#also he added two new classes for fall
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ningningkittie · 6 months ago
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our new giudance conselor is actually so nice and actually helpful i liked talking to him a lot ^-^
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corkinavoid · 3 months ago
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DPxDC "Pick Me Up"
The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.
Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.
Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.
That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:
"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."
Joker sputters.
"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"
The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.
"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."
Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.
"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.
"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."
"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.
But none of them get to finish.
"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.
The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.
And that's not a guy.
The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.
Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.
Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, and?"
"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.
"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.
"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:
"I remember!"
Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"
The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."
Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.
"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.
"I hate you."
"Thanks," Danny grins.
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won4kiss · 23 days ago
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────UH OH, I’M FALLING IN LOVE.
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𝓢YPNOSiS. you and heeseung have been rivals for as long as you could remember, constantly competing for the top spot in school—basically everything. living next door to each other only added to the fire, the tension between you, especially when heeseung’s cocky aura never seems to waver. but one single encounter shifts the entire dynamic, leading to confusing emotions arising, jealousy, and new surprising revelations. what happens when rivalry starts to feel like it’s growing into something more?
୨୧ 𝓟AiRING. academic rival! lee heeseung x fem! reader, e2l, platonic jake sim! x reader.
୨୧ 𝓖ENRE. frenemies to enemies to lovers trope, neighbours trope, slowburnish, she fell first, he fell harder, angst but vv happy & fluffy ending!! non!idol au.
୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, mean girl harassing yn, slight miscommunications, overthinking, heeseungs’ unfortunately vv dumb T-T, kissing, jealousy, insecurities, not proofread so expect spelling errors :3!!
୨୧ WORD COUNT. 10,283 | 10.2K
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𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ labyrinth, taylor swift, let the light in, lana del rey, white mustang, lana del rey, i love you, i’m sorry, gracie abrams, nobody gets me, sza, fishtail, lana del rey, bel air, lana del rey, intro (end of the world), ariana grande, daydreamin’, ariana grande.
NOTE. after three days it’s finally complete:3 this is my first 10k+ work and i’m really proud of it!! feedback is always appreciated<3 ig this is another (late) birthday post for heeseung bc ilhsm!! ㅠㅠ
LiBRARY | © won4kiss all rights reserved
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YOU HAVE ALWAYS HATED LEE HEESEUNG IN ALL YOUR YEARS OF LIVING.
or at least, that’s what you told yourself after your crush on him in freshman year, long before he decided he didn’t wanna be friends anymore—everyday as you stared at the back of his head in class, as you watched him stride confidently down the halls, or caught a glimpse of him outside your window, you knew you hated him.
it wasn’t hatred in the traditional sense, but rather an intense, gnawing resentment that had grown over the years.
he was your biggest rival—had been since childhood.
every achievement, every reward you earned, was always tainted by the fact that heeseung was right there, just a step ahead or a breath behind, competing with you for the same crown.
for as long as you could remember, it had been you and heeseung battling for the title of “number 1” in everything.
academics, sports, student council—if there was something to win, one of you would, and the other would be left second place, seething with anger.
you both knew it, and so did the rest of the school—the rivalry between the two of you was practically legendary.
and it didn’t help that you were neighbors.
from your bedroom window, you had a perfect view into heeseung’s room.
the distance between the two houses was just a few meters, and if you opened your windows at the same time, you could practically hear each other breathing.
there were nights when you could see the dim glow of his desk lamp as he studied late into the evening—no doubt working just as hard as you were, trying to maintain his title over you.
heeseung was infuriating, cocky, arrogant, and—worst of all—talented.
it wasn’t enough that he was smart—he was also athletic, charismatic, and effortlessly incredibly popular.
he’d never let you forget it, either, there wasn’t a day that passed without him throwing a smug comment your way about how he’d beat you in the last exam or how he scored higher in a math test by a single point.
“you almost had me that time,” he’d say with a smirk, as if being second place wasn’t a knife in your chest.
so, naturally, you’d responded in a way anyone else would, throwing curses and insults his way whenever you could.
it was a defense mechanism, a way to keep the bitter rivalry alive.
but deep down, you had to admit, there was something almost exciting about it.
heeseung pushed you to be better, to work harder—and while you loathed the look he gave you every time he won, there was something about his presence that you couldn’t quite shake off.
then, one morning, everything changed.
it was a normal tuesday, and you were getting ready for school as usual.
the sun was barely rising, casting a soft golden light into your room.
you were standing in front of your mirror, adjusting your uniform, when something caught your eye from the window—more specifically, someone.
heeseung.
at first, you didn’t think much of it—after all, his window was right across from yours, and you’d seen him countless times getting ready for the day.
but then you realized—he wasn’t just standing there, he was shirtless.
your heart skipped a beat—you froze, eyes wide, as you took in the sight of him.
his hair was still messy from his slumber, and his skin was glowing softly in the glow of the morning light.
you’d never really thought about heeseung in any way other than as your obnoxious rival, but seeing him like this—bare and vulnerable—you couldn’t deny that it did something to you.
you tried to tear your eyes away, but for some reason, you couldn’t.
you felt your cheeks grow hot as you stood there, practically staring at him.
and that’s when he turned his head.
he caught you.
heeseung’s eyes flickered toward your window, and for a split second, you thought maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t notice.
but then his lips curled into that familiar smirk, the one that always made you want to punch him, and he raised an eyebrow.
slowly, he stepped closer to the window, clearly amused by the fact that you’d been caught staring.
your heart hammered in your chest, this was the most mortifying moment of your life.
before you could react, heeseung opened his window, pushing it up with a soft creak.
his smirk widened as he leaned against the windowsill, his bare chest still on full display.
and then, he did something you didn’t expect—he motioned for you to open your window.
for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
every fiber of your being screamed at you to ignore him, to pretend this never happened.
but there was something about the way he was looking at you—something playful, something almost… flirty? it sent your brain into a whirlwind of confusion.
with shaky hands, you hesitated, then slowly cracked open your window, just enough to hear him.
“what? did you enjoy the view?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
your face flushed even hotter—this was not happening. lee heeseung was flirting with you?
he had never flirted with you before—he was usually busy insulting you or trying to one-up you.
but now? now he was standing there, shirtless, with that stupid grin on his face, teasing you like this was some kind of game.
“i—what are you even talking about?” you stammered, trying desperately to regain some sense of control. “i wasn’t staring, freak!”
heeseung chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.
“sure, you weren’t. it’s okay to admit it, you know? i get it. i am pretty hard to resist.”
you gaped at him, utterly speechles, was this really happening? was he seriously being… flirty?
your brain couldn’t handle it—without thinking, you slammed your window shut, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.
your heart was racing as you quickly yanked the blinds down, cutting off any possibility of him seeing your red, embarrassed face.
you leaned back against the wall, your hand pressed to your chest as you tried to calm down.
what the hell just happened? was this some new tactic of his to throw you off your game? to mess with your head right before exams?
or… was it something else entirely?
for the first time in years, you found yourself truly confused about lee heeseung, and that terrified you.
you tried to push the incident out of your mind, but it clung to your thoughts like a stubborn stain you couldn’t scrub away.
that strange encounter with heeseung left you feeling unsettled, his cocky grin and the way his eyes lingered on you making you feel things you didn’t want to acknowledge.
flirting. it was definitely flirting. but why? what was his angle?
in the days that followed, things got even weirder.
heeseung, your sworn academic rival, the bane of your existence, had suddenly… softened.
the mean remarks, the casual taunts—gone.
instead, he’d been acting almost… considerate?
you noticed it first when you were walking into class one morning, arms full with textbooks and a coffee in hand.
normally, heeseung would be the first to slip in front of you and let the door slam shut in your face—just to get under your skin, of course.
but that morning, he held the door open for you, his eyes meeting yours briefly as he gave you a small nod.
“thanks,” you mumbled, confused but too caught off guard to say anything more.
he didn’t say anything either—no smug response, no condescending smile.
he just let you walk through the door and quietly followed you inside. the whole thing was… unnerving.
then, during class, he didn’t try to one-up you during discussions, didn’t toss his usual gloating looks your way when he answered a question right before you could.
he was just sitting there, minding his own business.
you couldn’t understand it. this wasn’t the heeseung you knew—the heeseung you’d spent years battling, exchanging insults, and outdoing each other.
this version of him, quiet and strangely kind, threw you off balance, and it only got worse.
in the hallways, heeseung started greeting.
not with his usual sarcasm, but with a simple, “hey.” sometimes, he’d even smile at you—an actual smile, not that infuriating smirk he usually wore.
you didn’t know what to do with it. your brain felt like it was short-circuiting every time he looked at you, like you couldn’t reconcile this new heeseung with the one who had spent years making your blood boil.
it wasn’t just you who noticed the change, either—your friends started giving you weird looks every time heeseung passed by without some snarky comment.
one day, your friend mina leaned over during lunch and whispered, “what’s up with heeseung? he’s been acting like… different lately.”
“i don’t know,” you muttered, stabbing at your food with more force than necessary. “maybe he’s finally grown up.” mina raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
“or maybe he’s just tired of pretending to hate you.”
you nearly choked on your drink. “what?”
“come on,” mina said, smirking. “it’s obvious. heeseung���s been obsessed with you for years. he’s probably just finally figured out that he actually likes you.”
you scoffed, shaking your head. “that’s ridiculous. heeseung hates me. we’ve been rivals since we were kids.”
mina shrugged. “rivals, sure. but that doesn’t mean he hates you. sometimes people use rivalry as an excuse to get close to someone.”
you didn’t want to believe it. you couldn’t believe it. heeseung liking you? it made no sense.
he was obnoxious, arrogant, and had made your life hell for years.
there was no way he suddenly had feelings for you. no. it was all some game—some twisted strategy to throw you off your game. right?
but then there was that nagging feeling deep inside, the one you didn’t want to acknowledge— the same ones you felt not too many years ago.
the one that kept reminding you of how your heart had skipped a beat when you saw him shirtless through the window.
how your pulse quickened every time he smiled at you now, even if you hated to admit it.
the realization was creeping in slowly, like a slow, dread filled idea building in your chest.
the truth was, heeseung had always been more than just your rival. he’d always been the one person who could get under your skin in ways no one else could.
and maybe, there was something there—something that went beyond the rivalry.
but before you could make sense of it, everything had changed again.
a few days later, you noticed a new face in school.
she was striking—tall, with long, dark hair and a bright smile that seemed to light up the room.
she moved through the hallways with an air of confidence, making friends effortlessly.
within days, it felt like everyone knew her name—you quickly learned her name too: haerin.
at first, you didn’t pay much attention to her.
she was new, sure, but you had more important things to worry about—like the upcoming exams.
but then you noticed something that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t explain.
heeseung was spending time with her—a lot of time.
you saw them together between classes, walking side by side, talking and laughing.
heeseung, who had been oddly nice to you lately, now seemed to be focusing all his attention on this new girl.
it was subtle at first—just casual conversations, a friendly smile here and there—but soon, you started seeing them together all the time.
and it wasn’t just their proximity that bothered you. it was the way they were so… touchy.
heeseung would lean in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm casually as he laughed at something she said.
she’d playfully nudge him back, her eyes sparkling.
it was the kind of easy, natural closeness that made you feel sick to your stomach.
jealousy was a foreign emotion for you—especially when it came to lee heeseung.
you’d never thought you’d care about who he spent time with—but seeing him with haerin, seeing how comfortable they were together, made something ugly and bitter rise in your chest.
you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being replaced.
that whatever strange connection you and heeseung had been developing was being overshadowed by this new girl.
as much as you tried to ignore it, the jealousy gnawed at you.
you couldn’t help but compare yourself to haerin—she was charming, effortlessly likable.
she fit in with heeseung’s world in a way that you never could.
you were his rival, his equal in competition, but haerin? she was someone who made him smile without the sharp edges.
you hated it. hated how it made you feel. hated how you started to question if heeseung had ever really changed at all, or if he had just been playing some long game with you.
days passed, and heeseung’s attention on haerin only seemed to grow.
they were inseparable now, and every time you saw them together, your heart clenched painfully.
the worst part was, heeseung barely even looked at you anymore.
he had stopped greeting you in the hallways, stopped holding the door for you, stopped leaving those lingering glances that had started to make your stomach flip.
it felt like you were disappearing from his world.
but maybe that was for the best, you thought—maybe heeseung was never meant to be anything more than your rival.
and maybe you were just fooling yourself into thinking there could be something more.
you had always prided yourself on your confidence.
in all the years you spent locked in competition with heeseung, you’d never doubted your abilities.
sure, he was good—annoyingly good—but so were you.
you matched him step for step, beat him sometimes, and when you didn’t, you got back up, ready to fight again.
but now, something was shifting, and it had nothing to do with grades or exams.
it had everything to do with haerin.
insecurity was new for you, but it was impossible to ignore, everywhere you looked, she was there—laughing with heeseung, brushing against him like they’d known each other for years, not just a couple of weeks.
they were so casual with each other, so comfortable.
you told yourself it didn’t matter, that heeseung’s friendships didn’t affect you.
but it did. it was starting to eat away at you, piece by piece.
what was worse was that you found yourself wondering why it wasn’t you.
why had heeseung been so kind to you one minute and then completely shifted his attention to someone else?
had all those smiles, those lingering glances, meant nothing? maybe you’d misread everything.
maybe it had never been anything more than a temporary truce in your endless battle.
but no matter how much you tried to brush it off, the truth was impossible to deny—you were jealous.
you hated that it felt like haerin was taking your place in heeseung’s life.
you hated the way she made him laugh so easily—and most of all, you hated how small and insignificant it made you feel.
and then came the final straw.
it was a friday afternoon, the cafeteria bustling with noise as students crowded around tables for lunch.
you were sitting with your usual group, mina chatting about some drama she’d seen on tv, but your attention was elsewhere—locked on the sight of heeseung and haerin across the room.
they were sitting together, as usual—haerin was leaning in close, whispering something that made heeseung throw his head back in laughter.
your chest tightened at the sight—you tried to look away, to focus on mina’s story, but it was impossible.
that green, bitter feeling of jealousy twisted in your stomach, making you feel sick.
“are you even listening?” mina’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you blinked, turning back to her.
“yeah, sorry,” you muttered, forcing a smile. “just… tired, i guess.”
mina raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but before she could say anything, someone approached your table.
it was haerin.
you looked up, startled to see her standing there with a carton of milk in hand, a sweet smile on her face.
but there was something about her expression that felt… off.
her eyes gleamed with a certain smugness that sent warning bells ringing in your mind.
“oops—” haerin’s voice was sickeningly sweet as she ‘accidentally’ tipped the milk carton over, sending the liquid spilling across the table and right into your lap.
your entire body stiffened as the cold milk soaked through your clothes, shock momentarily paralyzing you.
the cafeteria seemed to go quiet around you as everyone turned to look at the scene unfolding.
haerin’s smile didn’t waver for a second.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, though there wasn’t a trace of sincerity in her voice. “that was totally an accident!”
you could feel your pulse pounding in your ears as your mind raced to process what had just happened.
the milk was cold, seeping into your uniform, but that was the least of your concerns.
you knew it wasn’t an accident. haerin had done it on purpose, and judging by the look in her eyes, she wanted to humiliate you in front of everyone.
for a second, you felt frozen—the room was watching, the sound of whispers starting to make its way through the crowd as they waited to see what you would do.
“it wasn’t an accident,” you said, your voice sharp and louder than you intended.
you stood up abruptly, glaring at haerin. “you did that on purpose.”
haerin’s smile didn’t falter—she tilted her head, feigning innocence as she blinked at you.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about. it was just an accident, really. no need to get so upset.”
the fake sweetness in her voice set your teeth on edge.
anger bubbled up in your chest, mixing with the hurt and insecurity you’d been bottling up for days.
“that’s a lie,” you snapped. “you’ve been trying to mess with me since you got here.”
the whispers around you grew louder as people leaned in, watching the confrontation unfold.
haerin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but before you could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
“hey, what’s going on here?”
you turned to see heeseung standing a few steps away, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked between you and haerin.
for a moment, relief washed over you. heeseung had seen everything, right? he’d understand what was happening, and for once, he’d take your side.
but then haerin turned her wide, innocent eyes on him, her lower lip jutting out in a perfect pout.
“i accidentally spilled milk on her,” she said, her voice soft. “but she thinks i did it on purpose. i don’t know why she’s so mad…”
you watched in disbelief as heeseung’s expression softened.
he glanced at you, but there was no anger in his eyes—only frustration.
“come on,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “it was an accident. don’t make a big deal out of it.”
your heart sank.
you couldn’t believe what you were hearing—heeseung was taking her side? after everything you’d been through, after all the strange kindness he’d shown you in the past few days, he was choosing to believe her over you?
“that’s not what happened!” you shouted, your voice breaking with frustration. “she did it on purpose! you saw—”
“just drop it,” heeseung said, cutting you off—his tone was tired, as if this whole situation was just an inconvenience to him.
“you’re seriously overreacting.”
the words hit you like a punch to the gut. overreacting? he was dismissing you—again.
something in you snapped—without another word, you turned on your heel and bolted from the cafeteria, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed.
the humiliation, the betrayal—it was too much to bear.
you found yourself in the empty janitor’s room, the quiet darkness swallowing you whole.
you slid down the wall, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.
everything hurt—your pride, your heart, and the foolish hope you’d had that heeseung might actually care about you.
the cold, dim room was silent, except for your quiet sobs.
you tried to keep them in, biting your lip, but the tears just kept coming.
your hands trembled as they gripped your knees, pulling yourself into a ball on the floor of the empty janitor’s room.
it was the only place you could think to hide, the only place where no one would find you in this humiliating state.
you couldn’t believe how things had turned out—everything was a mess.
not just the milk soaking into your uniform, but the betrayal from heeseung, the stupid jealousy you felt toward haerin, and the way the entire cafeteria had seen you break down.
your head spun with anger and sadness, and no matter how hard you tried to calm yourself, the tears kept flowing.
then, there was a soft knock on the door.
you stiffened, wiping your face furiously with the back of your sleeve.
whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you like this.
but before you could pull yourself together, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.
“hey… are you okay?”
jake sim?
you blinked up at him, confused, you hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for you, least of all jake—heeseung’s rival on the basketball court and someone you’d barely spoken to outside of class.
he closed the door behind him, giving you a soft, understanding smile as he crouched down in front of you.
you sniffed, quickly wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still shaky. jake shrugged, sitting down beside you on the cold floor.
“i saw what happened in the cafeteria. i figured you might want to be alone, but… i also thought you could use some company.”
you looked away, embarrassed that he’d witnessed everything—the last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this, but at the same time, the quiet sympathy in his voice was oddly comforting.
“i don’t need company,” you muttered, but the words lacked conviction.
jake chuckled softly. “maybe not, but i’m staying anyway.” for a few moments, neither of you said anything.
jake sat beside you in silence, giving you space to collect your thoughts—it was strange how easy it felt to be around him.
even though you’d never been particularly close, his presence wasn’t overwhelming or intrusive. it was just… there, solid and dependable.
finally, you sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “it was her,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“haerin. she did it on purpose.”
jake nodded. “i figured. she’s been hanging around heeseung a lot lately. guess she thought picking a fight with you would get her more attention.”
you clenched your fists, feeling the anger bubble up again. “and heeseung… he just believed her. he didn’t even listen to me. he just… told me to drop it, like it didn’t matter.”
jake was silent for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“yeah, that wasn’t cool of him. i don’t know what’s going on with heeseung, but what he did today was wrong. you deserved better than that.”
the simple validation of your feelings made something inside you crack open.
you hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that—how much you needed someone to understand what you were going through.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
jake smiled at you, the kind of smile that felt genuine and warm. “anytime.”
for a while, you sat there in silence, letting the tension of the day slowly nib away in jake’s quiet company.
it was strange—this was the first real conversation you’d ever had with him, but somehow, it felt like you’d known him for longer.
there was no awkwardness, no pressure to fill the silence with unnecessary words. he was just… there.
after a while, you finally spoke again. “why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
jake chuckled softly. “is it that surprising?”
“a little,” you admitted. “i mean, we’ve never really talked before.”
he nodded thoughtfully. “true, but i’ve seen you around. we’re in the same class, and you’re heeseung’s biggest rival. i guess i always admired how you handled him.”
you raised an eyebrow, surprised. “admired?”
“yeah,” he said with a smile. “heeseung can be a lot to deal with, but you never back down. you’re tough, and you’re not afraid to butt heads with him. that’s not something everyone can do.”
you blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
no one had ever put it that way before—most people saw your rivalry with heeseung as petty or competitive, but jake seemed to see something more.
something you hadn’t even realized about yourself.
“thanks,” you murmured, unsure of what else to say.
jake gave you another easy smile. “no problem. and hey, if you ever need someone to vent to, i’m here. heeseung might be my rival on the court, but that doesn’t mean i’m on his side when it comes to this.”
for the first time all day, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips.
jake’s kindness, his quiet reassurance, was exactly what you needed.
he didn’t try to fix everything or offer empty words of comfort. he just listened, and somehow, that made all the difference.
“thanks, jake,” you said softly. “i really do appreciate it.”
“anytime,” he replied with a grin, standing up and offering you a hand to help you off the floor.
you hesitated for a moment, then took it, letting him pull you to your feet.
as you both made your way out of the janitor’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like some of the weight on your chest had lifted.
jake’s unexpected kindness had done more to heal the hurt than you’d expected.
and as you walked side by side back to class, you realized that maybe, this was the beginning of a new friendship.
over the next few days, something unexpected happened—you found yourself spending more time with jake.
jake made everything feel a little easier, a little lighter, and you didn’t feel the constant pressure to put up walls around him.
at first, it was just small moments here and there, like passing each other in the hallways and exchanging knowing smiles, or sitting together during lunch when mina was busy.
with jake, there were no mind games, no intense competition, and definitely no betrayal.
the first time you laughed with him in class, you almost forgot the sting of what had happened with heeseung—almost.
it was small things at first. jake would crack a joke when you were feeling down, or lean over during study periods to ask a random question that had nothing to do with school but everything to do with making you smile.
he had this easygoing charm about him, the kind that made it impossible to stay mad or sad for long.
and, of course, heeseung noticed.
it was hard not to. you and jake had started walking to and from classes together, and every time heeseung passed by, you could feel his eyes on you.
he didn’t say anything at first, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made your skin prickle—like he was trying to figure something out, something that was just out of his reach.
one afternoon, you were sitting with jake outside, taking in the rare moment of sunshine between classes.
jake had just told a terrible joke, the kind that made you laugh even though it was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, playfully nudging his shoulder.
