly.

“Humour me.” You replied, looking up slowly to meet his eye. Steve’s smiled dropped, looking at you for a second. You broke eye contact first, but he wished he had been able to hold it for a moment longer.

“Okay, well,” he took a deep breath “I wrote about my family’s trip to our cottage on Miami Beach, and I talked about what I did. Nothing much.”

“Okay, because what you actually wrote isn’t really about that. What you told me is that you went to Miami Beach, your parents own a dirty beach house that was your grandparent’s house and that they’re both dead, that your grandfather fought in World War Two and that the medals were framed in the house, that you met a girl on the beach but she didn’t like you, and that the flight was long.” You explained. You still couldn’t believe that he’d fit all of that into a page of work.

“So?” Steve asked. That was all true of his last trip. Mind you, that was way back in middle school and the details were hazy.

“So, that’s a lot of information that I don’t care about. You can cut all of the stuff about your grandparents, which takes up like half of it. And when you cut that, all I know is that the beach house is in Miami Beach and you met a girl and the flight was long. That’s not bad, but I’d like to know a bit more about it.” You said, taking back the essay from the middle of the page and crossed out every line about his grandparents.

“What do I say instead then?” Steve asked, watching as you crossed out half his page, trying not to sound defeated. You were basically saying that he had to start all over again.

“Well, tell me about the beach? Pretend like I’ve never been. What’s there to do, what’d you like about it?” you shrugged. You found yourself feeling a tad bit calmer; the butterflies had calmed their intense flapping and had let you breathe.

Steve sighed “I don’t know, I’m just bullshitting.”

“What’d you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, I didn’t go on there, I haven’t been to our beach house since I was a kid.” Steve looked away. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, even more knowing that now he’d have to rewrite his whole paper.

“Oh…what’d you actually do on your break?” you hadn’t expected him to be lying about anything, a snow bird spring break trip sounded about right for his family, they were always bragging about their money.

Steve chuckled “Oh no, nothing worth writing an essay on.” You looked up at him again. He seemed a bit sad. You pulled another sheet of paper from your trapper keeper, setting it overtop the last one.

“Tell me about it.” You smiled at him despite yourself. He was bit easier to talk to than you’d imagined.

Steve swallowed, nodding despite himself. “Well, I mean my parents went to the beach house and I tried to throw a party, you probably heard about how that went.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“No…” you shook your head. Steve wasn’t expecting that. Everyone had heard about the failed party, he’d gotten shit about it for weeks.

“Well, I couldn’t get any supplies, so I cancelled and hung out with Tommy and Carol instead. We got drunk in my backyard and Carol fell in the pool. She was so pissed. Then, I pretty much just hung about town, helped my buddy Dustin beat Dragon’s Lair at the arcade.” Steve didn’t really like admitting how lame his life was, he purposefully left out how Tommy and Carol only hung out with him when he went to pick up some weed from his older brother and they wanted a hit off it. Admitting that his life wasn’t that great made him feel small and like it was out of his control, which was not exactly a good feeling.

“Okay, tell me about the little party you had with Tommy and Carol. What was the night like? Was it fun? Did you jump in the pool too or did you watch her fall and laugh?” You had written down the few details in a bubble tree and added more details as he explained his time more thoroughly. You managed to get a bit more information on both events, learning more about his friend Dustin and the game they played.

When he was finished, you slid the page over to him. He took it, eyebrow raised in confusion, but you spoke before he could ask any questions. “This is your blue print. I wrote down everything you told me; now just turn it into an essay. The whole trick about these assignments is that you’re telling a story, and to make it interesting you have to give us details, and not about your grandparents or other things that don’t add to the story at hand, about what actually was happening.” You explained, checking the plastic watch on your wrist. It was almost four and Mrs. Mueller had already passed your table twice, her silent warning to leave. Everyone else who had been there had long left and you became very aware of how alone you were with him. The butterflies started their flapping again, churning tides in your stomach.

Steve smiled “Okay, I promise it’ll be interesting though.” He chuckled.

You shrugged “I promise that it’s more interesting than what you had before.” You shoved your papers into your bag, standing quickly “If you want me to look at it again before you hand it in, just bring it to me in class, alright? The library’s closing so I should go.”

“You want a ride home?” you spun around to look at him, crossing your arms over your paint splattered sweatshirt. The rain storm of the morning was long forgotten and you didn’t know what the weather looked like now. A part of you wanted to take the ride, but a much bigger part of you told you to run away.

You shook your head “No, um my friend Samantha said she’d drive me after her soccer practise, she’s probably waiting for me.” You lied straight through your teeth, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.

“Oh…sure, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Steve stood slowly, tucking in his chair. You waved politely and headed out. The rain had stopped, thank god, and you rushed to your locker, grabbing your wet clothes from your locker before making your way outside. The field was muddy, practise was probably cancelled. You took the long way home that afternoon, cutting through the woods and the muddy park to avoid being spotted by Harrington on the way and getting caught in a lie.

The afternoon had gone well. And that scared the shit out of you.

177 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Two for One

Fandom: Marvel (Professor AU/College AU)

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since you became the TA for Professor Romanoff, you’ve been seeing a lot of Professors Rogers and Barnes. They seem to be attracted to you, but you have a hard time deciding between the two. What do you do?

Warning: smut - bjs, threesome, semi-public…just a whole lot of naughty mk?

A/N: based off of this post and my tags in it. also, word count is about 4.1k. so yall better appreciate this and the struggle i went through to write this (i’m looking at you @chloerinebarnes )

Steve was sure that if Bucky bit his lip any further, he’d draw blood. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow, gaining his attention back, “Cool it with the staring and lip biting. You’ll scare her off.”

Bucky groaned, “She’s killin’ me with those jeans, babe.”

Steve snorted, “Tell me about it,” he murmured as his eyes went back to across the lounge. You were standing off to the side, speaking with Professor Romanoff, the teacher you were a TA for. You were nodding to everything that she was listing off for you to do. After handing you a stack of papers, you saw yourself out of the lounge. Bucky and Steve’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.

Ever since you became Professor Romanoff, aka Natasha’s, TA, Steve and Bucky have been seeing you more and more. Not that they minded. You were beautiful, funny, and smart. Honestly, you were the missing puzzle piece in their life.

Don’t get it wrong, Steve and Bucky were completely devoted to each other. But for the past few years, they’ve been feeling like they were missing something. And they believe that something is you.

But how does one go about proposing a polyamorous relationship? You don’t. It’s not a very common thing and it’s not accepted in a lot of places. Nonetheless, Steve and Bucky adored you from the moment they met you.

So, they hatched a plan. They would worm their way into your heart individually and when it came to the point where you “have to choose”, they’ll give you the other option: a two for one deal.

_________________________

You’re in the school cafe, a pile of papers off to the side that you’re making your way through. You suddenly feel a presence looming over you and you look up to see Professor Barnes.

You give him a polite smile, “Hey there, professor! How’s it going?”

“Monday mornings were never my thing hence,” he gestured to his large coffee cup.

You snorted, “Tell me about it,” you pointed to your own, “This is my third one already.”

“Mind if I sit?” he points to the seat across from you.

You shook your head, “Not at all!” you move your things around to give him a little bit more space, “Enjoy your weekend?”

He shrugged, “Just stayed home, watched some Netflix, graded papers. The usual.”

You nodded, “That’s become my usual now too. Although, yesterday my friends Pietro and Wanda dragged me out of the apartment to go to a bar. Gonna be honest, had a bit too much.”

“That explains the coffee and you still grading papers that are probably due today.”

You sighed, “Yeeeaahhh. Never listening to the twins again,” you said with a snort.

“I wish I could help. Russian Literature was my minor. But I’m sure if Nat found out, she’d have both our heads.”

“Definitely. Romanoff’s great, but, damn, does she terrify me!”

Barnes snorted, “Same here.” he stood up and grabbed his coffee, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor Barnes!”

He smiled down at you, and with a wink, he said, “Call me Bucky,” and he waltzed out of the cafe like it was nothing. And you hated to admit that that little gesture made your cheeks heat up and make your panties slightly damp.

___________________

You were struggling with holding the pile of graded papers in your arms and trying to get your notebook out for Romanoff’s class. Just when you thought you had it, all the papers tumbled forward onto the ground. You groaned and hung your head back, staring up at the sky asking, “Why me?”

You bent down and began to collect the papers, and then another pair of hands came into view. You tried to object, “It’s okay! I got-” when you looked up, staring back at you was he striking blue eyes of Professor Rogers, “I-I got it, Professor Rogers,” you stammered as you quickly collected the essays.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind helping,” he said with a shy smile, grabbing the leftover papers and handing them to you. You both stood up and awkwardly stood there, “So, uh, headed to Nat’s-I mean, Romanoff’s office?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Gotta turn in all these papers I graded.” you gestured to the pile that was back in your hands.

“Oh, well, my office is in the same direction. I’ll accompany you.”

You two walked together, towards the Literature and History building, “So, uh, how was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh, pretty bland, honestly. Just hanging out and grading papers. What about you? Did you spend your weekend grading all of these?” he points to your pile.

“Sorta,” you answered, “I got most of them done. Then I went out last night. Got drunk and never finished the rest. I just finished up in the cafe. Professor Barnes was actually there too. Surprised you weren’t with him. You two are usually attached to the hip,” you say teasingly.

Rogers snorted, “Please, I couldn’t shake ‘im even if I tried. We actually live together. We see a lot of each other and you would think we’d get sick of each other. But we don’t.”

“That’s good. I love Pietro and Wanda, but, God, I don’t think I can spend every second of the day with them.”

He chuckled, “Guess you just gotta find the right people that’ll make you want to see them all the time.”

Soon enough, you were in the building, standing in front of Professor Romanoff’s office, “Well, here’s my stop,” you say.

“Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Professor Rogers. You too!”

“Please, call me, Steve,” he says with a grin and then turns around, heading for his office in the other direction.

___________________

Bucky is eating lunch in Steve’s office. Steve is typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing when Bucky feeds him a forkful of penne pasta into his mouth.

“So, progress?” Bucky asks, his own mouth full of pasta.

Steve chews a few more times before swallowing. He takes off his glasses and sets them onto his desk, “Told her to call me Steve after I helped pick up her papers that she dropped and accompanied her on the way to Nat’s office. She said she came from the cafe and you were there?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Grabbed some coffee, sat with her and chatted a little bit. When I left, I told her to call me Bucky. You still think we should do this?”

“I really like her, Buck. I just-don’t you feel it? That spark with her?” when Bucky nodded, Steve continued, “Then can you imagine how it would be if all of us were together?”

“It’d be like nothing we’ve ever felt before,” Bucky murmured.

“Exactly. We gotta try, but we can’t be too overbearing. She’s gotta be the one.”

Bucky set down his tupperware of pasta and rest his hand on Steve’s, “She’s out missing puzzle piece.”

___________________

You sat in the lounge next to Professor Romanoff, or Nat, as she’s allowed you to call her. You’re both going over test grades and that’s when you hear the screeching of wood against the floor and then you look up to see Bucky and Steve settling across the table from you.

Your eyes brighten and a smile appears on your face, “Hey, Bucky! Hey, Steve!”

Big grins appear on their faces when you acknowledge, “Hey, doll,” Bucky says, and you feel your cheeks heating up.

You duck your head down, biting your lip and continuing to grade papers. You hoped that Nat ignored that interaction, but she didn’t. While you continued to grade papers, Nat gave questioning looks to the professors across from her. Both gave her shrugs and pulled out their own work that needed to be done.

Words started to blur as your eyes skimmed through another test, your red pen marking wrong answers. You could feel yourself getting a headache so you groaned and fell back into your seat, “I need a break. I’m gonna walk to the cafe. Do you guys want anything?” Nat and Bucky shook their head but Steve stood up.

“I’ll go with you. I think I need to stretch my legs anyway.” he turns to Bucky and gives him a nod, and then follows you out of the lounge. After you both leave, Nat turns to Bucky.

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

“Steve and I both like Y/N, so we’re trying to ease our way into her heart and possibly propose a poly relationship.”

Nat groaned, “Jesus Christ. You know what happened the last time you tried that. You and Steve ended up heartbroken and nearly broke up because of it.”

“Dot wasn’t right for us,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “But Y/N’s different. You know she is, Nat.”

“Maybe so, but then again, you hardly know her.”

“And that’s why we’re trying to spend as much time as we can to get to know her.”

Nat shook her head, “You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s a student.”

“She’s graduating this year. Once she’s graduated, then Steve and I will ask. Trust us, Nat. We learned from the last time and we know what we’re doing now.”

____________________

“So, the semester is half way over and you’ll be graduating soon. Have any plans on what to do?” Steve asked, his hands curled up in his pockets.

“Travel. Find a job. Maybe find some love on the way. I don’t know.”

“Not looking for love right now?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

You shrugged, “Oh trust me, I’ve been looking. Just haven’t found anyone that clicks with me, ya know? Someone funny, smart, compassionate, independent. Oh and knows how to cook. It’s surprising how many people here barely know how to cook.”

Steve snorted, “Bucky loves to cook. He cooks our meals all the time. I know how to cook too, but for Bucky, it’s his stress reliever. He’s in his element when he cooks, plus everything is delicious when he makes it.”

“I’d love to try something other than ramen and burgers.”

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Buck loves to cook for other people so it won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, “I can’t ask you guys to do that. You don’t have-”

“You’re not askin’, sweetheart. Plus, we want to do this. Trust me.”

You sighed, “Fine.”

Steve was beaming right then and there, “Great. Do you have any food preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

_____________________

It became a regular thing after that. You and Nat would be in the lounge going over lecture notes or grading papers. Steve and Bucky would appear and slide over some tupperware for lunch that Bucky had prepared for you. At one point, they started bringing some food for Nat too since she complained about them not bringing food for her. Plus, they didn’t want to seem too suspicious.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself in the company of Steve and Bucky often. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes it was one or the other. You’d have lunch with them, walk with them to class or the office building. Relax under some trees while you graded papers. You also ended up getting both of their numbers and all three of you would be in a group chat texting away or texting to either men individually.

