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alltheficsiwant · 1 year

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Fear

Fear | 🦊Foxy and 🐺Wolfie Universe One Shot

Summary: Bucky has many names. All instill fear to anyone who hears of it. People coined him as Fear himself. In return, living his life, Bucky has no fears. Until you came along. You changed his life and for the first time, there is something that he is afraid of. Something that can instill fear in Fear himself. Losing you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, kidnapping and attempted rape. If these are triggering to you, PLEAS READ WITH CAUTION. MINORS DNI, GET THE FUCK OFF THIS POST PLEASE. THANKS.

Words: 8.5k

Author's note: Hellooo! I'm back with another one shot for Foxy and Wolfie. I know nobody asked for this but I have written this even before my Eddie Munson series. It has been sitting in my google docs. Now is the best time to pull it out. I hope you guys like it.

I made Foxy, female now since I have added lemony stuff in some of their one shots. There might a full on SMUT but we will see. I'll try to write for GN!readers too. Because I wrote Gummy Bears with a gender-neutral approach.

Any errors is solely me. I do not have a beta reader. Header was also made by me. Please don't be shy to tell me your opinions. That makes my day special - J 💕

MAIN MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTER LIST

Bucky knew something was wrong the moment you left his apartment to go to work. More so when the last text he had with you was around the time that you left Wakanda Industries building. That was thirty fucking minutes ago. His penthouse is only ten minutes away from your work. All routes you could possibly take are crawling with Bucky’s men. You should be here in less than ten minutes but you aren’t. Throwing everyone into a frenzy as Steve and Sam contact every man in every route. Wanda even helped trying to contact acquaintances. Shuri even mobilize some of their staff to help.

He knows you have the tendency to do some stuff spontaneously if interest you enough. You often times do detours before coming home. The first time you did that. Bucky nearly had a coronary.

Okay, maybe he is exaggerating but Bucky is not a normal man. He has enemies that are waiting to do him some damage. Bring him down a peg. Usually, Bucky isn’t worried about anyone. All of the people important to him know how to defend themselves except you. Oh God, he tried but you weren’t built for that. You are built to be behind computers and do the thinking.

You are built to be protected, at least physically, Bucky thought. You are independent as a person can be but in these circumstances he was supposed to be the one who protects you. Now, you are no where to be fucking found. You have been gone now for a full day and what the fuck is taking Steve and Sam so long to fucking call everyone?

“Fucking hell!” Bucky was brought back from his thoughts. His vision cleared until it landed on his phone. Your picture up on the screen. A picture of you smiling cutely while laying on the bed. You were obviously wearing Bucky’s red Henley and clearly with the look of shy satisfaction on your face that it was after Bucky had his way with you. Bucky couldn't help but clenched his fist. The plates on his metal arm shifted silently (It was your genius works that it can now move without even making a sound). Where the fuck are you?

“Buck.” Steve’s voice made Bucky jerked up from his position. Dread filled him as he saw Steve’s furious and worried face followed by Sam who looked to be seething.

“Did you find her?” Bucky asked, his voice a bit husky because of misuse.

“No, but we found who would be responsible for her missing,” Steve said as he turned to Sam who apparently had a tablet on his hand that Bucky didn’t notice. Steve moved and placed it down to Bucky.

Bucky saw the private parking lot three blocks away from Bucky’s building. He knows the familiar cars parked since he owns that space. Making them pay for the protection of their cars. He was about to protest. Angry that Steve would waste his time– he saw you. Walking at leisure pace with your hands in your pocket.

He clutched the tablet to bring it closer to him. As he watched your movement, at first you looked like a normal gal walking around Brooklyn but Bucky knows you. Oh, he watches you enough to know that something is definitely wrong. You were walking a little bit too slowly and you kept glancing over your shoulder. A de javu settled on Bucky, as flashes of what happened before everything started between the two of you happened. When you were stalked, Bucky insisted on looking through the city tapes. He doesn't know hwy but he was hungry to know more about you. He wants to knows your ques when you feel in danger so he is ready to protect you.

He refocused himself back to the video and he looked back and tried to see if you were being followed but he saw nothing.

Then you stopped and then looked straight towards the camera as if you knew Bucky was watching you. You mouthed to it, words that made Bucky’s heart constrict as he started to tremble. In fear or anger he doesn’t know. It was blurred at this point as he watched it over and over again.

“I love you Wolfie,”

Before you sharply turned back around and stiffened.

“Baby!” He can’t help exclaim as he looks up at Steve. “Tell me this isn’t the only footage,” Bucky desperately asked his best friend.

“Watch,” Steve grunted as he angrily looked down and Bucky looked down just in time to see a familiar 6 foot tall blonde man wearing a blue leather jacket. The familiar logo of the white wolf on its back as the man approached you and harshly took your arm. You fought but then he looked to have hissed something and you stopped as you looked around before you shakily nodded.

Then he sharply pulled you against him, forcing you to turn and then slowly backed away from the crowded area. Bucky started to shake as he knew what he was going to witness as the man pulled out a white cloth and smothered you. You struggled, fighting him off despite being a tiny little thing but the man was fucking strong. Soon you went limp and he carried you walking away from the scene. Not noticing the camera that Bucky had installed in the car park.

Bucky growled and looked up. Anger radiating off his eyes as he saw an equally angry Steve with Sam who is seething.

“Tell me you know who the fuck–”

“John Walker,” The three of them turned to see Natasaha walking inside the office as she loaded her gun. She tucked it behind her back before taking her stance beside Steve. “We are already tracking him down using my system.”

Bucky shouted in anguish as he threw the tablet in anger. “Fucking Walker!” He seethed as he kicked his table effectively flipping it and making the contents of it scatter. The three instinctively took a step back knowing that if Bucky started his rage, he wouldn’t stop until he is sated.

“I knew that little fucker would betray us!” Bucky screamed as he paced. “Is it just him?” Bucky asked as he looked at Natasha.

“At first we thought it was just him but we found something,” Natasha said and then turned just in time for the door to open. A groaning man appears. Quentin Beck stumbled inside with his hands tied behind his back followed by a blonde young girl and a young man with angry expressions.

“Thank you Yelena and Peter,” Natasha told them. Peter was the first one to leave while Yelena dropped a bag beside Quentin before leaving as Natasha motioned for Sam to take the man. Sam didn’t hesitate and brought him over to Bucky.

“We found him preparing to leave a few minutes ago. He had the decency to go to his fuck buddy to bid goodbye,” Natasaha informed him. Then she crouched down towards the bag and opened it. Revealing a few stacks of money, clothes, a few fake passports and two guns with ammos.

Bucky can’t help but huff out a laugh. “I knew you were a slimy little rat Beck,” Bucky grunted as Quentin struggled against Sam’s hold. His eyes widened in fear as Bucky got closer. His stare the angriest Quentin witnessed.

“I- I swear sir! I didn’t do anything!” Quentin begged as Sam just dumped him right in front of Bucky. The man himself crouched down, his face filled with only one emotion, rage as he harshly tugged on Quentin’s head back to make him look at him.

“Where’s my girl?” He asked directly as Quentin shook his head and started to babble that he doesn’t know. Bucky grunted, lifting up his flesh arm while the metal one kept a hold of him. He delivered a punch.

“That is not the answer I’m looking for,” Bucky said evenly as forced Quentin to bear the pain and make him look at him. “Tell me, where’s my girl?”

“I swear sir! I don’t know! John acted on this alone. I wouldn’t have done something to her knowing I would–”

“You fucking liar,” Bucky cut him off as he delivered another punch on Quentin. This time on his jaw. Quentin cried out and Bucky let him as he switched the metal hand to the flesh ones. He curled it into a fist and forced him to look at it. “Then why are you fucking leaving with your tail between your legs Beck? Why are you running away if you didn’t do anything?”

Quentin’s eyes widened as he realized that there is really no way out of this.

Bucky reared his metal arm, ready to deliver the final blow that could cave his skull in as he asked him in a calm yet heavy tone. “Where is my girl?”

Quentin looked towards the metal knowing one way or another that he would be receiving that punch whether he told them or not. It might not kill him but he knew that Bucky would make his death slow and painfully.

“You really are not going to talk? Well then–” Bucky was about to bring down the metal arm when Quentin finally broke.

“Flag Smashers!” He shouted and that made everyone in the room stand still. Bucky freezing on the spot.

“What?” Steve was the first one to speak as he moved towards Quentin. His eyes shifted from angry to being worried.

“Flag Smashers. We made a deal with them. Well, John spoke with them and roped me in. They wanted a leverage against the White Wolf as per John. John offered your girl and when they learned who she was. They became more determined to get her,” Quentin blurted as Bucky dropped him on the floor. Natasha took over by getting Quentin and had a knife on his neck. He was jostled a bit but continued talking as Bucky paced. “We were supposed to drop her off last night and leave but the flag smashers couldn't deliver their part of the deal until a few hours ago. John said she would keep her somewhere until he could get what he needed for the flag smasher. We were meeting tonight.”

Bucky inhaled sharply at that and then looked towards Sam who already had his phone out.

“I’m going to call Karli and see if—”

Before Sam could even click on the contact and finish his sentence. His phone rang, Karli’s name, the leader of the Flag Smasher flashes on the screen. Sam quickly answered it as he placed it on speaker. Natasha quickly stuffs Quentin’s mouth with her handkerchief to keep him quiet while still having the knife on his neck.

“Karli?”

“I know you are with the White Wolf.” Her voice echoed in the office.

Bucky didn’t even hesitate as he stepped forward towards the phone.

“Where’s my girl?” Bucky didn’t let any more discussion ask the same question he had been asking to anyone really for almost the whole day now.

“I would have handed her back to you if I had her.”

“Do not fucking lie to me Karli,”

“When did I ever lie to you James?” Karli calmly said back to him. Bucky huffed.

“Then why did you call?”

“John Walker made a deal with us. He needed an escape route. He wanted an out from you,” Karli said as Bucky looked at Quentin whose eyes widened in shock at what he was hearing. He was betrayed. “He came here just now. He told me it was for him and Beck but then requested a last minute change for details. In replacement was a woman’s information and picture. He made business with my men and not me. When I saw her picture, I immediately alerted our connections to delay their departure.”

“I don’t need the fucking details Karli. I just need the location,”

“Long Island port. He plans to crossover to Portland and then plans to drive to crossover Canada,”

Bucky cursed. He has no jurisdiction in Canada. He can’t exactly follow you there without alerting the Interpol or the fucking CIA. He ran a hand through his face.

“We placed a tracker on the gun he asked. We always put one in order for us to keep track of the people we do business with. He’s only a couple minutes away before crossing over to Long island.”

While Karli was speaking Bucky was already walking out of the office. Natasha dragged Quentin while Steve and Sam started barking orders. He had taken Sam’s phone as he hurriedly took his personal elevator down to the garage.

“Why are you giving me this Karli?” Bucky asked as he entered the elevator. There was a second of silence on the other line before the woman spoke.

“I know what it's like to lose someone important. Knows how our lives can intertwine with our work.” Karli explained as Bucky took his bike as he waited for Sam who was already giving him his gun and his knives. “Besides, I’m a professional. I have decorum. I wouldn’t hit on a rival’s family to get my business going when I could do other things about it.”

“You know I don’t do favors,”

“This is not a favor. This is respect. Go get your girl,” Then the line went dead. Then an alert message came on and Bucky clicked it. A blinking tracker is seen exiting Brooklyn to Queens.

He showed it to Sam. “Alert Shuri and T’Challa. Tell them I would need their connection to Tony Stark” Sam took the phone and nodded as Bucky revved up his bike.

“I’ll send this to you. We'll be right behind…” Sam wasn't able to finish his sentence as Bucky went off. A single thought running through his mind. He is going to get his girl.

Bucky never felt fear before, or at least since the time he got his arm blasted off. He was used to inflicting it and becoming the fear of the people. Yet at the moment, he fears for you. Fears that you would be hurt. Fear that after this, the other shoe that Bucky was waiting for will drop and lose you.

He fears he would lose you one way or another. He felt like this would be the final straw. The unfamiliar weakening of his knees and the shaking of his bones came to him as he revved his bike. Not caring about the speed, he just wants to get to you. An alert pinged again at his phone that he was half a mind to put on a stand.

He looked down at it to see it open on its own and the red blinking was closer. Then Shuri called, his phone automatically answering it. He didn’t have time to ask how the hell Shuri is accessing his phone.

“You are a click away from them Buck,” Shuri informed him as he looked down at the tracker.

“What does the car look like?”

“A silver sedan. He looked like he was really trying to go in a hurry but there is so much a Sedan can do!”

“How are you seeing–”

“I called Tony. He lent us his drones and he also said that if something happens to his little magician, you would be dead.” Bucky looked ahead, ignoring the threat, just in time to see several drones flying over him and pass him. He followed it until his eyes landed on a certain sedan. He shouted to Shuri the plates and she confirmed them.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to rev up to catch up to the car and he rode beside the car. He saw you in a flash, knocked out on the back seat with your hands tied. Then he saw John Walker who was already looking back at him with wide eyes. Without preamble, Bucky pulled out his gun and shot the window twice. John, props to him immediately swerved the car. It grazed him on the cheek and stepped on the gas.