“really, jake? that’s the best you’ve got?” you teased, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as your laughter faded.
“hey, i don’t see you coming up with anything better,” he shot back, grinning.
his smile was infectious, and you felt a warm comfort wash over you.
it was nice, being able to relax like this—something you hadn’t realized you needed until now.
but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.
heeseung stood a few feet away, watching you and jake with a look that was hard to read.
his jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw something close to frustration flash across his face.
you immediately straightened up, the laughter dying in your throat as you met his gaze.
heeseung didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but the tension between the three of you was thick.
jake noticed too, his smile fading slightly as he glanced between you and heeseung, clearly picking up on the strange energy.
“heeseung,” jake greeted casually, though his tone was a little less cheerful than before. “you need something?”
heeseung’s eyes flickered from jake to you, and for a brief second, you saw something in them—something sharp and raw.
he shook his head, his expression unreadable. “no,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “just passing by.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say.
there was an awkwardness in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before, and you couldn’t help but feel like something unspoken was simmering beneath the surface.
but before you could figure out what it was, heeseung turned and walked away without another word, leaving you and jake in a strange, uncomfortable silence.
jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “heeseung sure knows how to kill a vibe, huh?”
you tried to laugh, but it came out weak and forced. “yeah…”
but your mind was already elsewhere—on the look in heeseung’s eyes, the way his shoulders had tensed when he saw you and jake laughing together.
heeseung had never been one to back down from anything, but now it seemed like he was avoiding you.
and it didn’t make sense—one minute, he was pushing your buttons, flirting with you through the window, and the next, he was… distant. cold.
you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you two, and you didn’t know how to fix it.
worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted to.
that night, as you sat at your desk pretending to study, you caught a flicker of movement outside your window.
your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you glanced over to see heeseung’s figure illuminated in the soft glow of his desk lamp.
your eyes locked for a moment.
then, heeseung did something that took you completely by surprise.
he reached down, grabbed something from the floor, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed a small rock at your window.
it hit with a soft tap, not loud enough to startle you, but enough to catch your attention.
you hesitated, unsure of what he wanted.
heeseung hadn’t thrown rocks at your window since you were kids, back when your rivalry was less serious and more playful— back when you could actually call lee heeseung one of your best friends.
now, the gesture felt strange—almost nostalgic in a way that made your chest tighten.
still, you couldn’t ignore him—you pushed the window up, letting in the cool evening air, and leaned out slightly, your voice low as you called over to him.
“what do you want?”
heeseung’s face was mostly in shadow, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the edge of his window as if he was holding something back.
“i need to talk to you,” he said, his voice quieter than you expected. “now.”
you frowned, your heartbeat quickening. “about what?”
“just open your window,” he muttered, his voice strained. there was something different in his tone—something vulnerable, almost desperate.
it wasn’t like the confident, cocky heeseung you knew. and that was what made you hesitate.
but after a long pause, you sighed and opened the window a little wider, waiting for whatever he had to say.
you stood at your window, the cool night air brushing against your skin, as heeseung’s figure shifted in his room across from yours.
he was still gripping the windowsill, his posture stiff and tense.
the silence between you stretched, uncomfortable and heavy, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“what do you want, heeseung?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.
the wound from the cafeteria incident was still fresh, the memory of him siding with haerin burning in your chest.
for a second, heeseung didn’t respond, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight as if he was struggling with what to say.
then, finally, he let out a long breath, and his shoulders slumped, just a little.
“why are you hanging out with jake?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “what?”
heeseung’s hand ran through his hair in frustration.
“jake. you’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately. laughing with him, spending time with him…” his voice trailed off, and when his eyes met yours again, there was a flash of something vulnerable in them—something you hadn’t seen before. “why him?”
anger flared inside you—after everything that had happened, after he had humiliated you in front of everyone, this was what he cared about? who you were spending time with?
“why does it matter?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “what, you’re allowed to spend all your time with haerin, but i can’t hang out with jake?”
heeseung winced at the mention of haerin, but he didn’t back down.
“that’s not what this is about—“
“then what is it about?” you shot back, your voice rising with frustration. “because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re just jealous.”
heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it out loud. “jealous? of jake?”
“yeah,” you said, glaring at him. “you have no right to question who i spend time with. especially after what you did.”
his brows furrowed in confusion. “what are you talking about?”
“the cafeteria, heeseung!” you practically shouted, the hurt finally spilling over.
“you took haerin’s side, you embarrassed me in front of everyone, and you didn’t even bother to hear me out! and now, you’re mad because i’ve been hanging out with jake? after you made it pretty clear you don’t care about me at all?”
the words came out harsher than you intended, but once they were out, there was no taking them back.
the raw truth of how much heeseung had hurt you was now laid bare between the two of you, hanging in the air like a thick fog.
heeseung’s expression crumpled. for a moment, he looked utterly lost, his eyes wide with regret and something close to panic.
“i—” he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from yours. “i didn’t know. i didn’t realize…”
you let out a bitter laugh, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
“of course you didn’t heeseung, you’ve been too busy with haerin to notice.”
heeseung’s face twisted with frustration. “it’s not like that with her.”
“really? because it sure seems like it.” your voice was trembling now, the emotional weight of everything threatening to crush you.
“you’re always with her. you don’t even look at me anymore. and when you did have the chance to stand up for me, you didn’t. you humiliated me, heeseung. and you didn’t care.”
the words hit him like a slap. you could see it in the way his eyes widened, how his hands balled into fists at his sides.
heeseung took a step closer to the window, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “you think i didn’t care?”
you stayed silent, your heart pounding in your chest.
heeseung’s jaw clenched, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “i’ve been an idiot. i know that now.” his eyes were locked on yours, and for the first time, you could see the depth of his regret.
“you’re right. i didn’t stand up for you, and i should have. i hurt you, and i hate that i did. but it’s because…”
he hesitated, the words catching in his throat.
“it’s because i’ve been trying so hard to ignore how i feel about you,” he finally confessed, his voice thick with anxiety.
“i’ve spent so long thinking of you as my friend—then my rival and enemy, as someone i had to beat, that i didn’t realize… i didn’t want to admit that it was more than that.”
your breath caught in your throat.
“i’ve been feeling odd—weird around you for a long time,” heeseung continued, his voice cracking slightly.
“but i didn’t know how to deal with it. i pushed you away, acted like a jerk because i was scared. and then haerin showed up, and i thought if i focused on her, maybe i could forget about you—get rid of this feeling, but i couldn’t.”
tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.
you wanted to be angry, wanted to hold on to that hurt and betrayal, but hearing heeseung’s voice crack with vulnerability made it harder.
his words, the way he looked at you, made you feel things you had been trying to deny for so long.
“but why didn’t you defend me?” you asked, your voice breaking.
heeseung’s expression crumpled. “i don’t know,” he whispered. “i was stupid. i thought if i stayed out of it, it would just go away. but it didn’t. and now i’ve ruined everything.”
you stared at him for a long moment, your heart aching with the weight of it all.
heeseung was standing there, tears welling in his own eyes, and for the first time in all the years you’d known him, he looked completely vulnerable.
“i don’t know if i can forgive you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “not right now.”
heeseung nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he swallowed hard.
“i understand,” he said softly. “but please… don’t shut me out.”
without another word, you shut your window, turning your back on him and collapsing onto your bed, emotions swirling inside you.
even though you had closed the window on him, part of you still wanted to reach out.
the next morning, you woke up feeling emotionally drained.
the conversation with heeseung played over and over in your mind like a broken record player, his voice echoing in your head, repeating those words.
“i’ve liked you for a long time.”—you had wanted to be angry, to stay angry, but now, all you felt was confusion.
did it even matter? he’d hurt you, after all.
that should’ve been enough to keep the walls you’d built between the two of you intact.
but something inside you had softened at seeing him so vulnerable, so broken.
you’d seen a side of him you weren’t sure anyone else had ever seen.
as you made your way to school, you told yourself that things would go back to normal.
you’d ignore heeseung like you always did, keep your distance, and focus on the things that mattered—your studies, your friendship with jake, anything but heeseung.
but the moment you walked into the classroom, all of that went out the window.
there, sitting on your desk, was a small carton of strawberry milk—your favorite.
you stopped in your tracks, blinking in confusion—the bright pink carton stood out against the plain wooden surface of your desk, and for a moment, you thought it had to be some kind of mistake.
but then you saw it— a folded note tucked underneath the carton.
with cautious fingers, you reached for the note and unfolded it. the handwriting was familiar, neat and precise.
“i’m sorry.”
that was it—no explanation, no signature, but you didn’t need one.
you knew exactly who it was from. your heart gave an involuntary flutter, and you quickly stuffed the note into your bag before anyone could see it.
your eyes darted to heeseung’s seat across the room.
he was already there, sitting with his head resting on his hand, staring at the window as if he hadn’t just left a peace offering on your desk.
he didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge you, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like he was waiting for you to react.
you bit your lip, unsure of what to do—you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to cling to the hurt and anger from yesterday, but this… this small gesture of apology tugged at something deep inside you.
heeseung wasn’t one to apologize easily. you knew that. he was proud, stubborn, and always had to win. but this? this was different. it wasn’t much, but it was something.
before you could figure out how to feel about it, the bell rang, and the classroom began to fill with students.
you slid into your seat, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as the day began.
over the next few days, it became a pattern.
every morning, when you arrived at school, there was something waiting for you on your desk—a carton of strawberry milk, a small packet of your favorite snacks, even a neatly folded handkerchief after gym class when you’d been sweating.
each gift came with the same simple note—“i’m sorry.”
it was starting to drive you crazy.
heeseung didn’t say a word to you during class, didn’t try to talk to you between periods, but his quiet gestures of apology were impossible to ignore.
the other students had started to notice too, whispering to each other whenever they saw the latest offering on your desk.
“what’s going on with you and heeseung?” mina asked one day at lunch, her eyebrows raised in suspicion. “he’s been acting so… weird lately.”
you shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “i don’t know. he’s just… apologizing, i guess.”
mina’s eyes widened. “apologizing? for what?”
you hesitated, unsure of how much to tell her—mina didn’t know about the confrontation in the cafeteria, didn’t know how much heeseung’s words had hurt you.
and honestly, you didn’t feel like reliving it. so instead, you just sighed. “it’s complicated.”
mina gave you a look, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer, but thankfully she didn’t push it.
instead, she glanced over at jake, who had been sitting quietly beside you, picking at his food.
“what do you think about all this?” she asked, nudging him playfully. “you and heeseung have always been rivals too, right?”
jake glanced up, his expression thoughtful “yeah, we’re rivals on the court,” he said, his voice casual. “but i don’t really care about that. if he’s apologizing, maybe he’s finally realized he messed up.”
you looked over at jake, feeling a wave of gratitude for his support.
he had been there for you when you needed someone, and now, more than ever, you appreciated his calm, steady presence.
he didn’t make a big deal out of the situation, didn’t push you to confront heeseung before you were ready. he just… understood.
jake caught your eye and smiled, and for a moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.
but of course, that peace didn’t last long.
later that afternoon, as you were walking through the hall with jake, laughing at one of his dumb jokes, you felt someone grab your wrist.
you stopped, your laughter dying on your lips as you turned to see heeseung standing there, his grip firm but not painful.
his eyes were intense, his jaw set in determination.
“come with me,” he muttered, his voice low and urgent.
you blinked, confused. “what? where—”
“just… come on.” heeseung didn’t give you a chance to argue. he tugged you along, pulling you toward the stairwell that led up to the rooftop.
jake called after you, his voice tinged with concern, but you were already too far down the hall to stop.
your heart pounded in your chest as heeseung led you up the stairs, the quiet intensity of the moment making your head spin.
when you finally reached the rooftop, he let go of your wrist and turned to face you, his expression conflicted, like he didn’t know whether to yell or beg for your forgiveness.
“what are you doing, heeseung?” you asked, your voice shaky with confusion and anger.
“i need to talk to you,” he said, his voice quiet but desperate. “about everything.”
the rooftop was quiet, other than the soft rustling of the wind and the distant chatter of the school below.
you stood there, facing heeseung, your heart pounding in your chest.
the tension between the two of you was thick, and the silence stretched on, filled with the weight of everything unsaid.
“what are we doing here?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.
you were still reeling from the suddenness of it all—one moment you’d been laughing with jake, and the next, heeseung was dragging you up here like something urgent was at stake.
heeseung ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face.
“i needed to get you away from him,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.
“from jake?” you asked in bewilderment, your anger flaring up again. “what does jake have to do with this?”
heeseung finally looked at you, his eyes dark and intense. “everything. he’s—he’s not the one you should be with.”
you stared at him, stunned. “excuse me? what gives you the right to say that?”
“i know,” heeseung said quickly, holding up his hands in a gesture that almost seemed like surrender.
“i know i don’t have the right. but i can’t stand watching you with him any longer.”
your chest tightened as his words hung in the air—you didn’t know what to say.
part of you wanted to snap back, to tell him that he had no business being jealous after what he did.
but the other part of you— the part that had been waiting for him to say something—was finally starting to understand.
heeseung’s voice softened, and he took a small step closer to you. “even if we’re enemies, even if we’ve always been rivals, i would never side with jake. i would never choose someone over you.”
you blinked, your mind racing. his words made no sense. “then why didn’t you defend me in the cafeteria?” your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but the hurt was still there, sharp and raw.
heeseung flinched at the question, his jaw tightening. “i told you— i don’t know,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper.
“it was stupid. i didn’t realize how much i was hurting you. and when i saw you with jake…”
he trailed off, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand what he was struggling to say.
“when you saw me with jake, what?” you pushed, your voice quieter now, the anger fading away into something softer.
heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours.
“when i saw you with him, i realized how much i messed up. i realized that i was losing you, and i didn’t know what to do.” he took another step closer, his eyes filled with regret.
“i’ve been trying to ignore it for so long—these feelings i have for you. but i can’t anymore.”
your breath hitched at his confession, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.
heeseung, the person you’d spent your entire life competing with, the person who had always been rude and cocky, was standing in front of you, confessing that he liked you?
“feelings?” you echoed, your voice barely audible.
heeseung nodded, his expression raw and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.
“yeah. i’ve liked you for a long time, but i didn’t know how to handle it. so i pushed you away. i made everything about our rivalry because i didn’t know what else to do.”
his words hit you like a wave, crashing over you and leaving you breathless.
you didn’t know how to process it, didn’t know how to reconcile the heeseung you’d always known with the one standing in front of you now, baring his soul.
“i hurt you,” heeseung continued, his voice trembling slightly. “and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. but i can’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. i don’t want to be your rival anymore. i don’t want to lose you.”
you stared at him, your heart pounding, your mind racing with thoughts.
this was everything you’d been trying to ignore, everything you’d pushed aside because you didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings that had been building up between you.
but now, standing here, with heeseung looking at you like he was afraid you were going to slip away, you couldn’t deny it any longer.
“i…” your voice faltered, your throat tight with emotion. “you’re an idiot.”
heeseung blinked, startled. “what?”
“you’re an idiot,” you repeated, shaking your head as a small, incredulous laugh escaped your lips.
“you spent all this time pushing me away when you could have just told me the truth earlier.”
heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, you closed the distance between you in one fast motion, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss.
for a second, heeseung froze, clearly shocked by your sudden move.
but then, he kissed you back, his hands coming up to gently cup your face.
the kiss was soft, slow at first, but it quickly deepened as all the tension between you melted away.
it was like everything you’d been holding back, all the unspoken words, all the bottled-up emotions, were finally being released in that moment.
heeseung’s lips were warm and gentle, and he kissed you like he’d been wanting to for a long time—slowly, sweetly, as if he didn’t want the moment to end.
your heart raced in your chest, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you poured all of your frustration, confusion, and affection, into the kiss.
when you finally pulled away, breathless, you stared up at him, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding.
heeseung’s eyes were wide with surprise, but there was a small, almost dazed smile tugging at his lips.
“i… i didn’t expect that,” he whispered, his voice shaky.
you smiled, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. “you’re such an idiot,” you said again, but this time, there was no bite to your words—just warmth.
heeseung let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “i am.”
without thinking, you kissed him again, softer this time, more sure of yourself.
and as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, you realized that this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
the next day at school, everything felt different. it was subtle at first—a kind of quiet shift in the air that made you hyper-aware of heeseung’s presence the moment you walked into the classroom.
you weren’t used to this—the ease, the softness that seemed to have settled between you overnight.
after years of rivalry, the shift from enemies to something more felt almost surreal.
but then you saw him—heeseung sitting at his desk, already glancing over at you the second you stepped through the door.
his usual smirk was gone, replaced by a small, almost shy smile, and it sent a warm flutter through your chest.
you smiled back, the tension from the day before melting away as he held your gaze for just a moment longer than usual.
it was like the rivalry had evaporated overnight, leaving something softer in its place. and yet, the familiarity of your banter remained.
you slid into your seat, feeling a little lighter than you had in weeks.
there was no strawberry milk waiting on your desk this time, no snacks or apology notes, but the absence didn’t bother you.
the fact that heeseung had taken the time to talk to you, to open up the way he had, was more than enough.
still, you couldn’t help but notice that people were whispering.
it wasn’t loud or obvious, but every so often, you’d catch someone glancing your way, their eyebrows raised in curiosity.
mina, of course, was the first to bring it up.
“what’s going on with you and heeseung?” she asked as soon as you sat down for lunch.
her eyes were gleaming with excitement, clearly having picked up on the shift in dynamics. “you two are acting so different!”
you shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as you could. “we talked. that’s all.”
mina narrowed her eyes. “you talked? come on, you can’t tell me something didn’t happen. you guys have been enemies for, like, forever, and suddenly you’re all… smiley. it’s weird.”
you felt your cheeks heat up, and you looked down at your tray, trying to hide the small grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “it’s complicated.”
before mina could press you further, someone else slid into the seat next to you.
you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was—jake, with his usual easygoing smile and relaxed posture, leaned back in his chair as if he owned the place.
“so, you and heeseung, huh?” jake asked, his tone teasing.
you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “not you too.”
jake chuckled, nudging you with his elbow. “hey, i’m just happy for you. i mean, after everything that happened… well, it’s nice to see you smile again.”
you peeked at him from between your fingers, grateful for his kindness.
jake had been there for you when you needed someone, and you’d grown closer over the past few weeks.
but now, things were different, and while you appreciated his friendship, you couldn’t deny the new fluttering feeling that came with thinking about heeseung.
still, you couldn’t resist teasing jake a little. “you’re not jealous, are you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
jake laughed, shaking his head. “nah, i could never compete with heeseung. that guy’s got it bad for you.”
the teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you were about to reply when someone cleared their throat behind you.
you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—the shift in the air—the quiet intensity—was unmistakable.
heeseung stood there, his gaze flickering between you and jake, his jaw clenched slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying edge of jealousy.
jake grinned up at him, completely unfazed by the tension. “just talking, man. relax.”
heeseung didn’t move, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “right. well, we’ve got plans after school, don’t we?” his tone was directed at you now, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight possessiveness in his voice.
you blinked, caught off guard. “plans?”
heeseung’s lips quirked up into a small smile, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of softness that made your heart race. “yeah. walking home together, remember?”
you tried not to smile too widely, but it was impossible to hide the way your heart fluttered at his words.
jake, ever the instigator, raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“oh, so it’s like that now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “guess i’ll have to find someone else to walk home with.”
heeseung shot him a look that was almost a glare, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “yeah, you will.”
you rolled your eyes, though a small giggle escaped your lips. “heeseung, you’re being ridiculous.”
heeseung leaned down, resting one hand on the back of your chair as he looked down at you with a grin.
“maybe,” he admitted, his voice softer now, “but i don’t like sharing.”
the possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, but instead of feeling annoyed, you found it… oddly endearing.
you nudged him lightly. “you’re such a child.”
heeseung chuckled, the sound low and warm, before he straightened up, glancing once more at jake. “you’ll be fine without her, right?”
jake waved him off, laughing. “i’ll survive, don’t worry.”
just as you were about to stand up and leave with heeseung, a voice interrupted the playful atmosphere, slicing through the lightheartedness like a cold breeze.
“heeseung.”
you looked up to see haerin standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her eyes that made your stomach twist.
she glanced between you and heeseung, her lips pressed into a thin line before she focused on him. “can we talk? alone.”
heeseung’s body tensed beside you, but instead of acknowledging her request, he tightened his grip on the back of your chair, his attention still fixed on you.
“no, i’m good,” heeseung said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
haerin blinked, clearly not expecting the rejection. “i just wanted to—”
“i’m with someone right now,” heeseung cut her off, his voice firm but calm. “and i’d appreciate it if you left us alone.”
the sting of his words was evident in haerin’s eyes, but she didn’t argue.
after a moment, she let out a quiet scoff and walked away, her shoulders tense as she disappeared into the crowd.
you stared at heeseung, surprised by how easily he had brushed her off.
heeseung, who had spent so much time with her recently, was now acting like she didn’t even exist.
“was that necessary?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
heeseung shrugged, his expression softening as he looked at you. “what can i say? i’m done with all the games.”
you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but smile.
the possessiveness, the way heeseung had stood by your side without hesitation—it all made you realize just how much had changed between you two.
as the day went on, the whispers and curious glances from your classmates only grew louder.
everyone seemed to be talking about you and heeseung, but you didn’t mind.
in fact, you kind of liked it. for once, the focus wasn’t on your rivalry—it was on something else, something sweeter.
at the end of the day, as promised, heeseung was waiting for you by the school gates.
you spotted him leaning casually against the fence, his hands stuffed in his pockets, but the moment he saw you, his face lit up with that soft smile that made your heart race.