You were around them a lot and you couldn’t help the feelings you were starting to develop for both them. It was conflicting. Very much so. You were a student and they were professors.

It was a month before the semester ended, before you graduated, and you’d had enough. Enough of the feelings and the confusion. It had to stop!

So you burst into Bucky’s office where you knew both men would be. As soon as you step into the room, you freeze. There right before was Steve and Bucky, but they were tangled up in each other, making out.

“I’m so confused,” you murmured as they stared at you wide-eyed.

“Doll, I-we-”

“I-I should go. Sorry. I didn’t-I’m gonna-”

You turn to leave but Steve cried outs, “Y/N, wait!” and you stop. You look at them and they’re staring at you with pleading eyes, “Sweetheart, please, don’t leave. Just-Just close the door and we’ll explain everything.”

Slowly, you move back inside, closing the door behind you. You sit at the chair across from Bucky’s desk. Bucky sits back down into his seat and Steve stands off to the side, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

“Are-Are you guys together?” you ask apprehensively. When both men nod, you let out a shaky breath, “I-I don’t understand. Both of you made it seem like you were interested in me. Were you just toying with me? Is that it?!”

“No!” both said unison.

Steve cleared his throat, “It’s nothin’ like that, Y/N. We swear. We-Bucky and I, we’ve been together for a long time. We love each other a lot, but-”

Bucky interjected, “But we feel like we’ve been missing something. And we think that something is you.”

You became even more confused, “But you’re together already. How would that even work?”

“A polyamorous relationship. The three of us can be together. Bucky and I have strong feelings for you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “This can’t happen,” and suddenly, it felt like Bucky and Steve’s hearts were breaking all over again, but then you continued, “I’m still a student and you’re professors. If this got out, I’d be expelled and you two would be fired. I-” you take a moment to let out a deep breath, “It’s funny. I was coming here to tell you that I can’t choose between you two. I have feelings for both of you, so I was just-I don’t know-take myself out of the equation.”

“But you don’t have to, doll,” Bucky says with a hopeful gaze.

Steve rest his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to prevent him from getting ahead of yourself, “But we understand your reasoning why you don’t want to be with us.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to be with you. I said I can’t right now.” that made both men’s ears perk, “I’m graduating next month. We can put all of this on hold for now and once I’m outta here then...”

“We can wait!” Bucky said all too enthusiastically, which made Steve chuckle.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and to his hand where they laced fingers, “We’re willing to wait for you, sweetheart. You’re worth it.”

You moved around the desk and to the two men, grabbing each of their hands in yours, “Thank you. You guys mean a lot to me,” you leaned in and pecked the cheeks of each men, “I’ll see you guys soon,” and then you were out of Bucky’s office. The end of next month couldn’t come any sooner.

__________________

“Y/N L/N!” your name was called as you walked across the stage, shaking the dean’s hand, and accepting your diploma. Cheers from your loved ones and peers brought a huge smile to your face. You walked down the steps dancing on your way back to your seat, your classmates buzzing all around you.

After everyone’s name was called, the dean stood up the podium to give final remarks and the changing of the tassels, “Now, everyone, I present to you the Class of 2020!” everyone cheered as caps went flying into the air. You hugged the people around you, and waited for your family and friends to meet you on the field. In the meantime..

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Bucky cried out as he gave you a big ol’ hug. Steve stood behind him, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Congrats, Y/N,” Steve gave you a hug, nothing to make anyone suspicious.

You were beaming at them, “Thanks you guys. I can’t believe it. I graduated!”

Bucky was ready to ask you out right then and there, but stopped when he saw your family approaching. He and Steve stepped aside to allow you some time with your loved ones. They mouthed, “See you later,” and both walked away to congratulate other students.

You watched as they departed. A part of you wanted to chase after them and kiss them both then and there, but that would stir something up and you didn’t want any trouble on this momentous day. Soon, Y/N. Soon.

The day after graduation was when you were to pick up your official diploma. You knew from the group chat that Steve and Bucky would be on campus, due to finishing up finals. And after you picked up your diploma, you wanted to go see them.

With diploma in hand, you approached the office building, sending off texts to the men:

You: whatcha up to?

Bucky: grading finals in Steve’s office

You: can I stop by?

Steve: of course ;)

Bucky: BRING COFFEE!

You giggled, knowing how predictable Bucky was, two cups of coffee with you already. You approached Steve’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door, “May I enter?”

The door swung wide open, and Bucky immediately pulled you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You snorted, “Wow, eager mu-mmf!” you couldn’t finish the teasing retory as a pair of lips matched up with yours, hands cupping your face.

You heard a chuckle from behind you, “Buck, careful, you’re gonna make her spill the coffee she got for us.” He went over and grabbed the coffee tray from your hands.

You pulled away, mumbling, “Thank you,” to him and then looking back at Bucky who sported a dopey grin on his face, “How long were you waiting to do that?”

“So fucking long,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more, but it was brief since you pulled away.

“Hey now, two kisses and Steve hasn’t even gotten any from me yet. You’re starting to get greedy, mister.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down shyly, “Sorry, doll,” he then moved aside for Steve.

Steve pulled you in, wrapping an arm around you and slowly leaning in. His lips were hovering over yours and right as you were about to tell him to hurry up, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your skin as he held onto you for dear life. For so long him and Bucky have wanted you like this and he feels like if he lets go, if he pulls away, it’ll all be a dream.

Steve began to walk you backwards until your backside hit the edge of his desk. You pulled away to look at the two men, whose soft gazes faded and turned into lustful ones.

You smirked, “I’ve always fantasized about being fucked on a desk.”

Both men growled as they started to undo their pants. Steve pressed you up against the desk, kissing you heatedly, while Bucky began to remove things from the surface. You hopped onto it after receiving the okay from Bucky. Steve worked on getting your jeans off while Bucky pulled of your shirt. Clothes flew around the room with no care where they landed.

“Ah fuck, baby doll. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky moaned, his hand slowly pumping his cock and the other kneading your breast.

You laid across the surface, opening your mouth, welcoming Bucky’s length. You both moaned when his dick entered your mouth. Bucky thrust his hips back and forth, loving how you looked taking his cock.

Meanwhile, Steve was paying special attention to your pussy. He licked a strip up your slit, tongue circling around your clit. When you moaned a little too loud, Steve pulled away, “Quiet now, honey. Someone might here your pretty little noises and those are for our ears only.”

Bucky pulled out of your mouth for you to reply, “Sorry, Steve.”

“How wet is she, Stevie?” Bucky asked through his panting.

Steve licked his lips, “So fucking wet and she’s so sweet,” he murmured before slurping up some of your juices.

Bucky whined, “Lemme taste.” Steve then stood up and leaned over the desk, pulling Bucky towards him, Lips smashing against lips. You wished you could’ve seen the two men swapping your taste, but the view was blocked by Bucky’s body leaning over yours.

When they pulled away Steve cleared his throat, looking from you to Bucky, “So, how’s this gonna go: i fuck her pussy while you get her mouth, or vice versa?”

You shook your head, “No, I wanna feel you both at the same time.”

Both men moaned at the thought of both of their cocks filling you up to the brim. Steve nodded, “Very well. Bucky, on the table. Sweetheart, straddle Bucky.” Both you and Bucky did as you were told while Steve pulled out a bottle of lube from a drawer.

You gave him a questioning look and Bucky chuckled, “This isn’t the first time we’ve fucked in this office, doll.” And just the image of Bucky and Steve fucking in this office made you even more wet than before.

Steve, with his cock lubed up, knelt behind you and in-between Bucky’s legs, “You ready for us, babygirl?”

“I’ve literally been waiting all semester for this, Steve. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

Both men snickered at your haste, “Gotta give our girl what she wants,” Bucky mumbled as he lined himself up with you and you lowered yourself onto him. Steve was right behind you, pushing you forward and slowly easing himself into not wanting to hurt you. Moments pass they’re both inside you and, holy shit, this is something you’ve never felt before.

Both men stay still as they let you set the pace. You rock your body back and forth, allowing both cocks to drag themselves in and out of you. Seriously, the feeling was something unworldly. What made it ever better was Bucky’s lips on your chest and Steve’s hand working your clit. These men both knew what they were doing.

“So fucking sexy, sweetheart, taking our cocks at the same time,” Steve murmured into your neck, “You love this, don’t you? Love being filled to the brim.”

Bucky bit at your skin, making you hiss, to which he mumbled, “Answer him, babydoll.”

“Yes, Steve. Love your cocks filling me whole,” you gasped when Bucky’s cock just hit that spot that made you shudder. With the way things were going, you knew you were gonna be cumming soon.

“Wanna make a mess outta you, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, lips still wandering over your neck and chest, “Wanna fill you with our cum, paint you with it. Mark you as ours.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out, “I’m all yours,” you moved your body faster, desperate for your release.

“Go ahead, baby, cum on our cocks. We wanna feel ya,” Steve mumbled in your ear, his hand working faster on your clit. You dug your nails into Bucky’s chest, a pain he happily welcomed.

“Come on, baby. Give it us. You can do it,” Bucky encouraged you, slapping your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, fuck,” you said through gritted teeth. A powerful wave of pleasure washed over you as leaned down, resting your head against Bucky’s while you came.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered.

“Such a good girl,” Steve murmured, kissing your back and shoulders. You moved a bit and felt something wet. You sat up and looked down to see that you just squirted all over you and Bucky.

“Oh shit. I’ve never done that before,” you murmured.

Bucky snickered, “First time for everything,” he said with a wink.

You then moved off his lap, “Well, lemme clean this up for you since it is my mess.” Both men hissed when your hands wrapped around both their lengths, your mouth gliding over Bucky’s stomach and pelvis, collecting your own juices.

“Oh my God, you’re perfect,” he moaned, his hand grabbing your head and trying to push it towards his cock.

You slapped his hand away, “I already sucked you off, babe. Now it’s Steve’s turn,” you said with a smirk. You gave a wink to the blonde as your mouth lowered onto his dick. Bucky was right, you are perfect. And you’re theirs. All theirs.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #smut #professor au #college au

2K notes · View notes

lovely-ateez · 4 years

Text

For The First Time Pt.2~

ꕥPosted: 7/25/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Fluff

ꕥPairing: Fem!reader x Jongho

ꕥWord Count: ~1k

ꕥWarnings: None

ꕥA/N: I know this isn’t a popular series which makes me a little sad but I wanted to finish it anyway. If people end up liking it and it actually gets attention I might(?) make a part 3. It’s most likely gonna end here tho. Read part 1 also if you wouldn’t mind! Things will make a lot more sense if you do. You can do that here

ꕥA/N Cont: So even though I provided translations for some words, there is a phrase that I clarified in the middle of the writing bc I didn’t want to spoil anything

ꕥPhrase Guide:

你= You

加油 = You can do it (encouragement)

Jongho was surprisingly easy to talk to and we got along better than I thought we would. Not that I thought we wouldn’t get along, but I was still surprised.

After we had lunch together we exchanged numbers and began to hang out more, usually every couple days given our busy schedules.

He was so talkative that I found out almost everything about him in no time. He just turned 20, was a music major, and took Chinese because he wanted a challenge. He loved snow but hated the cold. Soccer was his favorite sport but he didn’t play often since he was always either studying or working as a tutor for underclassmen. He was born in Korea but grew up in America. Fluent in Korean but insecure enough about his American accent that he only spoke it with close friends and family. He met Mingi during a soccer camp he went to in middle school and his best friend - the guy with the mullet - was named Hongjoong and apparently much friendlier than he looked.

The more I spent time with Jongho, the more I realized I had feelings for him and the stronger they became. When Marina and I were alone in our dorm, I told her everything I was feeling and the response was exactly what I suspected.

“HA! KNEW IT!” Marina yelled, “I just won myself ten bucks.”

“I’m sorry, YOU WHAT?”

“I may or may not have made a bet with Mingi that you would catch feelings within three months of meeting Jongho. And you’re two days away from three months, girly.” She shrugged but kept the smile on her face.

“Oh my god you did not. Actually speaking of...what’s up with you two? Are you official yet?”

Marina went quiet for a moment then bit her lip, finally speaking up, “Well...not yet, technically, but we’ve seriously considered it. We have another date this weekend. Now all you have to do is get with Jongho and we can go on a double date.”

“Yeah I don’t know about that, M.”

“Y/n he totally likes you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No I know. He’s got a few tells so I know he feels at least a little something. I’m just not sure if I should commit to anything, you know?”

Marina let out a loud laugh before speaking again.

“Pfft no. I dated all throughout high school. If I’m being honest, though, I really think you should give it a chance. People always freak out about possibly ruining a friendship by confessing but honestly if a friendship can’t withstand a little crush then you probably weren’t solid friends in the first place.”

“You know what? You’re right. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah girl! Go get him!”

The next day arrived way too quickly. Although I told myself I would confess, I was getting anxious. I walked into Chinese class holding hands with Marina for emotional support. We were the first ones there, as always, so I had a bit of time to rant.

“I’ll be honest, M. I’ve never felt butterflies like this before. I’m actually shaking.” I lifted up my hand to show her my slight tremor.

“Oh sweetheart! It’ll be all good! Promise. Just take a few deep breaths.”

I slowly breathed in and out for the next several seconds.

“You’re right. I can do this.”

The trio walked into class several minutes later. Mingi gave a quick kiss to Marina and Jongho gave me a friendly smile. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the four of us and walked to his usual seat, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him.

The rest of the class filled in and soon our professor arrived.

The professor loudly clapped her hands, speaking up, “Alright class. Today I’m going to have you pair up in groups of two and work together. I don’t care who it’s with, as long as it’s with somebody. We’ve got an even number of students so we should be fine. I’ve got some games for you to play today.”

I turned to Marina but she was already halfway up the stairs to sit next to Mingi. I looked at Jongho but he motioned at Hongjoong, mouthing that he was sorry.