“Found him.” Bucky only said as he easily caught up.

“Sam and Steve are behind you,” Bucky didn’t need to look as he already heard a car coming up on the other side of the Sedan. John saw it and he started to panic and pulled out his own gun but before he could, a small hand shot up. You were awake.

“Foxy!” Bucky can’t help but shout as he lifts his visor up. As you struggled with John, you surprisingly were able to get the ties around your hands free. Bucky doesn’t know if you heard him but you continue to struggle. Bucky’s heart nearly stopped as a shot rang out. It hit Sam’s truck that was driving on the other side. Luckily, Steve, who was halfway out of the truck, was barely hit.

Bucky didn’t care anymore if he was going to hit something as he prepared himself to jump just like Steve.

“Fucking bitch!” Bucky saw you were able to get the gun off him and John’s wrist has indents on it. Then you scrambled towards the window where Steve is already reaching out for you. John started to reach out for you instead and he managed to clutched on your feet. You started to kick him as you desperately unlocked the door. Bucky took another steady shot and hit John on the shoulder. The bastard cried out as he clutched on it and released you.

“Steve!” He shouted as Steve opted to break the window of the car. John saw that Steve was reaching out to you and decided to swerve the car. In the moment, you cried out and Bucky turned to look that you have sliced your forearm open at one of the broken glass. As soon as he saw your blood spilled, Bucky saw red.

“Get her out of there Steve!” Was the last thing he remembered he said before letting his persona take over. There was a lot of fighting as Steve managed to drag you out of the car and into Sam’s truck.

Bucky remembered John fighting as much as he could against Bucky but he wasn’t having none of it. His girl was hurt and someone has to suffer.

The next thing he knew, he managed to crash the car towards barrels of water at the highway that is usually there to prevent a severe car crash. Bucky dragged himself out of the car at the same time he clutched on John’s still breathing body. He threw him against the car and quickly took out his gun.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know?” Bucky gritted out as he pointed the gun to John’s forehead. There was fear clearly etched on his face but he really did have a death wish as he sneered back at Bucky.

“I knew that Bitch would sell me out to you,” John only grunted and Bucky didn’t care about Karli betraying John.

“You messed with the wrong person John,” Bucky growled as he let the nozzle of the gun pressed against his forehead as he leaned down to him. “You could have done some damage with anything on me and I would have let you go with a beat up face and a bruised ego but no,” Bucky can’t help press the gun on John’s forehead and slammed it towards the car. “You really have to touch my fucking girl,”

“She’s not your girl when she willingly flirts with anyone! She came with me–”

Bucky didn’t even flinch as he pulled the trigger, instead of his forehead like he really wanted to, he pointed it again to the gunshot wound he obtained earlier making it bigger. John cried out as Bucky pointed the gun back to his forehead.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that. I saw the footage moron. She knew you were coming to get her and my girl is smart enough to let you do it right in front of me.” Bucky said as he clearly remembered the words you mouthed to him during the video.

“I love you Wolfie.” Bucky can feel the anger boiling again inside him. You and him never really had the time to say those words to each other out loud but fuck, Bucky didn’t picture it that he would have to hear or at least read those words in your lips in this kind of situation.

John on his part looked a bit shocked. He really is a stupid bastard.

“So really, Karli didn’t betray you. You did it yourself. Now you are going to fucking pay,” Bucky mumbled as he stood up. “I would really like to torture you more. Make you feel the pain as you slowly die but I want you out immediately. So, goodbye John,”

Bucky was about to pull the trigger when John suddenly shouted.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I took her?!” John exclaimed in an attempt to prolong his life.

“You didn’t succeed and I don’t fucking care,” Bucky fired a shot at Walker and watched the life seep out of him. He took another few more shots to make sure and carelessly threw the gun on him. He heard a car pulling up behind him and he turned just in time to see you coming out the car.

“Oh thank God!” You exclaimed as you ran towards him as Bucky met you halfway. You jumped into his arms as you buried your head against his neck and wrapped your arms and legs around him. Bucky despite the soreness of the fight with John and the car crash pulled you close to him. Wrapping his metal arm around your waist while the other clutched the back of your head to keep you on his neck.

He let out a shaky breath as he felt you tremble against him. “You’re okay now baby. I got you,”

A muffled sob came out of you and Bucky leaned back a bit so he could properly look at you. He scanned your face as tears streamed down on them.

You have a gash on your left temple that made Bucky’s jaw clenched then he saw a bruise forming on your left cheek. Then he saw your lips and he couldn't help but growl at it. There was a cut on it preventing him from the lips he badly wanted to kiss. The fear suddenly took him after the brief anger he had felt. The fear he felt as he searched for you reared its ugly head again and Bucky can’t help but stagger a bit at the feeling. He brought you back in his arms and tightened it around you.

You watched as emotion after emotion revealed itself on Bucky’s face. Something only you have the privilege to witness numerous times before. You know what is starting to run through his head and you know you can’t do anything but assure him. You reached out to the hand that is touching your face and kissed his palm.

“It's just a few cuts and bruises. I’m fine.” You assured him as Bucky shook his head.

“We still need you to be checked– your arm,” he said as he scrambled to look at it but you were already shaking your head as you wrapped it back around him. You leaned your forehead against his as you took a deep breath.

“Take me home please Wolfie. I just want to go home.”

Despite your protest, Bucky wanted you to be checked out. Bruce Banner and Stephen Strange were called. Bruce from the Wakanda Industries and Stephen as the doctor on call for Bucky. Bucky made sure that you were okay and you compromised by just having them at Bucky’s house instead of a hospital or in the infirmary in Natasha’s security firm.

It took almost two hours to assess everything. Bucky wanted to be thorough and through all of it he didn’t let you out of his sight. During the whole ordeal, the exhaustion of the day took a toll on you and you ended up falling asleep halfway. In which the two doctors gave an okay since you have clearly no concussion.

After the last tests and the final reassessment of your injuries. Stephen delivered the news to Bucky who was just returning with a bowl of soup and the tea you always drink when you are having a bad day.

“James,” Stephen greeted him as he packed up his stuff. Bruce is already on his way out as he bids the mob boss goodbye in a shaky voice leaving the two men and you, who are still asleep alone. Bucky laid the tray on a desk in the room as he greeted Stephen back.

“Is she okay?”

Stephen nodded as he took his bag up and looked over at you. “So far, the only severe injury she had is the cut on the glass on her forearm. Steve did a great job on stopping the bleeding. It would scar but Bruce said he is already developing an ointment to help with it.” Stephen started as Bucky carefully sat on the side of the bed. You were facing him and he couldn't help but reach out towards your face. Making sure you are really here with him now. Safe and sound.

“The cuts and bruises would heal in a few days or so, especially on the lips. She doesn’t have broken bones but she did have bruised cheekbones and sternum. Usually, it can occur when being punched or kicked,” Bucky can’t help but close his eyes at that news. His metal hand that isn’t touching and caressing your face clenched. He now wished he didn’t end John right now, he should have let Steve drag him towards the compound so he could have his way with him later.

“But do not worry James, I already prescribed her some pain meds that could–”

“She doesn’t like to take pain meds,” Bucky mumbled as he looked at Stephen who nodded.

“Okay, I can ask Bruce for alternatives,” Stephen said as he pulled out his phone and sent the other doctor some texts.

The room went silent for a bit as Bucky dreaded the next news that Stephen would have to deliver. When Bucky made them do every test possible to assess you, it meant everything. Including a rape kit. You weren’t exactly speaking to Bucky much about your experience with Walker during the time that you and him traveled back to Bucky’s place. You only silently cried and clutched on Bucky tighter every time there was a bump in the road.

Bucky hesitated to ask but Stephen, as usual, knew that Bucky would like to have news delivered to him straightforwardly. That is the reason why he was Bucky’s personal and on-call doctor.

“About the rape kit test, she didn’t have any traces of forced entry,” Stephen started to explain. It should have created relief from Bucky but then he saw Stephen’s face. The usually stoic doctor’s expression became a little darker as he delivered the other part of the news.

“But, we do have found traces of attempt. A few bruises between her thighs and the reason why her sternum was bruised.” Bucky shakily released a breath. He jerked back from touching you and he was out of the bed. Pacing. He shakily put his flesh hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop its trembling as he paced. “We are just assuming its an attempt–”

“I will know about that,” Bucky sharply cuts him off, not wanting to hear another word. Stephen nodded as he looked over at your still body. He didn’t bid any goodbye, something that Stephen never does even when he started working with Bucky. He would rather not speak. He was always a bearer of a bit of bad news.

He left silently leaving Bucky in his own thoughts. He didn’t know how long he did that but all he could think about is the ways he could have prevented it. He was always sure. Always ahead of the game of people who he knew would betray him and would do something to him. Yet when it comes to you he becomes this mess. A person riddled with fear. Only for you.

His thoughts strayed to Beck for a while, Natasha informing him that he is in the compound. Hidden, ready for him. Knowing now what he could have possibly done, Bucky would have to find some time to go there and do the damage he wished he could have done to John too.

Then it turned back to you as his eyes landed on your still sleeping form. The bruise he saw on the temple has swollen a bit and the cut on your lip looked to be tended. Luckily you are sleeping too deeply. A chilling sensation filled him as the crippling fear came back to him. His knees weakened and this time he let himself kneel right at the edge of the bed.

How could he let this happen again? He promised he would protect you. Promised you on the day when Dolores took an attempt on your life. The fucking demented witch. He was scared that day that it would be the final nail in the coffin that would make you want to leave but this might be it.

You wouldn’t stay. Nobody does. You would leave and Bucky was sure about that and it would leave Bucky devastated. He knows that. Fuck, he knows that but the worst part is he would let you. He knows that too despite being the possessive shit he was. He wouldn’t keep you if you don’t want him anymore. He wouldn’t keep you even if he wanted you and only you. Even he already let you have the last pieces of heart he had left. He loved you too much to keep you if you do not want to be kept.

Also, he promised you. He kept on saying that you are safer with him from the very start. Because of his selfishness he got you in this fucking situation.

He was too caught up with his own thoughts to notice you have woken up just in time to see an expression you knew was only one thing. An expression you have seen yourself make. Others who have suffered under his metal hands or under Steve’s wrath and Sam’s rage. You know those expressions and you know exactly what Bucky fears the most. Those whispered words he always speaks whenever you spend the night with him in his arms thinking you are asleep.

“I’m not leaving,” you rasped out, bringing him out of his thoughts. Bucky faces you sharply upon hearing your voice. His eyes glazed over as he saw you slowly sitting up. Bucky moved immediately to help you.

“Foxy–”

As soon as he neared you, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you kneeled on the bed and stretched your body to reach him. His arms are limp beside him as you nuzzle your face to his neck.

“I’m not leaving. You should know that by now,” You told him. A bit muffled since your face is buried on Bucky’s neck. Though your man didn’t make any move to touch you and he stayed in your embrace despite the lack of reaction. You continue to hold on to him.

“This is my fault,” he said after a few more moments and you quickly shook your head as you leaned back. You kept one of your arms around him and the other to touch his cheek making him look at you.

You shook your head again. “No, it isn’t– no, let me finish– this is not your fault. Even then, I knew what I was going into when I let you pursue me. I knew what your life would entail Bucky. At least when I finally learned about it,” You paused as you caressed his face with your thumb as you moved closer. Pressing your body as much as you can with him as you embrace him once again. The memory of the night the two of you met came in pieces with you. How stubborn you were not to give him your number.

You then laid your head on his shoulder. “Besides, I’m too deep to even leave.”

You stayed silent for a while as Bucky refused to hug you back. You close your eyes as you take a deep breath before speaking again. Willing the tears from your eyes not to fall as you spoke.

“If I’m not leaving. You shouldn’t either.” Knowing if you won’t leave then he would be the one to do so. “You can’t leave me. Not now.” You inhaled sharply before pushing the last words out of your mouth. “Not when you made me love you this much,”

With those words, Bucky let a shaky exhale before he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“Oh my foxy, I’m so damn sorry. I’m so sorry,” He murmured as he pressed kiss after kiss against your temple. He lifted you up a little and you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist. “Never. I would never leave you,” Bucky mumbled as he pulled back a bit to be able to look at your face. His flesh hand frantically tried to wipe the tears that still fell from your eyes despite your efforts.

“I can’t. I would have let you go if you ask me but I can’t let you go now. I love you too much to do so too baby,” Bucky said as he leaned his forehead against you.

“Good.” That was all you said before you surge forward. You kissed him just like how you kissed him when you cannot put into words how much you long for his presence. Bucky kissed back as if he was a man starved. Desperate to feel and to have you against him.

You tried to suppress your whimpers as you kissed him back. You were also desperate to kiss him. After what you have suffered under John and Beck’s hands for a single night. You wanted to feel Bucky’s love and his warmth. This time you longed for his and only his touch. Nobody else.

But Bucky finally remembered about your cut and slowed the kiss. He leaned back not before leaving a final kiss on the corner of your mouth that isn’t injured.

“I never picture that we are going to say those words in this kind of situation,” You told him as Bucky slowly sat back down on the bed with you still on his lap and wrapped around him.