“ready to go?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you started walking together.
you nodded, glancing up at him. “you know everyone’s talking about us, right?”
heeseung chuckled, shrugging. “let them talk.”
you rolled your eyes, but there was a lightness to your steps as you walked side by side.
it felt easy, natural—like this was how things were always supposed to be.
and for the first time in a long time, the space between you and heeseung wasn’t filled with tension or competition.
it was filled with something warmer, something that made your heart feel full.
as you walked, you noticed heeseung’s hand brush against yours, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and intertwined your fingers with his.
heeseung glanced down at your hands, a look of surprise crossing his face before his smile widened, his grip tightening around yours.
neither of you said anything for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence and the feeling of walking together.
but eventually, you cleared your throat, glancing up at him with a teasing smile.
“so… are we, like, official now?”
heeseung slowed his pace, looking down at you with an amused grin. “official?”
“you know what i mean,” you said, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “boyfriend and girlfriend.”
heeseung’s expression softened at your words, and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully.
he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.
“yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “i want us to be official. if you do, too.”
your heart swelled at the tenderness in his eyes, and you felt a soft smile spread across your lips. “i do.”
heeseung’s eyes sparkled with something like relief and joy, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
it was slow, gentle, and filled with all the unspoken promises of this new chapter you were beginning together.
when he pulled back, you were both smiling, a quiet warmth settling between you.
“good,” heeseung murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “because i’m not letting you go.”
you laughed softly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. “i’m not going anywhere.”
with that, the two of you continued walking home, hand in hand, your steps perfectly in sync.
and as the sun shimmered down lower in the sky, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful—something that had been building for far longer than either of you had realized.
heeseung was no longer just your rival—he was your boyfriend.
and honestly? it felt perfect.
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© won4kiss 2024
❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌
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jello-chennie · 1 year ago
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✧ Izuku, as quiet, bashful, and nerdy as he is, is a total closet perv.
✧ genre/tw smut ⚠︎
✧ w/c 569
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When the almost unbelievably pretty foreign transfer student makes an entrance on her first day in 1A, Izuku’s stomach was set afire by the downy wings of butterflies running amok inside him.  But when you turn around to write your name on the board at Aizawa’s behest, Izuku can’t help himself when his eyes start to wonder across the shape of you—when you turn back around, Midoriya is almost hypnotised by your pretty eyes and charmingly kind smile, and those butterflies quickly turn into extra blood that sit heavy in his balls. 
Midoriya isn’t able to get up to join his friends at the lunch table that day.
He thought he already had it bad before, but discovered new parts of himself after your arrival.  
Izuku who desperately tries to eavesdrop on conversations you have with the many people who hurry to try to introduce themselves to you, totally not in an effort to overhear you giving out your instagram handle.  And Izuku definitely didn’t blow through an entire box of tissues in the one night alone.  And of course he wasn’t dying of shame while having a conversation with his mother on the phone about the sudden wave of bulk pack tissue box purchases on their Amazon account.  It’s totally just a cold he caught.
He almost feels a little pathetic at the fact that there are only sweet and appropriate photos on your social media pages, but that’s more than enough for him—for a short while.  The more time he spent around you in class, the more he craved you.  He eventually found himself on some very specific porn sites in an effort to find an actress that even remotely resembled you.  That seemed to make the issue worse, as he then started to have some very vivid dreams of you with little left to the imagination, thanks to his helpful visual aids.
He tells his friends that he’s just been adding in extra workouts in the morning when they ask why he does his laundry so frequently these days.
And when the two of you become partners for a training course one day, Midoriya is enthralled by your personality and your quirk.  He immediately starts analysing it all, but quickly needs to run to the onsite restroom when he starts trying to estimate the size of your tits. In the small port-a-potty, he imagines himself taking the measurements with his palms.  Once he finishes and takes a moment to breathe, he cringes as he thinks in retrospect of himself from a few moments earlier:  Izuku had one hand held in the air, palming around nothing, as he fucked into the other one. This time he really thinks himself pathetic.
When you become closer as friends, beginning to spend time casually together in each other’s bedrooms, he smiles innocently in your face, while a stolen pair of panties sit snug in his pocket.  He also pretends to be deeply invested in his economics textbook when he overhears you complaining about constantly needing to go underwear shopping a few months later.
Eventually, you fall for his boyish charms, and the two of you begin to spend time together as a couple.  And in the most unsmooth way possible, he acts shocked and pretends to know nothing when you find a familiar long lost pair of pink panties hidden amongst his things.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago
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It's Never Too Late Masterlist
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Summary: You are an elementary school teacher who just moved to Texas for a fresh start when you meet a very handsome man from the Laredo Sheriff's Department coming to give your class a presentation.
After your co-workers pull some strings for you to meet again, you and Javier Peña find yourselves falling head over heels for each other.
Story takes place post Narcos Season 3 in Laredo, Texas, starting May 1997.
Paring: Javier Peña x OFC (Reader is an elementary school teacher whose nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+ chapters containing marked with * and each chapter will also have its own warnings), language, fluff, romantic comedy, reader has physical descriptions, Javi being so soft and getting all the love and affection he deserves, you two being the biggest weirdos so in love
Status: Ongoing
Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for new chapters as they come out! :)
Main Story:
Chapter 1: I D.A.R.E. You
Chapter 2: What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?
Chapter 3: I Wanna Be With You Everywhere*
Chapter 4: Add You To My List*
Chapter 5: You're The One That I Want*
Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!*
Chapter 7: School's Out for Summer*
Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy*
Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña*
Chapter 9: I Promise*
Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Javi*
Pt. 1*
Pt. 2*
Chapter 11: Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago *
Chapter 12: I Love You. I Know. *
Chapter 13: There's No Place Like Home*
Chapter 14: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas*
Chapter 15: She Shoots, She Scores*
Chapter 16: The Lone Star State*
Chapter 17: No Ifs, Ands, Or Butts*
Chapter 18: Hole in None*
Chapter 19: Good Luck, and Goodnight*
Chapter 20: I Do
Pt. 1*
Pt. 2*
Chapter 21: Paradise* (New 11/7!)
Spin-Off Series:
Forever and Always*: Slices of life following the Peña family after their first child
One Shots (In chronological order of the main storyline):
Movie Night*
Dirty Laundry*
Again*
You're My Home*
Not Yet*
Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña*
The Mouse and the Motorcycle
You Make Life Worth It
Take Me Home
Plaid Pajama Morning
Agent Peña*
Every Inch*
Soup for Breakfast
Whatever My Wife Wants*
Fever*
Oh, Baby
Insatiable*
Peanut Butter and Pickles
Sail Away
You Make Lovin' Fun*
Asks/Headcannons:
Javi and Osita before work
Javi's DEA Jacket
Javi's Tac Vest
Javi and Osita when they argue
Javi being distractingly cute
Javi when he's sick
Javi helping with Osita's pregnancy cravings
Osita when she's pregnant
Osita after a bad day at work
Javi coming home after work to his kids
Javi and Osita deciding how many kids they want
Javi and his daughters at the Eras Tour
Extras:
NSFW Alphabet- Javi and Osita*
1K Followers Celebration Asks and Answers
Never Too Late Playlist
Mood board
Timeline of NTL
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bratzkoo · 2 months ago
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skin | joshua
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Author: bratzkoo Pairing: university student! joshua x university student! reader Genre: angst, fluff Rating: PG-15 Word count: 7.3k Warnings/note: inspired by sabrina carpenter's skin and olivia rodrigo's driver's license. joshua hong is the loml. bit of a long read.
summary: you’re doing great with your boyfriend of 5 months but when his ex drops a podcast talking about their past relationship and indirectly mentions you, your relationship takes on challenges you don’t know if you can handle.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -​
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
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You never expected to fall in love in college, let alone with someone like Hong Joshua. As one of the most popular students at your university, you were used to attention, but Joshua was different. He saw beyond your carefully curated image, past the smiles and the social ease, right to the core of who you were.
Your relationship started slowly, tentatively. Coffee dates that turned into long walks around campus, stolen glances during lectures, and late-night study sessions that had more to do with learning each other than any subject material. You remembered the first time you really noticed him, in your shared Literature class. He was sitting two rows ahead, his dark hair slightly tousled, completely engrossed in the professor's lecture on romantic poetry.
As you watched him scribble notes furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration, you felt a strange flutter in your chest. It wasn't just that he was handsome – though he undeniably was – but there was something about the intensity of his focus, the way he seemed to lose himself in the words, that drew you in.
After class, you found yourself lingering, pretending to organize your bag as you watched him from the corner of your eye. To your surprise, he approached you, a shy smile playing on his lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than you expected. "I'm Joshua. I've seen you around campus, but I don't think we've officially met."
You introduced yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart raced as he shook your hand. His touch was warm, his grip firm but gentle.
"I was wondering," he continued, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, "if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? I could use a study partner for the upcoming exam, and you always seem to have great insights in class."
You found yourself nodding before you even fully processed his words. "I'd love to," you replied, surprised by how steady your voice sounded despite the butterflies in your stomach.
That first coffee date turned into two, then three, then countless more. You discovered that Joshua was not just handsome and smart, but also kind, funny, and surprisingly vulnerable. He told you about his dreams of becoming a singer, how he'd spend hours practicing in the shower or humming melodies under his breath.
"My parents want me to have a 'practical' career," he confided one evening, as you sat together on a bench overlooking the campus lake. "But music... it's like breathing to me. I can't imagine my life without it."
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Then don't give it up," you said softly. "You have an amazing voice, Joshua. The world deserves to hear it."
He looked at you then, his eyes shining with something that made your breath catch in your throat. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you replied, and the smile he gave you in return was brighter than any star in the sky.
Before you knew it, five months had passed, and you were head over heels. Joshua had become not just your boyfriend, but your best friend, your confidant, your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share good news with, the one you turned to when you were feeling down.
One particularly memorable evening, you and Joshua strolled across campus, your fingers intertwined. The air was crisp with the promise of autumn, and the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. You couldn't help but smile as you caught him humming softly under his breath – a habit you'd grown to adore over the past five months.
"What's that song?" you asked, nudging him playfully.
Joshua's cheeks flushed slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Oh, just something I've been working on. It's not ready yet."
You squeezed his hand encouragingly, your heart swelling with affection. "I'm sure it's beautiful. You know I love hearing you sing."
His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something deeper – a vulnerability that both thrilled and scared you. "Maybe I'll play it for you someday," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
As you approached the campus coffee shop, a group of girls whispered and giggled, their eyes fixed on Joshua. You were used to this by now – being with one of the most popular guys on campus came with its share of attention. But Joshua seemed oblivious, his focus solely on you.
Inside the coffee shop, as you waited for your orders, you noticed Joshua's gaze drift to a couple in the corner. A flicker of emotion – was it sadness? – crossed his face before he quickly looked away.
"Joshua?" you probed gently, concern creeping into your voice. "Is everything okay?"
He plastered on a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Just thinking about that assignment for Professor Kim's class."
You knew he was deflecting, but you didn't push. There was still so much about Joshua's past that remained a mystery to you. You'd learned early on that he was intensely private about certain aspects of his life, particularly his romantic history. Whenever you tried to broach the subject of past relationships, he'd change the topic or gently steer the conversation in a different direction.
You noticed that all the pictures on his social media only went back about a year, as if his life before that had been carefully erased. It was as though he was trying to start fresh, to reinvent himself. Part of you was curious, even a little worried about what he might be hiding. But another part of you trusted him implicitly, believing that if it was important, he'd tell you when he was ready.
"Don't worry about the past," he'd tell you whenever you hinted at wanting to know more, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're my present and my future."
And for a while, that was enough. The way Joshua looked at you, the way he held you, the way he seemed to anticipate your needs before you even voiced them – it all made you feel cherished, loved in a way you'd never experienced before. You told yourself that everyone had a past, and what mattered was the here and now.
But there were moments, fleeting and rare, when you'd catch a shadow pass over Joshua's face. A song on the radio would make him go quiet, or a certain scent would cause him to tense up momentarily. In those moments, you felt the weight of his unspoken history, and you couldn't help but wonder about the ghosts that still seemed to haunt him.
Despite these occasional moments of uncertainty, your relationship with Joshua continued to blossom. You fell into a comfortable rhythm, your lives intertwining in a way that felt both exciting and incredibly natural. Joshua became a fixture in your apartment, his textbooks mingling with yours on your desk, his hoodie draped over your chair.
Your friends teased you good-naturedly about how inseparable you'd become. "It's like you two are joined at the hip," your housemate Anna would say, rolling her eyes but smiling affectionately.
You couldn't deny it. Being with Joshua felt right in a way you couldn't quite explain. It was as if you'd found a piece of yourself you didn't even know was missing.
One night, as you lay tangled together on your bed, Joshua trailing lazy kisses along your collarbone, you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.
"Joshua," you whispered, your voice thick with feeling.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. "Yeah?"
"I... I love you," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You'd never said it before, had been too scared of the vulnerability it implied. But in that moment, with Joshua's arms around you and his heartbeat steady against your chest, you couldn't hold it back any longer.
For a moment, Joshua went very still, and you felt a flicker of panic. Had you said it too soon? But then his face broke into the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I love you too," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "God, Y/N, I love you so much."
He kissed you then, pouring all his feelings into it, and you felt as though your heart might burst from happiness.
It was in moments like these that you forgot about the mysteries in Joshua's past, about the sadness that sometimes lingered in his eyes. All that mattered was the love you shared, the future you were building together.
But life, as you were about to learn, had a way of bringing the past crashing into the present when you least expected it.
-
It was an ordinary Friday when your world turned upside down. You were walking across campus, hand in hand with Joshua, discussing your plans for the weekend. The air was buzzing with the usual energy of students eager for the week to end, but something felt off. You noticed people staring more than usual, whispers following in your wake.
"Is it just me," you said to Joshua, trying to keep your voice light, "or are people acting weird today?"
Joshua frowned, his eyes scanning the faces around you. "Yeah, something's definitely up. But I have no idea what."
It wasn't until you got to class that you found out. Your best friend, Ela, pulled you aside before you could take your seat, her face a mask of concern.
"Have you heard the podcast?" she asked, her voice low and urgent.
You blinked, confused. "What podcast?"
Ela bit her lip, then pulled out her phone. "It's gone viral on campus. Everyone's talking about it. I... I think you need to hear this."
As she pressed play, a soft voice filled the air. "I thought he was my forever," the voice said, tinged with sadness. "He promised me the world, promised me eternity. But I guess forever has an expiration date."
Your heart sank as you listened, a cold dread settling in your stomach. The girl on the podcast never mentioned names, but the details were too specific to be coincidence. She talked about a boy who loved to sing, who had a smile that could melt hearts, who dreamed of becoming a performer.
She talked about Joshua. Your Joshua.
"And now he has a new girlfriend," the voice continued, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "She's everything I'm not. She’s popular, I saw her pictures and she’s so beautiful and she smiles pretty, and she has a lot of friends, and I bet she can parallel park. Everything I was always insecure about."
You felt like you couldn't breathe. This was Joshua's ex, laying bare all the pain and heartbreak for the world to hear. And in doing so, she'd inadvertently put a target on your back.
"Ela," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "how many people have heard this?"
Your friend's expression was grim. "It's everywhere, Y/N. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok... people are reposting it like crazy."
You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "Does... does Joshua know?"
"I don't think so," Ela replied. "At least, not yet. But Y/N... you need to talk to him. This is going to blow up, and fast."
You nodded, feeling numb. "I will. After class. I just... I need a moment to process this."
But as you sat through the lecture, you couldn't focus on a single word the professor said. Your mind was racing, replaying every moment with Joshua, every conversation, every tender look. Had it all been a lie? Was he still in love with his ex? And why hadn't he told you about her?
As soon as class ended, you rushed out, your heart pounding. You needed to find Joshua, to hear his side of the story. But as you stepped into the hallway, you were met with a sea of stares and whispers.
"That's her," you heard someone say. "The new girlfriend."
"I can't believe she'd do that to Yunha," another voice chimed in. "They were so perfect together."
You pushed through the crowd, fighting back tears. This couldn't be happening. It felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
You found Joshua outside the music building, his face pale and drawn. When he saw you, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear.
"Y/N," he said, reaching for you. "I can explain-"
But before he could say another word, you felt your world tilt on its axis. The stress, the shock, and the emotional turmoil of the day caught up with you all at once. Your vision blurred, your legs gave out, and the last thing you heard was Joshua calling your name as darkness enveloped you.
When you woke up, you were in the campus infirmary, the harsh fluorescent lights making you squint. Joshua was by your side, holding your hand, his face etched with worry.
"Hey," he said softly as your eyes fluttered open. "How are you feeling?"
You tried to sit up, wincing at the throbbing in your head. "What happened?"
"You fainted," Joshua explained, helping you into a sitting position. "The nurse said it was probably due to stress and low blood sugar. You've been out for about an hour."
As the fog in your mind cleared, the events of the day came rushing back. The podcast, the whispers, the revelations about Joshua's past. You pulled your hand away from his, suddenly feeling like you were touching a stranger.
"Joshua," you said, your voice hoarse, "we need to talk about the podcast."
He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. "I know. Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I should have told you about Yunha, about our history. I just... I thought if I could just start fresh, leave all that in the past, it wouldn't matter anymore."
You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "But it does matter, Joshua. It matters because now the whole campus thinks I'm some kind of homewrecker. It matters because you kept this huge part of your life from me. How am I supposed to trust you after this?"
Joshua reached for your hand again, and this time you let him take it. "I know I messed up," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But Y/N, you have to believe me when I say that what I feel for you is real. More real than anything I've ever felt before."
You wanted to believe him. God knows, how you wanted to believe him. But the doubt had taken root, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everything you thought you knew about your relationship had been built on a foundation of lies.
"I need time," you said finally, pulling your hand away. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
The look of hurt on Joshua's face made your heart ache, but you knew you needed space to sort out your feelings. He nodded, standing up slowly.
"Of course," he said softly. "Take all the time you need. Just... please don't shut me out completely. When you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
As he left the infirmary, you felt a piece of your heart go with him. But you also felt a resolve hardening within you. You needed answers, and you were determined to get them – no matter how painful they might be.
The next few weeks were a nightmare. Everywhere you went, you could feel eyes on you, hear the whispers behind your back. People you thought were friends suddenly became cold and distant. Your Instagram, once filled with supportive comments and likes, became a battleground of hate and accusations.
"Home wrecker," one comment read. "How does it feel to steal someone else's happiness?"
Another was even more vicious: "You don't deserve him. Yunha and Joshua were soulmates. You're just a pretty distraction."
You tried to brush it off, to hold your head high, but each comment felt like a dagger to your heart. Even worse was the way some of your so-called friends began to distance themselves, afraid of being associated with the scandal.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," your classmate Hoshi said awkwardly one day after class. "It's just... people are talking, you know? And my girlfriend thinks maybe we shouldn't hang out so much anymore."
You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral even as you felt another piece of your world crumbling. "It's fine, Hoshi. I understand."
But you didn't understand. Not really. How could people be so quick to judge, so eager to believe the worst about you without even knowing the full story?
You threw yourself into your studies, spending long hours in the library, trying to drown out the whispers and stares with the comforting rustle of pages and the scratch of your pen. But even in the quiet sanctuary of the stacks, you couldn't escape the weight of judgment that seemed to follow you everywhere.
One evening, as you were poring over your textbooks, you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, you saw Anna, your roommate, hovering uncertainly.
"Hey," she said softly, sliding into the chair across from you. "I've been worried about you. You've barely been in the room lately."
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just been busy with studying."
Anna reached out, gently closing your book. "Y/N, talk to me. Please. I know things have been rough, but I'm still your friend. I want to help."
Something in her tone, the genuine concern in her eyes, made the walls you'd built up over the past weeks crumble. Before you knew it, you were sobbing quietly, your shoulders shaking as Anna moved to wrap her arms around you.
"I don't know what to do," you whispered between sobs. "Everything's such a mess. I love Joshua, I really do, but how can I trust him after this? And everyone on campus hates me for something I didn't even do."
Anna stroked your hair soothingly. "Not everyone hates you, Y/N. The people who matter know you're not the person they're making you out to be. And as for Joshua... have you talked to him since that day?"
You shook your head. "I've been avoiding him. I just... I don't know what to say."
"Maybe it's time you did," Anna suggested gently. "You can't run from this forever. And who knows? Maybe hearing his side of the story will help you make sense of things."
You knew she was right, but the thought of facing Joshua, of reopening the wounds that were just starting to scab over, made your stomach churn with anxiety.
"I'll think about it," you promised, wiping your eyes. "Thanks, Anna. For being here, for not judging me."
She squeezed your hand. "That's what friends are for. And Y/N? Remember, this will pass. It might not feel like it now, but it will. You're stronger than you think."
Her words stayed with you as you packed up your books and made your way back to your apartment. The campus was quiet, most students already settled in for the night. As you walked, you found yourself thinking about Joshua, wondering what he was doing, if he was struggling as much as you were.
Almost without realizing it, your feet had carried you to his dorm building. You stood there for a long moment, debating whether to go in or turn back. Finally, taking a deep breath, you made your decision.
The walk to Joshua's room felt both endless and far too short. Before you were ready, you found yourself standing in front of his door, your heart pounding. You raised your hand to knock, then hesitated. What if he wasn't alone? What if he didn't want to see you?
But before you could talk yourself out of it, the door swung open. Joshua stood there, looking as surprised to see you as you were to suddenly be face-to-face with him. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair messy as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly.
"Y/N," he breathed, his eyes wide. "I... what are you doing here?"
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I think... I think it's time we talked."
Joshua nodded, stepping back to let you in. His room was a mess, clothes strewn about, empty coffee cups littering his desk. It was so unlike the usually tidy Joshua that it made your heart ache.
"Sorry about the mess," he said, hurriedly clearing some books off his bed so you could sit. "I haven't been... I mean, things have been..."
"Rough?" you supplied, and he nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"Yeah. Rough."