Okay. That’s fine. I thought. I’ll find someone else. Looking up I saw the unfamiliar young man standing in front of me. He blanked for a moment when I looked up at him.

“Hey! Uh...would you maybe want to be partners?”

“Are you sure? With the both of us together we’ll probably beat the whole class by a landslide.”

He laughed and sat down next to me, visibly more confident.

“I’m sure they can manage. I’m Tommy, by the way. You’re y/n, right?”

I nodded and smiled at him as we shook hands. I looked Tommy in the eyes and saw a slight blush on his cheeks. What I didn’t see; however, was the death stare Jongho was giving him.

The professor looked up and let out a laugh, pointing at Tommy and I.

“Yeah no way in hell am I letting that happen. You two are my best students and - no offense everyone - but no one would stand a chance against you two.”

“Ouch.” I heard Mingi say.

Jongho quickly stood up and raised his hand, “I’ll partner up with her!”

“Very good. Get on with it then.”

Tommy looked upset, making me feel bad for leaving him.

“Hey that’s okay, Tommy. Maybe next time?” I gave him a smile that he soon returned.

I walked up to Jongho, sitting next to him as Hongjoong sat down next to Tommy.

Jongho leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be honest, y/n. I’m really glad the teacher separated you two.”

“Yeah, I bet everyone is. We are the best in the class, no offense,” I laughed.

“Actually no I meant-“

“Alright class. I have talked in English for an unusually long time but in my defense, I was up basically all night grading essays so I’m running on two hours of sleep and a cappuccino. Nevertheless, I’ll now switch to Chinese. 加油.”

The first game was simple enough. The teacher wrote beginner to intermediate level phrases for us to translate. If we got it right, we got a point.

My team eventually won, beating Tommy and Hongjoong by a single point. Jongho really surprised me, getting almost as many questions right as I did.

Mingi and Marina ended up last because neither of them were paying attention, instead flirting with each other.

The second and final game was a little more complicated. We had to translate the sentence, as well as pronounce all the characters correctly. Tommy’s team was tied with mine until Jongho answered the last question correctly. I smiled at him and bounced in my seat.

“We won, Jongho!” I exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. He froze at first, but then put his arms around me and pulled me closer.

The professor spoke up once more, “We’re out of time for class today but remember you have a test next week. I expect you all to be studying!”

Our classmates soon left the room along with our teacher. Hongjoong quickly ran out to meet his new boyfriend - Seonghwa I think he said? - and Mingi and Marina were already gone. I assumed they left class sometime during the second game.

“Hey,” Jongho said to me as I was slipping on my backpack, “I was wondering if you could help me out with my writing in Chinese? Sometimes I mess up the stroke order and I could use the practice.”

“Sure! When do you want to study?”

“How about now?”

Jongho grabbed my arm and led me down to the whiteboard at the front of the class. I looked around at the empty classroom and nodded. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. He picked up a marker and began to write.

“I’ll write and you tell me if I make a mistake, okay?”

I laughed, “Sure, Jongho.”

As he started writing I didn’t see any mistakes. When he finished writing, I gasped.

“我喜欢你。你喜欢谁?”

[I like you. Who you you like?]

I smiled and took the marker from his hands, placing it back on the podium. I looked him in the eyes and cupped his face. “你” I said as I kissed him. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. He smiled and kissed me again, this time wrapping his arms around my waist.

We pulled back for air and I whispered, “You know, I was actually planning on telling you today, too. Marina encouraged me to tell you, but I guess I didn’t have to after all.”

“I mean you can still tell me, if you want.”

I gently kissed his cheek, “You already know how I feel.”

“Hmm. Actually I’m not quite sure. Could you clarify for me?” Jongho laughed when I playfully hit his arm.

“You know,” he continued, “when I said I was glad the teacher separated you earlier, I meant that I was glad you were away from Tommy. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I really didn’t like it. I got so nervous because even though I tease, this is the first time I’ve felt like this. So I guess the question is...will you let me take you on a date?”

“Absolutely!”

#ateez #ateez au #ateez smut #kpop #kpop smut #jongho #choi jongho #jongho fluff #jongho ateez #kpop imagines #yeetus #college au #imagines #ateez imagines #ateez atiny #atiny

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sevensoulmates · 1 month

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I'm glad you didn't listen to your teachers then because you explain things in detail, in a pleasant way that makes me want to keep reading. So I'll be here to read your essays anytime, you point things out about the show that I've never considered before and as a result I've noted a lot of new things within a whole new perspective so I'm really thankful for that.

Btw are you thinking about writing more in depth about the buddifer scene in 7x1? And lastly I was wondering about a previous anon you replied saying you reached the conclusion about buddie going in the canon direction after watching "Eddie begins" can I ask what made you reach that conclusion back then? I'm just curious.

Thank you so much for replying to my previous ask, and for the follow. You're really nice ❤️

LOLOL I'm not sure how much of it was I didn't listen and how much of it was I just don't have the skills agjsdjkg but I try!!

I love reading other people's meta as much as I like writing my own for the same reasons you mentioned. It's part of why I like fandom so much (most of the time) because sometimes it really takes someone else thinking of it a different way to open up way more about a story.

I may write more about the buddifer scene later. I'm currently getting ready to go on a week long trip so I'll actually be missing episode 2. I think once I come back I'll write a meta for episode 2 and maybe go back to the buddifer scene in episode 1 too.

So I heard about buddie prior to starting the show and I knew at the time of starting it that they weren't canon yet. I've been in the same boat as lot of other older fandom people and seen many many queer ships never go canon, but I'm not afraid to still dive into shows like that anyway. I wanted to see how exactly the show handled it and make my own decisions. I started watching the show (and loved it even aside from buddie) and when I watched season 2, whereas I could see why other people shipped them from the get-go, I personally thought most of the most prominent ship moments felt very fan-servicey and not meant to be taken seriously. And this was proven right by how Tim talked about it at the time. I still felt there was plausible deniability about them together as a pairing, even through the amazing tsunami arc. Long story-short, until Eddie Begins I still thought that Eddie and Buck could just be close friends, and I didn't necessarily get entirely on board with the ship or think they were heading towards building a romance for them. That changed with Eddie Begins.

I watched Eddie Begins live on TV (I still had cable then lol) and it was literally one of those moments of TV that just...changes everything. In particular, the moment where Eddie gets trapped underground and Buck loses his mind, screaming his name, illogically digging for him in the mud with just his hands and no tools, unable to think or hear anything even as Bobby has to physically haul Buck back, the two of them toppling to the ground because Buck can't hold his body weight up and then he just tips his head back onto Bobby's chest and just starts sobbing, face up in the rain.

That moment. That was the moment I went oh. Buck is in love with this man, whether he knows it or not. And then Eddie's near-death montage, where Buck is featured so prominently in his reasonings for fighting to come home to his family. And of course, Buck looking just absolutely dead inside when everyone so obviously thought Eddie wasn't going to make it.

This episode is what got me absolutely fully onboard with the ship, and signaled to me that the writers were actually taking steps to deepen their relationship in a serious (and romantic coded) way. The rest of season 3, and then with that context, the whole of season 3 was just so vastly different from the tone buddie took in season 2. It no longer felt like something done for shits and giggles. It felt like they were setting the foundation for a relationship that might take a long time to get there but would eventually end up romantic. Eddie Begins is such an important and pivotal episode because not only does it then recontextualize all of early season 3, but then later on, when we get the season 4 finale, and find out that Eddie made his decision about Buck being Chrisotopher's legal guardian right after Eddie Begins? That then recontextualizes all of season 3b and the entirety of season 4.

To me, all of the decisions stemming from Eddie Begins said that the writers were very serious about deepening Eddie and Buck's relationship to a degree that neither of them share with any other characters and would be extremely hard to replicate with any other character unless they, too, had years of screen time to develop. To me, I didn't see a point in shifting their relationship with each other like this so deeply unless the plan was to provide an extremely solid foundation so that if the powers that be (TPTB) actually allowed it, they could get Buck and Eddie together romantically in the future.

Tim admitted in the past that (paraphrasing) all of the conversations we, as fans, have online about the future of buddie, are the same conversations they have in the writer's room. So I do believe that this slow build they've been on over the years was for a purpose, even if we wouldn't see the payoff until many many years down the line.

Some of the decisions made in seasons 5 and 6 also seemed to me like they were trying to buy time. TPTB and by extension, Kristen obviously were not down with getting them together, and yet it still felt like some of the prominent buddie writers in the writers room were still doing their best to keep deepening their relationship and drawing it out with no actual definitive answer, so that they didn't have to fully close the door on buddie, just in case. Hence why a lot of viewers feel like they were yanking our chain back and forth.

And now, look where we are, at ABC, and it really seems to me like they finally have the blessing of TPTB, with a showrunner that knows how to get from point A to point B to point C, and they can finally stop dragging out the decision of where to take their relationship.

That's not to say they won't still take a little while to get together, but I do feel at this point that a definitive decision on romantic buddie or not has been made. And based on episode 1, I'm feeling really positive about it.

#911 abc #ask #buddie #speculation #911 speculation

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ackermancurse · 5 years

Note

im super excited to see ffh !!! on another note tho, (sorry for nsfw) imagine thighriding w peter. him holding your hips to control your movements..

AN: kinda got carried away and wrote a whole essay haha but this is my first time posting smut on my blog so please give me feedback! i’d love to improve

Warnings: swearing, 18+ Peter Parker, SMUT!!!

When Peter and you decided to finally get an apartment together with the help of your families you were excited, possibly a little too excited. The two of you always had to plan when you guys could have sex since your dorm rooms weren’t the most ideal place. It especially became less ideal after Peter’s roommate caught you guys fully going at it on top of the covers, not your brightest moment. So to say you were ready to have sex without worrying about someone random barging in was an understatement.

The past week was very busy for Peter that his routine became unbearable for you, it was your first week alone together after all. Peter got home from lectures, worked on assignments, went to study groups, and then came home late at night too tired to do anything.

Watching him walk around in his grey sweatpants and tight t-shirt was absolutely unbearable for you. After he left to his study groups it was like clockwork trying to get yourself off using any and all methods to relieve some of the sexual frustration.

Tonight you decided that you were finally over trying to get off at imagining Peter do stuff to you that you needed to take things into your own hands.

You decided to wear Peter’s red t-shirt that he absolutely went crazy about whenever you wore it, it was like a seduction technique you had. You opted to wear black lace underwear underneath, again Peter’s favorite pair, and no bra. You knew that this was going to finally give you both the action you craved.

Peter’s face was illuminated by his laptop screen as he was typing away for an essay at the kitchen table and of course he was wearing those grey sweatpants that made you tighten your legs together.

You make your way into the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water, reaching for the glass on the third shelf.

It was of course to high so the shirt you were wearing lifted and revealed your underwear. The tapping on the keyboard went to a very slow pace at this change of events and you smirked to yourself, Peter was definitely looking.

After trying to grab the glass you sigh and turn to face Peter. Once you turn he instantly types away again, “Peter can you help me grab this cup please?”

He stops.

“Uh yeah sure,” he coughs and his hand taps lightly against the table before standing up and making his way towards you. He was hard and you could see it through his sweats. Your underwear was damp at the sight knowing you only got him hard with what you were wearing.

He grabs the glass and hands it to you, making direct eye contact and you notice the dark lust filled pupils.

“Thank you babe, sorry to interrupt you,” you pout and Peter’s eyes wander down your body.

He clears his throat again.

“Don’t worry about it. Anything for my girl,” he places a hand on your hip and drags you close giving you a kiss. You bite down on his bottom lip and he moans quietly, using one of his turn ons against him.

You poured yourself water and drank it at the counter watching him type away feeling your underwear getting more and more damp by the second. His concentration was killing you.

Setting the glass in the sink you sway over to Peter and standing behind him you wrap your arms around his chest. Peter turns his head to look at you and you place a peck on his lips. He looks back to the screen and types more. You begin leaving kisses along his jaw and his hands shake as they try to concentrate on typing. Once you got to his neck he slightly tilted it and you leave wet kisses, another moan escaping his lips. You stop.

“I’m not tired yet can I sit on your lap and watch you write until I get sleepy?” you innocently ask your boyfriend.

He hesitates, “Mhmmm.” Peter knew that if he tried to speak his voice would sound too needy. He knew that he hadn’t spent as much time with you as he had hoped. He knew that you were both sexually frustrated out of your minds. He knew that once you sat down on his lap that you guys would eventually get to rip your clothes off and have the sex you both desperatley needed.

You sit with your back facing Peter and try to find a comfortable position. Grinding your hips ever so slightly and feeling Peter’s hard on underneath you. You droop your left arm around Peter’s neck and watch him type away once again.

The veins on his hands were poking out, a sign that he was getting close to losing it.

That’s when you swing your legs to face him and run your fingers through his hair. His eyes close and you hear his breath tremble at your touch.

You slowly start to move your hips along his thigh and moan out at the friction. Peter shuts his laptop and pushes it further towards the center of the table. Your arms wrap around Peter’s neck as his head tilts back in pleasure.

His hands find your hips and help guide them to help your movements. They were extremely tight and you knew that you would have bruises in the morning.

Grazing his cock every once in awhile with your core Peter would let out the loudest groans you’ve heard.

Feeling the pit in your stomach that you have been wanting forever your movements become rapid and you are biting down on your lip.

You let go of the tightness and pant hastily soon feeling Peter release in his sweats as he sighs in content.

“Fuck we needed that,” Peter mumbles as he kisses you passionately.

You stare into his eyes and nod, “Hell yeah we did.”

“Now I don’t know about you but I could go for another round,” Peter pants and two of you rush to take off your clothes.

When you get off of Peter’s lap you notice the wet spot on his light grey sweats and feel yourself getting hot. Peter drops his sweats and you notice another hard on in his boxers.

You lift the red shirt and Peter stares at your bare breasts, your nipples hard from the cold air. You sit on the kitchen table and slowly pull down your black lace underwear while watching Peter pump himself in his hand.