Bucky didn’t reply on that as he kept looking at you. Seriousness envelopes his features. You immediately tucked your head under his chin and clutched him tighter against you.

Bucky sighed. “You have to tell me what happened,” Bucky said as he brought on his hands to caress the back of your head as he leaned down to lay a kiss on the crown of it. You shook your head.

“Tomorrow,” You told him as you turned your head to the side. “I just want to stay like this for a while,”

Bucky sighed yet again, not wanting to push you further despite wanting to know everything. Though he has other plans to know what really happened, since someone is waiting for him in the compound. Waiting to be questioned by his bare hands. He opted to wait for you instead. Besides, he has all the time in the world. You wouldn’t be leaving and Bucky would make it his mission to not give you reasons to do so.

“Okay, tomorrow.”

2 weeks later…

“Wolfie?”

Bucky turned just in time to see you walking out of his bedroom. Wearing only one of his shirts as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. He can’t help but admire you. He liked how you look now. Healthy and injury free.

For the past two weeks, Bucky insisted for you to stay with him as you recovered. He even asked you to move your work remotely so that he could keep watch on you. You protested though, he knew it when you had your feet back to solid ground.

But then he knew deep inside, when you conceded, you felt a lot safer being closer to Bucky than being away. Bucky also didn’t leave you out of his sight that much. He had Sam and Natasaha reevaluate every person under his payroll. A cleansing of his ranks after what Beck and Walker pulled through.

Sam though, profusely apologized to you and Bucky since Beck and Walker were his own recruits. He really thought they were decent men but it turns out they are not. Bucky didn’t give him hell. Sam was one of his closest friends. He even asked Bucky to take a go at him but Bucky knew Sam wouldn’t betray him. He knew Sam wouldn’t have known better and he would. That is what Sam promised. Instead he tasked him to do the cleansing which Sam accepted together with Natasha who was eager to get her hands dirty again.

While Bucky gave Steve the reins to the business which his best friend agreed as he knew that you would need Bucky more than anyone.

So Bucky stayed with you, being the doting and loving boyfriend that he is to you and only to you. He helped you with the nightmares that would surely stick and assure you that you are safe. He even let Wanda who had come running to you to stay for three days before she was forced by her work. Threatening Bucky that she would castrate him if anything happens to you again. Of course, Bucky would let her if that happens. You are his world but he would make sure it never does.

So he started to introduce you to some classes on how to use a gun or a knife which you surprisingly took interest compare to the hand to hand combat sessions he tried before.

“Who else is better to teach me than you?”

Oh, after that comment, let’s just say that Bucky never had been turned on in his life with the trust that you gave him that night. It was also the night that you finally told him what happened.

It turns out, you fought them during the times you are awake and sassed the fuck out of them. They had to tranquilize you numerous times since your body burned through them so fast. Something of a feat that Bucky is quite shocked of since how tiny you are and how you are not really in the best physical condition a human can achieve.

But what made him work up was that it was apparently Beck who took advantage of you. John was the one who always told Beck to calm down and they would have time to take you for themselves. The two apparently took interest with you at the beginning thinking how could you tame Bucky like that.

The words that Beck had spatted at you as he tried to drag you to him.

“Let me have a fucking taste of the pussy that tamed the White Wolf!”

“Come on, don’t be shy!”

“You fucking slut!”

Bucky splintered the headboard that day as you recounted the story shakily as you cried and clutched on to him. Then with your permission of course, he made love to you as you were also desperate to forget about how rough Beck was that night.

John stopped him though and that made him decide to run away with you instead. Apparently, John actually liked you. That explains why John said you flirted with him which you adamantly denied.

“Wolfie, I can’t even flirt with you? How am I supposed to do that?” You told him as you remained inside his arms after making love with you. “Sometimes, being kind is really a pain in the ass.”

On that day, Bucky knew he would have to visit the compound one day and do what he was itching to do to Beck the moment Stephen told him about the attempt. It seems the day has come.

“Good morning baby,” Bucky greeted you as you walked over to him as you smiled sleepily. He offered you your cup of coffee. You took it but laid it back down to the counter before jumping into his arms.

Bucky let out an ‘ooof’ as he caught you. The plates in his arm shifting seamlessly, a result of your continuous improvement with the coding and Shuri’s mechanical adjustments.

“Good morning,” You mumbled. You have been extra clingy. Far from your usually reserved affection even with just the two of you. Also, it was Bucky who had always initiated contact but since everything that has happened. It seems like a new side of you has been unlocked.

“How did my foxy sleep?” Bucky asked as you pulled back. You scrunch your nose at the nickname still not used to that nickname but recently it's grown on you. As long as it came from Bucky’s mouth, your Wolfie’s mouth then it's okay. If it's Sam, Steve, Wanda or even Shuri you would throw hands.

“Good.” You decided to answer, then you looked over at him and noticed that he was in his black suit. These days, Bucky has been either sweater clad or Henley clad. “Are you going to work now?” You asked, a tint of sadness in your voice. You kind of liked the arrangement of having Bucky 24/7 now.

Bucky smiled at you softly as he leaned down to kiss you softly which you eagerly returned. After, he moved to reach for your coffee as he spoke.

“I have to go baby but I just need to do a few things and then I’ll be back,” Bucky told you as he deposited you carefully down on one of the countertops. You carefully balanced the coffee that he gave you in your hands as you watched him move towards the food that you didn’t notice served on a plate.

“Okay” You scrunch your eyebrows as you look around and your eyes land on the digital clock. “But it's a Sunday?” You asked him to look back at Bucky who's back is turned on you as he prepared a plate for you.

“Yes I know, but there is something I really need to work on,” Bucky mumbled as he turned around and gave you a plate.

You looked down to see two pieces of French toast and strawberries with dollops of cream cheese on top of it. You gladly took it as you leaned to the side to open the drawers where the forks are. Bucky watched you in awe as you moved around his kitchen as if you lived there long enough. That is a thought he would like to divulge but later. He had something to deal with to seal the deal of letting you stay here at your original home.

You took a bite of the toast first before speaking again as Bucky grabbed food of his own. “Is it something I can know about?” you asked and Bucky nearly froze at your question. If you noticed it you didn’t comment as you continued to eat while waiting for his answer.

“You don’t need to worry about it.” Bucky told you as he walked towards you with food of his own and leaned his lower back against the edge of the counter top you are seated on. “It’s a thing I want you out of,”

“Dirty Laundry?” You asked, using the codename the two of you decided to call whatever Bucky had to do that is something that needs to be left unsaid. Bucky nodded, not wanting to say anything more.

You nodded as you took another bite of the french toast and Bucky was relieved that you didn’t question further. Besides, you witnessed a lot of things about his life and his work. He doesn’t want to add what he was about to do to the list but he wouldn’t put it past you that you already know what he is about to do.

It was basically Bucky’s motivation as he festered the anger he kept in check while he helped you recover.

A few minutes later, Bucky is on his way out of his penthouse as you walk him over the elevators.

“I’ll be back before dinner time,” Bucky told you as you nodded. You reached out for him at the same time as Bucky reached out for you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your lips met as you kissed him sweetly.

“Be careful, okay?” You told him as you pulled an inch away from his lips. Bucky nodded before surging forward again to kiss you more.

The two of you are so caught up with each other that you didn’t hear Natasha has entered the penthouse with Steve. Someone cleared their throat and that made the both of you pull you apart. You jumped a bit and blushed as you noticed the two standing there. Steve with a look of amusement mixed with embarrassment while Natasha just looked at the two of you as if she was enjoying the show.

“I was told that I am here for a brainstorming session. I didn’t know I would witness a show,” Natasha mused. Bucky snorted at that while you giggled.

“Very funny Nat.” Bucky then looked back down at you and smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

You nodded and closed your eyes as Bucky leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. With a final squeeze on your waist. Bucky let go of you.

“Hey Steve,” you greeted the blonde hulk of a man and the guy offered a grin.

“Hey little bug,” he greeted back and that made you pout at him playfully.

“Just because I told you that you are my honorary big brother now doesn’t mean you can give me nicknames,” You told him crossing your arms but Steve just looked at you amused.

“Well, that is what you get when saying that lil sis,” he told you and you just chuckled as you moved to give him a hug.

“Please take care of him,” you whispered as Steve nodded,

“Always do,”

Bucky then finally put on his shoes and turned around. “Keep her safe Nat,” Bucky said as he started to walk backward towards the elevator. Nat who walked to stand beside you nodded.

“Sure do,”

Then Bucky turned to look at you and give you one final smile. “I love you,” He said as he stepped inside the elevator. Steve and Natasha looked at him shocked but schooled their features quickly not wanting Bucky to backtrack as they look at you who is smiling widely at him.

“I love you too Wolfie,”

Though before the elevator closed, you surged forward and stopped with your hand startling the three as you looked at Bucky. You stared at him for a while as Bucky stood there looking back at you.

“Kick the fucker for me,” You told him and Bucky’s eyes widened at that before you stepped back and let the elevator closed. Bucky stood there in shock as the elevator descended down to his parking lot.

“You told her?” Steve can’t help but ask. Bucky shook his head as he smirked.

“She just knows it.” Steve chuckled at that.

“You really do have a keeper this time. First time hearing you say those words freely to other people except Sam and Me, Becca and Winnifred,”

“Yeah, she is a keeper.”

“You are going to put a ring on it anytime soon?”

Bucky already had it made and it is in the process but that is news that he wouldn’t be indulging anyone until it's ready but maybe he could spare some to his old best friend.

“Soon but first, I want to deal with the fucker,”

Bonus Content

Quentin knew he was fucked. The moment Natasha knocked him out from Bucky’s office. He wouldn’t be coming out of this alive. He should have ran away on his own if he knew Walker would betray him like this. Now he is at the compound that much he knew judging by the stink of blood and burnt flesh to where he is at now.

He knows this place. The fucking winter chamber is what they call. Not just by being cold. No, this is the place that the White Wolf unleashes the monster inside him. The one that only his worst enemies could witness and never get out of. If they do it would be in black bags.

He was fucked. Who knew his dick would have gotten him here? If you weren’t such a fucking— he jumped as the doors in the room he is tied down slowly opened. Three sets of footsteps can be heard as they enter the barely lit room.

Quentin knew who it was, no one ever came from the past days? Weeks? He doesn’t know. Only Peter with a scrap of bread and water came to him. Now, he knew he had come for him.

The first one he saw was Steve as he walked inside with a briefcase in hand. He moved towards the table situated on Quentin’s left. He didn’t even look at him. The next one was Eddie Brock. The resident psycho freaks under Bucky’s loyal men. He was diagnosed with a split personality and the other one, well. They call him Venom and oh boy, he might not be on the same level as the White Wolf unleashed but Venom was almost on the same level.

He loves to play with his prey and he is a very good hunter. If he is here, the White Wolf is planning something that Quentin wouldn't like to experience right now but has not choice to but suffer.

“Hello Quentin,” Eddie’s voice came and shit, its not Eddie its fucking Venom. Quentin started to struggle. Steve looked to be unfettered as he pulled out tool after tool Venom chuckled at his movements. “Ohhh, someone is excited?” He mused as he stalked towards him.

Quentin struggled as Venom cackled. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t be playing with you. Boss wants to have his hands on you first then I would feast,” Venom hissed and Quentin whimpered. “I would fucking enjoy it. After all, I hate rapists,”

Quentin’s eyes widened at that. Fuck, they knew about what he attempted to do with you and he thought he already pumped you enough tranq to forget about it. Fuck.

“I see, that you remember now what you did Beck,” A low grunt was heard as the last person stepped into the light. Venom stepped behind Quentin holding Quentin’s head as he made him look straight to those dark cerulean eyes. Bucky stepped into the light and his eyes were feral as he looked at Beck. “I know what you did,”

Quentin continued to struggle as he was forced to look at Bucky who neared him.

“You should have come clean, I could have ended it fast and quickly back at my office but you decided to be a little coward. Now, I'm going to enjoy everything I am going to do to you.” Bucky said as he turned to Steve.

“Lock the door on your way out,” he told him and Steve nodded. He didn’t look back as he walked out there and the sound of the door being locked can be heard.

Bucky then turned to Beck while Venom excitedly watched. “You will regret touching my girl,”

All through the night, only Quentin’s screams can be heard and Venom’s cackle. Despite the heavy locked doors. It can be heard all throughout the compound. Luckily, no other buildings and places around it but it serves as a warning to everyone.

No one. No one messes with FEAR himself.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel #ilovemybuck #alltheficsiwant reads #foxy and wolfie #bucky barnes au #mob!bucky x reader

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults.

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow.

“What’s got you so perky this morning?”

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead.

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness.

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts.

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag.

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams.

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer.

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists.

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares.

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer.

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”.

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?”

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches.

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic.

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help.

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?”

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply.

“Yes, I would l-love that.”

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away.

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey!

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp.

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?”

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes.

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.”

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off.