You sat on the edge of his bed, and he took the chair at his desk, leaving a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with all the things left unsaid.
Finally, you took a deep breath. "Joshua, I need to know the truth. All of it. About Yunha, about your relationship, about why you never told me."
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained. "I know I owe you an explanation. I just... I don't know where to start."
"The beginning," you said softly. "Start at the beginning."
And so he did. He told you about meeting Yunha in high school, how they'd bonded over their shared love of music. How their relationship had started as a friendship and slowly blossomed into something more.
"She was my first love," Joshua admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I really thought we'd be together forever. We had all these plans, you know? We were going to go to the same college, pursue our dreams together."
"What changed?" you asked, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy you felt at the obvious affection in his voice when he spoke of Yunha.
Joshua's expression darkened. "Life changed. I got accepted here on a music scholarship, but Yunha... she didn't get in. We tried long-distance for a while, but it was hard. We were both changing, growing in different directions. And then..."
He trailed off, looking away. You waited, your heart pounding.
"And then?" you prompted gently.
Joshua took a shaky breath. "And then I met you. And everything changed again. I didn't mean for it to happen, Y/N. I wasn't looking to fall in love. But being with you... it felt right in a way nothing ever had before. It scared me how quickly and deeply I fell for you."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes. "So what happened with Yunha?"
"I broke up with her," Joshua said, his voice heavy with regret. "Over the phone. God, I was such a coward. I told her I couldn't do the long-distance thing anymore, that we were growing apart. But the truth is, I was already falling for you, even if I hadn't admitted it to myself yet."
The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there was still one thing you didn't understand. "Why didn't you tell me about her, Joshua? Why keep it a secret?"
He looked at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of shame and pleading. "Because I was afraid. Afraid that if you knew about Yunha, about how badly I'd hurt her, you wouldn't want to be with me. I thought if I could just start fresh, be the person I wanted to be with you, maybe I could leave all that guilt and pain behind."
You sat there, processing everything he'd said. Part of you understood his fear, his desire to start anew. But another part of you was hurt that he hadn't trusted you enough to be honest from the beginning.
"Joshua," you said finally, "I appreciate you telling me all this. But... it doesn't change the fact that you lied to me. By omission, maybe, but still. How can I trust you after this?"
He leaned forward, his eyes intense. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I should have been honest from the start. But please believe me when I say that everything between us has been real. My feelings for you, they're more real than anything I've ever felt."
You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to. But the doubt that had taken root was hard to shake.
"I need time," you said, standing up. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
Joshua nodded, his expression a mixture of hope and resignation. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Just... please don't give up on us, Y/N. I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
As you left his room, you felt a strange mixture of emotions. Relief at finally knowing the truth, pain at the realization of how much hurt your relationship had caused, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find a way through this.
But even as you tried to sort through your feelings, you knew that the hardest part was yet to come. The campus was still buzzing with gossip, and you were still at the center of it all. How could you and Joshua ever move forward when the whole world seemed determined to tear you apart?
The next day, as you walked to class, you could feel the weight of stares on you. But something had changed. Maybe it was the conversation with Joshua, or maybe it was just that you'd reached your breaking point, but suddenly, you were tired of being the victim.
You straightened your shoulders, held your head high, and met the stares head-on. You were not the villain in this story, and you were done letting others make you feel like one.
In your Literature class, you found yourself sitting next to a girl named Soo-yun, someone you'd never really talked to before. To your surprise, she turned to you with a small smile.
"Hey," she said softly. "I just wanted to say... I think it's really brave, how you're handling all of this. I can't imagine how hard it must be."
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. "I... thank you," you finally managed. "It means a lot to hear that."
Soo-yun nodded. "I know we don't really know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with at lunch so you're not alone, I'm here."
You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by this unexpected kindness. "I might take you up on that," you said, offering a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in weeks.
As the days passed, you found small pockets of support like this. Not everyone believed the rumors, and those who took the time to get to know you often found that the reality was far different from the gossip.
But even as things began to improve slightly on campus, you still struggled with your feelings for Joshua. You missed him desperately, but the hurt and betrayal still stung. You found yourself replaying your conversations, analyzing every interaction, trying to separate the truth from the lies.
One afternoon, as you sat in the campus coffee shop, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke through your reverie.
"Is this seat taken?"
You looked up to see Joshua standing there, two cups of coffee in hand, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
For a moment, you hesitated. But then you gestured to the empty chair across from you. "It's all yours."
Joshua sat down, sliding one of the coffees towards you. "I got your usual," he said softly. "I hope that's okay."
You nodded, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. "Thanks."
For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a chasm. Finally, Joshua took a deep breath.
"Y/N, I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began. "About us, about everything that's happened. And I realized something. I've been so focused on trying to escape my past, on being the person I thought you wanted me to be, that I lost sight of who I really am."
You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. "What do you mean?"
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his nervousness. "I mean that I've been trying so hard to be perfect for you that I forgot that it was my imperfections, my past, all of it, that made me who I am. And who I am is someone who loves you, completely and utterly. Not because you're perfect, but because you're you."
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay calm. "Joshua, I appreciate what you're saying, but-"
He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. "Please, let me finish. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and Yunha, and probably a lot of other people along the way. But I'm done running from my mistakes. I want to own them, learn from them, and hopefully, if you'll let me, make things right."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity. But all you saw was raw, honest emotion.
"What are you saying, Joshua?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He reached across the table, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. "I'm saying that I love you, Y/N. All of you. And I want you to know all of me. The good, the bad, the parts I'm proud of and the parts I'm not. If you'll give me another chance, I promise to be completely honest with you, always."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. Slowly, you reached out, closing the distance between your hands.
"I can't promise it'll be easy," you said softly. "There's a lot of trust to rebuild."
Joshua nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."
As you sat there, your hands intertwined, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find your way back to each other.
In the weeks that followed, you and Joshua took small, tentative steps towards rebuilding your relationship. You started with coffee dates, just like in the beginning, relearning each other and having the honest conversations you should have had from the start.
Joshua opened up about his past, sharing stories about his relationship with Yunha, his struggles with self-doubt, and his fears about the future. You, in turn, shared your own insecurities and the pain you'd experienced during the podcast fallout.
It wasn't always easy. There were moments of tension, of old hurts resurfacing. But there were also moments of laughter, of rediscovering the connection that had drawn you together in the first place.
Slowly but surely, the storm began to pass. People found new gossip to occupy themselves with, and the hateful comments began to taper off. You never heard directly from Yunha, but the original podcast was taken down, and you liked to think that maybe, just maybe, she had found her own path to healing.
A year after the podcast incident, you and Joshua sat on the roof of your dorm, watching the sunset. Your hands were intertwined, your head resting on his shoulder. The campus sprawled out below you, peaceful in the fading light.
"Do you ever regret it?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Getting involved with me, going through all of that?"
Joshua was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a love so deep it took your breath away.
"Never," he said firmly, squeezing your hand. "What we went through... it was hard, yeah. But it made us stronger. It showed me that what we have is real, that it can withstand anything."
You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I feel the same way," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've come so far, haven't we?"
Joshua smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We have. And we still have so far to go. But Y/N, I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."
You snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and loved in a way you'd never experienced before. "I like the sound of that," you murmured. "Together."
As you sat there, watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky in vibrant hues, you reflected on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The pain, the growth, the love that had weathered the storm and come out stronger on the other side.
You might not have a ring on your finger, might not have all the answers about what the future held. But you had something far more valuable – a love that had been tested by fire and emerged stronger for it. A love built on honesty, on acceptance of each other's flaws and imperfections.
The future stretched out before you, full of possibilities and challenges. But with Joshua by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever life might throw your way, one day at a time. 
As the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Joshua began to hum softly, a melody you hadn't heard before. You closed your eyes, letting the gentle tune wash over you.
"Is that a new song?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
Joshua nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I've been working on it for a while now. It's... well, it's about us. About everything we've been through."
Your heart swelled with emotion. "Can I hear it? The whole thing, I mean."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, but remember it's still a work in progress."
Clearing his throat, Joshua began to sing softly, his voice carrying on the gentle evening breeze.
As the last note faded away, you found yourself wiping tears from your eyes. The raw emotion in Joshua's voice, the honesty of the lyrics – it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Joshua," you breathed, "that was beautiful. I can't believe you wrote that for us."
He ducked his head, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I wanted to capture everything we've been through, everything we mean to each other. I know it's not perfect-"
You cut him off with a kiss, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless.
"It's perfect because it's us," you said softly. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
Joshua pulled you closer, and you settled back against him, both of you content to watch as the sky darkened and more stars appeared.
"You know," Joshua said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "a year ago, I never would have had the courage to share an unfinished song like that. I was so caught up in trying to be perfect, in hiding the messy parts of myself."
You nodded, understanding. "And now?"
He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now I know that it's okay to be a work in progress. That the people who truly love you will accept all of you, rough edges and all."
His words resonated deeply with you. Over the past year, you'd both learned so much about vulnerability, about the strength that comes from being truly seen and accepted.
"Speaking of works in progress," you said, sitting up to look at him, "have you given any more thought to what you want to do after graduation? It's coming up faster than we think."
Joshua's expression turned serious. "I have, actually. I've been thinking about it a lot lately."
You waited, giving him space to gather his thoughts.
"I want to pursue music," he said finally, his voice firm with resolve. "Not just as a hobby, but as a career. I know it won't be easy, and my parents probably won't be thrilled, but... it's what I love. It's who I am."
Pride swelled in your chest. You knew how much courage it took for Joshua to choose this path, to prioritize his passion over the safer, more conventional career his parents had always envisioned for him.
"I'm so proud of you," you said, squeezing his hand. "And I'll be right there supporting you every step of the way."
Joshua's eyes shone with gratitude. "What about you? Have you decided on grad school?"
You nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you. "I got the acceptance letter yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you."
"Y/N, that's amazing!" Joshua exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you could do it. You're going to be an incredible psychologist."
As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of rightness settle over you. This was what love was supposed to be – supporting each other's dreams, celebrating each other's successes.
"You know," you said as you pulled back, "we should probably start thinking about where we're going to live after graduation. With you pursuing music and me starting grad school, we might need to look into getting an apartment together."
The words were out before you fully realized the weight of what you were suggesting. Living together was a big step, one you hadn't really discussed before.
Joshua's eyes widened slightly, but then a slow smile spread across his face. "Are you asking me to move in with you, Y/N?"
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you held his gaze. "I guess I am. What do you think?"
He pretended to consider it for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, let me think. Waking up next to you every morning, making breakfast together, having a space that's truly ours... Yeah, I think I could get on board with that."
You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. "Is that a yes, then?"
Joshua's expression softened, becoming serious again. "It's absolutely a yes. I love you, Y/N, and nothing would make me happier than building a life with you."
As you sealed the decision with a kiss, you felt a sense of excitement for the future bubbling up inside you. You knew there would be challenges ahead – the stress of grad school, the uncertainty of Joshua's music career, the everyday trials of living together for the first time. But you also knew that together, you could handle anything life threw your way.
The next few months were a whirlwind of activity. Between finishing up your final semester, apartment hunting, and preparing for the next chapter of your lives, you and Joshua barely had a moment to breathe. But through it all, your relationship continued to grow stronger.
You found a small apartment not far from campus, cozy and full of character. The day you moved in, surrounded by boxes and the chaos of merging two lives into one space, you couldn't stop smiling. This was the beginning of something new, something uniquely yours and Joshua's.
As you unpacked, you came across a familiar box – the one where you'd stored all the mementos from your relationship. Concert tickets, dried flowers, handwritten notes. But there was something new tucked inside, something you didn't recognize.
"Joshua?" you called out, holding up a small, beautifully bound notebook. "What's this?"
He came into the room, a soft smile playing on his lips when he saw what you were holding. "Ah, I was wondering when you'd find that. It's for you – well, for us, really."
You opened the notebook, your breath catching as you realized what it was. On the first page, in Joshua's neat handwriting, were the words: "Our Story: Past, Present, and Future."
"I thought we could use it to write down our memories, our dreams for the future," Joshua explained, coming to sit beside you. "And maybe, someday, we can look back on it and see how far we've come."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you flipped through the pages. Some were already filled – recollections of your first date, the lyrics to the song Joshua had written for you, little sketches of moments you'd shared. But most of the pages were blank, waiting to be filled with the story of your life together.
"Joshua, this is..." you trailed off, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I know we've been through a lot, and there were times when I was afraid to confront the past. But now, I want to embrace all of it – the good and the bad. Because it all led us here, to this moment."
You leaned into him, feeling a profound sense of peace. "I love you," you said simply, because in that moment, those three words encompassed everything you felt.
"I love you too," Joshua replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Now, what do you say we write our first entry as official roommates?"
Laughing, you grabbed a pen and snuggled closer to Joshua. As you began to write, describing the chaos and joy of move-in day, you felt a sense of excitement for all the blank pages ahead – pages waiting to be filled with your shared story.
The coming years would bring their own challenges and triumphs. There would be late nights of studying for you and long hours in the recording studio for Joshua. There would be arguments over dirty dishes and whose turn it was to do laundry. There would be moments of doubt, of wondering if you were on the right path.
But there would also be quiet mornings spent cuddling in bed, lazy Sundays exploring your new neighborhood, and the thrill of celebrating each other's achievements. There would be the day Joshua landed his first real gig, and the night you aced your first major presentation in grad school. There would be family dinners, game nights with friends, and impromptu dance parties in your tiny living room.
Through it all, that notebook would be there, slowly filling with the story of your life together. A tangible reminder of the love you'd built, the challenges you'd overcome, and the future you were creating together.
As you closed the notebook that first night in your new apartment, you looked at Joshua and saw your whole world reflected in his eyes. You didn't know exactly what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain – whatever came your way, you'd face it together, writing your story one day at a time.
After all, your love wasn't just skin deep. It was woven into the very fabric of who you were, a bond that had been tested and strengthened by every challenge you'd faced. It was the skin you were in, the air you breathed, the truth you believed in.
And as you fell asleep that night, wrapped in each other's arms in your new home, you knew that this was just the beginning of your forever. A forever that you would define together, day by day, moment by moment, love by love.
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papercorgiworld · 11 months ago
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Boyfriend material
Reader is starting the new year in search of a little fun and a boyfriend. Pansy helps here pick the right outfit and guy.
For Blaise, Theo and Mattheo this will be a two part ‘porn with plot’ thing. This is part one and holds the plot. No Enzo part two, because apparently I can only write so much smut before my brain goes brrrr. Sorry.
I added a part 2 for Enzo!
Warning: reader has a little dirty make out daydream. Slytherin dudes have some naughty thoughts as well.
I had fun writing this. I really hope you like reading it. Kisses.
“New year, new me. I’m no longer a boring girl. I’m going to find myself a nice, good looking guy and get crazy with him.” You started as you sat down next to Hermoine. She laughed in response. “You don’t need a guy to have fun or to be cool.” But before you could say anything Pansy plopped down next to you. “Yes, you do, so who’s the lucky guy?” Hermoine rolled her eyes.
You looked around the great hall and settled on a handsome sixth year. “Him.” You tilted your face his way, subtly pointing. “Ew! No! Boring!” Pansy spat. “What’s wrong with that guy?” Hermoine asked, narrowing her eyes at Pansy. “You wanna be popular, you wanna have fun, you gotta date someone on top of the food chain.” Pansy said as a matter of fact and Hermoine mocked the last words of her sentence.
You ignored the tension completely and simply asked. “Who’s on top of the food chain?” Pansy looked around to search for a good example. “Aha!” She said pleased, when she saw who just walked in and grinned at the girls next to her. “Oh no.” Hermoine sighed as she saw a particular group of Slytherins enter the great hall. You simply pursed your lips at the idea. But you brought yourself back to reality. “How’s a gray mouse like me gonna date the top of the food chain?” Pansy simply wiggled her eyebrows and Hermoine was definitely worried now.
***
The next day you made your way to sit next to Hermoine in class. With your skirt short enough to make you question its purpose and your shirt tight and revealing, you now had all the guys paying attention. “What’s this?” Hermoine questioned, obviously referring to your outfit. “This. This is my battle-outfit. I’m conquering the top of the food chain.” You replied with confidence. Hermoine scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Then why is the top of the food chain looking at you like you're their next meal.”
You quickly glanced around the classroom, getting a little nervous, you softly bit your lip. You want to defend your case to Hermoine, but accidentally drop your quill. As you reach for it, Enzo beats you to it. Handing it to you with a sweet smile, but also giving you a cheeky wink.
Theodore, who sits next to Enzo, shakes his head and huffs. “Don’t fall for it. Pansy’s clearly up to something.” Enzo smiles brightly at his friend. “Oh mate, I’ve already fallen. Badly, madly. And it’s okay, you can leave your fallen brother behind. He’s going to a better place, somewhere between her squishy thighs.” Mattheo who sits behind Theodore speaks up. “Oi, T. slap him for me, will ya?” And before Enzo even realizes what Mattheo said, Theo has already given him a light smack on the back of his head. Blaise bites his lip and comes to Enzo’s aid. “In his defense, look at those legs.” Slurring the last word and leaning closer to Mattheo, his eyes never leaving your body. Mattheo pushes his chair a little and leans back for a better view of what his friend is talking about. Mattheo is definitely seeing something he likes, his eyes scan your body. His tongue gently rolls over his lips and he swallows hard thinking about all the noises you would make if he could have his way with you. “Mister Zabini, mister Riddle, care to explain why you don’t have your books out yet.” Professor McGonnagol asks, looking down upon the boys. “Sorry professor.” Blaise immediately reaches for his book, while Mattheo only looks down at his desk like a pouty 5 year old that just got caught.
After class Theodore lets out a frustrated grown as you walk past them in the hallway. You did nothing aside from sitting there and being pretty, yet you had him fantasizing about things that made him loosen his tie halfway during class. “I should’ve skipped class. I wrote down less than when I’m not in class.” Enzo looked confused at Theo’s statement, questioning his logic. Mattheo was about to say something, but Blaise interrupted him. “That simp! Look at him.” Blaise pointed at Draco shamelessly leaning against a wall trying to casually make conversation with you as Pansy tries not to laugh at Draco’s desperation. “No backbone, those Malfoy’s.” Mattheo scoffs. “Yeaah.” Blaise affirms absentmindedly, staring at you as you smile at Draco. Such a beautiful smile, but I bet that mouth can do more than just smile. Blaise was smirking as his thoughts got less innocent with each passing second. “We should save the poor girl.” Enzo states, pulling Blaise out his trance. “Yeah.” Blaise and Enzo quickly make their way over to you. Making Pansy grin at Mattheo and Theodore. Raising her eyebrows as a way of non-verbally taunting them: are you two really gonna just stand there with your pathetic male pride. “Tell me you have smokes. I need one.” Mattheo sighs in frustration after he finally managed to pull his eyes away from you. Theo nods. “Girls and their games. They’ll be the death of me.” Theo can’t help but take one last look at you.
***
“Pans, I really don’t think this is a good idea. Hermoine’s right I’m attracting the wrong kind of guys.” Pansy eyes roll up in annoyance. That bloody Granger-girl can squeeze the fun out of everything. “You can set them straight. Believe me, if you bat your eyes they will start behaving.” You make a face disagreeing with her. “I’m looking for fun, yeah, but I’m also looking for boyfriend material, they’re not that.” Pansy huffs. “You know nothing.” You frown in confusion. “Just play my game. You’ll get what you want.” Pansy starts walking again, but then turns on her heels looking at you still confused. “You are gonna have to pick one, preferably by tonight. I would hate to see the Slytherin boy band break up, because I really don’t think they can share.” You bite your lip softly and your mind wonders.
If Pansy was really speaking the truth and you could just have your pick. Which one? Him. If he would push you against this cold hallway wall right now you would immediately spread your legs so he could lift you up. Your neck and your jaw would be peppered with his soft kisses. You would wrap your legs around him and he would buck his hips into yours. Your mouth would fall open slightly because of all the sensations building up between your legs. He would mercilessly attack your mouth and his hands would explore every inch of your body. Squeezing your butt, making you instinctively rub your core against his growing bulge. He would cup your breasts, his thumb caressing your nipple through the fabric. “Everything alright?” Luna snaps you out of your wonderful train of thoughts. You look at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I better get going. Class, and stuff.” You push your thighs together, before fully letting go of your daydream. “I have those moments too you know, when I forget about reality.” Luna comforts you as you both walk to class. “Uhu” Is all you manage to say, not really knowing what to think.
If Blaise is you’re guy: part 2
***
“Your party outfit is a shirt?” Hermoine asks, not hiding her judgment. “It’s an oversized shirt, which makes it a dress. It’s fashion, Granger, get over it.” Pansy snaps. “You’re corrupting my friend.” Hermoine hisses at Pansy. “Oh, darling. I’m not corrupting. But some guy might.” Pansy winks, Hermoine’s mouth falls open and you stand there sheepishly looking at your feet. “I’m wearing shorts under this dress. So it’s really not that bad.” You finally manage to say. “Alright, let’s party.” Pansy says and she’s the first to walk through the doors of the room of requirement.
For Mattheo: part 2
For Theodore: part 2
For Lorenzo: part 2
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finalgirllx · 4 months ago
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thunderstorms
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took some heavy liberties with week 3 of @thatdammchickennugget and i's jinxed july challenge to write the forced proximity mattheo riddle fic of my dreams. i hope you enjoy it just as much as i do. and also big thanks to @pizzaapeteer for proofing, i love you! 2.5k words | fluff? i think | f!reader implied
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Snap. Another twig breaks underneath the tattered soles of your shoes while you continue the trek along the less-traveled grove. The air is thick with the scent of wildflowers and earth, and sunlight filters down on you through the leafy branches, casting shadows on the greenery that litters the forest floor. It is pristine, seemingly unaffected by too much human activity. 
That is until Mattheo and you embarked on an increasingly futile mission imposed by your one common interest - your mutual friend Enzo. He had eagerly insisted that it be the two of you that forage for an ingredient native to the area, claiming that adding it to a drink mix can get you wasted quicker than any brew sold in shops.