Right as you pull the last bit of your underwear off your leg Peter latched his lips onto yours.

He kissed along your jaw down to your neck and landed on your breasts. He twirled one of your nipples in between his fingers while he sucked dark purple marks on your other breast.

You moan out and he places more kisses until he is face to face with your core.

Peter’s index finger slightly grazes your clit and you whimper, “Wet already?”

“Please Peter I-I need you,” you stammer as you feel Peter’s hot breath against your core. You felt your back arching off the table and you tried bucking your hips towards him.

“As you wish,” his hands pushed your hips down and his the tip of his tongue enters your core.

He licks rapidly and you were a moaning mess.

“God Peter just like that,” you say and your hands shoot down to his hair, tugging him closer.

Peter felt himself grow harder at how much you needed him and how he knew that only he could make you feel this way.

Your thighs wrap around Peter’s head as he continued to lick your clit wildly. Then he caught you by surprise by entering a finger.

“You look so pretty baby girl. So so pretty enjoying my tongue and finger,” Peter says before licking your clit again.

This was it. You started seeing stars.

“I bet you tried pleasing yourself but nothing compared to me huh?” Peter questioned as he entered one more finger and began moving faster.

“Oh god yes. N-Nothing c-compares to you. I needed you s-so bad,” you cry out as you feel your legs shake and the tightness in your stomach becomes unbearable.

“Now princess I want you to let go, let go all in my mouth. I want to taste you,” Peter latches his lips once more to your core and with a loud moan you release.

He slurps up all your juices and uses his fingers to clean the corner of his mouth, licking every bit.

He grazes his finger to your core and you wince. He brings it up to your mouth, “Suck.”

You oblige and suck his finger, tasting yourself.

Peter’s hand goes back down to his member and he pumps himself at the sight of you. Panting and sweaty all because of him.

He sits back down in the chair and continues to stroke his member, moaning quietly.

When you finally catch your breath you push yourself off the table and kneel on the floor in front of Peter’s cock.

Your hand replaces his own and Peter’s head falls back.

You let your tongue swirl the tip in your mouth and Peter whimpers.

Without warning you sink your mouth down all over Peter’s cock, “Fuck.”

Staring up at Peter his eyes are shut forcefully and his lips are slightly parted. You moan against Peter when you feel him hit the back of your throat and his hands grab a fistfull of your hair. He forces his eyes open and he looks at you staring back at him.

“God baby you’re d-doing so good. Do you like my cock? Did you miss me face fucking you?” At the last comment he bucks his hips upwards and you feel tears well in your eyes.

You felt another tightness in your stomach again. You were getting off for the third time and it was just because Peter was moaning because of you.

Peter’s cock twitched in your mouth and you were ready to taste him after such a long time.

Your head was yanked off of his member and you gasp, “Sorry love as much as I want to cum in your mouth I’d rather cum inside you…. You’re still on the pill right?” You nod and he smirks.

He helps you stand up and you hover over his erect member. You feel the tip enter your core slowly and you both let out sighs in pleasure. That’s when Peter grabs a hold of your hips and slams into you, bucking his hips.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you bounced on Peter’s cock. Your breasts bounce in front of Peter and he flicks his tongue against one of your nipples.

You moan out, “Shit I missed this.”

“Tell me about it. S-so many times I wanted to fuck your brains out when I g-got home,” Peter stammered and your hand fell to your clit moving back and forth rapidly.

Peter speeds up his thrusts and you were screaming his name, letting profanities fall out of your lips.

You feel Peter twitch inside you and the tightness in your stomach was almost about to be set free.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you say as you look into Peter’s eyes, resting your forehead against his.

“Fuck… I am too. C’mon baby cum for me,” Peter groans as he looks deeply into your eyes. You feel yourself clench around him and let your juices fall out. You pant and Peter chokes on his breath when he cums inside you. Both of your eyes were closed as try to catch your breath.

You kiss Peter and open your eyes. He smiles a sloppy grin at you as you push his hair away from his face. He leans your forehead down and presses a small kiss.

As you stand up off of Peter, your legs tremble as you walk to retrieve the red shirt that was thrown on the ground.

You throw the shirt back on and put your hair in a messy bun, “You are so beautiful.” You turn and see Peter smiling at you, now fully clothed.

Walking over to the fridge you grab 2 gatorades you had bought earlier that day. You hand Peter a blue one while you take the red one. You sit back on his lap and the two of you drink in silence.

“Well I’ll leave you to finish this essay,” you give him a kiss and head to your shared bedroom. You uncover the bed and lay peacefully with the lights off.

A few minutes later you hear shuffling in your room and the bed sinks next to you. Peter’s face was inches from yours and you look confused, “What about your essay?”

He chuckles, “Yeah about that… If you were paying attention to the screen I wasn’t writing anything. Just a bunch of random words.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his lips, “I love you.”

His thumb softly rubs against your cheek, “I love you too.”

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Note

I’m obsessed with modern au Arthur. Possible to do one with him and a female reader where they’re well into their relationship, he asks her to marry him, she says yes and it turns smutty? (And possible to make her chubby?) thanks!

Ooh thanks for sending this!!!! Now I don’t know how to write anything in a short essay, so I just did like 7 pages. Whatever, I had fun writing it.

Warnings: swearing, smut (do I really need to put this in?)

(Author’s note: this is an image of the lake referenced in this piece. If you’re curious, it’s Mirror Lake in the Uintah mountains of Utah.)

You’ve been together for three years. Three long, mostly good years. Arthur can still remember the way you looked when he first met you. So beautiful, with your gorgeous eyes that he could swear saw right into his soul. From the moment he saw you, he wanted to know everything about you. Your talents and your flaws.

You’d been on your way to your favorite lake in order to get away from your life for a day. You had to travel through the small town Arthur lived in on his ranch in order to get there, but your car started to make weird sounds, so you stopped at the one mechanic shop and gas station in the town. Arthur happened to be there too when you pulled in to fill up on gas. He’d heard the sounds your car were making and he approached you, asking if you needed help. You smiled and said you’d hire the mechanic, but he was always generous and willing to help a lending hand he offered to look at your car and try to fix it for free. As you were in college still and on break for summer, you were willing to cut any financial corners you could.

The problem turned out to be an easy fix, but it would have cost you a couple hundred bucks. Arthur, good on his word, fixed it for free. The two of you talked while he worked and he really liked you. The way you talked (though he could tell you were guarded), the way you smiled at him, the way you brushed your hair from your face. He couldn’t let you leave without asking you out. At first, you thought he was joking. No way in hell was this hot guy asking you out. You, an overweight woman who’d spent the last few years completely alone. No one noticed you or thought you were pretty because of your weight, so why in the hell would he? Arthur’s smile seemed so genuine though you finally said yes.

Arthur remembers that first date almost like it’d just happened. He took you to a nice Asian restaurant and you talked for hours. For once, you decided to wear your nicer clothes and not your usual shirts that had logos from movies or tv shows. The colors you chose made your eyes shine all the brighter, but Arthur could sense your hesitancy. However, he was ecstatic when you agreed to a second date.

After your third date, he knew he was in love with you. You had so much in common and you were gorgeous. He didn’t even notice your size, not that it was a dampener to begin with. He also loved that, even though you struggled a lot with your image in high school, you no longer let it hold you back. You simply said, “Yes, I am a chubby girl. But that doesn’t define me.” He didn’t like that you always added you had much larger flaws than your weight. He thought you were perfect.

He learned on the fourth date though that you were suffering from a broken heart, which was why you’d gone running up to your favorite lake the day you met him. It was also the main factor for your hesitancy. Your best friend of over a decade had passed away from a brain tumor the past winter and you were still struggling with it. You didn’t have many friends so this one was a particularly harsh blow. However, as you and Arhur became closer and more intimate, he started to help you heal that heartache.

He can still recall the first time you two made love. You were always a guarded person with thick walls, but when you two first laid down together after a few glasses of wine, they all came tumbling down. He was already crazy about you before, but after that he was completely head over heels. You never said anything, but he felt you were the same way about him.

Two semesters later, you graduated college but had nowhere to live unless you wanted to move back in with your parents, which you really didn’t want to do. Arthur lived alone on his ranch with his dog. He knew you moving from the city to his small town might be an adjustment for you, he asked you to move in with him. You jumped on the opportunity as you had been offered a job that allowed you to work remotely and although the town was small, it wasn’t too far from the city. Plus, it was the gateway to your favorite lake, an added bonus.

You two lived together famously. Sure, there were a few fights, but for the most part you worked together extremely well. He wanted to ask you to marry him only a few months after you moved in, but you went off one night about how stupid some people could be when it came to their relationships. Your sister had just gotten divorced from your husband of four years because he turned out to be cheating and then she also told you he’d been abusing her, both physically and mentally. You’d seen it coming, of course. You never liked the guy to begin with and they didn’t live together before they were married and she told you if she’d known some of his living and financial habits before, she’d never have married him. You ranted at Arthur half the night about how crucial it was for people to not only make sure they were sexually compatible before marriage, but also financially and habitually compatible. Arthur decided on that night, he’d wait until you’d been living together for at least a year before popping the question.

It’s been well over that mark now and your relationship is the strongest it’s ever been. Your job pays great and he’s still making good enough money on his ranch to make your lives comfortable. He’s also taught you how to help him run it, and you actually like the work. He’s ready to marry you; no one has made him happier and he couldn’t imagine life without you. He just wonders how to do it. He has a ring, he went and bought one that he knew you’d love and the stone wasn’t a diamond. You hated diamonds, they were too common. Instead, the stone was your favorite color. He smiled whenever he thought about it.

He’s been thinking about what to do in order to ask. A million ideas run through his mind. He doesn’t want to do the “sit at dinner and put the ring in your drink” thing. Too unoriginal. You’d certainly say no because there’d be no thought behind it. He wanted to do something that said he knew you. You love animals a lot, he knows. Maybe something at the zoo or proposing in the tube at the aquarium’s shark tank? No, too crowded. You’ve never liked crowds and you suffer from social anxiety. He knows you’d probably say yes but mostly from the pressure of any witnesses. He wants you to say yes because you genuinely mean it.

Then it comes to him. The perfect idea. Luckily, it’s June, which means the weather won’t be a problem. That night when you get home from running an errand that took you longer than it should have, he kisses you like he always does, but there’s something else behind it you can put a finger on. Some kind of desperation. He looks hot as ever in his blue plaid button down. You like to tease him by stating he looks like a lumberjack, especially when he hasn’t shaved for a few days. You love his scruffy look though, so he typically keeps his beard trimmed the way you like.

When you walk into the kitchen, you find he’s already got dinner started. You love whenever he does this, it takes pressure off of you. His hands suddenly grab your shoulders from behind and he starts massaging them. You tilt your head back and let out a moan, making him chuckle.

“Hey,” he says after kissing your neck. “I wanna go up to the lake. You too overloaded with work for that?”

“No,” you say. “I can spare a few hours of free time to go up there. Unless you wanna push it to the weekend?”

“With everyone else?” he says. “No. I want it to be just you and me, darlin’.”

He kisses your neck again, sending goose bumps down your entire body. “Okay, cowboy,” you say. He chuckles at the nickname.

“Water’s boiling,” you say and he lets you go to take care of it.

A few days later, you're both in Arthur’s truck driving up to the lake in the mountains. It’s a good 45 minutes away, mostly consisting of winding roads through thick forests and canyons, but you’re definitely not going to complain. Arthur loves the way your eyes sparkle when you see the forest. He rolls down the windows so the scent of it floods the car and he laughs when you take in a deep breath, your long hair streaming out the window. He drives slower than usual so you can really enjoy the view and the smell.

The lake finally comes into view at the bottom of a tall mountain and he pulls the car over at an overlook sight so you can get out. You look at him curiously, he’s never done this before. You decide not to question him and just get out, taking in the view. It really is stunning. From up here, the lake looks much smaller but it sparkles in the sun. Arthur thinks it has nothing when it comes to your eyes. He holds your hand as you both look down at it. After a few moments, he suggests moving on.

The truck finally pulls into the public parking lot and you get out, pulling out the fishing poles and tackle box. Arthur knows you like to fish, even though you don’t have the greatest luck, much like himself. You like doing it though because it allows the world to slow down but you still have something to do with your hands.

You and Arthur walk hand in hand down the boardwalk skirting around the east side of the lake. It’s not the biggest you’ve been to, but it’s definitely one of the most gorgeous. The forest goes right down to the edge of the water and it's not uncommon to find wild flowers and see lots of wildlife. While you look around at the trees, the water, everything, but he’s staring at you as you walk. The way your hair shines in the sun, how the light kisses your shoulders. The way you hold yourself proudly. The shape of your nose, your chin, your lips. Everything of yours. He desperately wants to ask you then and there, but he wants it to be perfect because you’ve been so perfect for him.

Along the boardwalk, you step out into a meadow. People don’t walk along it because it’s usually flooded with lake water, but those determined enough to face the mushy grass can walk onto what you call the island, which is really just a bubble of land attached to the shore by a thin strip of grass and mud. Arthur asks if you want to go to the island and you, of course, nod. You love the island. No one else goes to it because they don’t want to get their shoes muddy and it’s only big enough for maybe a dozen people to stand on amidst the trees and bushes. But that is why you love it. And it’s the perfect spot.

When you get to the island, you begin positioning yourself at a good spot to start fishing. The sun’s dipping to the west, meaning the fish will start biting soon. However, Arthur grabs your pole and sets it down before taking your hands.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Something I been wantin’ to do for a long time,” he says in his gruff voice. He plays with your fingers for a moment, searching for the right words. “Darlin’, I… I’m in love with you. I know you know that, I said it often enough.”

You blush and look down before smiling up at him. “I love you too Arthur.”

“That ain’t what I came up here with you to say, though,” he says, clearly scrambling for the right words. He shuffles his feet nervously. “Darlin’, before I met you, I was happy with my life, I didn’t think I needed anything else. But then you came along and it was like I’d seen the moon for the first time. Radiant and completely necessary. I always want ya around, darlin’. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without ya.”