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It��s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer

#kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smut #bts fics #namjoon smut #out of my league #knj #knj smut #rap monster smut #JOOOOOOOOOONie

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throughtheinterstices · 3 years

Text

massive and small stars

❝ you were a massive star destined to burn for a few hundred thousand years, culminating in an inevitable explosion. kuroo tetsuro was the sun, a small star, bound to give light for several billion years. the difference between the two of you makes you ask him how he manages to keep his light. ❞

pairing. kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader

genre. college au where you and kuroo are apartment neighbors, implied comfort

word count. 1.7k words

warnings. themes of burnout due to the pandemic

a/n. reblogs are very much appreciated. i’d be happy to hear your thoughts too.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

You are by no means an astronomer. You are studying to become a physician. You are a hundred and ten percent certain of this fact. But as you lie limp atop your unmade bed, your mind can’t help but ponder on stars, how they are made, and how they die.

The lifetime of stars depends on their size. Massive stars exhaust their energy much faster and are only able to last for a few hundred millennia. Small stars, on the other hand, burn slowly, allowing them to exist for several billion years.

You have always been told that you were destined to be a star, to burn brighter above everyone else. You are fated for brilliance, they said. All your life, you are convinced by their words.

Entering college, you believe it is your time to shine. Your days in the dust are long gone. All the ashes and gas are finally going to pool together as the enormous celestial body everybody expected you to be. You are finally away from the drama of high school. You’re supposed to be joining organizations, getting good grades, making lots of friends, and living.

You were supposed to be doing all of that. You were finally safely moved into your one-bedroom apartment near a prestigious university in Tokyo, aching for all of it.

Then the pandemic hit. The club fairs turned into online zoom meetings. The good grades turned into just-above-the-passing-rate marks. Those friends turned into monotonous group chats about academic requirements. Living turned into surviving.

You are destined to be a star, they said. Indeed, you feel like a massive star. You expected too much, gathered too many particles from the universe, that you ended up an immense ball of burning gas about to explode in the near future. You are so close to wearing yourself out. You try everything to avoid it.

You turn up the volume of your favorite songs because maybe it will drown the negative voices in your head.

You bathe yourself in sunlight because maybe it will overpower the darkness slowly wrapping itself around you.

You soak yourself under the shower for hours because maybe it will wash away the dread and anxiety.

You laugh humorlessly.

As if.

As much as you were predetermined for greatness, you are designed for destruction as well.

You look at the time. 5:11 PM.

There’s still time before he comes. You can still take a nap. You’ve been a light sleeper for the past few months anyway. You’ll hear him knock.

The knock comes two hours later, 7:00 PM sharp.

“Good evening,” Kuroo Tetsuro says.

You mimic his greeting weakly.

Kuroo Tetsuro is your university apartment neighbor. You became friends a month into the pandemic, when he came to your rescue after you almost burned down your apartment (you left the stove on while you were in the shower). Since then, the two of you had formed an unusual partnership. He was in-charge of half of the groceries and cooking the main course. You were in-charge of the other half of the groceries and preparing dessert. You took turns with the dishes.

You’re grateful for his companionship. Somehow, being able to interact with another person face-to-face lessens the gravity of the whole situation.

Today, the weight is just a tad bit heavier for you. You barely have the energy to contribute to the dinner table conversation. You just nod along and give a few replies here and there.

After catching his fingers lingering on his phone and after noticing his sensitivity toward notification sounds, you sense that the weight is heavier for him too.

“Expecting a call?” you ask, getting a bite of tonkatsu.

“Hoping for one,” Kuroo answers, picking at his own food.

“She cut the call short again?” Whether it was his mother or his sister, you don’t bother asking. It was always between the two of them anyway.

“Didn’t even bother answering,” he says. That explains it.

You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

He scoffs. “’S not your fault.”

You know that. Still, you wanted to help him.

There was only one thing you can think of at the moment.

“Dessert?” you offer.

His face lights up a bit. “Yes please.”

You give him a small smile and stand up to reach for the newly-bought mochi.

The days after, you still feel the looming sense of your inevitable combustion. Exams were still difficult. Readings were still extensive. Social interactions were still monotonously online. Club participation was still nonexistent.

You turn the volume of your music a little higher. You stay under the sun a little longer. You soak under the shower head a few minutes more.

Yet, you still end up on your bed, drained. Nothing’s changed.

Another thing that hasn’t changed is him.

Seven o’clock sharp, he’s there, knocking on your door (tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap—a unique pattern he uses every time). He still cooks you dinner. He still talks to you about his day. You never see the light leave his eyes.

Kuroo Tetsuro was a star by his own right. He was the sun, bright and warm. You are always sure of his presence. You sense the remnants of his radiance the night before in the early morning just as you wake up. You hear the warmth in his boisterous laughter through the thin walls of your apartment. You feel his blazing passion for the sport that he loves when the sound of rubber on skin hits your ears (or sometimes it’s the sound of things getting broken).

Kuroo was the sun, a small star. Small stars don’t go as loudly as massive stars do, and they stay around for much longer. But they still cease to burn once they exhaust their fuel.

You wonder, sometimes, how Kuroo manages to keep his light burning.

There are days that the darkness creeps into his being. You’ve seen it. On days when the knock on your door isn’t as loud and lively, when his hands aren’t as nimble in slicing onions, when his laugh doesn’t ring the right way. And you know that the sun, like massive stars, like all stars, will collapse.

But he doesn’t.

He still calls his mother and sister relentlessly, trying to rekindle what was once there. Despite the social barriers that the pandemic has built, you can hear him still laughing loudly with his friends on video calls. Despite the halt in sports activities, he keeps his love for volleyball burning.

It makes you rethink whether he is a star in the first place. Something as brilliant as he is, who manages to burn bright despite everything, is something out of this world.

You ask him one day.

On this particular day, he shows you a meme, “Are medical students who graduated online called google docs?”

You give a skeptical look at the idiot who was hysterically cackling himself to death.

“Why do you laugh at this as if it’s going to solve all of your problems?” you ask him.

The premise is anything but serious. Yet, you feel like he knows what you’re talking about.

Kuroo tries to regain some composure.

“It won’t,” he says, moving a hand across his all-time bedhead. “But hey, at least even with all my problems, I was able to laugh, right?”

Huh.

You stare at him, as if seeing the sun for the first time in a long while.

The next day is still loaded with tests and homework. You still feel dumb. You still have no friends and no clubs. You still turn up the music. You still linger under the sunlight a little while longer. Your time in the shower is still a bit lengthier.

This time, you allow these things to make you smile.

Six fifty-nine—you are by the door, waiting.

Tap, tap—

You open the door before he finishes knocking.

“Good evening,” you greet first.

“Good evening,” he says, a bit taken back.

You hum your favorite song as he cooks sanma shio yaki (which you know is his favorite) and talks about his day.

Later, when you are preparing dessert, he asks, “Did anything good happen today?”

You think about it. “Hmm… Nothing in particular. Why?”

“I just… haven’t seen that smile in a while.”

Your fingers stop cutting midway across the strawberry shortcake you bought two hours before.

“Hmm?” You glance at him in your periphery.

“Yeah. It looks pretty.”

You take a sharp breath in.

You sense him take in his words as well.

You slowly turn your head back. As you expect, Kuroo Tetsurou has his hands scratching the back of his neck, trying to avoid your gaze.

Well, I’m not going to be the uncomfortable one here.

You allow yourself to tease him. “I do look pretty, don’t I?”

He glares at you. “As if!” But you see his ears flush pink.

You return to the strawberry shortcake that you were cutting.

You feel the edges of your lips inching their way closer to your eyes.

It’s been a while since you felt this way—this light. At the back of your mind, there were still essays to write, exams to study for, professors to impress, parents to make proud, and yourself to fix. The problems will never disappear.

And it’s not as if louder music, stronger sunlight, more bath water, and cornier jokes of the guy behind you could solve all of them.

But maybe if they can make you smile despite all the problems, then maybe… maybe you’re going to be okay.

Whether you are a massive star or whether Kuroo Tetsuro was the sun, you don’t know for sure.

You are by no means an astronomer. You are studying to become a physician. Instead of concerning yourself with celestial bodies, you should be concerning yourself with the human body.

From all the things that you were taught in medical school, this is something you know by heart: humans are made of the same elements as the stars are.

They are the same, yet they are different. Stars burn bright. And borrowing Guy Consolmagno’s words, they will end “either in a bang or in a whimper.”

Humans are different. They can burn unyieldingly without ceasing. Kuroo Tetsuro has proven that to you.

At present, that is all the reassurance that you need.

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hufflautia · 3 years

Text

In Sickness and in Health

Requested by @milk-leaves!

Warnings: A very brief and non-explicit sexual implication

Summary: Slytherin catches the flu. Luckily, her husband is there to help. However, her stubborn nature and insistent claim that “she can’t be sick because she’s never been sick in her entire life” makes it a little difficult for Hufflepuff to assist her. Marriage isn’t always easy, but with the proper amount of love and patience, everything works out in the end.

Slytherin grabs the garbage can just in time to vomit into the basket. When she finishes, she wipes her mouth with a grimace and rests her forehead against the bed.

“Honey?”

She looks up and sees Hufflepuff standing by the door, his forehead puckered as he takes in her appearance. Her hair unruly, she’s slumped on the floor of their bedroom, looking tired and pale.

Usually, Slytherin would be happy to see her husband. However, all she feels is irritation in the wake of his presence, and she leans against the side of the mattress once more.

“What are you doing here,” she croaks, eyeing him as he approaches her and kneels down. “I thought you had to go to the Ministry today.”

“It was a minor emergency, so I left early.” He regards her carefully. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Hufflepuff frowns. “But you threw up.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing that a lot today,” she murmurs weakly. Noticing his eyes widen, she snorts. “I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking. I got my period today.”

He gives her a sympathetic look. “I imagine it’s been a very fun day for you.”

“The best I’ve ever had, actually.”

Leaning in ever so slightly, that’s when Hufflepuff sees it—the faint flush on her face, the way she folds her arm around herself, the tinge of hoarseness in her voice.

He reaches out and touches Slytherin’s forehead. Her skin feels hot and cold at the same time. She bats away his hand in annoyance. “What are you doing,” she snaps, scowling at him. Her anger immediately falters when she notices how his eyebrows rise, a look of surprise mixed with hurt spreading onto his face.

“You have a fever,” he confirms quietly.

Slytherin resists a frown. “But I never get sick.”

“Well, it happens to the best of us.” He gets up. “Wait here, I’ll get some medicine.”

“I don’t need it,” she calls after him but he’s already in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. He returns with a bottle and a small cup. Taking a seat before pouring red liquid into the cup, he ignores her when she says his name in a tone of indignation, insisting that she isn’t sick.

Hufflepuff hands it to her. “Drink,” he says firmly. When she juts her chin out and pouts, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honey, I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel better.”

She still doesn’t move. This time, he returns her unyielding stare with one of his own. His tone is hard and demanding as he warns, “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

Slytherin grudgingly brings the cup to her lips. If she didn't feel like complete shit right now, she would keep pushing his patience for fun. She’d even be a little turned on by his authoritative voice. Probably both.

She immediately makes a face as the medicine slides down her throat. “This tastes like ass,” she grumbles, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and setting the cup down.

He chuckles. “Medicine tends to taste that way.” He stands and offers his hand. “Come. I’m sure a warm shower sounds perfect right now.”

A faint smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “How’d you know,” she asks, taking his hand. A wave of nausea sweeps over her when she gets up, and he quickly plants his hands on either side of her.

“I’m your husband,” he pulls her closer, “I know these things.”

Slytherin wraps her arms around him. “Will you carry me to the bathroom,” she mumbles into his sweater.

He presses a kiss to the top of her head before picking her up bridal-style with care.

“Do you even have to ask?”

A couple of hours pass. Feeling drowsy from the medicine, Slytherin took a long nap before waking up to the smell of homemade soup. Hufflepuff cooked something for her while she was sleeping. To her dismay, he also gave her another cup of NyQuil, but she drank it without any resistance. Afterwards, her headache subsided and was diminished to a dull pain, which is nothing compared to before.

Now, she is laying in bed, feeling comfortable and content as she snuggles with her husband while he reads her favorite book out loud. She’ll probably never openly admit it but she loves when they cuddle. Listening to the smooth drawl of his voice, she catches a few words while dozing in and out of sleep. Her lips curve into a smile. He’s getting to her favorite part where he speaks in a ridiculous voice when reading the dialogue of an ancient wizard.

Hufflepuff had read the book to her before when they were dating. He used the same wise and raspy voice as he uses now. At that moment, as she attempted to hold in her laughter, she knew he was the one. Funnily enough, he ended up proposing to her a month later.

Feeling the familiar tug in her heart that can only be classified as complete adoration, Slytherin musters enough strength to pull herself out of the cozy arms of sleep. She shifts around so that she can properly see his face and says his name tenderly.

“What is it,” he asks, putting the book down. “Is your headache still bothering you?”

“A little, but...I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I was angry at you for no reason, but it might’ve been because of my period, and you already know how bad my PMS gets sometimes, but I still feel terrible about being so rude because you’re so great and sweet and you were only trying to help but I was being so difficult and I think I’m just not really used to people taking care of me, so I was trying to handle this flu on my own but I still shouldn’t have acted that way—and I literally hit your fucking hand and I hate myself for it because you don’t deserve it at all, you deserve so much more than whatever I have to offer...” Words continue to spill from her mouth as she rambles on and on, not bothering to pause for a breath of air.