The pair of you had done well not to stumble too far from Enzo's parents' summer home. A generous invitation had been offered to your friend's group - a chance to relax and kick back there over the long weekend. A relatively secluded area, it is sparsely populated by second homes of the upper class or rickety cabins so old that not even magic can prevent them from slowly succumbing to the elements. Everyone tries to enjoy the spoils of the location's offerings, as it is a sweet spot to spend the few warmer months in Britain.
"Y'know, I am not an outdoorsy guy," Mattheo complains after another branch scrapes his forearm. "This is the dumbest mission Enzo could have sent us on."
"At least we can agree on one thing," you mutter exasperatedly. "I should have known you'd have no sense of your lefts and rights."
Two steps ahead of you, Mattheo pauses and looks back, his expression suggesting, 'You want to go there?' His brows raise, and his chocolate curls still fall perfectly over his forehead despite endless collisions with twigs and branches. Honestly, you were unsure if his looks or personality irked you more. You glare back so he knows exactly how you feel about the situation.
"Right, take no accountability for being one-half of why we are still out here," Mattheo responded in kind, then turning back to continue leading the way.
"You are rid-"
"Ridiculously handsome? I know. Come up with some new material, sweetheart," Mattheo interrupts with his unending cocky attitude. Preparing to unleash more insults, you are startled by the feeling of a cold drop on your head. Then another. And another.
A loud clap echoes above, booming in the sky, followed shortly by the rapid motion of overcast clouds moving in, blocking out any remaining sunlight. A second roar of thunder bursts, sending out another warning that a storm is fast approaching. The sudden singular drop quickly builds into a consistent shower, and the panic sets in over the both of you. Mattheo takes charge, gesturing for you to follow him and for once, you decide to take his lead without talking back, which might have been a mistake as you continue deeper into the forest and further away from the house.
Minutes felt like hours under the increasingly ceaseless downpour as you and Mattheo scrambled through the grove. Finally spotting an old cabin structure, you make a break for it and dash underneath the awning for some reprieve. Mattheo vigorously jiggles the knob of the dilapidated door, seeming to forget his wizarding abilities. Propelled by a clash of thunder, you watched Mattheo resort to brute force, managing to barrel through the door and get you two inside. 
Solely focused on escaping the pouring sky, you follow him in while heaving from the chaos.
"Nice going, genius," you admonished Mattheo while catching your breath. "Forget a first-year unlocking charm?"
"Ungrateful as ever," Mattheo responds gruffly, his amusement overshadowed by temporary exhaustion as he steps over and shuts the door that is barely held up on its hinges. "See? I got you out of the rain, and the door still works." 
The two of you take some time to shake yourselves off in a meager effort to eliminate that soaked feeling. Squeezing out your top,  you silently curse at the unpleasantness of your damp hair that now clings to your face. You looked over and watched Mattheo shaking his head, his hair splattering leftover water all over the vicinity.
"You're like a wet dog," you feign disgust, unable to resist a chance to tease.
"What else am I expected to do?" Mattheo countered, brushing his hands through his hair and hoping for the best.
"Be more tasteful with it," you suggested, suppressing a snort afterward at your own poor choice of words.
"Tasteful? You seriously went with tasteful?" Mattheo caught on, his disgruntled look from the uncomfortable wet transforming into a grin. "Bloody hell, sweetheart, I know you love my perfect curls, but that really is the least of my concerns." 
You coped by turning away to continue drying yourself off, hoping he did not see your disconcerted expression.
Once Mattheo reached a state of dampness he could live with, he stepped toward the intact windows to watch the storm outside. It was miraculous that a cabin as worse for wear as this one held its own against the onslaught.
"Well, we might be stuck here for some time. I suggest you get comfortable," Mattheo announced with a resigned sigh, glancing back to the room for potential spots to sit or, more accurately, the lack thereof. "The floor. The floor will do."
He follows through, eyeing spaces on the rickety floorboards to settle down. You roll your eyes at the idea, though the increasing weight of your legs after all that running starts to wear on you and beckon you down. So you give in, finding your own spot to settle, a perfectly reasonable distance from him. His eyes bore into you with an unreadable expression, a bit too analytical for your comfort. You are not too fond of him watching your every move. Not at all.
"Could you look elsewhere? I am not your prey to stalk," you finally snap. 
"What? This is just how I look at things. You cannot blame me; it is either you or the rotting walls," Mattheo retorts, emphasizing his point with a gesture of his hands.
"Your eyes are… they look too hard!" you complain amidst a struggle to find the right way to explain why his gaze ruffled you so much.
"Too hard? She thinks I look too hard, whatever the hell that means. Salazar, help us, a true wordsmith in the midst," Mattheo complained to himself, ensuring his frustration was loud enough to invite further squabbling.
"I am just saying! Look elsewhere!" you insisted.
"I can't help it. You are more interesting-looking," Mattheo justified through gritted teeth, his increasing annoyance evident.
"Interesting-looking? And you accuse me of being unable to talk today. Is that meant to be a compliment?"
"Tell me you would not have my head if I called you pretty, so interesting it is!" Mattheo growled in a harsh but earnest tone. He shook his head, jaw clenched to the point of discomfort over what he admitted. Just to add to the pettiness, he scooted to face even further away from your direction.
This development undoubtedly took you by surprise, silencing you momentarily in your conversation. You always had a comeback for Mattheo, but this was the first time you had absolutely no clue how to retaliate.
"Pretty?" you repeated, pushing aside your dignity to clarify you had heard correctly.
"Yes, pretty," Mattheo confirmed, his voice huskier than the bellowing moments prior. "Is that such a shock to you?"
It honestly did feel like a shock. In all the time you had known each other, the words you exchanged were cheeky at best and plain disrespectful at worst. A more tender way of describing you was not something you expected to come from Mattheo at all.
"It is. I thought I was just your favorite punching bag," you admitted. 
"Oh, please. Do you honestly believe I would answer you at all if I really could not stand you? Perhaps you are more dimwitted than I initially presumed."
"I just thought—"
"And given that I have seen you quite literally punch some poor bloke who truly bothered you, I assumed you fell into a similar train of thought, no?"
Hell, you hated it when he was right. Something about Mattheo kept you coming back for more in a way that couldn't simply be attributed to the proximity of your friend group. The feelings creeping up inside you now had less to do with being stuck in a cabin with him through a storm and more with how this predicament forced you to come to terms with how you truly felt. You visibly shifted where you sat as feelings you had no clue how to handle washed over you more intensely than the rain still pouring outside.
Mattheo rose again without warning and stalked around the cabin, this time on a mission.
"What are you doing?"
"A blanket, a towel. Something to warm you up," he replied, his attention fixed on his newfound goal, which was an insatiable need to help and protect you in your wetted state. 
"You do not have to! It will probably be full of mildew should you even find one," you protested through your sheer surprise at his kind gesture.
Initially written off as too damp to use, the fireplace centered on the cabin's back wall was suddenly vital to Mattheo's mission. Finally remembering that he was a wizard, Mattheo reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wand, and crouched in front of the fireplace.
"Incendio…" he spoke the incantation, causing a flame to spout from his wand toward the firewood on top of the grate, hoping they were not too far gone from the elements.
To your shared relief, a small fire came to life before your eyes, its glow brightening your dampened spirits which was soon followed by an embrace of its much-needed heat. 
"Yes!" Mattheo hissed excitedly, hurriedly gesturing you to come closer, and you did. The previous distance you had created no longer mattered, as you were now shoulder-to-shoulder with him for a chance to enjoy the warmth provided by the lit fireplace.
With the both of you too focused on warming up by the crackling flames and learning to ignore the blaring storm outside, peaceful silence hung in the air. A mutual respect arose between you as you ruminated over the afternoon's events.
You glanced at Mattheo, whose shoulder you were now definitely pressed against, and seized the opportunity to check him out shamelessly. He was right; that penetrative gaze remained even in his resting state. The light from the fire highlighted the warmth in his eyes that usually matched the dark of night, and his brown locks that had dried into bouncy coils perfectly suited his chiseled structure. The last remaining baby fat on his cheeks softened his enigmatic look, especially in more calm instances such as this. Few were treated to such a view of him, let alone have the capacity to appreciate it like you did. Wait - appreciating him? He seems to catch on simultaneously, the corners of his lips twitching in satisfaction over your turn to gaze.
"I am not your prey to stalk," he abruptly spoke up in a high-pitched, mocking tone to mimic your previous dramatics. You pushed your shoulder against him further as a hollow threat to get him to quit his teasing.
"You look too hardddd."
"Stopppp," you plead, pressing against him again, which causes him to turn to you finally. That stupid, intense gaze again was now much too close for comfort.
Mattheo scoops your hands into his larger, calloused ones, suddenly enclosing yours. He begins rubbing them, his touch creating a friction that warms your fingers, and despite your confusion, you don't immediately pull away.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to warm you up."
"It is still summer. They are not that cold, really…"
"Let me just have this excuse to hold your hands," Mattheo says hushedly, shutting down all of your protests. His touch is comforting, so you allow it.
"Forward this evening, are we?" you still can not resist asking with a raised brow.
"Maybe. But when else will we be trapped for a night like this?" Mattheo was right again, blasted. The bubbling chemistry was now utterly unavoidable, and this night was simply the catalyst for this new beginning.
Still, it was so recent that you likely would not change your behavior towards each other once you returned to your friends, who were probably worried sick about your whereabouts. The storm was still raging, so you just accepted that it would be easier to call it a night instead of waiting for it to pass or even worse; risking your safety by trudging through it. You silently agreed with Mattheo to let this evening run its natural course, showing your reciprocated feelings by allowing him to continue creating friction with your hands via a similar technique used to make a fire.
The rest of the evening went by uneventfully as you cozied up to each other, finding yourself leaning more into him as your lids grew heavier with tiredness.
Mattheo took on the role of a pillow, pressing his back to the floor and letting you lay against him, going as far as draping your leg over his and resting your head on his chest. The resistant part of you wanted to claim this was merely to survive the night, but Merlin, he was easy to sink into. No longer fighting the call of rest, your last conscious moment was the feeling of Mattheo pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before sleep took over.
—-------------
The chirping of birds and light rays seeping into the small windows of the cabin signaled it was time to wake up. You two had stayed wrapped up in each other for the night, which was probably the sole reason you felt at all rested.
The warm embrace of Mattheo kept you tucked cozily into his arms, providing a warmth that was now overwhelmingly hot in the morning summer heat. Suddenly, the chatter of approaching voices traveled around the hollowness of the cabin before the distinctive voice of Enzo called out. "It only took a dangerous thunderstorm to bring you two together," he remarked, a wicked grin matching his chirpy tone. You looked up to meet his gaze through the cracked window, which illuminated your intimate position with Mattheo. The cheeky disturbance startled Mattheo awake with a jump, groaning at the loud intrusion of his mates' voices.
You observed through squinted eyes as Mattheo and Enzo began quarreling. Amidst the light-hearted chaos, you heard snippets like 'It's not what it looks like!' and 'The ingredients search was a load of bollocks, wasn't it?' The goal to save face came second to your relief at rejoining your friends.
A ruse that had gotten way out of hand landed you in the last place you would have expected this morning, but the possibilities it offered left you nervous but hopeful. You watched a bit longer before stretching and getting up to join, armed with your own silly defenses over why you were caught in Mattheo's arms as the lot of you made your way back to the summer home.
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leah-lover · 7 months ago
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A person more than an athlete. Nika mühl x reader
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Love always had a way of consuming you. Whether it was your friendships, relationships with your parents, your friends, or even your romantic relationships, you felt the love in every part of your body. You loved deeply and wholeheartedly.
You were also a dedicated person. You gave your career all you had which in turn got you a championship in your freshman year.
Women's sports were trending, and you were on top of the pyramid. From sponsorship deals, to ads, interviews, and magazine shoots, you were everywhere. The spotlight didn't mean much to you though. All you cared about was the sleeping body next to you.
Nika was to you the prettiest girl in the world. For her you would absolutely do anything.
“ Good morning.” You whisper into her ear before you kiss her shoulder. “ Morning.” she responds, shifting to lay on her back.
You two start kissing. The kisses were short and sweet which left you needing much more. “ Baby I am gonna be late for class.” She says after pulling out.
“ But…” you start to protest before she cuts you off. “ Babe I still have to go all the way to my room, get ready and go to class. We will finish this later okay?” She says before getting out of bed. You sigh loudly as she wears her shirt and gets her stuff. “ I love you “ you say although what you say isn't clear because your face is hidden by a pillow. “ I love you too. I will see you in practice.” she says before she leaves.
The rest of the day went as usual. You got ready for class, which you attended. You then changed into your huskies' track suit and went to the gym.
You started out training all right. You did your activation, some shooting drills, lifted some weights and got some cardio done.
You didn't talk nika during all of this because coach geno sat you all down in the first session of the year and said. “ You all are UConn players now, you have a big legacy to follow. You need to focus, work hard and train hard, and while you are part of this team relationships with your teammates are absolutely forbidden.” However, you couldn't help but fall in love with the Croatian international, she captured your heart more than basketball everdid.
You thought something was up when the coach asked nika to go to his office for a chat but you didn't give it much thought instead you hung out with Paige and Kk. You didn't see nika leave because you were too busy learning a new dance with Paige.
“ Hey, can you give me a minute?” said the coach to you.
You then enter his office with an unsettling feeling in your stomach.
“What's up coach? “ you say as you dit opposite his desk.
“ Look, I am gonna be as straight with you as I was with nika. You heard what I said the very first time you came to this gym. And you know what is gonna happen now.”
“ Coach with all do respect you can't do this. We are good assets to this team and we have been performing well. We won a whole championship last year while being together.”
“ I'm afraid it is not up for questioning. You will terminate this relationship. You agreed to this when you first signed the contract with us. The contract stated that inter team relationships are forbidden. Plus Nina already agreed to it.”
You didn't know how you got out of that office or how you walked across campus to your dorm. All you knew was that Nika and you were done.
You opened your door, got in and sat on the floor as soon as you closed it. You started to uncontrollably sob. That's when you feel familiar hands wrap around you. Her smell and her touch were comforting.
“ I love you so much.” she whispered in your ear. You could feel her tears on your cheeks.
“ he said you agreed to the bullshit he said.” you say wiping your tears.
“ I couldn't not agree. If he cuts me from the team I am done. I have to go back home and all of this will be for nothing.”
“ We can keep it a secret again. I don't want to live without you.”
“ Baby, if he catches us again we can't come back from it. I love you so much baby but I can't.”
You kiss each other multiple times while holding one another on the floor of your dorm. Nika then leaves and you stay on the floor heartbroken for a long time.
You flipped a switch as soon as she left the door knowing that you aren't gonna wake up next to her, sleep next to her, kiss her, or be inside her.
The next day at training was miserable to say the least. You didn't sleep the night before, you didn't smile, or talk to anybody. Your performance displayed your sadness. You were missing easy shots, and you clearly weren't focused. You didnt talk to nika or look at her. You started like that for 2 weeks you didnt talk to anybody, all you thought about was how much you modded her touch.
“ baby please don't do this.” said nika to you one the way to practice. “ We need to talk.” she says before she pulled you into the medic’s room.
As soon as she closed the door, she pinned you to the wall and started kissing you. You missed the taste of her lips, the weight of her hands on your waist, the way her hands rubbed you sides and her tongue swiped across your.
“ i missed you so fucking much.” she says after pulling out.
“ I am not whole without you. I can't do anything without you. I missed you so much.” you say before kissing her again. You were hungry for her, you needed her more than anything in the world.
“ I don't like this without you. Would you please come back to me?.” she asks while swiping her thumb on your cheek.
“ if it cost me my life to be with you again.” you respond.
'I love you baby.’ she adds.
“ I love you more than you will ever know.” you respond.
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souliebird · 2 months ago
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[[and then I met you || ch. 27]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
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Police Arrest Three After Mass Protests in LA County
By C. Grant
Three people were arrested in Pasadena, California yesterday after a crowd gathered to protest the death of Sheila Pom. Police say the three individuals, whose names have not yet been released, appeared to be Enhanceds attempting to agitate the crowd. Witnesses claim one of the individuals was creating sparks with their fingers and threatening to start a fire, while the two others encouraged the behavior. Police have made no comment about these arrests and all questions about the incident have been redirected to a now defunct phone number. 
Sheila Pom was killed in an officer-related shooting two weeks ago after neighbors reported her as a Dangerous Individual under the new Sokovia Accords Act. Pom, 23, worked at her uncle’s auto body shop as a mechanic while also attending online classes to get a degree in Engineering. She was also a telekinetic - someone who can move objects with their mind. 
Pom was known to not be shy about her gifts. Pom was seen frequently lifting cars and trucks within garages without the help of equipment and is rumored to have once righted a tipped over semi-truck. Neighbors became concerned when Pom began using her gifts at home.
“We’d come home, and things would be floating up and down the street,” one neighbor said.
Another claimed Pom was unstable, and when she would become upset, things around her would begin to shake.
“I thought it was an earthquake until my TV hit the ceiling,” a source who lived in the same building Pom told GKTV, “I learned the next day her boyfriend broke up with her.”
Officers were called when Pom refused to return a motorcycle to the ground while working on it in a residential neighborhood. After a brief standoff, officers fired two shots, striking Pom in the head, and killing her. 
Pom’s family claims she was unaware of the officer’s presence, as wireless earbuds were found near her body after. Pom was known to listen to music to block the noise of machines. 
Protests began after the officers involved in the incident were cleared of any wrongdoing. 
----
A full-page ad takes over your screen, and instead of continuing to read the depressing article, you close the tab.
There has been a palpable unrest in the news cycle the past week that is starting to leave you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You’ve noticed a shift in the general narrative tone and terminology used when discussing people who have superpowers. 
Before Sokovia, before Lagos, before Connecticut, the morning shows would bring on people with amazing gifts and gently joke about them joining the Avengers as they made water fly around the set, but now those same hosts debate if they should be allowed to have the right to privacy. ‘Enhanced Peoples’ has been shortened to just Enhanceds and is now spit out like it is something dirty. 
You don’t know when the conversation stopped centering around heroes and vigilantes and started being about everyday people, but it scares you that the change happened. There seems to be no official power scale about what is deemed ‘dangerous’ and your mind keeps zipping all over the place trying to justify different lines of thinking.
Does Matt fall under the category of Dangerous? 
He is a vigilante, so by default the Accords are directed at him, but is it doubly so? If he was forced to reveal himself to the government, would they require him to wear a tracking device? Or would they try to lock him up?
Could he fight it in court, or would they whisk him away in the middle of the night and you’d never know what happened?
If Matt is deemed Dangerous because of his senses, and not just because he is a vigilante, would Minnie be considered the same?
With how intense and angry everyone is becoming you could see yourself having to take her in to be tested.
To be monitored. 
And she is just a baby. 
You can’t imagine how others must feel - people who are older, who are just trying to live their lives. The girl who was killed was just trying to fix her bike, like millions of other people do every weekend. She wasn’t going to other countries to fight terrorists. She wasn’t trying to use her powers to rule over others. She wasn’t hurting anyone.
But she was different, so they killed her.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need help!”
You’re ripped from your spiraling thoughts and look across the room to where Minnie is sprawled out on the floor. Her Starkpad is in front of her, and she’s set up Pig and Scooby so they are also peering down at the device and you know exactly what she is doing.
It is the same thing she has been doing for a week straight - playing a bootleg Muppet’s math game. 
Since meeting Spider-man, all your little Mouse has wanted to do is learn math. She keeps saying she wants to impress him and make him proud, and you are in no way going to discourage her. Every day has been filled with counting and addition and subtraction and you are a bit amazed she has stayed so focused. 
You are not going to complain at all about it - you are getting time to yourself while she has been glued to Elmo and Kermit. 
You leave your phone on the dining table and head towards your daughter.
“You need help?” you confirm as you crouch beside her. The screen shows a Muppet you don’t recognize, along with various numbers floating around them, and up at the top, the equation that has your little Mouse stumped. 
“I need help!” Minnie repeats as she scrambles up off her belly and into sitting. “I don’t have enough fingers!” 
She holds up both her hands to show you all ten of her itty-bitty fingers and you make a sympathetic noise. 
Mouse has been getting pretty good at using her fingers to help her with addition and subtraction, but on only one hand. She uses the index finger on her right hand to help count by pointing at each finger and hasn’t quite worked out she can use her fingers to point and count. That is okay, though, as you are happy to lend yours to her important cause. 
“Okay, how many fingers do you need?”
You hold out your hands and she instantly begins to manipulate them. 
“This one…this one needs three! One, two, three!” She pushes your thumb and index finger down so the other three remain up, then she pushes down the pinky of the other hand. “And this one is four!”
“So, three and four? What are we doing with three and four?” You ask, trying to not laugh at her determined face.
“We adds them!” She chirps, before starting to jab at your fingers, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! That’s seven fingers! Mommy, it’s seven! Three plus four is seven!” 
“That’s right, it is seven. Which number is seven?” You direct her back to her game, where she triumphantly picks the correct symbol. The Muppet congratulates her before presenting a new equation. 
Minnie squeals in delight before ripping the device off the ground and shoving it in your face, “I know this one! Mommy! I know this one! It’s three! Mommy! It’s three!” 
You can’t even process what the question is before the screen is out of sight. Your daughter holds her Starkpad above her head, treating it like some war prize as she starts spinning and dancing around the living room. 
“It’s three! It’s three! It’s three!” 
You laugh at her antics, heartwarming at her pureness. How could anyone ever think she’s a danger?
“Are you sure it’s three?” You tease as you watch her. 
She whips around to you, eyes scrunching up into a glare, and barks, “It’s three!”
“Okay, okay, it’s three.”
You push yourself up into standing just as Mouse returns to her spot. She drops her Starkpad to the ground a little harder than you would prefer, but that is why it has a big bulky case. She plops down in front of it and happily smacks the number three that is floating around the screen.
You let yourself watch her for a few seconds, silently bombarding her with all the love you feel for her. You want to wrap her up and live in this bubble forever.
Except, there is one element missing from your perfect moment. You wish there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a chin on your shoulder. You want to lean back against a muscular chest and lose yourself to eternity like that. 