He’s about to take out the ring when he sees your face fall, your smile fading away. You suddenly shake your head, your brows furrowed as you stare at his feet.

“You don’t mean me, Arthur,” you say, pain in your voice. “You… deserve someone so much better than me. Someone pretty and… and skinny.”

His heart breaks when he hears your words. “Darlin’, you’re gorgeous. So what if you’re not like one of them CW girls or a size 6? Can I tell you somethin’?” He puts a finger under your chin and lifts it so you look at him. “If everyone’s body matched the beauty inside ‘em, you’d be the most beautiful woman who ever lived.”

Your eyes suddenly sparkle again, making his stomach flip. “Darlin’, I wanna marry you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he takes a knee and pulls out the ring. He looks up at you, not saying anything, and waits. Tears spring to your eyes and you nod. “Yes, Arthur. I love you so much, I’m scared of thinking what life would be like without you. Yes, yes.”

He smiles like a kid seeing his presents on Christmas Day and he stands up, slides on the ring and pulls you into a tight hug. His heart pounds in your ear and then he pulls away to kiss you.

“Thank you, darlin’. The happiest man in the world wouldn’t feel as ecstatic as I do right now. I love you.”

After Arthur’s proposal, he treated you to dinner at your favorite restaurant in town (even if it is just a burger diner). As he drove you home to his ranch, a familiar light came into his eyes and you know what he wanted. It sent tingles down your body and between your legs.

The moment you get into the house, he pins you against the wall and kisses you hard. His hands start feeling you up, but you push him away and dash into the bedroom. He chases you in but you grab him and throw him down onto the bed. You climb up onto him and rip open his shirt. God, he’s so fucking sexy. Working on a ranch all his life has kept him firm and strong, even though you sometimes make fun of him for his farmer’s tan. He has just the right amount of hair on his chest and stomach, a dark streak leading from his stomach to below his belt.

You start kissing his neck and down to his chest, making him groan. You kiss your way down to his pants and quickly unbuckle them, desperate to see him. His length springs out and you immediately take it into your hands. His hips buck slightly, but you don’t want to get him worked up too quickly.

You release him and sit up straight, stripping out of your shirt. Arthur’s eyes immediately go to your tits and you smile, reaching back and undoing the clasp of your bra. You feel his response beneath you as you throw your bra across the room. His hands reach up and grab your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples. You put your hands over his and stare hard into his eyes, panting a little.

He suddenly flips you onto your back and undoes your pants, sliding them off your legs. Then he hovers over you, his eyes dark.

“Mind if I try somethin’ new on you, darlin’?”

You love that he always asks before doing so and you nod. He quickly strips himself and then grabs your knees, spreading them. His eyes rake over your body until he finds your slit. It makes you shiver with anticipation. His right hand leaves your knee and goes right to your folds, spreading them and his finger finds your clit with ease. His fingers are so warm and calloused, it doesn’t take long for your heat to grow to a boiling point. Arthur’s always been talented at finding your buttons and making you come. He’s the only man you’ve ever slept with who even knew where your clit is, nonetheless how to tease you and make you explode. You remember for a second how your second boyfriend was adamant that the female orgasm wasn’t real. Arthur’s well experienced in the reality of them.

He plays with your clit and teases your nub until you’re writhing beneath him, your heart pounding in your ears. Your knees are starting to shake and a bubble is starting to grow in your stomach, fixing to be popped. He suddenly removes his hand.

“Arthur, please-” you gasp. You open your eyes and find him smiling darkly down at you. Suddenly, he lowers himself and his tongue slides into your folds. His bumpy tongue studies your anatomy and then he begins to suck. You clench the bedsheets to avoid ramming your hips into his face. The warmth and moisture of his mouth is almost enough to make you go off, but with the addition of his sucking, your quickly fixing to burst.

“Oh God! Oh Arthur!” you scream out, the bubble quickly inflating and then bursting. He sucks again and again, further stimulating you and prolonging your orgasm. You finally let out a loud yelp, you simply can’t take anymore. “Arthur, please!” you cry out, your eyes getting wetter.

He pulls away finally, wiping his chin dry. He smiles at you. You pant beneath him and then push him down, grabbing his cock and pumping him with a firm hand. He groans and you drag the fingernails of your free hand down his chest and stomach. He moans and pants beneath you as you take complete control of him. You study his length with your hand, memorizing everything about it. It’s curved slightly, but it’s convenient because it fits you perfectly and the curved tip is able to brush your spot with ease. You hunger for the feeling now.

You stop pumping him so you can angle your hips over his and then sink down onto him. He feels so good as he fills you up. He groans again and he starts thrusting up into you. His hand goes back to tease your clit as his cock brushes your spot over and over again with each thrust, sending you hurtling towards the edge again. His other hand squeezes your hip as his thrusts become more erratic and he starts losing his rhythm. He’s close.

“Shit, Arthur,” you hiss. He chuckles and teases your throbbing nob with his fingers. They go back to tease your sensitive clit and then without warning, you let out a sharp yelp as your orgasm pulses through your body. He grins wickedly and rubs you again and again, sending jerks down to your toes as he prolonges your explosion again.

“Keep it goin’, darlin’,” he grunts.

“Arthur, I…. I can’t…. I’m gonna… gonna…” You pant as another orgasm threatens to overtake you.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” he says, thrusting into you as he circles your clit again and again. On command, you release yourself onto him, turning into jelly as a low scream exits your lungs. As if waiting for you, he suddenly pulls out and releases himself, making a mess on both your stomachs.

“Fuck,” you pant, coming back down to earth. He smiles from down beneath you and then looks down at your joined hips.

“God, darlin’, you know how to make a man happy.”

“Arthur, you did all the work. Let me return the favor,” you say. You slide off of him and begin pumping him with your hands again. Adding to his pleasure, you start kissing all over his neck, chest and stomach. His length is pulsing in your hands, slippery from your own slick. One hand continues to slide up and down his shaft as the other leaves to study the tip, gliding along the slit.

“Fuck!” he groans, his hips bucking up and then he explodes in your hands, adding to the mess on him. You continue pumping him, torturing him as he’d done with you. “Oh, darlin’, please!”

You giggle and then climb back onto him. He grunts and pushes you down again, his length never leaving your folds. He pounds himself into you, clearly working his frustration out on you. He kisses your neck, sucking and licking as your hands squeeze his back.

Within seconds, he releases himself into you. It’s the first time he’s done that. He’s always been careful about not putting his spend into you, but you clearly overworked him.

“Shit,” he says, slumping down onto you. You pat him so he’ll stop crushing you. Your legs are kept spread by his hips, the heat fading into a pleasant fizzle, although you’re definitely going to hurt in the morning. He kisses you soft and gentle, so different from a few moments ago.

“Come on, beautiful,” he says. “Let’s get a shower going.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader smut #awkward asks

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the-black-birb · 4 years

Text

Love in Time Analysis

I wrote this instead of writing an English essay. Enjoy!

Tsukishima and the Reader Character are Foils for One Another – and how that affects their love life

In writing, a foil refers to when one-character shows contrasting qualities of another in order to highlight said qualities. Most often this is between a major and minor character or a protagonist and antagonist, but in this case, we see it between the two major characters.

Love in Time revolves around the contrast between Tsukishima and the Reader’s character traits. In the beginning it is fairly straightforward: the Reader stands up for their friends while Tsukishima constantly puts them down. This is further exemplified in their first meeting: the Reader is helping out Yachi because she is Kenma’s friend and Tsukishima dreads even being with her. This begins the first conflict between the Reader and Tsukishima, in which their differences clash with one another. However, it also highlights a surprising similarity. Both of them appear unafraid of confrontation. This is seen repetitively with Tsukishima’s character: he makes snide remarks on his friend’s posts and is not afraid to tell them what he thinks. But the first time we see this with the Reader is when they first meet Tsukishima in person at their apartment and she calls him out for being generally rude to her friends. In this way, both Tsukishima and the Reader are different from their friends. While they’ve created a whole chat dedicated to keeping an eye on Tsukishima, none of his friends have approached him about his destructive behavior. Similarly, Kenma and Kuroo despite knowing there are problems with Y/N’s situation, never ask them about it. In this, we see Tsukishima and the Reader are set apart from the people around them.

The ‘meet cute’ with the Reader and Tsukishima at his apartment is what truly sets the story in motion. One could argue ‘wasn’t it the first meeting in the art class?’ because that’s when their interactions first began. However, it’s the Reader’s actions at this point that cause Tsukishima to change. Before that, their interactions were coincidences of little consequence, but it is this moment that Tsukishima finally gets his head out of his ass. But why is that?

It’s later established that Tsukishima struggles deeply with insecurities about his college major and path in life, and because of that he shut his friends out. But this wasn’t a decision he made consciously. As he was eaten up by insecurities, he thought that surely everyone around him must be happier than him and chose to put them down. His issues don’t excuse his actions, and the Reader is the one who makes him aware of this in pointing it out to him. The Reader was simply the first person who had the guts to say something to him about it, because all of his friends before that were too consumed with worry that mentioning it might set him off. Because the Reader had only known him since he’d started college, they were able to see him from a broader perspective. And from that perspective, he was a dick.

This obviously causes a greater conflict and disparity between Tsukishima and the Reader with no end in sight and that is where the Ginger incident solves things. In a moment of vulnerability, the Reader relies on Tsukishima for reasons out of their control. Although neither of them wanted to be with each other, they were forced to nonetheless. By being with one another in this moment of vulnerability, it is once again a catalyst for change. Unlike beforehand, where the Reader’s comments caused Tsukki to reflect on his own actions different, now they view each other in a different light. It doesn’t excuse their earlier conflicts, as we see they still don’t get along with each other entirely, but it is a pathway for greater change. That is why when Tsukishima tries to ‘apologize’ for his first comments to the Reader, the Reader believes his apology is sincere even if he doesn’t really say “sorry.”

From here on out, the initial conflict between Tsukishima and the Reader is solved. They don’t really have issues with one another, but they’re still unfamiliar and that makes them awkward. They gain a semblance of friendship; Tsukishima goes with the other guys to visit the Reader while they’re in the art studio and it’s hinted that they have other conversations we aren’t privy to. However, it’s at this point that Tsukishima’s inner conflict with himself comes to light and the use of these two characters, the Reader and Tsukishima, as a foil for one another really begins to make sense.

At the root of Tsukishima’s problems is his fear of having a career that makes him miserable. To Tsukishima, this means he wants to play it safe and take a job where he knows he will make money. He’s always been condescending and of high intellect so he expects it of himself to be better than those around him. However, when he hit college that was proven wrong. Many of his friends are more successful than him, not only in terms of their career but in other ambitions as well. Tadashi and Yachi live together, and no one has any doubt that they will get married. His best friend has managed to find a partner for life and it’s mentioned that he also has a new job. Akaashi is incredibly successful as a writer and his articles are shown to go viral. Finally, Hinata (who Tsukishima always made fun of and looked down on for his ambitions) is living his dream as a professional volleyball player. Compared to them, Tsukishima feels that he has accounted to nothing. Even if he may have a high-paying job in the future, none of that amounts to success.

Enter the Reader. Aside from the conflict with Tsukishima, the Reader hasn’t been shown to have too many personal problems. They go to college and live with friends and generally have a happy-go-lucky attitude. However, the same night that Tsukishima leaves in a fit of anger, it’s revealed that the Reader has been lying about their situation. In truth, they do not have a place to stay or the same success that their friends have been granted. Many of the Reader’s quirks, taking on weird jobs like nude modeling and being overly happy for free food, are explained in a different light.

The Reader’s conflict is different from Tsukishima’s. Almost the exactly opposite, actually, and that is what makes them a successful foil. It’s addressed that the Reader has a fear similar to Tsukishima’s; they don’t want to take on a career that makes them miserable either. However, the way they handle this fear characterizes them much differently from Tsukishima.

The Reader, despite their mother’s wishes, chooses a career path that has very little money to its name. They take a risk, knowing they may become a starving artist, because to them success does not mean the career that is the most stable, but rather the career that makes you happiest. Tsukishima and the Reader’s conflicts are similar because they are both struggling to stay afloat while the people around them are comfortable. This makes it difficult for them to confide in their friends about their issues, and instead they find comfort in one another. This foundation of trust based in mutual struggle is also what makes their relationship successful. Although they are different, they trust one another to understand what they are going through.

Through their differences, the two of them inspire one another to change for the better. When the Reader sees Tsukishima, who has been mothered by his friends since he entered college, they learn to ask others for help willingly. This allows them to go to their mother and speak truthfully so they can achieve a mutual understanding and their mother can help support them. In Tsukishima’s case, seeing the Reader take on a major that doesn’t guarantee a stable income encourages him to pursue a career in something he enjoys, even if he won’t get the big bucks a lawyer does. Their differences inspire change in one another.

While the two work to improve their lives and be honest with themselves and their friends about their conflicts, they stay at one another’s side. Tsukishima is the Reader’s column; he is where they go for stability. Similarly, the Reader is the first person Tsukishima trusts himself to confide in. This allows their romance to be successful because they trust one another. However, this could bring up issues of dependence on one another. That is why the Reader’s apprenticeship is so incredibly important to the story.

The time that the Reader and Tsukishima spend away from each other is after they have worked through numerous conflicts together. This time apart proves that they are independent people who can be successful in their own right without someone constantly at their side. When the Reader left, neither of them were fully ready to be in a relationship because they were still trying to work on themselves. They weren’t ready yet to be fully in love and still trust themselves enough to allow a relationship to foster healthily. But when the Reader returns, the two of them have fought through conflicts both together and alone and are finally ready to be in one another’s company. They don’t need each other, because they are fully realized characters and people in their own right. But they are ready to want each other and be together. That is why it is only at the very end of the story, when they have learned from one another and gotten to a point where they are happy with their own selves, that they are finally ready to be in love.