Hufflepuff says her name and she finally stops, staring back at him with a contorted expression as if she were trying to back tears. He cups her cheek, to which she leans into his warm touch. “Please don’t worry about that anymore, honey, it’s okay. Honestly. I’ve been with you long enough to know that there’s no one else I would rather be with but you. Even with your stubbornness, I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more.” He gives her a reassuring smile as she looks back at him with watery eyes. “Just focus on resting for now, okay?”

She nods and tries to smile back, getting a little choked up in the process. His words are laced with so much endearment that she realizes just how lucky she is to have someone like him to spend the rest of her life with. She puts her hand over his.

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for loving me as you do.”

His gaze is so unimaginably soft that, for a split second, Slytherin wonders how it’s even possible. He leans in, and she happily closes the distance.

One might think that as time passes for a married couple, the love begins to stale. This is not true in their case, for the flutter in her stomach intensifies as they kiss. She can only focus on how soft he feels against her lips, how he invades all her senses in the best way possible. Her fingers grip the front of his shirt while his hand rests against the curve of her neck when they finally pull apart. Their noses brush against each other as they lock eyes.

“I love you,” she breathes.

“I know,” he murmurs. “And I love you.”

“Good. Because we’re stuck with each other forever.”

“I’d be sad if we weren’t,” he replies with a grin, retrieving the book. “Shall I continue reading?”

She beams at him before laying her cheek against his chest. “Yes please.”

Hufflepuff flips to the page he left off from. While he reads, he traces patterns around her stomach, as if he's painting a beautiful masterpiece over her skin.

A couple of chapters in, Slytherin momentarily closes her eyes as his melodious voice washes over her.

The sound of his steady heartbeat lulls her to sleep.

FIN.

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :)

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It took me a while to come up with an idea for this (also, to the person who requested this, I hope you are satisfied :D). My friend had the idea of “a vacation gone horribly wrong”. It was a fantastic idea - I even made a google doc for it and everything, but I did not write out a sufficient amount of general details for it because nothing solid came to mind. Then, when I was trying to go to sleep, I came up with this idea and I am very happy with how it came out!!

I modeled Hufflepuff after Steve Rogers to some extent. He has that gentle giant type of vibe. He is kind and loving, but he’ll be stern if he needs to. I have to admit, the thought of making a series about slytherpuff married life has crossed my mind while writing this one-shot. I am still contemplating it. If I do create the series, it won’t be restricted to this couple specifically, but I will consider writing more stories about them because I really do adore their dynamic! Anyways, if I were to write that series, it would be different stories with different couples. It might not even be classified as a series but more as a collection of slytherpuff married life stories. Also, there would probably be at least one nsfw story included in that collection, but I will not be writing any smut until after my birthday, which is in April. *HI THIS IS JESSICA FROM THE NEXT DAY, aka the day that i’m gonna post this and im just going over the fic. while i was sleeping, i just thought of ANOTHER marriage fic so i think im going to make a married life collection of storiessss :D :D :D!!! however, im still wondering about whether i should write it, because the story idea is a little eh. if anyone has any other marriage life ideas, please feel free to let me know! before, i was a little hesitant on making a collection because it was hard for me to think of ideas for this fic when the request came in. hopefully, that will change in the future. also why do i keep coming up with good ideas for stories in my sleep lmao*

Writing this story was fun. I stayed up until 2 am for four straight days while writing. Lmao how odd is it to see those two sentences right next to each other? In all honestly, I didn’t feel like it was 2 am because I was in the zone. I just kept writing until I told myself to go to bed because the future morning me will regret it--and lemme tell you, she really does. Anyways, I used my own experience with medicine for fevers. I absolutely hate the taste of NyQuil; I remember when my mom would make me drink small cups of it whenever I was sick. Also, when I was writing Sly’s rambling bit, I did not put any periods in the paragraph because I wanted to make it seem like she’s going on and on and isn’t stopping. However, I thought it to be weird and so I put the paragraph into the “translate to english” thing so that I could press the audio icon and hear what it sounds like. I’m happy to report that it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard in my entire life because her monotone voice saying all that was very amusing.

There is no telling what fic I will post next. Last week, I was all over the place and working on several fics, moving from one to another when I got bored of the story. Also, my mental state is not the best at the moment. I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my writing recently, and I’m probably gonna go through another episode of that because this is gonna be the first fic that marks the end of tag lists and so this is probably gonna be an underrated fic because fewer ppl will see it. I came to realize that it’s not me who’s writing bad fics; even though I tag people, there’s a noticeable lack of interaction, so it’s likely that some of my followers just aren’t active anymore. There was a fanfic writer who I really like because their loki fics are amazing. A few weeks ago, I found their other blog that I was not aware of beforehand and they made a post 3 weeks ago saying that they would no longer be writing fics because there were barely any people interacting with them. She seemed really upset, saying stuff like “I guess my fics just aren’t good enough”, “no one can save me anymore” (I know that sounds very ominous but she was insinuating “no nice comments will make me change my mind”), and “I feel like deleting my blog because there’s a sense of failure in just leaving them there”. This made me really sad, and a part of me was afraid that one day, I would adopt a similar mindset. However, I know that there’s a group of people who will always be there to read my stories, so I’m gonna try to hold onto that idea and continue writing to make you happy and myself happy as well. Also I just realized that I always include one part in my author’s note that’s just sad for some reason :’)

ANYWAYS, I remember making a post a longgggg time ago that said “I promise that I will finish the slytherpuff series if it’s the last thing I do”. That has changed; I plan to post all the chapters leading up to their requited love at last (aka the part in which they actually get into a relationship together). After that, there’s still a bunch of chapters but they’re just fluffy bits, i.e. rainy day, they bake together, oop it’s one of their birthdays, etc. In other words, they aren’t essential to the plot. I could turn them into one-shots and stuff, but some of the chapters relate to the characters’ lives. In addition, it’s sweet to see their relationship progress. For those chapters regarding fluffy bits of their relationship, I won’t feel incentive to write them right away because their love is already requited and I also have two big series that I would rather work on. However, I’m not gonna start another series yet because I don’t wanna leave you on a cliffhanger in Chapter 3 and suddenly start writing a whole other series. The plan is to post all the chapters for the slytherpuff series leading up to the moment when they start dating (Chapter 7 or 8 will probably be when they actually get together). That way, there’s no rush to complete it because it’s just easy and sweet since they’re already in a relationship and readers aren’t anxiously waiting to see what happens next. After that, I will probably begin writing the other series, which will be different from the original slytherpuff series. You’ll see why. Once in a while, I will go back to the original series and write for that when I feel like it.

I’m trying my best to finish writing Chapter 4 :( It is gonna be long - I’ve already written about 7 pages and I am thinking of splitting it into two parts. If I do, I might be posting part 1 soon because it’s kind of already done. Then again, I like the idea of just posting it all at once. We’ll see! I’m gonna try to work on that after this. My desire to write is sporadic, but comments and interactions from readers are very impactful in terms of my motivation to write, so be sure to leave feedback if you can! I’ll see you all again the next time I post a fic. Thanks for reading!

Tags:

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years

Text

An Incriminating Blush - Moniwa x Reader

Summary: As you finally allow Moniwa to help you with your project, you wonder if the guy you've fallen for would ever like you back.

Pairing: Moniwa x f!reader

Genres, tropes, etc.: fluff, pining, getting together, friends to lovers, second year Moniwa

Words: 1,461

Author's Notes: I'm back to writing for an underrated character. lol. Another one of those, 'I don't know if anyone will read it but I'm going to write it anyway' lol. It's been a long time since I've written something so if you're on my taglist and aren't interested anymore, just let me know through this Google doc.

Author's note 2: This is the one-shot version of the Operation Moniwa SMAU that I dropped. This fic is pure romance though. I couldn't keep up the comedy in the SMAU. lol.

*****

Biting his lip as he held the stylus, Moniwa's hand glided over your drawing tablet, outlining the roof of the cafe.

"I told you to stop drawing," you remembered Moniwa scolding you the day before.

You sighed, watching him as he continued to draw on the digital canvas. You preferred to do the work by yourself, but Moniwa's offers were persistent because you often took on too much work. Even with your school's art festival coming up soon, you continued to refuse his help until you finally injured your wrist.

Your eyes fell on Moniwa's arm and hand as he continued to draw strokes on the awnings. Two of his knuckles were wrapped with tape from a toss gone wrong. A splinter from woodworking class made its mark on his thumb. Yet his fingers moved precisely from the abundant practice from creating technical drawings.

Looking at his furrowed brows, you admired the man you had fallen for. "You're really good at this," you commented with a gentle smile.

Still focused on the drawing, Moniwa replied with a wide grin, "I told you to let me help."

You laughed, expecting this answer. "How's the volleyball team doing?" you asked.

Moniwa sighed and slumped back on his chair as he reflected on their recent team meeting. "They made me the captain for the spring tournament," he told you. "The third years decided to retire to focus on school."

"That really suits you," you laughed.

"You haven't seen what my kouhais are like," he said. "Those first years are going to give me so much trouble."

"I'm a first year too," you said with a smirk.

After thinking for a moment, he replied, "That explains a lot."

You laughed and punched his arm in response. "So how are the other guys doing? Sasaya? Kamasaki?"

"Oh them?" he hummed. "They've been trying to set me up with someone...," he explained, words trailing.

You felt your stomach tighten, knowing exactly why. You ignored it. "That's sweet of them," you said with a smile.

"I thought so too at first. But then it got awkward, so I told them to stop," he continued. "Especially when I found out it was you..." Moniwa suddenly pressed his lips together, realizing he said too much. "Sorry! I shouldn't have told you that!" he explained in a fluster. "Now I'm just making it more awkward," he added, slapping his own forehead.

"No! No! It's okay!" you reassured him. "It's not awkward at all," you lied. You had always thought that Moniwa had only seen you as a friend, which was why you continued to hide your feelings from him. You were content enough to continue with your unexpected friendship with him. You held it close to your heart, attempting to protect it from cracking under your care.

After Moniwa left, you sat on your bed, the mattress sinking under your weight. Heaving a sigh, you wondered if you should move on. You've liked Moniwa since you had met him at the skating park a year ago, before you had entered high school. You shook your head, wishing to direct your mind elsewhere only to start scrolling through your past messages with him.

Moniwa was eager to help you when your skateboard broke. The axel was rusted and caused the front wheels to be unstable. You tried to use it anyway, only to be met with frustration. The skateboard was a gift from your eighth birthday. You had it for six years.

When Moniwa said he could salvage it, you didn't believe him, especially since he was only a year older than you. With scrap metal from projects and access to the machines at school, your next skateboard ride was smooth as if it were new again.

Lying on your bed, you shifted and faced the other way. You knew Moniwa was the kind of guy who'd help anyone. But when he started helping your classmate, Ami, with her theatre set, you couldn't help but be jealous. You knew he must have been busy constructing it, which was one of the reasons why you initially rejected his help. But he continued to insist, especially after you injured your wrist. You couldn't help but feel a little special, only to remember that this was normal for his personality.

Sighing, you thought that maybe it was enough to just be friends.

*****

It was 7 o’clock in the evening when you popped your head into the back theatre room. You saw Moniwa from the hallway after leaving your own classroom. With the school festival a week away, Moniwa was alone putting together the large pieces of the ship deck for the play.

The deck was about six feet wide. There was just barely enough room for it because one side of the room was filled with rows of costumes while the far side was filled shelves of various props. You spotted a decorative mirror, a Victorian dress, and a few jousting swords.

You gave Moniwa a large wave to get his attention. His eyes lit up when he saw you and he placed his power drill on his work table once he finished fastening the screw. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I finished up my tasks for our class’s activities. So I ran away before the class president could nag me to do more work,” you laughed as you shuffled into the room. “I only wanted to take a break and see what everyone else was working on.”

Moniwa smiled, giving a light tap on your head. “Y/n, you should go back. You’re always running away from your class prez.”

You pouted, rubbing your head to pretend you were hurt. “And I thought I left the nagging.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come here,” he said with a smug grin.

You heard chatter and footsteps from the hallway and quickly pushed Moniwa further into the room. After taking a few steps back, Moniwa stumbled on some costumes that were on the floor and he barely caught himself when he almost tripped on them. You also slipped but Moniwa’s chest and arms prevented you from falling.

Lifting your eyes to meet his, you remembered that Moniwa looked taller when he wasn’t beside his giant teammates. But as your gaze focused on him, he quickly turned his head away from you. He didn't realize that his action did very little to hide his face. After glancing to the side to the decorative standing mirror, your eyes widened.

"Moniwa…," you said. "Are you blushing?"

"N-n-no I'm not!" he stuttered, frantically waving his arms. But it was obvious to you because he had turned his face back to you, now seeing an even clearer view of his red nose and cheeks.

When you raised an eyebrow, he promptly covered his face with his hands and threw his head back in defeat. "Sorry Y/n," said his muffled voice. "Pretend you didn't see that."

You saw him bite his lip as he turned away from you, presumably to leave the room. When you grabbed his hand, he froze. You felt his hand clam up.

"What if I don't want to pretend," you told him. Moniwa turned to you, blinking a few times, your words not making any sense to him. So you clarified. "Moniwa, I like you."