Instead of indulging those thoughts, you tell yourself to stop fantasizing and you make your way back to the kitchen to check on dinner.
Vegetable curry has been simmering on the stove for most of the day. It has been a while since you had the energy to make the dish from scratch, but you had a craving this morning and went all out. You’ve made curry for Minnie before, and she did not complain - though you think that is because her portion was mostly rice and hot dog cuts. You plan to do the same again tonight, and if she wants more sauce, you’ll give it to her. 
You check your seasonings and give everything a stir to make sure nothing gets stuck at the bottom of the pot. The rich aroma tickles your nose, and you are glad you don’t have to wait much longer to treat yourself.
As you debate adding a pinch more salt, you catch Minnie sneaking towards you out of the corner of your eye. Her movements are slow and dramatic, and you pretend you don’t notice her. This ruse works, and you appropriately jump in fear when she suddenly tugs on your shirt.
“Up!” She demands and you oblige, scooping your daughter onto your hip. As soon as she is high enough, she cups her hands around your ear and leans into whisper, “Daddy saids the food smells yummy-yummy.”
She quickly dissolves into giggles, and it is infectious, so you end up smiling. 
Matt hasn’t been over for dinner in a hot minute, and you are hoping to have a nice quiet family night, before he goes out on his Patrol. The plan is to watch a movie after your meal and Minnie has already prepared for this by dragging multiple blankets out to the couch. You just know she is going to demand a cuddle pile, and now that you and Matt are intimate, it isn’t something you are nervous about. 
You just want to have a good time.
“Can you tell Daddy everything is almost ready?” you ask, even though you know Matt can probably hear you just fine. 
Mouse, always eager to be helpful, nods and relays the message directly into your ear. You try to not grimace, and so it won’t happen again, set her down on the ground. 
“Can you plug in your Starkpad so it can sleep for the night?” 
She streaks off to do her newly assigned task, leaving you to start setting the table. When you were at the store, you bought Matt a bottle of beer - a brand you know he likes - and you set it at his designated spot. You’ve grown accustomed to just drinking water and juice, but you don’t want to push that on to him - not when he’s a guest and coming over after a long day of work. 
As you start to make everyone’s plates, you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You know Minnie knows the routine for getting ready for dinner and you just hope she isn’t trying to wash Scooby’s paws again. You are worried he’ll end up moldy and you aren’t sure what you will do if that happens. You peek into the living room and are relieved to see your daughter’s best friends have been relocated to sitting on the coffee table, facing the television. 
You finish setting everything up just in time, it seems. Minnie runs from the hallway right to the door as you go to wash your own hands, and you rush to get all the soap off so you can help her open the door. 
Matt is standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever in a gray suit. He looks like he’s had a busy day - his hair is windswept, and he is sporting a strong five o’clock shadow. There is a garment bag draped over his arm and his saddle bag looks a little bulkier than usual and you wonder if he ran some errands on his lunch - picking up his dry cleaning and such. 
You barely have time to take in his appearance before Mouse is launching herself at him.
“Daddy!” She shrieks and Matt oh so easily swings her up onto his hip. “Daddy! We’re having vege-tuhble kermies for dinner! I helped make it! I cut up ALL the carrots! By myself!”
“By yourself, huh?” Matt confirms, a bright, warm smile taking up his entire face. “Soon you’ll be making us dinner.”
You step aside so he can come in and help to take his things to hang while Mouse soaks up his attention. 
“No! Mommy makes dinner because…’cause she makes the bestest foods. I just help!”
“You are a very good helper,” you interject, “You keep a very clean workstation. A professional chef would be proud.”
Minnie beams at the praise, then a microsecond later, is wiggling in to be let down. Her feet hit the ground and she takes off running back toward the living room, probably to collect something to show off to her Daddy. 
Matt takes the small break to turn his attention to you. A hand goes to your cheek, and instead of a brief ‘hello’ peck, he kisses you like he wants to turn and pin you to the wall. It catches you off guard, but you easily melt into it. You clutch at the lapel of his suit jacket and try to not moan as he nips at your lips. You open your mouth for him, but being the tease he is, he pulls back just enough to whisper against you.
“Been thinking about that all day.” 
The words send your blood rushing - some north to your cheeks and the rest to your cunt. 
He’d been thinking about you? About wanting to kiss you? Or has he been thinking about more than that - because you must admit, you’ve been thinking about it. You’ve had more than a few thoughts about what you want to do to him the next time you two are alone together and those thoughts were certainly very explicit. 
“Matt…” you totally do not whine out but instead of replying, his grin just turns cocky. He pulls away as Minnie returns to the entryway, and you decide you need a drink of your water. You escape and Mouse starts showing off her latest masterpieces to Matt. 
Food coloring, cotton balls, and popsicle sticks have proven to be a massive hit and Minnie has made a whole collection of things for Matt - there’s butterflies and flowers, a house with clouds, and various abstract pieces. You are sure his office is already filled to the brim with his daughter’s art, and you would not be surprised if he started to hang things from the ceiling when he does run out of room. He seems to treasure every little thing Minnie has given him and it warms your heart so much. You hope that love never runs out. 
Somehow, Matt ushers Minnie back to the dining room while she shoves different papers into his hands and gets her up in her booster seat. 
“I’m going to put all these in my bag, so they don’t get dirty or lost, okay?” He tells Minnie, who nods way too enthusiastically. 
“Keep them clean!”  And then, just like that, she switches from being excited her Daddy is there to being a hungry toddler. She whips around to face you and asks in an almost impatient manner, “Can I has my hot dogs now?”
You give her the go ahead as Matt returns to the table and takes his place. You quickly tell him the placement of everything, including his beer, then quickly add, “If you don’t like it, I have a few different things I could make you. Or we could order something.”
A brief panic runs through you when Matt scoffs. You think you’ve insulted him - having him come all the way to Chelsea to eat a dinner he won’t enjoy and having to find a substitute. 
“I love curry and this smells delicious. I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, I’m hoping some of those leftovers on the stove are for me to take home and lord over Fog tomorrow.”
You flush at his sweetness and mumble out you’ll pack him some to go. This seems to please him, and he starts to dig in. Ever the little parrot, Minnie mimics him by shoveling food into her mouth with a big grin and you can’t help but laugh a little. 
“It’s nummy!” Your little one declares, and even if she’s just eating plain rice right now, you’ll take it as a win. You know well she won’t eat what she doesn’t like.
“Speaking of yummy,” Matt starts, slow and deliberate, with his head angled towards you, “I was hoping we could go somewhere yummy together.”
You blink slowly at the statement, rolling it over in your mind and trying to dissect the meaning. Did he want to go somewhere for dessert? Maybe get ice cream or something? “Somewhere yummy…?” 
“Mhm,” he hums, then his smile becomes a bit more sly. Even though you know it isn’t true, you feel like, behind his glasses, he is hungrily looking you up and down, “Somewhere like Uvas.”
The name doesn’t automatically generate anything for you, but after a moment, it dawns on you. Uvas in a Spanish restaurant near Central Park known to be high end and impossible to get into. It’s been in the local tabloids a few times for turning away minor celebrities who don’t meet the dress code. You’re mouth parts slightly in shock.
“What’s Oo-vuhas?” Minnie asks around her fork, her big eyes looking between you and Matt. “Do theys has yummy foods?”
“Oh, they have yummy food,” Matt teases. He then leans forward a bit in his seat and stage whispers to her, “It’s where I want to take Mommy for a date.”
“A date?” Minnie scrunches up her face at the word while your mind is still spinning. 
Matt wants to take you on a date? To Uvas? You have never been anywhere that fancy or expensive as a date. Hell, you’ve never been somewhere that fancy, period. The nicest date you’ve ever been on was Hard Rock Cafe - which says a lot about your dating life.
“A date,” Matt confirms, smug and knowingly scheming. You can hear it in his voice as he tells Minnie, “That is where Mommy and Daddy go and have dinner together as grown-ups.”
Up goes Minnie’s hand into her mouth, but it stays there only a split second. Her eyes get impossibly bigger and filled with wonder, and she whispers, “Like Lady and Tramp?”
“Exactly like Lady and Tramp.”
“Mommy!” Minnie says a little too loudly, pointing her fork at you. “You gotta go to Oo-vuhas and be Lady and Tramp! You gotta!”
And at that moment you know you can’t say no, and that Matt knows that. You can’t tell your daughter you don’t want to be like Lady and Tramp. Not that you don’t want to go on a date with Matt - the idea gets you giddy and makes your stomach flutter - but you thought if it happened, it would be a coffee or something. Not somewhere where you can’t even afford to look at the building. The idea makes you a little nauseous, because you are sure you’d make an absolute fool of yourself.
But Matt looks determined and sure of himself. You are certain he asked in front of Minnie so that she could help bully you into saying yes to such a lavish date. 
Luckily, your mind is working in overdrive, and you choke out, “I don’t have anything to wear. They have a dress code, don’t they?”
You don’t expect Matt to push his chair out and get up. Your throat instantly tightens up and fear shoots up your spine. Have you offended him? He clearly wants to do something with you and you’re over here hesitating. You must be coming off as a complete bitch. 
You start to stand up yourself as Matt disappears into the entryway. You don’t think he’d just leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.
Maybe you can talk to him - explain that somewhere a little less grand would be ideal to start.
Before you can start to follow him, Matt is coming back to the table, holding up the garment bag he brought with him, still looking like the cat that got the canary. 
“I thought you might say that,” he starts, his voice almost a little musical, “so I got you this.” 
You stare dumbly at him, shock and confusion overtaking your system. 
He got you something to wear? To Uvas? 
No one has ever bought you clothes before - except your parents. Even when you were pregnant, the small amount of gifts you got were all for Minnie. 
You distantly hear Minnie start saying something about presents, but it is all muffled under the sound of blood pumping through your ears. You step forward hesitantly and reach out for the zipper of the bag, your hand shaking slightly.
You expect it to be a joke. You’re going to open the bag and there’s going to be a clown costume inside, or a skimpy dress people like arm candy to wear, or something akin to a Burka. 
You don’t expect a black floor length sheath gown. The silhouette is simple, but you can tell just by looking at it the quality of the dress is top notch. The fabric has a nice weight to it, and it is incredibly soft to the touch that you have the distinct feeling that it did not come from a dress warehouse or a department store. 
This type of dress would come from a boutique uptown and would cost a few hundred dollars. 
You are so caught up in admiring the dress, you don’t notice Minnie come up beside you until she is also touching the dress. Panic that she might have crumbs or curry on her fingers runs through you, but you force it down.
“It’s like a princess dress for Mommy!” Mouse cooes and you feel your face start to heat up.
You’ve never worn something so nice before and certainly nothing that would be fit for a princess, but it seems like Matt and Minnie are on the same page.
“Well, I want Mommy to feel like a princess.” 
You want to hide your face, but you know you can’t, so you cover your mouth instead.
“Matt, this is beautiful. But this is so much, I can’t accept this.” 
You know that while Matt is a lawyer, he’s still struggling a bit financially. If he had his way, you know he wouldn’t charge anyone for his services, and even though Nelson, Murdock, and Page has paying customers, they still have to stagger out their bills. 
He shouldn’t be spending his hard saved money on you. 
Matt sighs your name before gently draping the garment bag over the back of his dining chair and stepping towards you. Both his hands go to your waist, and you freeze up as he steps close enough to press his forehead to yours. Your heart begins to wildly beat when his hands slowly begin to rub your sides. 
“Let me spoil you. To make up for all the dates I’ve missed. Please?” His lips dip into a small frown and you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. 
He’s gone out of his way for you, and you are being so ungrateful. 
But it is so hard to say yes. Guilt is pooling in your stomach, and you just want to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten about. That is so much easier than Matt holding you, saying such sweet things.
You don’t want to ruin everything. 
You close your eyes as you have a war inside yourself. All you have to say is ‘Yes’ and you’ll make Matt happy, but the monster inside of you keeps dragging your mind into a pit. 
Matt wants to treat you like a princess, but how crushing will it be when he decides that is no longer the case? Can you take that?
The corners of your eyes start to sting and your monster starts to mock you for getting worked up over something as simple as being asked on a date. 
Why can’t you be normal?
Why can’t you accept this?
Why can’t -
The thoughts cease as Matt’s lips press against yours, soft and sweet and tempting. You respond hesitantly.
“Let me take care of you,” he breathes into your mouth, making you shudder. “You deserve it.” 
“You deserve it!” Minnie chirps from beside your knees and you very suddenly remember where you are and what you were doing. You try to pull away from Matt, thinking Minnie hasn’t seen the two of you like this yet, and it might confuse her, but he keeps his hands firmly planted on your hips, not letting you go. You don’t try to fight it, instead, you turn your head away, trying to hide away in your shell. 
You know there is no way you will win this. Matt is determined and he clearly has Minnie on his side, so, very hesitantly, and feeling like you are going to throw up at any moment, you nod into Matt’s shoulder.
“Okay.”
Mouse lets out a deafening cheer and you feel her dart away.
“LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP!”
Matt laughs at her excitement over something she doesn’t understand, while you tuck yourself into his hold, wondering how long you have before he ends up shattering your heart into pieces.
---
tags:
@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13
 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face
@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 
 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 
@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze
 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil
@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 
@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
294 notes · View notes
yok00k · 9 months ago
Text
Igual Que Un Ángel
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: hellokittylover!/bimbo!oc x boxer!jk
genre: MATURE, fluff, lowkey angst,
“heaven must have sent you, love”
synopsis: after spending the entire day shopping with your boyfriend, you’re craving mochi donuts and bubble milk tea before going to bed and jungkook, even in his tired state, will do everything to make you happy.
word count: 5.4k
warnings: so much fluff, NO plot, jealous/possessive kook, oc can’t tell when someone flirts with her, tiny silent treatment, oc is kinda dumb, lots of kisses, shower sex, oral [m], oc’s head game is STRONG, head pusher jk, hair pulling, they went shopping for underwear, cussing, aftercare, oc is obsessed with pink/hello kitty, oc is so desperate for his cock and she must get what she wants⛄️(she was virgin before this took place), oc had a vid of her playing, mention of toys, JK is not trying to b obvious but he’s IN LOVE, brief cockwarming at the end, <not proofread>
author’s note: i def did not write this in between my classes😮‍💨 i just discovered that im mentally unhinged as im editing this in class. I have my priorities straights tho so here you go🥢
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
you suppose today was really wonderful.
you two spend almost the whole day at the outlet mall, mostly to shop clothes for yourself. you needed new pairs of undies and Jungkook being the glorious boyfriend he is, helped you shop. not only he paid for all your purchase, he also gives his opinions on certain cloth materials of what the underwear was made of. he wants to make himself useful by helping you out pick out make sure that they’re comfortable to your preference, he goes with you in the fitting room to try them on in front of him.
As you try on clothes for hours and hours in multiple shops, your boyfriend miraculously always finds a chair in the corner of each fitting room that he can rest on. a few hours later, you two arrive back at your place. jungkook initiated to carry all the paper bags you had as the two of you headed from the garage to inside your house.
soon, he began cooking the night’s dinner, which you really enjoy watching because he keeps entertaining you with his skillful talent and his humorous jokes. a quality time like this just makes you fall in love with him even more. you wish and pray that you can spend the rest of this delightful lifetime with him.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
the hands of the clock signifies 11:11, which is usually the time you drift off to sleep. except tonight isn’t a typical night, owing to the fact that your beloved lover is sleeping over at your cozy flat.
although it’s pretty late, you two are cuddled on your not-so-spacious couch, watching a kdrama that was recently released and you still have the clothes you put on this afternoon: a cute pink long sleeve crop top and a pink/black mini skirt. you also can’t forget to add a pair of thick fleece tights since it’s freezing cold outside.
you felt a sudden cravings for something in the midst of the show. you desire for something sweet. and chewy.
“koo..” you murmur, distracting your man from the show on the big screen. he redirects his focus to you as he caresses your hair with his soft, yet rough palms.
“i’m craving donuts”
“want me to go to the convenience store and grab some for you?” he suggests
“no I don’t want that, I want mochi donuts” you cutely demand
“but baby it’s too late” he said, lifting his wrist to look at his gold Rolex watch. “aren’t they close at this time?”
these days, your social feeds are just full of ads, particularly bakery places nearby your place that serve mouth-watering breads, donuts, ice creams, bubble milk tea, and the list goes on. promptly, the phone that’s sitting next to jungkook was taken by you.
“look, there’s one that’s still open till midnight” you replied, showing him the navigation to the bakery shop that’s on your screen. his tired eyes glanced at your phone, then back at you.
“please koo?” you pleaded, climbing on top of him and giving him thousands of kisses all over his face until he’s got enough is the most effective technique to persuade him. how can jungkook say no when you display a behavior like this to get whatever you want? the forever answer is he just can’t.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
You two arrive at the place twenty minutes before they close. Since it’s late at night, you can see through the big windows that there’s not many customers inside the donut shop.
“oh my, we’re finally here” you joyfully babble to yourself out loud which made your driving boyfriend chuckle. while jungkook slows down the car to eyeball a good parking spot, you reach for your pink purse taking out the hello kitty lip oil to apply them on your chapped lips.
Jungkook carefully parked the car on the side of the road. He looked at our surroundings such as the front, back, and the side of his vehicle, making sure everything seems clear before he takes off his seat belt and gets off of the automobile. As usual, Jungkook walks to the other side, gesturing that he will open the car door for me. This man doesn’t ask a lot regarding how things should be in our relationship but the number one rule he established is that you could never open any door when you’re with him.
He quickly unlocked my door with one hand and offered his other hand to assist my body getting out of the car. As you got out, you felt the strong wind blowing your mini skirts, making them move up. but jungkook immediately takes off his zip up fleece oversized jacket to tie it tight around your waist.he ensures that the skirt won’t go up by walking behind you whilst holding your cold hand towards the bakery.
a scent of sweet caramelized brown sugar that you’ve been craving welcomes you as soon as you step into the threshold of the place. Looking around the store, you notice multiple neon pink led lights of donuts are decorated in the walls. the long honey maple stained table against the windows was paired with white barstool chairs. You also did not fail to miss that their white snowed christmas tree is still up, filled with rosy ornaments and pinkish lights around it.
‘this is definitely my new favorite place’ you noted to yourself as you feel cozy inside.
Your boyfriend wasted no time to lead you to the counter, only for you to see the variety of flavor of their delicious mochi donuts displayed on the front top. you can’t help but to drool on the sight, you’re starting to feel satisfaction by just looking at them.
“hello, what can I get for you today?” the tall male server who’s probably around your age friendly greeted. a little too friendly, in jungkook’s opinion but he chose to try to shrug it off. before answering him, I turned to jungkook “what are you getting koo?” asking to know what he wants.
“don’t know. you can order whatever you want for me” he responds as his doe eyes look up to scan the menu on the screen that’s mounted in their polished ceramic walls. Jungkook is on a diet these days therefore he tries his best to restrain eating sweets but he knows that cheat days won’t hurt if it only happens once or twice a month.
turning to face the server once again, you made up your mind on what to order. “hi, can we get two brown sugar milk teas with less ice and can you make one extra sugar please” you gently requested and the server instantly punched the orders in their ipad.
you take another look at the yummy donuts before continuing. “and i would like to get a dozen of the mochi donuts.” you pointed to the biggest bakery box.
jungkook wasn’t even surprised that you’re getting 12 pieces, potentially all for yourself considering you have a sweet tooth, which could be really extreme sometimes. he stands still next to you, amused by how cute you are, getting all excited by all these sweets you’re about to eat as you tell the the guy the flavors you want.
the server hands you two of their fresh brown sugar bubble milk tea & pink box that contains lots of sugar and of course, you happiness. afterwards, he declars the total for all the things you order. you’re about to tap in your debit card that’s covered with hello kitty skin when jungkook’s black card is already approved on the chip card reader.
“you didn’t have to koo” you murmur. your man always insists on paying for everything,
“i want too”
he does things for you not because he’s going to gain something or that he’s expecting some type of return from you. Rather, he does them solely because he loves you and he loves seeing you getting all the things you want.
for the meantime ,you look for a table that you two can sit at, particularly a spot where there’s a cute background since you would like to take some photos.
immediately, your eyes spot the perfect table right next to the huge windows to sit and take pictures in. you swiftly walk over the spot and your boyfriend follows you like a lost puppy.
“kook can you take pictures of me here?” you ask, while unwrapping the thick jacket around your waist and position yourself on the stool chair.
jungkook unlocks the camera on his phone, positions the cellular in your desired angle, and clicks the white button multiple times. he casually looks at the camera screen and looks up to you. when he notices that by the way your sitting is slightly showing your ass, and instantly goes up to you to fix it. you’re confused at first by his sudden action but you soon realize why.
“oops, thank you kookie” you chortle
when he goes back to his previous standing position, he catches the same annoying server maliciously staring at you, in a way that’s very unpleasant to him, which just pisses him off more. nevertheless, he captures photos of your adorable face while attempting to drink your favorite bubble tea for the camera. then, he passes his phone so you can review the images.
‘he’s such a great photographer’you thought. these picture will be posted on your pink themed finsta.
“can we go now?” jungkook harsly rushed. this place is alright, but that fucking server is just making his blood boils. he needs to get you two out of here before he does something not pretty.
you read his sudden unusual behavior and chose not to argue. you really loved this place, but you can understand that your boyfriend is too tired and just wanted to sleep. you’ll definitely come back though.
“wait koo, I'll use their restroom first.” you excuse yourself, feeling the need to change the menstrual pad that you’re wearing, you fear bleeding through jungkook’s leather seats.
you did your business pronto. unexpectedly when you walked out of the restroom, the friendly worker corners you, with something in his hand.
“miss, would you like to have this?” He offers the cute and huge hello kitty boba plushie that is in his grip. your eyes widening as they gaze upon the lovely thing. “I noticed your phone case and I thought this is perfect for you” he shyly adds as he scratches the back of his head, pointing out the pink Hello Kitty case you have.
“sure! how much is it?” you respond with full of energy. this plush will be added to your collection.