#love in time

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lonelypond · 3 years

Text

A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol, Ch. 4

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.1K, 4/6

Summary: Maki and Nico struggle with their working relationship, Eli continues overthinking, and Umi saves the afternoon.

Read The Darn Script

Nico enjoyed working on sets. A ever changing group of students keeping up a steady bustle. And progress. Every action made a show one step closer to opening night. Right now, Nico thought, sitting in the back row, staring at the half built unpainted framework of the Christmas Carol backdrop, it could be any show, any era, anywhere, just waiting for actors to step onstage, the lights to come up and the audience to be brought into a world created from imagination. Amazing.

“Umi said you’d be here. You weren’t answering texts.” Maki’s voice announced as the door slammed against the wall.

So much for the theatre being a hushed, hallowed space. Nico giggled, refusing to look at the redhead who slumped into a seat one away from Nico and held out several pages. “Here’s your duet.”

“Duet?” The play was full of them. Nico thought it had been a clever touch. Scrooge gets a solo at the start, then duets, then a finale full of everyone’s voices.

“Marley-Scrooge. Didn’t you say it was the heart of the play?”

Had Nico said that? Probably. “What did you think of Nico’s play?”

“Haven’t read it.”

Nico spun in her seat, “Haven’t read it?”

Maki shrugged, “Not in the mood.”

Nico didn’t know she could grind her teeth, “How can you write music without knowing anything about the play?”

“Scrooge hates people, loves money, ghosts scare the love of money out of him so he reconsiders loving people. It’s the basic Dickens one, right?” The arched eyebrow had enough attitude to out diva a theatre full of leads. Nico had been enjoying the quiet, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“There” and Nico drew out every word, “are character nuances specific to Nico’s script.”

Maki blinked, “You do know composing is different from writing an essay about your writing choices. Just take a look.” Maki poked Nico’s nose with the score sheets.

Nico batted them away, “Play it for Nico..”

“I’m busy.”

“Nico is also busy.”

“I’m doing you a favor.”

That was too much for Nico, “You’re doing your job. Composer in residence. Assigned to provide music for Nico’s lyrics so that Nico can showcase her A Christmas Carol adaptation during the Christmas pageant.” Nico stood, stepping into the gap between them, “Nico spent years working on this. Show some respect.” Nico ripped the pages out of Maki’s hand, turned and stormed out of the theatre.

That hadn’t gone any of the ways Maki had anticipated.

###

Eli shuffled the cards, sitting cross legged on the floor of her studio. Let them pick? Would random be fairer? Was she overthinking? Why had Nozomi perked up so much when Nico had mentioned Umi singing? Shaking herself, Eli glanced at herself in the mirror, took out the scrunchie holding her ponytail together and let her hair fall. She was doing her students no favors getting so distracted. It had been so nice to flirt, to have someone NOTICING her. It had also been nice having someone concerned about simple things like if she was eating. It was too easy to get into the dance masochist mindset, pushing everything aside to spend all available time and energy on art. Eli had grown up in that environment, scrambling for attention and parts, obsessing over form and appearance, seeing every other dancer as a rival. It had brought out all her worst traits and when the opportunity to teach at an advanced level here had opened up, Eli had packed up her life as soon as she opened the job offer email. But it had still been lonely. The students were respectful, but responded to Eli’s professionalism by stepping back. And while there had been a whirl of introducing the faculty events, Eli’s commitment to the barre didn’t allow for much socializing.

And if she didn’t decide which students got which dances soon, she would have even less time for socializing.

###

Maki was in the undecorated, anti holiday booth, now labelled Professor Scrooge’s corner, facing the side wall, perpendicular to the entrance. In front of her, Nico’s script, a seemingly innocuous pile of paper. Her coffee was cold. It was obviously a slow afternoon because Nozomi had seemingly limitless time to stare at her. And was now approaching with a cup of fresh coffee. Nozomi sat down, dipped a finger in Maki’s old cup, and winced, “Missed opportunity there. Was a good pot. Brought you new.”

Maki sighed. “Thanks.”

Nozomi pushed the script with a finger, “Want me to read it to ya? We could make it a bedtime story kinda thing.”

Maki actually recoiled, her chair colliding with the wall, her face pale. Nozomi giggled.

Nozomi picked up a couple of pages, scanning them, “Hey, this is cute.”

Maki frowned. Cutesy Christmas had been her ongoing nightmare for the past two years.

“You’re going to hate it.” Nozomi winked, “There’s decorations everywhere.”

“Scrooge wouldn’t.”

“No, but Cratchitt does. A little oasis of merry. And then there’s Fred.”

Maki found herself willing an influx of student customers, noisy and boisterous and thirsty. Freds. They refused to appear on cue.

“What did Christmas do to you?” Nozomi wondered, this time out loud.

This had been a mistake, Maki realized. Too public. But if Maki had tried reading in her studio with the piano right there, the script would have had no chance at all. Maybe she could sneak into an empty classroom or the back of the theatre when Nico was finished with today’s building activity.

“Thank you for the coffee.” Maki put the script back in her bag, stood, picked up the coffee and fled. It was in a ceramic mug.

Nozomi leaned back, thoughtful. She wasn’t having much recent success with keeping an audience.

###

Nico sat at the rehearsal piano, the music Maki had written propped up. Inhale. Find the keys, play through once slowly to make sure she remembered which keys...there were a lot, this would be slow going. After a tangle mid keyboard over a question of chording, Nico closed her eyes, groaned, inhaled, and began again…

“Nico?” Umi Sonoda’s voice rolled in from the back of the theatre Nico had reclaimed after a quick walk along the Riverside trail to vent some anger.

“Hi, Umi. Nico will be with you in a minute. Or an hour.”

Umi had quickly reached the piano at her usual pace and now leaned over Nico’s shoulder. “Would you like me to play for you?”

“Do you have your violin?”

Umi shook her head, “Not with me and I won’t do it justice with my skill on the piano, but if you’ll forgive me sightreading, I can play it for you. If that would help.”

“Nico could have managed, but if you really want to do Nico a favor.”

Umi smiled as Nico vacated the bench at high speed, “If that is your wish.”

“Nico’s wish was for Maki to play it when she dropped it off and to have read Nico’s play but at least now Nico has something to audition actors with so Nico…

“Is Maki a problem?” Umi read through the pages once, returned them to the stand and began the sprightly lament.

Nico had one hand on Umi’s shoulder and was tapping along on the piano, shook her head, “Nico’s got it. Nothing a little more communication can’t fix. Nico likes to let artists find their stride.”

“Wise. Maki is dedicated, but new to collaborations.”

“Nico could tell.”

“How is she doing with the choreographer, Ms. Ayase?” Umi continued the conversation without interfering with the smooth flow of music. “I heard there was some friction over Maki’s decision to highlight the works of Duke Ellington.”

“Something which Nico supports. And I’ve been talking to Eli. She’s nervous about trusting her students so Nico’s been encouraging her. Newbie teacher nerves.”

“Ah.” Umi had played through twice, “You really do have things under control.”

“Of course, Nico is always on top.” Nico’s casual tone matched her lean against the piano, half paying attention, half planning duet combinations for the students who’d signed up to audition.

Umi choked on saliva.

That caught Nico’s attention and she quickly reviewed what she’d said, then grinned. “Nico is always on top of any…situation, Professor Sonoda. The Conservatory is a family institution, what else could Nico mean?”

Umi could feel the wink in the air and knew she deserved it.

“We will be avoiding the works of Cole Porter at the next gathering.”

Nico giggled, “Play the song again, please. Nico wants to sing.”

“Scrooge or Marley? I’ll take the other part.”

This was going to be a memorable afternoon. The prim Umi Sonoda in an almost playful mood, willing to duet with Nico on a Yazawa-Nishikino original.

“Marley.” The trickier part, especially as Nishikino had written it, surprising Nico who thought the lead would be the obvious stronger part. But no, Marley had a much wider range and so many emotional layers.

“Bah Humbug.” Umi declared in a ringing, stentorian tone that Nico would have never let pass from an actor on stage and the duet began.

###

A single dorm room had seemed like an ideal sanctuary for an only child like Shizuku, but right now, a passel of roommates would have been a welcome distraction from worrying about tomorrow’s audition for Professor Yazawa. Shizuku’s phone went off, she grabbed it like a lariat around the neck of a bucking bronco. Text. Kasumi.

K: Kasumin has dessert, let me up.

S: Trying to fatten me up before auditions.

K: ; )

S: I’ll be right down.

###

Maki had been staring at the text for half of Yo Yo Ma’s Bach Cello concerto, so an hour. Send or erase. But do it now. Closing her eyes, she pictured Nico storming out of the theatre, anger in her ruby eyes. As she kept reviewing the scene in her head, Maki realized she’d recognized hurt too. Auditions were tomorrow. Maki didn’t know much about the practicalities of theatre, but the day before anything was usually stressful. Biting the inside of her lip, Maki sent the message.

M: Christmas is still hard, but your script deserves my full attention. I’m sorry. I have another song ready for you. Are you still on campus? I can run it over.

Instant ping.

N: Nico is at home, could you please bring it by? A second song for auditions would be a big help to Nico.

Drop and run. Maki could do that. She didn’t want to spend another night in her studio, falling asleep at the piano. She could pick up a pizza to take home and then read the rest of Nico’s script.

M: Sure.

N: Nico appreciates it. My apartment is the upper floor of 2525 Cherry Blossom Lane.

N: if you haven’t eaten, Nico has leftovers.

M: I was going to pick up a pizza.

N: Save it for another night. Home cooked is better.

Maki grabbed her long coat, pulling a black beanie over her hair. Couldn’t hurt to be polite, could it?

###

Nico opened the door. There was warmth. And no holiday decorations, which was a relief. Maki had walked over, taking her time, which was a more than leisurely enough journey to be chilled. Nico still looked professorial, with a pink, wool cowl neck sweater and a ruffle skirt. Maki felt like an undergrad in her jeans and t-shirt, although her long gray cashmere coat could crash Carnegie Hall and fit into an opening night crowd.

“Hi, Maki! Thanks for running the music over.”

Maki nodded, glancing around the small apartment. The decorating scheme leaned cozy cute and pink, with pictures of Nico and people who looked a lot like Nico artfully placed around the room. A red framed black and white print was over the fireplace. A cute, gamine woman in black capri pants, a white turtleneck, and a wide belt with a star in the center, slinking playfully forward.

“Who’s that?” Maki asked.

“You don’t know?” Nico clucked as she shut the door, “Rita Moreno, Nico’s hero.”

Maki tilted her head, “Why?”

“EGOT.”

“Egret?”

Nico sighed, “Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony...only 15 people have won all of them.”

“Impressive.”

Nico shrugged, not really interested in things she already knew. “Sit on the couch, Nico will cook food, if you feel like playing what you’ve composed for Nico, the keyboard’s right there. Nico was working on the duet.”

“Do you want to win awards?” Maki was curious.

“Well, the Pulitzer will look nice in front of that print. They’ll probably give us each one.”

Such confidence. Maki had no response to it so continued the find out more about Nico quest.

“Have you always wanted to be a playwright?”

Maki heard Nico turn something and then Nico was standing in the archway of the kitchen. She’d added an apron with patchwork pink hearts scattered over it and was holding a whisk, “If you’re interviewing Nico, can it wait ‘til after the cooking? Nico is a master chef but omelettes take concentration.”

“Sorry.” Maki grabbed a pink pillow, also ruffled, and propped her chin on it.

###

Not an omelette, but omurice.

“Itadakimasu. Nico said and Maki muttered the same, pleasantly surprised by the Japanese custom.

“Childhood comfort food.” Nico smiled as Maki dug into her serving ravenously, “It reminded my mom of Tokyo.”

“When did she move here?”

“She and my dad did when I was a baby, before my siblings were born. Her job transferred her.”

“My family goes back and forth. My Dad is still on the board of the hospital we own there, but actually practices medicine here. I was born in Chicago though, he teaches at Northwestern.”

“Chicago is a great theatre town. Nico has visited once or twice.”

“Yeah, I always tried to see what the Goodman was staging, when I wasn’t studying.” Medical school and the accelerated undergrad program that had gotten her into medical school had left Maki almost no free time.

“Nico applied to Northwestern’s theatre department but got the job here instead.”

Natural pause in the conversation, both women eating and remembering separate experiences in Chicago.

Before things got awkward again, Maki decided to brave the thing she needed to address. Scraping her fork over the plate, she dove. “I didn’t mean to disrespect the work you put into A Christmas Carol.”

A pause. Nico leaned back on her couch, her legs underneath her, observing the woman fidgeting three feet down the couch from her, “Nico is listening.”

Maki scrubbed her hands through her hair in a manic burst, then sped through her next sentences, “I’ve just been trying so hard to avoid anything Christmas related and that’s nearly impossible this time of year and every time I open up your script, there’s Scrooge feeling the same way that I do about decorations and Fred being impossibly cheerful and…”

“You want Scrooge to take his cane and tear through decorations.”

Maki nodded, looking a little sheepish.

“Read the script. Maybe he does.” Nico grabbed both their plates and hustled to the kitchen, scraping them off. Maki heard the sound of the sink being filled. Nico wasn’t coming back right away. Maki decided to lean in the kitchen doorway and watch as Nico filled the dishwasher.

“Always stay ahead of chores.” Nico said in her best NPR announcer voice.

“Not looking for life advice.”

Nico chuckled, “That’s the polite way to say ‘you’re not my mother.’”

Maki laughed.

“Nico needs to get ahead before auditions. There’s a freezer full of meals, two months worth of instant coffee, every kind of medicinal tea Nico might need, and emergency brownie batter.”

“Are shows that complicated?”

Nico turned, eyes narrowed, “Have you never been part of a play or opera or…”

Maki shook her head.

Nico grimaced, “Oh, this will be fun for Nico.”

Maki was surprised by the sarcasm, and hastened to reassure Nico. “I’ll be fine. I’m very flexible.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “Nico doesn’t need flexible; Nico needs prepared.”