At first, he froze. He was so stiff that you thought he wouldn't move even if you were to give him a poke. But when he came to, his words rushed out of his mouth in a fluster. "What? Why would you like me? You're smart and pretty and talented and fun to be around…" He continued to ramble. "And I'm plain and boring and not very strong and–"

You quickly cut him off when you hugged his waist and relaxed onto his chest. He liked you. You couldn't believe he liked you. Moniwa just didn't understand how amazing he was. You were pretty sure Ami liked him as well. You sighed, wishing you had noticed his insecurities earlier. You've been watching him for at least a year. You felt like you should have known.

You laughed, more out of relief than amusement. He liked you back. All those memories of you anguishing over your unrequited feelings suddenly vanished and were replaced with joy. He liked you.

Moniwa flailed his arms when you fastened your hold even tighter on his waist. He quickly scanned the room, nervous that others might have seen.

"So are you going to hug me back or not?" you asked.

"I- Is that okay?"

You gave him a smirk, then a peck on the cheek. "Of course."

You once again saw that blush that you were waiting months to finally see. A blush reserved only for you.

*****

I hope you liked it. If you like my stories, here's a Google form to be added to my taglist and/ or check out my masterlist to see all of my writing.

Taglist: @celestialarchiveshq @whootwhoot @charmingchikara @megumiisee @anejuuuuoy @pastel-prynce + @iwaisa (because it's Moniwa)

#haikyuucreations #haikyuu x reader #moniwa x reader #moniwa kaname #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #moniwa fanfiction #dateko x reader #dateko #datekou #haikyuu dateko #date tech #date tech high #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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aimerriarkle · 4 years

Text

you are my home | t.h.

pairing: fwb!tom holland x reader

word count: 1.2k

a/n: so uhm, this is probably gonna be bleh because this is my first time posting a fic lol. i don’t usually write, but when i do, it usually just stays in my drafts in google docs hehe. anyway i hope whoever reads this likes it :) also it’s not proofread and i wrote this at like 2am so pls be kind hehe,, but i’d really appreciate some feedback lool, so my asks are open if you have any!!

warnings: very minimal nsfw material in the beginning, angst, heartbreak

summary: you and tom have been fwb for quite some time now. you’d like to think that your relationship has evolved past that, but does he think so?

part one —> part two —> part three

masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧

The warmth of his hovering body radiated onto you. Every touch and grip from his calloused hands was like the press of a hot iron onto your skin. Soft lips hungrily leaving a trail of rough kisses down your neck. You let out a light moan when his palm pushes against your clothed slit. His hot breaths blow against your neck, the feeling sending contrastingly cold goosebumps around your body.

It had been six months since you began your deal with Tom. Six months filled with absolute pleasure, bliss, and ecstasy. All it took was for a stupid game of truth or dare at one of your college parties for you and him to cross paths. Little did you know that eventually, each and every single one of your salacious escapades and rendezvous would have left you with a lingering feeling of loneliness.

After a couple of weeks, every late night post-sex goodbye kiss had turned into a parting kiss when you both went off on your way to class after a small home-cooked breakfast together; every 1am “you up?” text message had evolved into mid-afternoon “coffee?” text messages; dates to frat parties became dates to the movies; your weekly scheduled ‘study sessions’ to help one another relieve stress turned to legitimate study sessions. Because of this, over time, you grew to have feelings for him. And over time, you thought he would too.

Yet here you were, body trapped by his, hair in a ruffled mess, arousal collecting in your underwear. It was as if nothing had actually evolved between the two of you.

Shaking your head, you tense up and push his chest away from yours, signalling that you had wanted to stop. He becomes puzzled but obliges anyway.

“Wha— is something wrong?” he asks, his cute, red and puffy lips forming into a pout.

You stutter incoherent sentence starters for a few seconds, unable to compose the words you needed to say. You came to his flat with a plan to express to him how you felt, but so far, all you had managed to do was crumble into yourself.

Tom reaches over and places one of his hands on top of your fidgeting ones, and that in itself was enough to bring some comfort. To you, the sweet gesture had felt a little reassuring—it showed that he cared, that he was present and ready to be your much needed support from whatever was troubling you. Maybe he might feel the same, you thought. The gesture and thought sparked a herd of butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and usually, you’d cave in and retreat into yourself, but at that moment, it was definitely the confidence booster you needed.

“I—I think I’m in love with you...”

You bite your bottom lip, anticipating for him to say something, anything. You stare at him with hopeful eyes as he hadn’t reared away from you yet, and you didn’t sense that he would anytime soon. But a few minutes went by and all he had done was look at you and then down at his lap, mouth opening and closing like your earlier on.

Then he finally looks up with a frown on his face, he hand jolted up from yours for a split second before it hesitantly moved to land on yours again—an action he didn’t think you’d notice but you had.

“Y/N I-”

You quickly retract your hands from his grip and stand up.

“No, it’s fine. Uhm, I-I should go…” you say in a broken whisper, smoothing down your shorts and grabbing your phone from the coffee table. You make your way over to the door but stop in your tracks midway. Part of your body was telling you to not walk away and just leave it at that, you had come too far to leave it unresolved. But the other part of your body was telling you no, that by keeping quiet, Tom had made it crystal clear as to how he felt. You knew you should have listened to that part of your gut, but against your better judgement, you turn around to confront him.

“Tom, look I’m in love with you okay? You’re literally all I think about, every goddamn song I hear just reminds me of you! Everytime I think of you, hear you, see you, my heart just feels like it could soar the sky forever, and my days just become instantly better. All the smiles, the laughs, the moments we share just makes me feel like I’m at home, that you are where I’m supposed to be, that you are my home.”

“We’re just friends, Y/N.” Tom says, a saddened look glossing over his eyes.

“Tom, please don’t do this, I know you don’t really mean that…” You plead.

Your vision quickly blurs as it fills up with tears. You hated crying and he knew that, but even as he slowly tore your heart into shreds, you dared to walk closer to him in an attempt to find some much needed comfort. He slowly backs away and that’s when the tears came raining down along your cheek.

None of it had made sense to you. You were sure he felt the same, or at least that felt something. What you started with in the beginning was just platonic yes, but you knew that the way your relationship was now, was nowhere near the word. You cuddled not just after sex, but during the study sessions where you were just too exhausted and drift off into sleep. When you watched movies you curled up next to him, his arms enveloping you in warmth, making you feel protected and safe from all the dangers of the horror movies you’d typically watch. He made or bought your food when you were too stressed and busy just to make sure you;d eat, he brought you to restaurants after every exam you had just to celebrate you completing it, regardless of whether you even passed or not.

Tom looks at you solemnly, his eyes welling up on their own because he hated to see you like this, and he hated being like this.

You let out a sob, “Tom please… L-look, I know I should walk away right now, b-but I can’t…”

…

“If you really meant what you said, j-just tell me to walk away and I will.”

Enough tears had flowed from your eyes to make two small patches of wet carpet beneath your feet. And at that point your legs were just so weak that they began to violently tremble, so much so that if any small force was worked against it, you would’ve been knocked straight toward the ground.

Tom shaked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, in an attempt to stop his own tears from falling. He quickly rubs his eyes and looks at you with a cold glare, “Please leave.”

#tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #fwb!tom holland #tom holland imagines

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years

Text

the story of us

this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.

masterlist; my links

This is a story about two people.

One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.

The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.

This is a story about who they are.

"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"

He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.

"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."

"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"

"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."

"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.

He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.

"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"

He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.

"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."

"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"

"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.

Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.

"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."

"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.

He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."

She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"

"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.

As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.

Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.

They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.

"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"

He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."

Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.

"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."

She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."

"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.

A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.

"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.

Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.

"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.

"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."

And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.

"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."

He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.

This is story about they meet.

The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.

He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.

The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?

He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.

But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now

Jack Frost was in the garden;

I saw him there at dawn;

He was dancing round the bushes

And prancing on the lawn.

He had a cloak of silver,

A hat all shimm'ring white,

A wand of glittering star-dust,

And shoes of sunbeam light.

The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.

It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.

"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"

He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.

"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.

He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.

Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.

They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.

Are you okay? They sign.

He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.

"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."

Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?

“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.

His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.

"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.

Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.

But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"

That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.

"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"

“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.

"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."

"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"

"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."

He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.

They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."

Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.

"So what are you? A child of Selene?"

"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."

The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.

"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.

"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."

Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"

"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."

"How—how do you know?"

"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."

He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.

"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"

"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."

He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you to summon water for me."

A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.

A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.

"How much do you need?"

"Give me fifty liters."

He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.

"Is this enough?"

"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.

"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"

"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.

"About?" He prompts.

"We're soulmates."

This is a story about their destinies.

"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.

"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."

"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.

"You don't believe in soulmates?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."

"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.

"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.

"Do you know why you can see me?"

He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.

"Because you believe in me."

"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.

"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."

"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"

Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.

"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.

"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"

"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."

"How do you know that?" He gapes.

"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"

"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."

“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”

They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”

Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.

“Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.

“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”

“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”

A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”

“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.

Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”

“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.

“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”

He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."

They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."

“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.

And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.

This is a story about their love.

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

[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:

Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.

Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.

Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"

the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]

Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01 @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant

#Jack Frost x Percy Jackson #Crackships keep fandom alive #Jack Frost #Percy Jackson #PJJG fanfic #the story of us #not edited

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

Come Over (2/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you everybody for the amazing feedback on the first chapter! I don’t think I’ve ever had that much response from the get go on a new series. Anyways, this part’s a bit longer. Feedback/comments/reblogs are always appreciated! ♥ P.S. - Not sure how many of you saw my recent post regarding tag lists but I figure I’d mention it here: I am not longer doing tag lists. Honestly the work to payoff ratio is so off there’s no point in my doing them anymore, coupled with the fact that Google docs is unreliable. More than half the people on these lists don’t interact with the stories they’re tagged for anyways, so I’m just not doing tag lists anymore. Please don’t ask me for tags.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Your first day at Stark Industries goes perfectly. Tony is a little ...out there for lack of better terminology, but overall he is the perfect boss—not too needy except in his caffeine addiction. He doesn’t go easy on you, firing off press conferences and meetings and so many other events at you in some funny attempt to get you to slip up. You surprise him by repeating each event, date and time included, in perfect chronological order. Behind his sunglasses, his dark eyebrows raise.

Your lunch is taken at your desk as you fill in your new planner with all the events Tony had given you. Your entire month of September seems to be filled to the brim with meetings you’re required to sit on, presentations of new tech, and luncheons with other big conglomerates in the industry. It’s overwhelming, but you didn’t plunge yourself into massive student debt for easy.

You even get a chance to meet a few of your coworkers when you step out for coffee for both you and Tony. Unsurprisingly, he takes it black with two sugars. A brunette woman and a tall man with glasses stand in front of you in the coffee shop on the bottom floor of the building, and when she notices you, she smiles and turns around to fully face you.

“You must be Tony’s new assistant,” she says. Returning her smile, you nod and throw out a hand.

“Y/N.”

“Wanda. And this is Vis, he works in Finance for Stark Industries.” The tall man smiles too and instead of shaking your hand, he kisses the back of it. Wanda giggles at the surprised look on your face and lightly slaps Vis in the chest.

“Vis, don’t scare the poor girl on her first day.”

The two of them step up to the counter and order, and Wanda waits while you do the same. She pulls you into a light conversation, asking how your first day is going, what it’s like so far working for Tony, where you moved from, and you answer them all easily. Wanda seems to be an easygoing person, one you look forward to getting to know better. Vis is quiet, but he interjects here and there for clarification on some things or to ask you questions of his own.

Wanda works in Marketing for the company, a huge duty in your opinion, but she seems to like the responsibility. She’s funny and sweet, and the three of you get into the elevator together once you all have your coffees. After exchanging numbers and a promise for a night out together soon, you part ways. Tony’s on the phone when you step into his office after knocking lightly with your knuckles, and he waves you in while telling the person on the other line just where he can shove “such a bullshit offer”.

Your face must show your slight shock at Tony’s mannerism because he smirks and accepts the coffee you hold out to him, downing half of it in a single gulp. He jiggles the cup idly.

“Sometimes you gotta play a little hardball. I’m expecting his call back in about, oh, twenty minutes,” he boasts, spinning on his heel to saunter over to the workstation set up in his office. “So, new blood, why me?”

You’re momentarily surprised by the question; most of your day had been spent following Tony around and scribbling down notes, and now you find yourself put on the spot by his suddenly asking about you. Mentally you fumble for an answer, your confidence a little wobbly after the surprise wears off.

“Where else am I going to be part of the greatest technology to ever exist?” is the response you settle on, if only to stroke Tony’s wild ego a bit. He grins cheekily and sips at his coffee.

“I like you,” he mutters, as if to himself.

He asks you a few more personal questions about yourself, questions that weren’t answered in the interview he regrettably, so he says, could not be present for. It feels rather odd having this kind of rapport with your boss, but it definitely doesn’t feel like a bad thing. Your previous employers only cared about your being on time and getting your work done, but Tony seems to take an honest interest in your schooling, your experiences, and where you see yourself headed in the future.