“don’t worry about it,here” he extends the plushie towards you, gesturing that you should take it.
you look for some type of unseriousness in his eyes but you found none. he does seem nice. you accept the cute plushie that’s waiting for you to be held, hugging it really tight.
“you’re really cute. do you mind if I get your number?” the man in front of you speaks. “so i can give you more plushies for free of course” he further explains, trying to convince you to give him your digits
but you remember what jungkook once said, and that is never give any other men your number. Although you can’t grasp why he doesn’t want you to do that, you listen to him because you don’t want to get him all sad and mad at you. angry jungkook is the least thing you want to deal with. he turns really cold and you hate not getting affection from him.
“I'm sorry but I can't give you my number. thanks for this though.” you give him a weak smile. you also hate the feeling of rejecting people but you also don’t want to get in trouble.
the friendly expression that the guy has been erased and replaced with a blank expression, as if ‘no’ isn’t the right answer. he snarls before speaking “Is it because of your punk boyfriend? c'mon pretty girl he doesn’t have to kno-“
“who doesn’t have to know what?” a familiar voice cuts off the man you’re facing before you can understand what the previous man just said.
jungkook approaches you, snatching the plushy in your grasp. “where did you get this from?” he sternly asks. he might have known the answer, it’s so obvious from what it looks like, but he needs to make sure before he beats somebody’s ass.
“koo he gav-“ that was enough for jungkook to vigorously slam the plushy back onto that guy’s chest, making the man flinch and slightly back off. “look or talk to my woman one more time and things will get ugly for you” he threatens, giving the guy the most serious stare, the same stare he has when fighting in the boxing ring.
without saying anything, he grabs your hand sternly and you two walk out the store. you still didn’t get why jungkook didn’t want you to have that plushie, it was perfect to add to your collection.
the entire car ride back to your place was awfully quiet. you offer to drive back home when you notice that he’s speeding and seems so tense, but jungkook refuses, telling you that he’s fully capable of driving back with a somber tone.. his tattooed hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be placed, your thigh. but you argue no further, not wanting to make him more angry than he already is.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
hours later, you’re gathering the sleepwear you’ll wear for tonight before hopping in the shower, which is currently occupied by your boyfriend. usually, you two always shower together whenever you’re sleeping at his place and vice versa, but tonight you received no invitation from him since he’s giving you silent treatment for an unknown reason.
despite the fact, you made up your mind to join him as you enter the steamy bathroom, the warm atmosphere welcomes you while you close the door behind you.
your gaze meets jungkook’s tall muscular figure, his tattooed arm up against the white wall, while head is pointing down as the hot water that’s coming from the showerhead runs down his body.
quietly strip down your clothes, you proceed to open the sliding shower door and step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him.
jungkook faintly flinched as he felt a pair of dainty arms wrapped around his bare torso. he knew exactly who they belonged to, his loved one.
he slightly turns his head, just to see you, hopelessly showing affection towards him in the midst of washing the negative internal thoughts out of his system.
“are you mad at me baby?” you worriedly ask, overthinking that you might have done something that might upset him or maybe he’s too stressed out on his non-stop training schedule since his competitions are coming soon or maybe he can’t handle being with you anymore. lots of maybe but communication is the only way you will know how he feels.
the question of yours sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. you completely did nothing wrong. he knows for a fact you can’t say no to anyone who gives you a Hello Kitty plushie. your tiny little head just can’t comprehend that these guys want something in return for giving you things you love to collect. you’re too good for your own.
now he feels like a total idiot, another part of him feels guilty for the sudden shift in his behavior, solely because he's so in love with you that he can’t stand seeing men look at your way.
you did nothing wrong. nothing at all. you’re just so goddamn beautiful that your boyfriend is starting to lose it.
he can’t help but let the possessiveness take over him as soon as he perceives other guys showing their interest in his pretty girl. the woman he desires to keep to himself for the rest of this lifetime, the next one, and for many more
jungkook crowds you up against the cold marble wall just after he turns his buff body to face you. wasting no time, he leaves smooches on your pouty lips and jaw. “didn’t I tell you I'm the only one who can give you hello kitty stuff?” he sensually whispers to your right ear, continuing to give you wet kisses. “hmm?”
“but why?” you pout, resulting in the kisses to come to stop. he looks at you directly in the eyes, “because i’m your boyfriend and that job is solely for me” he simply explains
“but koo it was for free, he was really nice but then he started asking for my number so he could give me more but i didn’t give it to him because you specifically instructed me not to.” you mindlessly babble, explaining your side all in one sentence. simultaneously, you grab the white loofa next to the pink one and apply jungkook’s favorite body wash. it still doesn’t make sense to you. you love collecting hello kitty, but the love you have for the man in front of you is significantly greater.
oh jungkook is really going to lose it. that fucker had the audacity to ask you shit like that right when you’re with him.
“and that’s why I don’t want you talking to them, they want to take advantage of you” he takes a deep breath
“i’m sorry kook” you mutter, attempting to cuddle his naked form.
“i know something was off with that motherfucker” he starts off, “keeps looking at you in a way i don’t appreciate” he finally admits, with his tone hinting a pinch of jealousy. “and that fucking plush- he’s getting on my fucking nerves.”
“all he can do is look koo” you laugh. “Besides, I’m already cuffed by my hot boyfriend. what more can I possibly look for?” your words declaring that your eyes are only fixed to him. there’s no reason to look at other men anyways.
“you’re only mine right?” he just needs to directly hear those words come out of your mouth.
“only yours” you murmur. and that reassured him. for now.
you stand on your tiptoe to kiss his cute nose, from there you smack your lips against his as your smooth palms trace his jawline.
as seconds goes by, the desire to express how much you love him is rapidly growing. you want him. you need him.
you detach your lips against his, just to fixate them on his neck, right on the pretty tiny mole on his skin, your favorite spot. your hand does its own job to explore his sculpted body, finding its way to palm his painful growing erection.
he knows where this is going
your kisses trail from his upper chest to his defined abs; so brawny and delicious. he follows your gesture, finding you on your knees, beneath him, your beautiful face positioned right in front of his hardening cock.
oh this is the one and only circumstance he would kill and die for to be in.
jungkook knows that sly grin expression you wear as you look up with those round doll eyes. purposely, your both arms push against each other to give him a good view of your perky breast squeezed together. with his shaft twitching, can’t help but to utter an uncontrollable moan from seeing you like this.
“can I?” you ask softly, waiting for permission from him as if you’re not in this sinful position at least twice every time you two spend time together. no matter what, you still drool by just staring at his cock as if it’s your favorite lollipop.
he quietly hums and nods his head while nibbling his lip piercings, giving you the green light.
you start off slow, giving his pretty pink tip covered with precum small pecks. smearing the liquid around your lips, pretending it as if it’s one of your lip gloss, making them nice and glossy.
sweet
“i only wanna do this with you” you hungrily voice out in each swift peck while locking your seductive eyes on his.
he brings his fingers towards your jaw, lifting your chin up. “open” he commands, directing you to open your mouth. and so you did, without hesitation. a hot glob of spit falls into your tongue, which turns you on even more. you quickly swallow it and resume with what you’re doing.
he continues to watch you as your swollen lips slowly wrap his thick cock. your mouth is solely made for jungkook as it welcomes him inch by inch. although sucking him becomes a part of your daily routine, you still need to take a sweet time adjusting to his length.
irresistible tears roll down your face as he hits the back of your throat for the first few times, but you’re so determined to make him feel good. you began bobbing your head back and forth as your mouth slowly adjusted to his size.
“hmm, so good baby” he muffles weakly. “j-just like that” almost sounds as if he’s about to cry from the incredible sensation.
you can’t help but to release a quiet whine from hearing him. the steamy bathroom is filled with jungkook's angelic yet sinful groans, along with the sounds that’s being created as you which arouse you even more. he’s got your pussy clenching over nothing.
your bent knees on the cold and wet ground are starting to get tired, but you pay no attention to them. rather, you take him even more, until his tip hits the back of your throat. you continue to do it smoothly, using no hands.
you proceed to shift your attention to untouched balls. your tiny hand softly jerks off his length upward, as a trail of kisses made their way from the underside of his girthy and veiny cock to one of the oval-shaped organs. wet and loud smooches on jungkook’s sensitive skin turn to sloppy sucking. your mouth is so full of him. a mixture of his precum and saliva of yours covers your entire chin, even some of it drops on the ground.
this sequence stirs more moans from jungkook, but this time he gets louder and louder. his slender hands acts at its own and gather your length hair into a ponytail, just so he can manipulate your head, to use you however he pleases
Jungkook pulls your hair back, causing you to lose contact with the sac you were passionately lapping. he leads you mouth back to where it should give its focus to. his throbbing cock. once his dewy dick is shoved in you, he pushes your cock drunk head to take more of him. you obediently follow the flow of the hand guiding your head
“such a good girl” he grunts, throwing his head up in the air, then focusing back on you. “only for me”. your boyfriend is still controlling your head bobbing on his length.
“you’re such a slut for a fucking hello kitty, aren’t you?” jungkook mocks in between deep breaths. “me or that stupid kitty cat? huh?” thrusting his hips into your messy and well-fucked face.
you just moan against him, not even bothering to answer him because you’re too fucked, your tiny little brain is wearing out as you keep bouncing your head up and down. and also it might be because you know for a fact that you could be a slut for hello kitty too sometimes. you’re in no position to protest.
the man above you grips your hair even tighter, demanding you to answer him. “I wanna hear you baby”
“‘mmh you, o-only you koo,” you sob. lots and lots of tears coming out of your eyes. “all I want is you and this cock” you mewl weakly as you desperately lap his precious tip, just like how he loves it.
“that’s it, pretty girl, I'm cummin’” he verbalizes, grasping your head forcibly as slamming his pelvis into your abused mouth. to this point, you feel dizzy and your whole body is worn out. you grip into his beefy thighs as you allow him to utilize you like a slut.
“hmpp f-fuck” he moans loudly, releasing abundant strings of semen into your mouth. he cums so deep inside your throat. not wanting a drop to fall, you gobble up everything as your life depends on them.
after swallowing, you show him your empty mouth, with tongue being out. you can see in his half lidded eyes that he’s proud, giving you a soft smile.
you were about to get up when all of a sudden the dizzy spell hits you real hard, causing you to lose your balance but jungkook catches you before you can even fall.
“hey, you okay? Did I go too hard?” he locks his gaze upon you, hoping that you will lock yours to him too. but you didn’t as you are sobbing and trembling a little bit. jungkook wipes the dries tears on your swollen face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. he might have gone harder than you can handle.
“baby look at me please? did I hurt you? i'm sor—“
“koo i’m okay” you faintly cut his sentence off. he doesn’t need to be sorry. “just need a few minutes to recover” you explain. jungkook immediately understands that. he gives you minutes of peaceful silence, with that, he takes care of washing your body. gently rubbing the pink loofah in your smooth skin as he hums the song that’s been stuck in your brain for quite a while.
after showering, he helps you slip on your baby pink dainty nightgown. this dress is special. jungkook got it for you when he flew abroad for one of his boxing competitions. one day, he and his team were strolling around the fancy mall when he passed by a cute local lingerie store that you will definitely check out, only if you were with him. of course, he chose to follow what his heart tells him to do, to go inside and find a thing or two to give you as soon as he comes home. to you.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
both yours and jungkook’s bodies are situated on your twin sized bed. in spite of the fact that there’s not much for the two of you and one of you might fall on the ground if another moves a little, it’s not a hurdle as you two embrace each other’s warmth as if there’s no tomorrow. two bodies comfortably embracing one another. tonight, you’re designated to be the tiny spoon
“ggukie..” you murmur, hot breath fanning against his bare chest. “hmm??” jungkook looks down to see what his princess needs.
“want your cock”you weakly pleaded, causing the man to slightly chuckle. you must be out of your mind.
“baby, your body is tired” said by him, shaking his head to show his disapproval. what a silly idea that goes around your mind when your eyes can barely open. you’re really out here doing everything but to sleep. he continues to caress your soft hair.
on a side note, you and jungkook never had penetrative sex before. yes, he eats you out here and there and vice versa. but he never dares to insert himself inside you.
indeed you’re a virgin but it’s not that you never wanted to. matter of fact you’ve made up your mind and are willing to give your virginity to him. jungkook is well aware of that. however, fear of hurting you always troubles him. he’s afraid that you will go through pain, scared that he’ll break you: his fragile pretty girl
“need your cock inside me” you continue to whine. “didn’t I show you a video of me from last week taking the toy you gifted me? you said I did so well” reminding him that one video clip of you masturbating to the pink rose you got from him. how could he forget about that when he uses it to get off every single night? with full on volume too, all ears concentrate on your high pitched moans, giving him more than the satisfaction he craves. the thoughts of that makes the lust that nearly vanishes inside him linger, you just never fail to get him arouse even before going to sleep.
however, jungkook is still in his right mind. “that’s different,” he argues. it’s valid to doubt that he’ll fit.
“ok then just put it in me then we can sleep?” you beg, attempting to compromise. “just wanna feel you close while I sleep. can you imagine how much I missed you?” you’ve come to an extent to use the guilt trip tool to convince him.
he understands the emotion you’re trying to make him feel as he looks into your bambi doe eyes. looking so innocent yet begging for his cock. evoking his guilt to get what you want. jungkook recognizes you in and out, you won’t take no for an answer. also it’s not like he’s not dying to do it, as if he doesn’t fantasize about it when you sleep over at his penthouse. the amount of self control he has..
you have him on a chokehold. jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he gently lifts up the arm which your head is laying on and slightly gets up to open the pink mini cabinet on top of your nightstand, taking out a sky blue container.
“here, apply it”, throwing the lube bottle on your lap.
you’re stunned, heart excitedly does jumping jacks inside your chest. next time it will be you doing jumping jacks on his di-
“cmon cutie I don’t have all night” he blurts, interrupting your thoughts. you never get up so fast in your nineteen years of living. he goes straight back to his original position, laid on his back. he may act chill,but he’s internally pleased and aroused.
as you go down on him (again), your two hands get a grip of the band of his black boxer and pull it down, his semi-hard cock immediately springs out. you can’t help but to give it a tiny peck before giving it a few strokes as you point it towards your lips
you open the bottle up with a pop, squirting out enough lube on your fingers before gently spreading it on his tip. he hisses as he feels the cold liquid substance being applied to him. you trace the sides of his length, ensuring the reduction of friction.
he grabs your arm, guiding your body to lay down sideways next to him. a tattooed veiny arm from behind snakes around your torso, clasping your upper body.
“ready?” he whispers, as he nibbles your ear. jungkook earns longingly nods from you, and for a split moment he spreads some liquid using his lubricated tip around your private area before slowly inserting it in. you discern the penetrating sensation in your core, which makes you purr.
he continues to penetrate inside you furthermore, causing you to close your eyes and tighten your clasp on his arms as you bear with the ache. he fully aware of how you’re feeling as he’s also having a hard time moving in.
“bare with me baby” tensely reassuring you. “so t-tight, fuck.” his other arm makes its journey below your nightgown, traveling its way to your perky breast, delicately squeezing one of them. jungkook does the same and gives the attention to the other one. simultanously, he plants a few smooches on the skin behind your ear, attemping to distract you from the pain. you quietly release moans and groans as he continues. he’s inches in when he feels your wall clenching around him.
your tight pussy becomes jungkook’s personal paradise. it’s the way your walls are clenching around him is better than he imagined; unmatched from all the fantasy he creates in his mind about you.
“koo.. “ your fingers tracing the veins on the back of his palm.
“what? my baby can’t handle it? tell me and I’ll stop” he softly asks. a tear just drops from you leg but you’re too tired to even react.
“n-no just stay inside, i’m sleepy” and with that, you instantly drift to sleep.
he hums, a hand that was busy playing on your chest shifts to caress your hair. jungkook lays one last kiss at your temple.
“goodnight to you too my pretty girl, love you so much”
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targaryenluvs · 7 months ago
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LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER
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PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?
WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words
WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script
A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations HAHAH I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED MY NAME IN IM GOING TO KMS I’ve changed it now 🤣
AO3 Link
Gif not mine, credits to the owner!
Sam had first met you at a party.
A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.
He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.
Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.
Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.
He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.
Mutual friend? Check!
“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?
Had he been staring too long?
“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Y/n. Mason, Y/n.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.
He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Y/n.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Y/n/n.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.
“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”
And that you did.
For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.
Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.
He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.
You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.
Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.
You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.
The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.
No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.
But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.
The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.
The two of you had an argument earlier on.
You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”
“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Y/n/n.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!
“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”
He’s a vampire.
“Y/n, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.
“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.
Is it because you like me?
“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.
“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”
He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.
Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.
A lot can happen in thirty minutes.
His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Y/n time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”
You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.
He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Y/n/‘.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.
“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.
“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.
He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.
Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.
“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”
Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.
Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”
Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”
“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”
Fair point.
The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.
“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.
Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Y/n/n. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Y/n.” Sam cringed internally at his words.
Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”
You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.
“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.
“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.
“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”
“No.” Sam goes over to Y/n and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.
Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”
Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.
“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Y/n glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Y/n/n, excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”
Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”
“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Y/n/n.”
He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Y/n—,”
“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”
Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”
Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”
“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”
Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”
“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”
“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Y/n.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.
And God was it worth the wait.
As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.
“100/10.”
“What an honour.”
You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”
“Who, little old me?”
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ryescapades · 3 months ago
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can i request Narumi x reader but the reader is similar to Dazai(not really but i forgot who else that i could make an example of) ? Very silly and people underastimate them because of that but when the situation calls for it they're scary as hell.
Maybe Narumi underastimate them at first, and then he saw how scary they actually are but instead of going 100% scared he's like "thats kinda hot"
Maybe the reader is a captain/vice-captain of another division or a platoon leader. Also, make the personality EXTRA silly(the reader is doing it on purpose) like airhead, silly, and very naive (the reader is faking it and people actually fell for that act)
caprice | narumi gen
— three times narumi noticed you during the joint training session between the first and third divisions, slowly getting to know you from afar and the one time he inadvertently decided to fall for you (literally).
genre/warning: gn platoon leader dazai!reader, fluff, inaccurate use of scientific conditions and processes, idk if reader is silly enough here... i tried my best ok TT
a/n: uh another long fic haha thank you for the request!! dazai is actually one of my top kinnies but i'm not sure if this is even good, anon i'm rly sorry if it's not up to your standards 🥲 also here's the menace :3
3.4k wc hoshina | extra
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the first time narumi gen met you, a member he'd assumed was from the third division, the only thing that was on his mind was what the fuck?
no, literally.
because what the fuck were you doing being hung upside down in the first division's gym room, discussing about god knows what with his platoon leaders?
"wait, wait, i think i'm finally feeling it!" you squealed, arms expanding to the side to distance the others from your hanging body. "whoa! is it working, is it working?" tachibana inquires excitedly beside an entertained-looking shinonome. "are you really sure this method is even legit?" the latter added, amusement clear in her eyes.
"what the hell are you guys doing?" narumi couldn't help himself from intervening the scene, for the sheer incredulity had taken over him before he even had the time to think it over. the three of you turned to face him in surprise.
his own subordinates straightened up to give him a salute, while it took you a few minutes before you did too. "ara, if it isn't captain narumi himself," you mused. narumi only raised an eyebrow, not shocked in the slightest that you knew him as he waited for a reply to his earlier question. at that, your expression enlightened.
"oh, right! your platoon leaders here were meditating earlier and tachibana-san almost dozed off... so i suggested a method to feel less sleepy. being hung like this makes you feel the blood rushes to your head, you know? it's such an exhilarating feeling for real," you claimed, resulting in the captain to gaze at you questioningly as your thumb and pointer fingers perched below your chin almost proudly.
narumi blinked, thinking about how... odd this person— you— was. is the third division only consisted of weirdos? must be some random low-class officer meeting those two on accident, he thought, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.
it was not long after that when the first division's captain saw you again, this time in the mess hall where you were sitting with some familiar faces from the third division, which only reinforced his theory that you were indeed from the third.
"reno, have you watched the new movie i talked about before?" furuhashi asked, swallowing his food before looking at his fellow officer. "oh, the one with that famous actor from russia? no, i haven't. isn't that movie adult-rated though?" the silver-haired prodigy asked.
"whaaat? why are you children watching movies about people who play hide the salami, huh!?" kafka scolded, causing furuhashi to counter back, "who the heck even says 'hide the salami' these days, old man?!" by then you just arrived with your tray of food, hearing only one-fourth of the sentence when you took a seat beside the older man.
"oohh, are we pranking someone?" you butt in eagerly, joining in the conversation. the other three snapped their heads towards you in confusion. "prank? who said anything about a prank?" reno asked, head tilting to the side.
you smiled, blinking owlishly at his question. "hide the salami? why are we hiding food if not for a prank...?" your eyes bounced between the three men who were sharing awkward glances with each other.
narumi, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, nearly grimaced. so you're odd and... kind of an airhead, in a way. his brain concluded, simply observing when you abruptly pointed your finger at something far to the right, "captain ashiro, look! there's a cute cat over there!!" when ashiro snapped her head so fast, she realized a bit too late to catch your sneaky hand stealing a piece of food from her tray.
"hey, eat your own food!" kafka reprimanded as you happily nibbled on the stolen treasure but ashiro only waved it off, muttering about how she's gotten used to your antics by now, secretly fond of how your delighted expression itself comically resembled a feline creature.
"what are you staring at, baka shisho?" kikoru's jeer interrupted narumi's daze, causing his back to tense. "nothing. can't you go a day without being an annoying pest?" he sneers, which the girl only laughed mockingly at, though surprisingly she didn't notice that the captain was still snooping in to hear the conversation at your table, listening to the many obnoxious and bizarre (yet interestingly smart, he'd begrudgingly admit) ways you'd recommended to prank someone.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
the third time narumi saw you, it was during a joint sparring session between his and the third division. he was initially supposed to be overseeing kikoru and her new numbers weapon suit but the commotion at the central area of the training venue had snatched his, and the other officers' interest instead.
it was you, preparing to spar with hoshina, his nemesis. in hand-to-hand combat, no less. not to add the two of you were going to use real swords, not the dummy ones.