Maki couldn’t imagine a situation involving music she couldn’t resolve, prepared or not. “Like I said, I’ll be fine. It’s a small ensemble.”

“Students are relying on us.” Suddenly Nico was right under Maki’s nose, eyes glowing like laser sights, “Nico doesn’t need “fine” or emo Christmas pity parties, Nico needs polished and professional. We have to put together a show over four weeks that contain several holidays. Fine is not what Nico wants to hear.”

“Don’t worry.” Maki stepped away from Nico.

Nico turned back to the sink, “Nico will worry less when you’ve read the script and finished the songs.”

###

Maki finished the song with a flourish. Nico had been unable to fight off a smile while listening so Maki thought she might have earned some points back.

“That was funnier than Nico expected.”

“Scrooge creeping up the stairs afraid of the dark should be funny.” Maki put the keyboard back on the low table and flopped back on Nico’s couch. “Plus, it’s a perfect moment for Scrooge’s charm to show through.”

“Scrooge isn’t charming. Scrooge is snarling.”

“And charming.”

“You’re going to make this gay again.”

“I didn’t see a song for the 20 questions type game at Fred’s party.”

“That’s because that scene gets the fun, flirty Blindman’s bluff song, which you would know if…”

“Maki read Nico’s script.”They said in unison. And laughed. Maki relaxed, just slightly.

Nico flopped back, turning her head and meeting Maki’s gaze. “I know it’s a lot and I appreciate what you’ve done so far.”

“It’s my job.” A soft, calm light in brilliant amethyst eyes, a satisfied private smile..

“It is.” A peaceful moment, quiet enough to hear the wall clock ticking, and then Nico’s face became a mask of horror, “And Nico’s job starts extra early tomorrow.” Nico stood, “C’mon, Nico will drive you home.”

Maki glanced at the time, past midnight. “I can walk home.”

“No one walks home alone on Nico’s watch, especially not in that neighborhood you live in.” As quickly as she said that, Nico had her coat on, keys in hand. “And the faster you get home, the faster songs get written.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Maki grabbed her coat, feeling an odd flutter as Nico held the door open.

“If you finish the Christmas Present duet by breakfast, Nico will give you a 24 hour pass about the script thing.”

“Don’t I get to sleep?”

“Nico will sleep for you.”

“You’re a tyrant, aren’t you.”

There was a wink and an arm slipped through hers and Maki was being skillfully guided down the stairs.

“Nico is a winner.”

Maki was beginning to believe it.

A/N: It's been a week. Or three. But I finished a chapter. Hope your Spring has something bright in it.

#NicoMaki #NozoEli #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Sonoda Umi #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol #holiday #fluff #etc

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as-write-as-rain · 5 years

Text

Love Song

Pairing: Bassist!Bucky x Singer!Reader

Summary: Everyone in this band is your best friend, but you wish the bassist was a little more than that.

Warnings: PG Language. Lots of Fluff!

This is for @kentuckybarnes' 3k Writing Challenge! Here's your Rockstar!AU one-shot featuring Bucky w/ a Bass, I hope you enjoy it!! Here's my first attempt at fanfiction, and I've probably been overthinking it, but I'm fairly happy with the result. Please be kind!

You drew your coat tighter around yourself, hurrying across the quiet street. The streetlight illuminated the snow drifting through the air, giving a peaceful feeling to the night…but you barely even noticed. You were running late for practice, and you really weren’t in the mood to hear another lecture from Steve – not after the day you’d had. Work had been busy as hell, because someone had called in sick and you had to pick up the slack; then, when you’d finally clocked out and headed to class, you got your philosophy paper back with a big fat D at the top. All you wanted to do right now was hang out somewhere warm with your favorite people in the world and make some music. Luckily, you were finally on your way there now!

Everyone looked up as you (accidentally) slammed the door open to Steve’s apartment. Tossing them a “sorry!” cringe, you stomped your boots on the mat, trying to dislodge as much snow as you could. The last thing you needed was a bunch of puddles creating a real safety hazard in the middle of your jam session! Stuffing your hat and scarf into a pocket, you hung your coat from one of the hooks on the wall, and joined your friends in the living room.

“’Bout time you got here, girl – we were wondering where you were!” Sam’s voice, dripping in sarcasm, made it crystal clear how he felt about having had to wait for you, and the withering look you shot him in response only made him laugh. You’d been friends since third grade, and always liked to give each other a hard time. Carol was setting up her keyboard, but she tossed you one of her patented wry smiles, her twinkling eyes speaking volumes about what she thought of Sam’s antics. Thankfully, Steve was engrossed in a pile of papers and only glanced up briefly enough to give you a quick nod as you passed, before returning to his work.

You took a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself before turning towards the couch, where you had already spied Bucky out of the corner of your eye. He had one leg up on the edge of the couch where he was tuning his bass, but as you approached he looked up and smiled. You steadfastly ignored the way it made your heart squeeze, and just gave him a breezy smile in return, dropping your laptop bag onto the cushions with a little more force than you meant to.

He instinctively leaned a little closer to you, and, in a quiet voice, asked, “How’s it going?” You glanced over, appreciating the way he tried to keep the question just between the two of you, instead of involving the whole room in the conversation. His attention was focused on the tuning pegs, but when you didn’t answer right away he looked over at you, tossing his head slightly so his shoulder-length hair fell back from his grey-blue eyes.

You sighed. “It’s going.” His expression turned sympathetic, and, with a half-shrug, you elaborated, “Today was kinda shit, but now I’m here and ready to rock out with you guys.”

His eyes searched yours, trying to make sure you were really okay, and the kindness and concern you saw in them made you secretly weak. “Well, I’m always here for you, if you wanna talk about it later.”

“Thanks, Buck,” was all you trusted yourself to say, and, with a small smile, you busied yourself with pulling out your music while he finished tuning his instrument. After a few seconds you peeked back at him out of the corner of your eye. His hair had fallen back across his face, and what you could see of his expression was once again serious. His focus was back on his gleaming silver guitar with its single bright red star, and you let your gaze linger on his lips before dropping to admire the way his muscles flexed while tuning it. Had he been working out? You could have sworn they were even bigger than usual, and he’d never been scrawny to begin with.

Steve cleared his throat and you quickly looked up to where he was standing in the middle of the room. “Anytime you’re ready, Y/N.” Trying not to look guilty (did he catch you checking Bucky out? Or is he just annoyed that you were late?), you nodded and stepped over to the mic.

Closing your eyes, you took three deep breaths, releasing the stress of the day and the pressures of the world; leaving behind the Harried Barista, Stressed College Student, and Pining Best Friend parts of your personality in favor of fully embodying your Rock Goddess persona. Everything that happened before this moment, you let fall away; right now, there was only you and the music. When you opened your eyes again, you felt fierce and self-possessed, filled with a deadly calm and ready to sing your heart out.

Carol was already poised, hands on the keys, and Sam sat behind his drum set, both of them looking to Steve, who was holding his guitar and tapping his foot to set the rhythm for the first song. Bucky got into position and faced forward, eyes on you. This was always his favorite part, watching you come alive in front of the mic. He saw your eyes open and your whole posture change, and he smiled to himself. Now we can rock.

Steve started first, then Sam, Carol, and Bucky last of all. You guys knew this song forwards and backwards, so it was almost like a warm-up for you. You grabbed the mic and started out quiet, gradually getting louder as the song built. It was so familiar and so freeing that you were grinning by the time the song was over. A glance at the rest of your friends told you they felt the same way.

The five of you had been friends forever, and Future Captains grew naturally out of your shared love of music. It started out as a fun project, but soon you realized you sounded really good together. Eventually, you’d all gotten kind of serious about it, and everyone had come into their own: Steve (and sometimes Carol) provided additional vocals, Sam was a genius at publicity, and Bucky excelled at managing most of what went on behind the scenes. And of course, everyone had only gotten better and better at playing their respective instruments as time went on. You loved to sing -- but more than that, you adored performing as a band, all of you creating music collectively, because it felt like you were part of something bigger than you, like you were sharing a soul for a few minutes in time. Whenever you sang, you felt powerful and unstoppable, and life seemed to make sense again. So, you eagerly lost yourself in the music, surrendering all your worries and just letting the songs flow through you.

After a couple of hours, you’d gone through all your material, both the older songs and the newer stuff you were still fine-tuning. You chugged from your water bottle and beamed at your band mates, invigorated. Carol winked, Sam gave you two thumbs up, and Bucky’s grin seemed to mirror your own.

Steve was smiling too, and as he started wrapping up cords and putting away his red, white, and blue guitar, he praised, “Great job, guys, we sounded amazing. I think we’re going to blow everyone away at the gig next week.” More smiles all around before he continued, “I’m almost done with those new songs I’ve been working on; I should have them done by Thursday’s practice, so we’ll try them out then.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait!” Carol cooed in that dry tone that always sounded a little teasing. When Steve glanced over to see whether she was being sincere, she continued, “I mean it! You’re a really great songwriter, Steve. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Steve blushed and shrugged. “Well, thanks. But I’m not the only one! You guys are super talented too, and if any of you ever want to write a song, just let me know. I’m more than happy to share the songwriting responsibilities!” He looked around the room, holding everyone’s gaze for a few seconds, looking at Bucky last. Bucky studiously avoided eye contact, busying himself with putting his own guitar away.

The mic was the easiest item of all to put away, so after stowing it in its box you’d helped Sam dismantle his drum set and store the pieces safely in the corner. Addressing the room at large, you clapped your hands together and asked in a chipper tone, “Anybody up for a drink down at the bar? I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve had a hell of a day.”

Sam was first to jump at the chance, and Carol was happy to join in. With an apologetic look, Steve explained that he had an early test tomorrow that he really needed to study for. Bucky hesitated just a second. “I’d love to, but I have an essay I need to finish.” Seeing your disappointment, he scrambled to add, “It’s almost done, maybe I can finish it up quick and meet you guys?” The three of you nodded, and he quickly decided that the smile you gave him was worth whatever grade he would end up getting on his half-baked paper.

He watched you, Carol, and Sam grab your jackets and head out the door, and when you turned back with a little wave, he gave you a grin that looked a lot more confident than he felt. The door shut, and he turned away, only to see Steve sitting at the kitchen table, regarding him knowingly.

Frowning, he growled, “What?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s voice was annoyingly patronizing.

With a sigh, Bucky turned towards his room, intending to ignore Steve’s smugness and hurry to finish his paper, but he’d gotten only a few steps before he heard him speak again.

“You should just tell her how you feel, Buck. I’m pretty sure she likes you, too. You guys would make a great couple.”

Whirling around, Bucky scowled at his roommate. “What are you talking about?”

Steve sat back in his chair and just gave him his patented look. Bucky jutted out his chin and crossed his arms, determined to be just as stubborn. Steve broke first, giving a short huff of laughter and shaking his head with a smile. “You’re my best friend, Buck, and so is she. It’s clear you have feelings for Y/N, and I wish you would just come clean, instead of pining over her and acting so weird and defensive. You’d be good for each other.”

Bucky looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve sighed. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. I’ve got my test to study for anyway, and I know you’ve got to finish your paper.”

A little over a half hour later, Bucky sat at his computer, reading over his paper one last time. It definitely wasn’t his best work, but it was pretty solid. He’d probably get a C; anything higher than that would require significantly more time and effort, and he wasn’t willing to spend any more of either at this point. His mind was already thinking ahead to seeing you at the bar, maybe find out what was bothering you – or at the very least, get to cheer you up and spend some time together. He loved just being in your presence, making you laugh or smile. You were like the sun to him, you seemed to warm his very soul; and he couldn’t get enough.

He quickly emailed his essay to his professor, grabbed his stuff, and headed for the living room. Steve must have heard his footsteps, because he stuck his head out of the kitchen, probably about to nag him again. “Hey, Buck –“

Bucky cut him off, calling out loudly, “Sorry, Steve – gotta run!” as he rushed out the door into the cold.

Steve sighed, looking down at the books his roommate had left in the kitchen. The clutter was really distracting him (probably because he might have been eager for any distraction at all from his studying, which was turning out to be very boring indeed), and he had hoped Bucky would take his stuff back into his room. “I guess I’ll just do it myself, then,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the stack. A page fluttered out of the notebook on the bottom of the pile. “Oops,” Steve bent to retrieve it, and then pulled up short. He’d expected it to be chemistry notes, but this was laid out like a poem, and the unexpected formatting caught his attention.

His eyes skimmed over the stanzas. “Aw, Buck….” The wheels in his head started turning.

As soon as he opened the door to the bar, Bucky could hear one of his favorite sounds in the world: your laughter. The place was about as busy as you’d expect for a Tuesday, and it wasn’t hard to spy the three of you in a booth, laughing uproariously about whatever story Sam had just finished telling. He stopped at the counter to order a beer before heading your way. Carol spied him and waved animatedly, as though he hadn’t already seen you guys; you snorted at her antics and took another sip of your drink before giving him a quick hug hello.

Sam’s story seemed to remind Carol of something similar that had happened to her once, and soon the four of you were in stitches, imagining her incredibly serious Lit professor going to lean back against the desk like he always did – only to find that the desk wasn’t exactly where he thought it was…and ending up on his ass on the ground instead.

“Everybody laughed, even Dr. Snyder – and then he swept right back into discussing Camus again, as though nothing had happened. You would not have been able to handle it, Y/N!”

You put your hands on your hips, trying to look menacing, or at least offended. “What’s that supposed to mean??”

Sam shoved your shoulder, shaking his head and laughing. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know what we’re talking about. You can never keep it together when something strikes you as funny – especially when everyone’s supposed to be super serious. Remember that assembly in high school where you couldn’t stop laughing and you ended up getting detention for it?”

You grimaced, facepalming when Bucky joined in the teasing, asking, “Which time??” The three of them laughed even harder, and you had to give it up and join them, even though you were blushing brightly. This is why you’d wanted to come to the bar, after all, to relax and just have some fun; and besides, you really couldn’t deny that they were absolutely right.