“Yikes,” he yelps when he checks the Stark Watch on his wrist. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long. I’m sure you have some work to finish up before you go home.”

He says it with an apologetic smile behind his sunglasses, and the responding smirk you send him feels natural.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“Ah, ah, Tony, please. Mr. Stark makes me sound old and cynical.”

You snort. “Very well, Tony. If I don’t see you before I leave I’ll see you in the morning for our seven AM meeting with AIMTech.”

Winking quickly, you spin around and head back to your office, humming lowly but happily. Your first day at Stark Industries has gotten much better than expected and it puts a small spring in your step as you head back to your office. Office. You can’t even believe that as a personal assistant you’re entitled to an actual office as opposed to just a desk out in the open. But, from what you could gather from talking to Wanda, working for Stark Industries won’t feel like work at all.

You finish keying in changes and adjustments to Tony’s schedule that you’ve received via email. Fortunately, your meeting the next morning remains unchanged, but you feel secure in staying on top of everything. There’s a comfort and a calmness that comes with strict, almost obsessive organization for you. Things feel complete, in their proper places, and so you spend the last fifteen minutes of your work day organizing and reorganizing your desk in a fashion that seems most efficient and less hectic. Your planner is within easy reach, and your computer calendar is pinned to your taskbar. You feel good, at home here, where you can keep someone else’s life perfectly organized.

You take the subway home, earbuds shoved in your ears and streaming the latest episode to the My Favorite Murder podcast. Your feet are a little sore from your shoes, only slight relief when you shift your weight and readjust your feet inside them. The couch, a blanket, and some tea are desperately calling your name as you step off the subway and walking stiffly back to your apartment building. Your first real day in the city had been spent familiarizing and memorizing the routes to and from work so as not to be late for your first day. Now you know it perfectly and you greet the doorman to your building with a tired smile.

Your day was invigorating, but man, are you exhausted. Now that the pressure to be professional and keep focus is off, you allow your shoulders to drop with a sigh. The rickety elevator doors open with a squeak and you step inside and lean against the cool metal of the back wall.

Bucky is in the hallway when the doors open on your floor, looking like he’d just gotten home from work himself and on the phone. Your steps falter a little at the look on his face; it’s pinched, brows furrowed low over his eyes and jaw muscles jumping. You can’t hear him from the elevator where you wait, his voice is low and hurried and sharp. He’s arguing with someone, that much is obvious.

Carefully you step forward, acting as if you weren’t assessing him and his body language, and busy yourself with unlocking your door.

“Oh, hey.”

You look up and over at Bucky, who has ended his phone call apparently but still holds the device in his hand. His smile is faint, and you give him a small, tired one of your own.

“Hi Bucky. Long day?” He catches the quick glance you give his phone and huffs, shoves it roughly into his pocket as if he wants to forget to conversation that’s just taken place.

“Somethin’ like that. How about you? You look tired, doll.” You swallow at the pet name, the way it rolls off his tongue lighting something warm in your belly. It’s forgotten though when Bucky’s face brightens with realization. “Oh! Today was your first day with Stark wasn’t it? How’d it go?”

“It went very well actually. Tony Stark is...not who I imagined he’d be when I first applied to work for him. He’s better, but he’s definitely way more out there than I’d expected.”

The two of you shoot the shit back and forth for a few minutes longer, Bucky’s previous phone call nearly forgotten until it rings again and his face falls when he checks the caller ID. He wags his phone in the air as it continues to shriek.

“I should take this. Hey, um, maybe this weekend you can tell me all about your first week?” He looks shy when he asks, and it only serves to make your face flush crimson. “O-Only if you want to, that is. I’m sure you’re still trying to get settled in.”

“I’d love to,” you interject before he can go off on a nervous tangent. “Maybe you can come over for coffee and help me assemble some furniture?”

“Sure,” he replies softly and with a grin. He seems to have forgotten about his phone until its ringing shatters the small silence again, and he frowns. “I’ll see you, Y/N.”

“Bye Bucky.” You just get the words out before his door closes and the lock flips.

Sighing, you enter your own apartment and kick the heels off your feet, wiggle your toes to get some feeling back into them. Through the walls of your apartment, you can hear Bucky’s raised voice, though it’s still muffled enough that you can’t make out the words.

Truth is, you’ve heard Bucky arguing a lot the past few days. Despite only been here a week, you’ve come to enjoy having Bucky as a neighbor. He’s a tattoo artist, you’ve learned, which explains sometimes why he’s home or away at weird hours, and you’re not surprised to learn he designed his own tattoos. And aside from the recent conflict that seeps through your conjoined walls, he’s quiet and doesn’t do anything untoward that would have you calling the landlord. He says hi to you when he sees you in the hallway or at the mailbox, asks about your day, and goes on his merry way.

And because of all that you may have developed just a teensy crush on the guy, for which you’ve scolded yourself because how could you possibly like a guy you’ve known, barely, a week?

With a small grunt, you head to the kitchen for a hefty glass of much deserved wine.

Chapter Three

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes neighbor au #neighbor au #neighbor!bucky

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stonyiscanon · 4 years

Text

socially awkward! peter parker x oblivious shit! reader

read: peter has a heart attack every time he talks to you because you’re too pretty and nice oof

lmfao just experimenting some new head canon//writing styles lmk what you guys think 🥺

it’s essentially a crack fic i have no regrets.

Warnings: an excessive amount of exclamation points used, overload of fluff, it might be little TOO crack-y if that’s even possible for me, a confusing amount of POV switches. ok it’s just shitty writing would you please read it.

Words: 4.8k this be a baby fic

Genre: fluffity fluff, idiots to lovers, high school! reader, god just read the title.

my masterlist is here if you want more shit

talk to me! be my friend please im lonely

peter first meets you when you’re new to midtown and you get sorted into his science class.

you sat in front of him your very first day and yeah he’s been soft™ for you ever since

like no joke the first time he saw your face he freezed up and choked on his banana

‘oh nO NED!!! she’s PRETTY!!’

‘like, REALLY pretty!!! S H I T’

‘um,,... okay ain’t that a good thing you sit behind her in class!! maybe you can ask for her number or something—‘

oh hohohohoho ned my friend,,

N O

ABSOLUTELY NOT

peter parker has spoken to you a total of twenty-two (22) times within the whole year that you’ve been... acquaintances?? classmates?? ….. friends???

and his fat secret crush on you will STAY A SECRET THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

he’ll die before he asks you out or makes a move because there’s no way in hell peter has a chance with you, the beautiful new girl.

‘i mean, she’s not just beautiful too! she’s so smart, and i know that because i can literally see all her notes from behind her and she gets like, basically all A’s, but she doesn’t even know she’s smart and beautiful?? like, she never raises her hand in class even though i know she knows all th-’

you would think ned would be tired of peter’s ‘shit I’m in LOVE’ rants by now, he’s not because we stan supportive friend ned.

hehe little does he know his big fat secret crush may not be,, totally unrequited

👀

oKAY so maybe you have a humongous tiny crush on the dorky cute guy who sits behind you in science class

WHAT ABOUT IT not like he likes you back anyways.

that one time you asked him for a pencil he looked like he was having an aneurysm!! like okay, are you that hideous or—?

(yeah it totally doesn’t hurt at all that the cute guy you like is repulsed by your presence and seems to ignore you and tense up whenever you’re around)

(t o ta ll y) 🤡

yeah y/n kinda dumb in this because the entire student body knows about peter’s (not so secret lmFAO) crush on you

everyone lOwkEy ships it

ned is president of the petery/n shipper fanclub

that may be because he’s the only member in aforementioned fanclub but you two have many supporters outside the fanclub

ned hypes peter up everytime science class comes around and peter gets kinda confident when he walks in the classroom

‘yeah! i got this!! maybe this time i won’t stare at her hair creepily and then run aw-‘

‘hey peter!’

asjkdjejnxHAUXINENEIAIRJBSJS

ABORT NEVERMIND I DONT GOT THIS ASKXISNNDKSN

peters brain has left the building

and he kinda stares at you for a sec and runs off to his seat at the back

hm, yeah he definitely doesn’t like you

you sigh as you take your seat in front of him, trying to ignore how your love for this dork is completely one sided

the entire class wants to throttle both of you

so then for the sake of the cliche and the plot (did you heart that fourth wall break?? nvm i didn’t hear nothin)

gasp group project time??!?!?!?!

dang who could have saw this coming

totally unexpected

wow

peter is half hoping to get you and half DREADING to

because he knows if he gets you he’ll be able to spend time with you but 300% won’t be able to function and will most certainly fail this project

but i mean who cares about grades.

in a plot twist that literally no one saw coming,,,

‘betty and liz, you’ll be doing yours on atomic structure,

and peter and y/n are partners! you’ll be doing...’

oh nO

you’re partnered up with peter!

i mean this is great news you get to stare at his precious face more but you’re basically forcing him to spend time with someone he doesn’t like!!

so you turn around and you give him an apologetic and (cute as FXCK) small smile

meanwhile, peter combusts

one look at your smile and he just knows he’s completely fucked

like he physically uwus so hard he slams his head on the table

‘oh! are.. you okay? i mean, is working with me really going to be that bad?’

awkward laugh to hide the pain,, quick y/n!!

‘nO!! i mean, no, absolutely not that’s not what i- it wasn’t my- i didn’t m-‘

you smile a little sadly this time and say,

‘don’t worry about it, i know you don’t like me. it’s only two weeks anyway. i promise i won’t take much of your time.’

wait. hold up. back up here. wha-? wHO doesn’t like W HO??

‘wait what do you mea-‘

‘don’t worry about it. wanna meet at the library after school to get a head start on this?’

‘uh, yeah. i mean- cowabunga…!’

wat

shit peter has never wanted to die more in his entire life

so he does what any other normal person would do and yEEts out the classroom full speed

leaving you slightly hurt but mostly just confused

peter strolls in the library casually attempting to strain his neck 360 degrees to look for you

he looks like a chicken and also that’s humanly impossible but leave him be he’s iN LOVE

he spots you on one of the study tables. he takes a deep breath,, and walks over

‘hey!! sorry i’m a little late, uh, something… came up haha’

acting like the poor boy didn’t stand outside the library for fifteen minutes thinking about what he was going to say to you

‘no worries!’ you shoot him another one of those painfully adorable smiles and peter wants nothing more but to give that smile a smooch because damn that is a face that deserves smooches

but he also has a tiny feeling that maybe you might not appreciate it if he randomly kissed you out of nowhere

(you would not mind at all but he doesn’t know that)

‘so yeah! ready to compare the wonders of chemistry and motion physics?’ peter says, bending down to snatch his backpack up to the table (effectively hiding his red cheeks)

you snort as you prop your elbows onto the table, resting your head on your hands.

‘the wonders? hm, i really can’t tell whether you’re being serious or not. guess you really are a dork.’

you giggle a little bit before you catch sight of peter looking like a gaping fish. you immediately slam your hands down, perhaps a little too loudly considering you’re in a library, and blurt out,

‘uh, I was.. joking! making a joke, in case, you know, that wasn’t obvious.’ You awkwardly hide your face between your fingers and squeak out a small apology

‘nO! no, no, don’t worry about it. yeah, I am a dork, so… yeah, i’m not offended, or anything. uh- just, yeah, don’t worry about it.’

well, that ruined the flow of conversation peter was so desperate to keep up with

none of you speak for a bit, opting to look around the very interesting library walls instead, until peter clears his throat and brings up motion physics again

yeah! this will be fine. all you have to focus on is science, and NOT peter’s very soft kissable lips and how good he looks in his light green coloured sweater

huh

oh no

desperately attempting to clear your mind, you try and focus on what he’s saying instead

it’s just SCIENCE, y/n. focus on the SCIENCE.

this distraction just-concentrate-on-the-work technique works for about the next hour or so as you guys study and work on this project

everything is going great!

you two have an organised google doc full of research and a finished introduction! you’re being extremely productive!

both of you are doing an amazing job at hiding your mutual (except none of you know it’s mutual) attraction!

so as you walk out the library beside peter some time later, you’re smiling softly, because even if your massive crush isn’t reciprocated, you and peter can maybe at least be friends by the end of this, right?

he didn’t even look like he detested you as much as usual today

maybe that’s because he was pretty much forced into cooperating with you because of this project, but you even caught him smiling at you today, so he must be warming up to you

which is great news, of course

peter swallows down his fear and the excessive amount of spit that is coating his tongue and turns to you

‘so, this was really fun’

you tilt your head, mildly horrified at his words

‘we need to stage you an intervention if a science project is something you classify as ‘fun’’

‘no, i mean, the science was kinda boring. spending time with you was really fun. ….right?’

oh good, he isn’t actually a complete monster who does science for fun

(he totally is but you don’t need to know that)

‘yeah! hanging out was really fun, even if we had to spend that time doing work’

you shudder and cringe when you mention ‘work’, because there are much more interesting things you’d rather be doing with peter

👀

‘yep.’

‘yeeep.’

‘so, we should meet up again to work on this… project. right?’ you’re shifting your weight and darting your eyes across the floor, desperately avoiding peter’s gaze.

‘yeah!!’

oof maybe that was a little too enthusiastic. maybe you didn’t notice?