"are they serious? why would they match up against hoshina?" "i know right... they're gonna lose for sure," "yikes, i'm sending early condolences to them right now,"
narumi had to agree with what he heard his division members were whispering about. sure, he sometimes thinks hoshina's skill level is below his own, but to spar with a regular officer? the swordsman is gonna pummel you straight to the ground, no doubt!
however, his chain of thought was eventually cut off when he later noticed that you were holding on your own, superbly at that. with every hit of hoshina's blade, you'd parried with your own and every small opening hoshina had unknowingly exposed, you had taken the advantage by striking just as hard.
the rapid sounds of metal clanging against each other were loud, echoing even. it was plainly and clearly visible to him that you're not just an officer.
narumi called for his disciple, "oi. who's that training with your vice-captain?" he asked, head nodding towards where you and hoshina were still exchanging blows. kikoru glanced at the direction he mentioned before she grinned wide and cheshire-like.
"oh, them. that's one of our newly appointed platoon leaders, y/n-san! such a spectacle to behold, i know! they're from the third, after all!" she boasted. a platoon leader? y/n, huh... narumi could finally put a name to that pretty face.
wait, what? who the hell said that?
the bicolor-haired man shook his head a bit before focusing back at the fight. "what are you gloating for, dumbass. it's not like—" his sentence died midway when suddenly a particular hard swing from hoshina had struck you straight in the face, causing you to stagger backward as your block was seen a little too late to cover the blow.
the atmosphere suddenly became silent and still, narumi's eyes widening in surprise at the same time as hoshina's in guilt when everyone noticed the few drops of blood through your fingers. "shit, sorry! i didn't mean to hit ya that hard! you okay there?"
narumi instinctively took a step towards your direction when your figure started swaying, his eyes unconsciously glaring at the violet-haired man as the latter reached out his palm so that you could show him the bruise but when you gave no reply, eyes downcast and body rigid, hoshina cursed under his breath. "fuck, y/n. i'm so sorry—"
"boo!"
the unexpected sight of your mischievous, uninjured face and only a faintly sliced skin on your palm greeted the crowd. an annoyed mark appeared at the side of hoshina's head. "you cheeky lil' brat! ya had me so worried there!" he scolded, his hands pulling on your cheeks so hard your eyes watered as you whined, "but it was hilarious watching you— ow, ow, vice-captain! that hurts!"
the others seemed to relax, and a few hushed murmurs entered narumi's ears.
"the heck? what a fluke." "right? there's no way they held off for that long. the vice-captain must have gone easy on them."
on the sidelines, narumi's mouth gaped open and then closed like a fish. was that actually a fluke, or are you actually...? he was slightly bewildered, not knowing whether to acknowledge the fact that you are, in fact, such a whimsical and unserious person he almost found it quite endearing (he didn’t bother acknowledging that thought), or that it was unnoticeable by almost everyone else, but he could see the scratches on hoshina's hands and face, the nicks his RT-0001 eyes had detected were done by your sword.
they were indistinct, hardly noticeable, and barely bleeding that it just proved how careful you were in handling your blade. what's more jarring, however, was that his kaiju eyes couldn't miss the deadly and almost murderous look in your eyes when you were exchanging blows with hoshina earlier.
narumi couldn't help but to smirk menacingly as he ran a hand through his locks, feeling enraptured by the sudden realization.
so it's not just hoshina he has to beat. there's you now.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
it was another random tuesday night when the emergency kaiju alarm blared, signalling the entire headquarter of the incoming kaiju attack. in the meeting room together with the captains and other platoon leaders from the third and first divisions, you were briefly discussing strategies and plans for the neutralization process.
"so it's settled, then. two platoon leaders from each division in one sector. make sure to remember where your group is assigned and keep track of any yoju going in and out of your sector before alerting the other platoons of it. this one might get messy," ashiro summarised before everyone briskly moved out, preparing to head to the kaiju location.
narumi, who had been halfheartedly listening to the whole briefing in boredom, pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed towards the door, before noticing a lone figure standing by the desk in the middle of the room.
you were staring hard at the splayed out map in front you, hands shoved in your pockets and head tilted to the side in what narumi assumed to be deliberation. what else is there to think about when ashiro already summed up everything? the man thought before he shrugged, leaving you alone in the meeting room.
the mission was supposed to be simple. tedious, sure, but easy enough for the two divisions to handle. take down the honju, then finish off the remaining clusters of its accompanying yoju— it was said they'd go berserk when triggered by the death of the mother— that were scattered throughout the district.
well, until it's not so easy anymore.
once ashiro had shot down the honju using the explosive power of her cannon, all the yoju had indeed, gone ballistic. the battlefield was messy with all the kaiju corpses and rubbles from destroyed buildings.
appointed as one of the main firepower on land, narumi's earpiece dinged, and the voice of one of the operations officer filled his ears. "captain narumi! sector d requested for backup just a few minutes ago but we've recently lost contact with them!"
confusion took over the captain's expression. backup? these lots of yoju barely have a 4.0 fortitude, did a new high-leveled kaiju appear? oh well, another material to be used in increasing my kill count and popularity if that's the case. his mind pondered as he stepped off the dead body of the kaiju he'd just taken down, his bayonet slung over a shoulder.
"aite, on it," straight away on the move, he considered the possibilities of a bigger threat popping up, like another one of no 9's creation, for instance. narumi's expression darkened at the thought.
however, when he arrived at the site, there was no commotion at all. it was rather quiet. he would've thought that no battle had happened here, if not for the concrete debris and kaiju remains laying around. he decided to look around and survey the area, just in case the information he received was just a small miscalculation.
it was not until he realized he had walked for too long that he froze. sector d wasn't supposed to cover this much space, so why were there so many corpses outside of the neutralization area? narumi tried connecting his earpiece, only for it to let out a series of crackles. this is where they lost connection, huh? he thought.
a sudden movement to his left had him going stiff before he swiftly and sharply spun, bayonet ready in his hand. irritation took over his expression when he saw that it's just an officer. "hey, i almost took your head! be more mindful next time, will you?" he chastised, causing the officer to bow profusely, cowering away from his large weapon. "i apologise, captain narumi! i was just wondering what are you doing here... the neutralization is already finished in this part of the sector."
"haah?? operations said you guys needed backup. what's up with that?" he complained, glaring at the officer who he assumed was from the third division since he wasn't a familar face to narumi at all. "oh, that's already been dealt with! platoon leader y/n had it all planned out!" narumi halted at that, now intrigued so he told the officer to fill him in on what happened prior to the mission.
---
"psst, you two! come here for a sec," the men in question, toma and ryu turned when they had heard you calling for them a few feet away from the mixed group of first and third divisions soldiers in sector d. "yes! what is it, platoon leader?"
"mind helping me out for a bit?" as they immediately nodded their heads, you straight promptly explained what you wanted them to do. "so we just need to be on the lookout with you at the communication towers outside the sector?"
"ding, ding! that's correct! if you see a kaiju coming your way, just lure it back to your original post where everybody else is. i'll be staying back to tweak out some electricals at the radio masts." you stated.
with the yoju having a bat-like behavior, you'd theorized that they would use ultrasonic echolocation to create a radio wave disturbance that could badly affect the earpieces you're using. despite how low the kaiju's fortitude is, it's immense intellect make up for most of that small number.
that's why the yoju would've probably target the region with the densest wave energy, which is the telecommunication towers. with its echolocation and your communication devices pulsing simultaneously, they would interfere with each other and cause an overlap of frequencies. hence, communication lost between officers would highly likely happen.
"that's fine and all, but y/n-san... if the kaiju really is how you speculate it, what if there's a lot of them coming at once?" toma asked worriedly. "you'll die, of course." you simply answered, making the officers screech in horror, "WHAT??!!"
letting out a chuckle, you waved a hand in dismissal. "don't worry. if there are many of them appearing, just leave them be and return to your post,"
toma and ryu exchanged a look. "but then we'd be leaving you alone, y/n-san!" the latter wailed. at that, you hummed thoughtfully, "hm... i'll be the one dying then," you said matter of factly.
"Y/N-SAN!!!"
"how about we do rock-paper-scissors to decide who's fixing the comms?"
"this is not the time to joke around, platoon leader!"
you belted out a laugh at their unified shriek of despair. "it's fine, it's fine! put a little trust on me, yeah? if there's nothing else, i'll head on first. i'll be counting on you guys!"
---
"turned out the kaiju that emerged really did behave exactly like how platoon leader y/n had expected. i kind of felt bad for the first division officers that were assigned together with us because they weren't informed about the plan," toma, narumi had learned of his name, said.
narumi stood there, a tinge of amazement sitting in the far back of his mind at the thought of how meticulous you had been in planning your own strategies. although he was a bit annoyed that you didn't bother telling your fellow platoon leader or superiors— ashiro, hoshina, or him, even— about it. your officers were right; you could've died.
toma was about to add more when your sheepish voice in his earpiece caught his attention. "nee, nee, toma. are you free right now? or anybody, really. i've fixed the signals since it got altered again but uh, i kind of need some help with all these yoju around me," you said, not in the slightest worried about how dangerous the situation you were in right now.
in fact, you sounded like you were casually talking about fixing a broken lamp instead of trying to adjust the freaking junction boxes while being surrounded by a bunch of kaiju.
narumi zeroed in when toma cried out your name. "what? you said you already neutralized all of them, y/n-san! what do you mean there's more?!"
the first division captain immediately snatched the earpiece, completely unapologetic in his action. "your location, platoon leader?" he ordered. "i'm still at the comms towers— oya? is this captain narumi i hear?" he didn't bother answering before he was already running (not before tossing the earpiece back to its owner), leaving behind a flabbergasted toma.
when narumi eventually stepped past the metal fences enclosing the area where you were at, the rosiness of his irises detected not just the piles of dead monsters but also a horde of still-alive kaiju swarming around a radio mast. his eyes twitched, visibly annoyed now that he knew why his earpiece had been giving out static noises one too many times ever since he entered sector d.
he made a quick work of taking them down, slicing away and shooting at every kaiju that came his way. at one point, he heard a faint sound behind him. narumi was about to turn and finish off the kaiju that was ambushing him, but then there was a slight change in the air. it was heavy, and it was approaching fast.
suddenly, a figure dropped from above, plunging the kaiju straight in the core so swiftly narumi almost thought he saw a lightning strike right in front of his very eyes. with a power so dense it almost rivaled his own, the man could only stare as blood sprayed out from the dead monster, raining down on both him and you.
sweet lord, it was you.
with your personal weapon in hand, standing so gracefully on top of the corpse it had his breath stuttering in his chest.
fuck, that was so hot, narumi unconsciously thought.
you, with blood smeared everywhere on your face and suit, finally connected your eyes with his. "oh, captain narumi! i didn't think you'd actually come here," you exclaim. when he gave no reply, your eyebrows raised in curiosity. "did you get injured, captain? why are you on the ground?"
it was only then that he noticed that he was down on his knees (narumi? the narumi gen?? kneeling???), his own weapon laid at his side, neglected. what the hell? he refused to admit how powerful and magnificent you were that it had him forgetting about your little naivety, that it had him weak in the knees.
he shook himself out of his embarrassing stupor before quickly standing back up. "good... i'm good," narumi internally cursed at himself when he realized his voice quivered midway.
"anyway, what in the world was that?! your officer said you didn't inform my platoon of your little plan here!" he fussed.
"ah, that! it was a gamble actually. i didn't want to risk the lives of those who haven't worked with me enough to understand how i operate in this line of work. my subordinates knew what they were in here for," you explained, nonchalantly wiping away the red liquid from your face.
a gamble on your life, basically. narumi frowned at that. he was about to comment more when you turned away, though your face was still directed at him. "well, in any case, i think i should be thanking you, captain." you sent him a cheeky grin.
"huh, what for?"
"you said i was hot earlier. thanks!" with that, you dashed away to handle the remaining kaiju, leaving behind a flustered and rigid narumi gen as he watched you go on a killing spree.
in spite of your beauty and grace, in his eyes, you ain't no angel, no. you're a goddamn valkyrie, an ethereal being dancing with death in the middle of a bloody battlefield. and he— his heart, is a mere soldier ready and willing to be lead by you to the gates of heaven, he realised.
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jp phrases used >> おや (oya), ねぇ ねぇ (nee nee)
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
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navybrat817 · 9 months ago
Text
Focus
Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️
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A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.
It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.
With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.
Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.
Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.
His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.
Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.
A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.
The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.
You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.
The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.
He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.
Who wouldn’t fall for him?
You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.
“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.
You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.
“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?
The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”
Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”
Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”
“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”
“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”
You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.
You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.
“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”
“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”
“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”
“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.
Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”
Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.
He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”
You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.
Because why would he like you?
“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”
Which you did.
Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.
Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.
And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.
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They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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ldrfanatic · 4 months ago
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r9 for mattheo riddle pls🙏
shakin', pacin', I just need you
mattheo riddle x fem!hufflepuff!reader
r9 - "for you I would fall from grace, just to touch your face"
gonna be at the dentist office w my bf for the next three to four hours so I'm gonna try and clear out my requests <3
lowkey I was praying someone would request this for mattheo
part two anyone?
y'all I could not find where I wrote down my mattheo taglist so if you wanna be added please please PLEASE comment on this post so I can start a new one thanksss
slytherin boys works
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"y/n are you even listening to me?"
the voice of hannah abbot, a fellow hufflepuff, tore your eyes from your only slytherin friend albeit reluctantly. when you finally looked towards your friend, her mouth was turned up into a disapproving frown.
"no. I know you think he's your friend, but he's not."
she wasn't entirely wrong. afterall, you couldn't honestly say that you'd exchanged more than a few words with the boy, though it wasn't for lack of opportunity. he'd approached you on more than one occasion but neither of you ever seemed to actually speak.
really, it was because mattheo felt stumped by you. he'd spent a lot of time with different girls while he'd been at hogwarts. but when he tried to approach you, he fumbled. every. single. time. that was how he first knew you were special.
the kind of girl that made him want to face his father's wrath even though he knew that liking you would be more than enough for a crucio.
between your friends, his family, and his inability to articulate his thoughts around you, mattheo never really got the chance to talk to you.
that is, until now.
somehow, by the grace of the universe, snape had paired you with him for the d.a.d.a. project studying boggarts. you touched on them briefly in your third year but due to lupin's condition, didn't get the chance to finish them. for once, mattheo actually wanted to do schoolwork and do well on this project so you didn't resent him for a bad grade.
as class was dismissed, a hand softly grabbed your wrist.
"wait."
it was mattheo. he was actually speaking words to you rather than just sitting there and staring. it was almost unsettling if anything.
"d'you maybe wanna meet in the library after classes and..."
you smiled sweetly and nodded.
"are you sure you can handle it riddle? don't you have to be talking to someone to study with them?"
there was a teasing tone in your voice which caused mattheo's face to bloom and pink to tinge over the tips of his ears. suddenly, like a switch had flipped, a cocky smile took over his face.
"i can't help it if you take my breath away. maybe you just bring out the best in me like that."
caught off by his banter and yet undeterred, you continued.
"well we all know that you're at your best when you shut up."
you spoke the words with a teasing smile. his jaw fell promptly open at your words, completely surprised that a hufflepuff would say something like that. while mattheo attempted to collect himself, you shoved your dark arts textbook into your satchel and swung it up onto your shoulder.
"the library. tonight. 5pm sharp. don't be late riddle."
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five o'clock could not come fast enough. potions with professor scalby was simply exhausting. she was a kind enough women which was a nice change from professor snape after she'd taken over the class following his promotion to d.a.d.a., but the woman had a love for potions that you could safely say no one else in the class really shared. unless you counted hermione granger, a sweet enough gryffindor also in your year.
by the time that scalby finished gushing about the amortentia your class would attempt to brew next week, you were sure you'd aged an entire year in this class alone.
finally, after what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed. you quickly packed your books away and scurried off to the library, arriving a decent few minutes before mattheo sauntered in with an otherworldly confused look on his face.
"sorry i'm a little late. i got lost."
he spoke to you in a deep yet gentle rumble that had your heart beating a little faster in your chest. it was hard not to notice the way that he gawked at the old century library which was probably your favorite collection of books in the whole world.
"have you never been here before?"
mattheo's dark curls bounced atop his head as he shook it slowly. he looked down at his large hands with what appeared to be shame.
"i've never really taken an interest in school before."
wanting to make him feel better you gently bumped your shoulder into his as the two of you walked back towards the study tables.
"you're taking an interest now."
"in you."
his words made the both of you settle into a thick silence. though it was hard not to notice his lingered stares across the great hall or after a slytherin-hufflepuff match, it was the first time that he'd spoken words aloud that alluded to his feelings for you, and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard.
after a moment's pause, mattheo spoke again.
"i-uh, i don't know why i said that i'm sorry."
you reached your hand out from across the table where the two of you had settled down and grasped his hand in yours. you flashed him a reassuring smile.
"don't be."
abruptly, mattheo let out a strangled noise of frustration and tugged at his hair with his fingers.
"i can't do this anymore."
your heart thumped so quickly against your ribcage, you feared it might stop beating altogether.
"can't do what anymore?"
"this, y/n. i can't keep posing that i want to be your friend and do friendly things together like study at the library."
now your heart was breaking. hannah was right. mattheo riddle was not your friend and-- oh. mattheo riddle was not done speaking.
"i can't keep pretending when i want to be so much more than friends with you. when i want to do very not friendly things with you. to you. when i feel like throwing these books on the floor and yanking you across this table and pressing every part of your body against every part of mine."
instead of doing that, he stood from his seat and knelt in front of you. it felt weird to have the son of the dark lord on his knees in front of you all but begging you to be his girlfriend.
"i know i'm not the chosen one or anything and i'm never gonna be the good guy. but damnit if i have to stay away from you any longer i don't think i could stand it."
his confession stunned you into silence. how the hell could yoou possibly respond to that?
"say something, please."
a hopeful look had taken over his features. his brown eyes sparkled under the dim library lights.
"i don't care that you're not the protagonist mattheo. i would fall from grace for you."
---
<taglist>
@blobsblobician @helendeath
07.07.2024
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babybluebex · 9 months ago
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venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!
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There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count). 
It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!” 
You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. 
The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.” 
The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?” 
“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.” 
You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention. 
“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed. 
“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?” 
You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.” 
“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head. 
“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation. 
The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”
You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.” 
“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.” 
You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” 
“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.” 
“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.” 
“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.” 
“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.” 
“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?” 
You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…” 
“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.” 
“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.” 
“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?” 
The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene. 
“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”  
You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm. 
You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up. 
You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out. 
You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others. 
You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy. 
Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over. 
“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?” 
“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.” 
“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”
“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.” 
“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked. 
“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”
“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?” 
You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.” 
“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too. 
“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked. 
“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.” 
“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?” 
“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked. 
“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.” 
“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.” 
You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks. 
Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him. 
“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?” 
Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?” 
“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?” 
“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.” 
“Probably,” Angus said simply. 
You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.” 
To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” 
You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.” 
“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic. 
“No,” you told him. 
“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next. 
You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time. 
“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.” 
All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!” 
You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked. 
Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.” 
“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.” 
“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.” 
“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.” 
“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged. 
“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.” 
“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.” 
You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.” 
The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say? 
Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes. 
You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that. 
The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”
The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.
You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?” 
“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?” 
“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?” 
The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. 
You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same. 
Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?
“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.” 
You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.” 
Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said. 
“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?” 
“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.” 
You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked. 
“Do I mind what?” Angus asked. 
“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.” 
“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”
“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.” 
“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.” 
You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him. 
“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”
“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”    
“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly. 
You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up. 
“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief. 
“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”
“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”
“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?” 
“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”
“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?” 
“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.” 
“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”
“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry. 
“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?” 
“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.” 
“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”
“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.” 
You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone. 
“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?” 
“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”
“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.” 
“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!” 
“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said. 
“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” 
“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”
“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.” 
“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”
“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?” 
“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.” 
That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”
Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ. 
The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class. 
You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him. 
“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.” 
As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.” 
You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school. 
“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.” 
“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged. 
“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.” 
Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas. 
Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office. 
“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.” 
“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.” 
Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.” 
“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”
“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.” 
“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?” 
“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.” 
You nodded silently. 
“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked. 
You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.” 
“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. 
“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”
“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”
“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.” 
Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.” 
“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.” 
Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives. 
After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone. 
Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book. 
The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room. 
Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.” 
“Who?” you asked. 
“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.” 
“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” 
“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?” 
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.” 
“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled. 
“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.” 
“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”
“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?” 
Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”
“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?” 
“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”
“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?” 
“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.” 
Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…” 
“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!” 
“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said. 
“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?” 
“Anywhere but here!” 
You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment. 
You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open. 
Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great. 
But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath. 
“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?” 
“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap. 
Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently. 
“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.” 
“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked. 
“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—” 
“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.” 
“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked. 
“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.” 
“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?” 
“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.” 
“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.” 
The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway. 
“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?” 
“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.” 
“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.” 
“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 
“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”
“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.” 
“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly. 
“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.” 
“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.” 
“Shut up,” you huffed. 
“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?” 
You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room. 
Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline. 
By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep. 
That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway. 
You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily. 
“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 
“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.” 
“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.” 
You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.” 
“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.” 
“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.” 
You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.” 
“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”
“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night. 
It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”
“Would you?” your mother asked. 
“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!” 
“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked. 
“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy—  I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?” 
“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end. 
“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!” 
“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.” 
Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.” 
“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”
“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.” 
“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked. 
“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into— 
“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”
“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.” 
“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?” 
You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled. 
Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.” 
You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled. 
“Guess so,” Angus echoed. 
The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it. 
You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours. 
Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch. 
Accurate, you countered. 
Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?” 
But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!” 
“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly. 
“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement. 
“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop. 
“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”
You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.” 
You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin. 
“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.” 
Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.” 
You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard. 
You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone. 
You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up. 
“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”
You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.” 
“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?” 
Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?” 
“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.” 
On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…” 
“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.” 
You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus. 
“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.” 
If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”. 
The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”
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