Once the laughter had died down, Carol stood up, announcing that she was going to request some songs on the Jukebox. Sam shouted after her, reminding her to put some Marvin Gaye in the rotation, and she rolled her eyes and waved a hand at him to signify that she was well aware of Sam Wilson’s Jukebox Rules. Satisfied, Sam sat back, taking a swig of beer and surveying the room.

“Hey, Buck, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that blonde in the corner hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you got here.”

Bucky, who’d been about to nudge you and try to initiate conversation, was startled by the sudden change in topic, and froze. “What?”

Sam leaned in conspiratorially, a smirk on his face. “It’s your lucky day, man; looks like she’s heading this way. And her friend is cute!”

You barely had time to react before the two girls reached the table, and Sam was already hailing them with that swagger that you usually made you laugh, but somehow tonight was just getting on your nerves.

The girls giggled, and you swore you saw the blonde bat her eyelashes at Bucky. Who does that??

You grabbed your drink and hopped out of the booth, trying to appear chill despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. “I think I need another one of these,” you mumbled, even though nobody had asked.

The blonde had placed her hand on Bucky’s bicep, but his eyes stayed on you as you marched up to the bar and shone that million-watt smile on the bartender. Of course the guy started flirting immediately, who could resist you? Clenching his jaw, Bucky turned his attention back to his admirer, who was asking, “You know, you guys look familiar, have we met before?”

Sam preened. “You might have seen our band play around town, we’re the Future Captains?”

The girls squealed. “That’s what it is! You guys rock!!”

The blonde squeezed Bucky’s arm. “You’re the bassist, right? You’re incredible,” she breathed.

He smiled widely despite himself. “Thanks for the compliment, doll.”

“We’re playing at the House of Blues next Wednesday night, you girls should come check us out.” Sam really excelled at promoting the band, which Bucky was secretly grateful for, since it meant he didn’t have to hold up much of a conversation, and could continue watching you surreptitiously. The bartender was being extra friendly, and Bucky was trying really hard not to crush his beer bottle in his fist.

The conversation around him carried on without him even noticing, and he almost didn’t even hear Sam addressing him directly.

“Bucky, you coming, man?”

He focused back in on Sam’s face, searching his memory to see if he could remember the last thing someone had said. “Uh…”

Sam rolled his eyes. “To the party? That these lovely ladies have invited us to?” He gave him a very pointed look, clearly trying to telegraph something with his eyes. Whatever he was trying to say, it was definitely lost on Bucky.

“Uh, no, thanks. I’m gonna hang with Y/N, that was the whole point of coming here, after all – what kind of friend would I be if I abandoned her?”

Sam paused. “You’re right, bro, maybe I should stay too?”

Glancing around at the ladies waiting impatiently, and Sam’s conflicted expression, he made a quick decision. “Nah, you go. It’s totally your scene, and I’m sure she’ll understand. I just don’t want to leave her completely alone.”

Sam shrugged, standing and putting an arm around each of his new fans. “You’re right. She’s a big girl, she’ll get it. And it’s not like she can’t handle herself.” With a quick wave in your direction, and one at Carol (who was still close to the jukebox, seemingly deep in conversation with an admirer of her own), he donned his jacket and left.

Meanwhile, you were flattered by the bartender’s attention, and while it wasn’t really doing much to raise your spirits, it did ensure that you got a nice, strong drink. Besides, he was cute enough, and you knew from experience how hard a job in the service industry could be. So you played along with his small talk; it’s not like you were in a rush to get back to your friends and watch some strange girl fawn all over Bucky. But the bar soon got a bit of a rush, and when you snuck a glance back at the table, you were surprised to discover Bucky sitting all by himself, with neither strange girls nor Sam anywhere in sight. Grabbing your drink and sliding the bartender a generous tip, you made your way to Bucky.

He greeted you with a big smile, sliding over to let you into the booth. “Where’d Sam go?” you asked, searching the room one last time as you sat down.

“He went to a party with his new friends,” Bucky offered.

“You didn’t want to go?”

Your surprise was written all over your face, and Bucky shrugged, chuckling. “And leave my best girl behind? No way!”

You took a sip of your drink to disguise how flustered you felt. You were his best girl? What did that even mean?? You settled for playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “Well, thanks, Buck. I definitely appreciate it.”

The grateful smile on your face made his heart explode, and he was instantly glad for every decision he’d made tonight. He impulsively put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a side hug.

You returned his hug with a happy sigh, and when he didn’t withdraw his arm after the hug was over, you snuggled in close to him. It almost felt like old times, before you had developed this pesky crush and were just as comfortable being affectionate with Bucky as with the rest of the group.

Speaking of, you spied Carol finally returning to the table, and grinned. “And where have you been?” you teased.

She rolled her eyes as she climbed back into the booth. “What can I say? Who am I to snub a fan?” The three of you laughed at her pretended cockiness, and you settled in to listen to her next hilarious story. Your heart felt lighter and happier than it had all day, and once again you gave thanks for having such awesome friends in your life.

Your spirits were high by the time the next rehearsal rolled around. The rest of the week had been pretty low-key at work, and you hadn’t had any big assignments or tests in any of your classes, which was a relief. You even talked Carol into heading to practice early, hoping to hang out with your bandmates a little longer.

You stopped by work to grab a round of coffees (or hot chocolates!) for everyone, and then headed to Steve’s. When you & Carol got there, they’d left the door unlocked for you, and you walked in to find them watching some ridiculous old 90s movie they found playing on cable. They greeted both of you with smiles and hugs (and excitement about the drinks!), and invited you to join them. After only the slightest hesitation, you opted to sit on the sofa next to Bucky, while Carol sank into one of the big plushy chairs facing the TV. Bucky grinned at you as you sat down, and you couldn’t help but notice he looked even better than usual today, in a blue shirt that really brought out the color of his eyes. He stretched his arm across the back of the couch, inviting you to snuggle up close to him as always, and you couldn’t resist doing so. He was so warm and safe, which was quite a welcome situation to be in after walking in the snow. So you curled up into his side and took a fortifying sip of your cocoa, letting yourself be warmed both inside and out.

The movie was over by the time Sam arrived, and the four of you had just been chatting about life, work, school, and upcoming gigs. Carol was draped sideways over the arms of the comfy chair, her hair hanging over one side and her legs dangling over the other; Steve sat on the floor with his back against the couch, fiddling with an old Rubik’s cube he’d found under the coffee table.

As Sam grabbed himself something to drink from the fridge, Steve checked the clock and realized it was time to get rehearsal started. Standing in front of you all still in the TV room, he adopted the tone you all recognized as Business Steve.

“Okay guys, I finished the songs I was working on, you ready to hear them?”

You all whooped in response, enthusiastic as ever to hear what Steve came up with. He was great with lyrics, but it was really his melodies and arrangements that always blew you away, personally. He had a real talent for that sort of thing, and you loved to encourage him.

Steve dragged over a music stand and his acoustic guitar, sitting down in the comfy chair that Carol had vacated to join you on the couch. Sam plopped himself into the other comfy chair, still nursing his drink. Steve played a few chords, and just as you thought he was about to sing, he stopped and coughed.

“Uh, Buck, you think you could help me with this?”

Bucky looked like he’d been caught passing notes in class. “Huh?”

“Wanna come up here and sing this for me?”

“Why?” Bucky said, blankly. You didn’t blame him for being confused; Steve usually debuted new songs by singing them himself, and this was the first time he’d ever asked someone else to do it instead.

“Because my asthma has been acting up, and I don’t think I can do it today.” Steve sounded like he was trying very hard to be patient, and you fought to keep yourself from snickering at how odd he was acting.

Bucky stood up, looking concerned. “Oh shit, man, I’m sorry. I hadn’t even noticed. Have you been wheezing or anything? Should we make a doctor’s appointment?”

Steve’s face was starting to turn red, and you grabbed onto Carol’s arm, biting your lip and avoiding eye contact with her, knowing it would make you crack up. She put her hand over yours and gave a sympathetic squeeze as Steve continued in a slightly strained voice. “I think I’ll be okay, Buck, but I just don’t want to exacerbate it by singing today. Can you just please come sing for me instead?”

Bucky obediently got up and crossed the room, taking the pages Steve handed him and looking them over. You were so busy struggling to control the laughter that was threatening to burst out of you, you didn’t even notice how Bucky suddenly got really still and tense. His eyes hardened, and darted over suspiciously to Steve, who was diligently focused on his guitar, apparently tuning it even though he’d been playing it just fine minutes before.

“What is this?” Bucky asked in a steely tone, very quietly so that only Steve could hear.

“It’s our new song,” Steve announced brightly to the room in general. “You ready to start, Buck?”

Bucky swallowed, glancing quickly at everyone, his eyes lingering just a second longer on you before going back to the music in his hands. There really was no way out of this, he had to just plow through and hope he made it to the other side. “Sure.” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

Steve smiled a wide, too-innocent smile, and started strumming again. After a few moments, Bucky began to sing.

I know every little thing about you And you know all about me too But not everything, I have a secret How have you not noticed yet?

You had always loved Bucky’s voice, gravelly and rich. But for whatever reason, he usually preferred to leave the vocal parts to Steve, so you didn’t get to hear him sing as often as you’d liked. Your earlier amusement already forgotten, you smiled, letting his warm voice wash over you while you listened to the lyrics and tried to imagine yourself singing this song in the future.

We've known each other since we were small Never dreamed that I would fall But every day I have to pretend Because you’re also my best friend

His voice, tremulous at first, had grown stronger as the song continued, but on this last line it cracked just a little. Then the rhythm changed, and it was clear the chorus was approaching.

You shine like the sun and I'm only a shadow The center of my world but you'll never know You're everything I've ever wanted I'm haunted

The song was beautiful, but, more than that, the lines were breaking your heart. They seemed to exactly describe how you felt about Bucky. But, how did Steve know? Was this some kind of joke? Had he figured out how you felt and was outing you to Bucky? Even as these panicked thoughts occurred to you, your rational mind had to point out Steve would never be that cruel. But as the verses started up again, you sat up a little straighter, trying to pay closer attention to what was really going on here.

When we're together, I have to hide Got to keep it all inside But deep within I'm falling apart Because I’m already losing my heart

The emotion in Bucky’s voice was raw, and you found yourself incredibly moved. And in that moment, your heart seemed to stop. Maybe this song wasn’t from your point of view at all. But did you dare to hope?

I don't know what to say So I hold my tongue another day What if you don't feel the same? I don't want anything to change

You shine like the sun and I'm only a shadow The center of my world but you'll never know You're everything I've ever wanted I'm haunted

The notes slowed down and time seemed to stretch out with them, as he sang the final coda.

I'd give everything just to have you be mine Worship you all of the time But I'm so afraid to cross that line

As the song ended and the last chords died out, a silence hung in the room, like the world was holding its breath. Your eyes were threatening to overflow with tears, but you didn’t move. Bucky stood still, not looking up; afraid to see your reaction. He felt like his heart had been laid bare, and he was terrified to see what came next.

You looked back and forth between him and Steve, desperately trying to figure out if what you hoped was happening was actually true. When you caught Steve’s eye, he was already looking directly at you. He raised a brow and ever so slightly tipped his head, nodding towards Bucky.

You felt frozen; you didn’t know what to do. Next to you, Carol cleared her throat, and suddenly you remembered there were other people in the room.

“Great song, I love it!” she crowed, her voice startlingly loud after such an extended quiet. “Um, Sam, I just remembered I have something I wanna show you. In the kitchen.” She practically leapt off the couch, and Sam followed her lead immediately.

Steve stood up too, mumbling something about having to wash some dishes, and scooted out of the room on their tail. You gave an amused exhalation at their lack of subtlety, but for the first time in your life the humor was tempered by a situation that needed your more immediate attention.

Bucky had yet to move from where he stood, though he was now staring after Steve with a somewhat incredulous look on his face. You took a deep breath and found your voice, though your heart was in your throat.

“Bucky?”

You were so quiet that you wondered if he’d even be able to hear, but he turned toward you, fingers fiddling with the music sheets. He kept his eyes downcast, still avoiding eye contact. “Y/N…”

You waited to see what he was going to say, but when he trailed off, you decided to speak again. “That song…that was amazing.”

The emotion in your voice was what tugged his eyes up to meet yours. “Yeah?” The ghost of a smile appeared around his lips, but his gaze was hopeful.

You smiled softly, taking a few steps closer to him. “Yeah.”

He flushed, glancing down at the page again. “Steve –“

You stopped abruptly, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “Steve?” You questioned, in a disbelieving tone, though your eyes twinkled with amusement. “Is that who I should be talking to right now?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “He – he wrote the music, but…no, the words are mine.” He searched your face hesitantly, and he slowly crossed the last few steps between you.

You stared into his eyes for a few moments, feeling like you might drown in them. Finally, in a voice that was barely a whisper, “And?” When his eyebrows quirked in slight confusion, you added, “Did you mean it?”

At this, he smiled broadly, and his response was soft. “Every word.”

He carefully placed a hand on your hip, his gaze questioning. He was so close to you now, and you were on the precipice of everything you’d been dreaming of. Tossing the final vestiges of your caution to the wind, you wove your hand into his hair, pulling him the last few inches towards you, answering him with a kiss.

He responded eagerly, bringing his other hand up to gently cup your face. His lips were soft and tender, his kiss urgent and worshipful. He kissed you like you were the answer to everything he’d ever searched for, and for you it felt like the whole world clicked perfectly into place.

When you finally broke the kiss, it was with a happy sigh. Bucky affectionately nuzzled your nose with his own before resting his forehead gently against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” The way he was looking at you was making your heart soar like a balloon.

You couldn’t help but smile giddily. “Me too.”

Sam’s voice from the kitchen broke through your shared reverie. “You lovebirds done yet? We doing any actual practicing today or what?”

You and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

#hannahs3kwritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel

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