‘i mean, yeah… yeah, totally. sounds… chill.’

oh god that’s worse isn’t it

‘great!’

cue awkward silence

‘so… um… can I maybe have your number?’

you stare blankly at him trying to conceal your excitement because did PETER PARKER just ask for YOUR number?!?!?!

oh no why aren’t you saying anything crapcrapcrap this is peter’s first time asking for ANYONE’S number did he mess up oh no he messed up didn’t he.

‘you know, for the project!!!!! haha!!!!’

oh. of course he wouldn’t actually want your number

*sigh these oblivious fucks I stg i’m the one who’s actually writing this and I want to throttle them*

‘oh… yeah, no problem! um, here’s my number’

‘cool! i’ll text you then!’

from peter p [12:48]

Hey y/n!! Um this is Peter btw. Peter Parker. From science class.

to peter p [12:49]

hey peter!

from peter p [12:49]

So if it’s cool w u do you want to meet up at my place? For the project haha, just figured a change of scenery might be nice. The library can get a little bit boring sometimes.

to peter p [12:49]

yeah sounds cool just send me ur address and i’ll be over after skl tdy if that’s ok

from peter p [12:50]

Yep awesome see u then

to peter p [12:50]

see u! :))

that smiley face almost makes his heart burst god he’s so whipped for you.

then the panic kicks in.

‘OHMYGOD Y/N Y/L/N IS COMING OVER.’

peter spends like three hours making sure the apartment is SPOTLESS.

spends like half an hour trying to decide whether he should take down all the Star Wars memorabilia down from his walls

like, he doesn’t want you to think he’s a DORK.

(too late peter)

but then ultimately keeps them up, partly because shit you’re coming in like 5 minutes he doesn’t have time for this

but also, you’re a nice person! you surely won’t make fun of him for having a knockoff replica of the death star in his room.

hopefully

oh god if you make fun of him for being a Star Wars nerd he will break down in tears HE HAS TO TAKE THEM DOWN

*ding*

fuck

peter stands up from his spinney chair abruptly and scrambles towards front door.

he spent some time this morning with Aunt May for girl advice and nothing really came out of that except a very traumatizing safe sex talk and some teasing that he will never be able to erase from his memory.

he takes a fast detour and quickly stops in front of the bathroom mirror on his way to open the door, desperately trying to tame the mop of curls and his head.

did I put on deodorant this morning? crap I brushed my teeth right?

*ding*

FUCK

peter stops in front of the door, takes a deep breath and-

‘hey!’ a strangled greeting comes out of his throat but hopefully you don’t notice how nervous he is.

you don’t, because this is oblivious shit!reader

‘hi peter!’

peter is suddenly very aware of how long you have been standing outside.

‘oH! sorry, um come in!!’ he says, opening the door wider and welcoming you in with (overly?) enthusiastic arms.

‘yeah! make yourself at home and everything. you want a drink or something?’

‘water would be nice.’

peter sprints to the kitchen to get you some ICE COLD water in his favourite mug.

peter parker’s apartment is covered with cosy furniture and photos of him and another middle aged woman. half those photos are him and that woman smiling brightly into the camera.

there’s a photo that’s nicely framed above the mantle that shows a young peter beaming in front of a birthday cake, with that same woman and another unknown middle aged man smiling down at him. the photo is clearly old and crumpled, even with the frame around it.

peter looks so happy in that photo…

huh. baby peter is just as adorable as he is now.

you jump away from the photo when you hear his footsteps coming back into the living room. something about the photo seemed emotional, personal. it just didn’t seem like something you should be looking at.

peter comes back clutching two mugs and hands one to you.

‘nice place!’

‘oh, thanks… yeah my Aunt isn’t home right now, she’s downtown meeting some friends, so we have the place to ourselves……’

‘so we can study uninterrupted.’ he says.

oh of course, studying!! yep that’s exactly where your mind went when peter said the apartment was empty aHaH.

peter’s room is a little less adult than the rest of his apartment, flooded with polaroids of him and Ned, with Star Wars posters on the walls.

you ignore the pang of jealousy that you feel when you spot a photo of MJ and peter grinning in front of a bowling alley.

so for the next two hours you two are in peter’s room… studying vigorously.

you would be 100% lying if you said you weren’t disappointed only studying happened.

the weird thing is???

every time you would look down at your textbook to explain something about periodic motion peter seemed to be looking at you when you looked up?

well, looking at you isn’t very weird, looking at someone while they’re talking is just basic manners. but when you looked back he would snap his eyes straight back to his own textbook, nodding and wordlessly agreeing with whatever you had just said.

maybe it’s just your imagination but the way he looked at you, it’s almost a loving, caring gaze.

oh god who are you kidding, it’s just your brain and imagination playing tricks on you.

you’re alone with peter parker in his bedroom!! these things are going to happen!

‘hey you want to take a break? we’ve been going at this for a whole hour now.’ peter says, craning his neck to take a look at the clock on the wall.

‘has it really been a whole hour?’ you lean back in your chair looking up at the ceiling.

‘yeah okay. let’s have a small break then.’

peter picks up both of your mugs and heads off to the kitchen, groaning slightly when he stretches his legs out for the first time in an hour.

*a/n: apologies in advance to those with nut allergies*

he comes back with both your mugs refilled with (water for you, gatorade for peter) and a small bag of almonds for you to snack on.

‘oh hey! almonds are my study snack of choice too!’

‘yeah, i know’ peter says carelessly, scrolling down his phone.

‘i don’t like almonds all that much, but i bought a few packs this morning on the way to school.’

hm,, wHat

‘if… you don’t like almonds why would you get them for me?’

‘because you like almonds.’

blink.

b l i n k

it takes a bit of time for peter to realise what just came out of his mouth.

‘i meAn! I’M NOT A STALKER I SWEAR. i just see you at school sometimes and you always have a small pack of these to snack on whenever you’re doing work so i thought,, you know, since we’re doing WORK, i should buy some for you… so you won’t get hungry!!!’ he’s wailing nonsensical excuses and apologies by now.

huh.

peter parker knows that you snack on almonds when you study, and bought a pack for you even though he doesn’t like them at all.

maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

you tear apart the packaging and stuff an almond in your mouth, your traitorous lips slowly threatening to curl into a huge smile.

(despite how much you fight against it, you end up with a slightly demonic looking huge smile on your face, which you attempt to hide by stuffing more almonds in your mouth)

(you now look like a chipmunk)

(but a cute one!!!!)

meanwhile peter is trying to hide the feeling of humiliation by resting his face in his hands, because he literally just exposed himself. he will not be able to take it if he looks back up at your face and you’re laughing at him for this stupid crush.

to his surprise, he does not look up to find you mocking his love for you, but instead, he finds you with a mouth full of almonds, struggling to chew and swallow them all without looking like a disgusting fool.

oh.

that’s kinda cute.

after a good five minutes of you trying to force like 10 almonds down your esophagus, you clear your throat and awkwardly blurt out a ‘thank you’

‘for the almonds! it’s cute how you bought them for me because you knew how much i like to snack on them while i study. that’s really sweet of you. i guess you really don’t hate me all that much, huh?’ the last sentence comes out teasingly, a playful smile gracing your lips, but instead of uwu-ing over your cute smile, peter’s just confused.

‘why would i hate you?’ he says, his eyebrows laced together in confusion.

‘well, i always kinda got the impression that you didn’t like me… all that much? i never really knew why. hey, why did you hate me so much before this? if i accidentally did something at the start of the year that pissed you off, i’m sorry.’

your playful smile fades a little bit as you see peter basically collapse on himself just due to sheer GRIEVANCE.

‘WHY WOULD YOU THINK I HATED YOU?’ peter yells out, probably annoying the neighbours with how fucking loud he is, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care right now.

‘you… didn’t?’ you say, now becoming just as confused as peter.

he shakes his head aggressively, bringing his fingers up to his temples.

‘but… you always seemed so jumpy around me! and you would never really talk to me, and that one time i asked you for a pencil, you looked like you were dying or something! i always just thought you didn’t like me!’

god

peter doesn’t know whether he should be laughing or crying.

‘that’s not because I HATED YOU!! that’s because- i mean- i always thought-’ he’s still yelling and at this point one of the neighbours are definitely going to come knocking to complain, but peter still doesn’t care, because he’s currently having an existential crisis.

ohmygod all this time my CRUSH thought I HATED HER because I couldn’t function like a normal human being in front of her because of how much I liked her until i gave her some ALMONDS what is wrong with me? what kind of entity that controls the universe could hate me so much to pull THIS kind of sick prank on me?

‘wait if you didn’t hate me why would you always act so weird in front of me?’

‘BECAUSE-’ peter tangles his fingers into his hair, and he kicks his chair, sending it halfway across his room from frustration.

‘how could you possibly think I hated you??? how could you possibly think ANYONE could hate you??? you’re single handedly the only good person in this godforsaken school full of IDIOTS and BULLIES! nobody could ever hate you, y/n, and certainly not ME!’

perhaps he is using an excessive amount of hand gestures, but it gets his point across.

‘wha-? what do yo-?’

‘wHat are you TALKING ABOUT?’ you say, slowly turning just as frustrated as peter.

‘if there’s ANYONE that’s decent in this ‘godforsaken school full of idiots’ it would be YOU, peter parker!! nobody would just pay attention to what I EAT so I wouldn’t get HUNGRY during a study session oKaY!! you’re so CONFUSING! every time I accept the fact that you don’t like me back you pull this bullshit, essentially making me rethink ALL MY FEELINGS!’ you say, going through the room (stepping over the toppled chair), just to jab a finger onto peter’s chest.

suddenly both of you are aware of your flushed cheeks and your close proximity.

‘wha- WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?’ peter basically shrieks, and you would not be surprised if all of New York managed to hear that scream.

your cheeks darken as you awkwardly step back from him, realising that you accidentally outed yourself.

‘um- i mean,’ you stumble on the fallen chair as you desperately walk backwards with your hands behind your back to avoid peter’s piercing gaze.

*you’re not good at confrontation okay*

‘you like me?? wait wait, you like ME?’ you frown a little as you look at peter’s incredulous expression.

‘well yeah, you don’t have to rub it in like that, I know you don’t like me back.’ You mumble, looking away.

‘don’t like yo- OH MY GOD!’

this time peter stalks all the way across the room, looking you dead straight in the eye.

‘you better not be joking with me, y/n.’

you squeak out a small ‘no’ or something like that because you can’t really focus with peter looking down at you like that.

‘you mean to tell me, my stupid fat, nervous crush on you was mistaken for HATRED, and all this time I’ve been thinking I have no chance with you, but you’ve been crushing on me too all this time?’ his words come out jumbled, and a little fast, but you can decipher the general meaning.

peter parker likes you… too.

oh GOD WAT

he clears his throat, biting his lip and you can just tell he’s about to apologise, because peter’s a complete angel who probably doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable.

‘um- uh, y- oomph!’

and in this shocking turn of events, you execute the only spontaneous thing you’ve ever done in your life and pray that it ends up well.

you lean forward and press your lips to peter’s, hoping to whatever superior being there is that this was a good decision.

spoiler alert: it was

peter.exe has shut down because all of a sudden your lips are against his and oh wow this is so much better than all those times he’s imagined it happening because it’s actually happening now.

your hands find their way to peter’s curls that he was trying so hard to get under control an hour ago but now he can’t remember why he doesn’t like his hair if it’s just going to be tugged on by you like this from now on.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to him, pretty much pressing his body against yours.

not that you’re complaining.

and god if peter died from suffocation right now that would be a heavenly way to go, and he would be a-ok with dying if it meant finally being in your arms.

you pull away from peter, both of you slightly panting before you burst out in giggles, resting your head and letting it fall on peter’s shoulder.

‘oh my god, we’re such idiots, aren’t we?’

peter hums in agreement before lifting your chin up to kiss you again.

bonus: boyfriend! peter

definitely still stares at you in science class except now whenever you catch him staring he just shoots you a lazy grin

because yEa he has FULL RIGHTS to stare at you now because you’re his GIRLFRIEND.

you find out he’s spiderman pretty much immediately let’s be real this boy is not the best at hiding secrets

especially from his GIRLFRIENDS whomst he loves VERY MUCH.

this boy also gives you anxiety attacks whenever you see spiderman on the news saving people, getting hurt and shit, but he understands.

sends you a text before and after he gets in the suit whenever he can.

most certainly uses his spidey-powers for things they were not intended to be used for.

to visit his girlfriend so she can give him cuddles at any time why what were you guys thinking about hMmmMMMmmmM?

likes to show you off but also gets very blushy and shy about PDA

pretty much had a seizure the first time you held hands.

ned almost fainted when he heard the news (aka peter rushed to call him the second you left that night you kissed because these bitches are very gossipy)

peter parker is the ultimate clingy boyfriend.

……

and you love it.

your science teacher no longer puts you in the same group or partners you guys up now though.

because now you can’t study together, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other.

sometimes when peter is feeling ~particularly clingy he just nuzzles into the crook of your neck during lunch, and pulls you to him so you’re pretty much on his lap.

and MJ is just like yall r disgusTING

right in front of my salad.

in conclusion, peter parker loves you and you love him.

it’s honestly kind of sickening,

but you love that too.

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