#and i was like oh god i forgot to read a paper for her class

[ghostface-knight]

After years of seeing "I'm very disappointed" on report cards, and hearing "Thank God your dad can just buy your way into college" from classmates, Stephanie Lauter had accepted that she was not smart.

It wasn't that she didn't like to learn -- when she was young, she loved school. Her favorite class of science. She loved learning about the world around her, and how it worked.

Miss Tessburger would pick her up after school in her dad's black Porsche, and Steph would immediately start explaining the things she had picked up from class that day.

"Did you know that insects make up half the world's known species?" She'd recite.

And each time, she'd be met with something along of the lines of, "Stephanie, your father is very busy today, so don't bother him with this nonsense."

She thought it was the fact itself. Maybe Miss Tessburger just didn't like insects! Steph knew her father was a very busy man, and so it made sense that she shouldn't bother him unless the fact was really worth it. So she'd try history facts. She'd tell Miss Tessburger about weather phenomena. She'd explain mathematical equations which, although not groundbreaking for an adult, were quite impressive for a child of eight years old. Each time, she watched for the hint that this time, it was worth telling her dad. And each time, she recieved the same, disinterested responses.

So, eventually, she came to the conclusion that the things she was learning in school where not important. Her father was very successful, and he didn't want to hear the things she was learning, so who was to say she needed to know them?

And so she stopped telling Miss Tessburger facts on the way home from school. She stopped reading for fun. She stopped paying attention in class.

That was when her grades started getting worse, but the school didn't notify her father unless she failed a class, and he couldn't be bothered to check each time Steph brought home a report card.

In a way, it was easier to slack off. She didn't have to consider the complex concepts she used to seek out. Pretty soon, she forgot the rush of exhilaration she used to get from learning. Pretty soon, it was like she had never cared in the first place.

So no, Stephanie Lauter was not smart.

And yet, when Peter Spankoffski tutored her, he treated her like she was Albert Fucking Einstein.

"So, the domain of f(x) cannot be zero." She worked out, scribbling on her loose leaf. She looked up at Pete, expecting him to correct her. Instead, he broke into a goody grin.

"You got it Steph! Composite functions have nothing on you." He looked over her work with admiration. "I'm not sure you even need me anymore. You know all this stuff."

Steph smirked. "Maybe, but I think I'll keep you around."

She turned back to her paper, but could clearly see Pete turning bright red out of the corner of her eye.

"Ah, see, I do need you. Because I have no idea what the hell this one is asking me to do." She pointed to an equation.

Pete leaned over, and read the equation out loud. "Find the inverse of f(x) = (x/2) + 7. Oh, this one's easy." He said, grabbing a pencil and starting to write.

"Easy for you to say." Steph mumbled. "You're in the hardest math class this shit-hole offers."

Pete looked up at her. "Not true! I'm in AP Calculus, and they offer Linear Algebra." He sighed, noting Steph's unamused expression. "Look, I only said that cause I know you know this."

"I don't though!" She groaned in exasperation.

"Yes you do! How do you find the inverse of a function?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed.

"Steph, look at me." Reluctantly, Steph obliged.

Pete took her hand, and looked into her eyes with his own deep brown ones. She softened.

"Take a breath. You know how to do this, I promise. How do you find the inverse of a function?"

Steph took a breath and closed her eyes. "You- you switch x and y, then solve for x."

Pete's smile was the only confirmation she needed. "I told you that you don't need me." He said softly as she got to work solving the equation.

Steph considered it. "Either way, can you stay?"

And the doe eyes strike again. "Of course, Steph." He paused. "I'll always stay."

[gyusrose]

➵ smarty -> c.s

⚠︎ fluff ? angst? little bit of both

✎ high-school au! academic rivals to lovers

summary: Soobin and you have been at each other’s throats since forever. being the two most smart students in the school brings out the competitive side within the two of you and maybe… hidden feelings?

soobin x fem. reader

wc: 3.9k

you bounced your leg nervously as the teacher passed out the exam you took last week. you’ve studied your ass off for it, so if you get anything less than an A, you’ll be fuming.

your heart started beating rapidly as she got closer to your seat.

“good job Soobin, the highest score in the class.” she said handing it to him.

the highest score?

that means…

“so close _______, almost a perfect score.” she said handing you the mediocre paper.

97%

you peaked to see Soobin’s score, reading 100%

“how’s that possible? that’s not how the grading scale goes.” you asked evidently confused.

“you forgot the date sweetheart.” she softly said, making you almost burst right on the spot.

you’ve missed the fucking date?

you wanted to slap her after she said those words.

‘can’t she just check the fucking calendar for fucks sake?’ you whispered silently to yourself.

you the heard a chuckle from in front of you.

the ‘Mr. perfect score’ turned to look at you teasingly.

“must suck _______, it’s always something isn’t it?”

“oh shut up, you’re not smarter since i didn’t get a question wrong so lower your damn ego.”

“sureeee…don’t be surprised when i’m the one that gets into Yale and not you.” he said before turning back into his seat.

that fucking asshole. it’s not fair, he probably doesn’t even work as hard as you, pulling all nighters before an exam, wether it’s worth 5% or 50%.

the bell finally rang and you were the first one up your seat on your way to lunch.

sitting down in the patio of the school under a tree, you took out your notebook and laptop.

every spare time was an academic advantage for you, you didn’t waste in friends, too focused on your grades , you never bothered making them, even less on a boyfriend.

you could care less what people thought of you, a bitch, stuck-up, a know-it-all, whatever.

you simply care about your future.

and no, you weren’t forced by your parents or anything, since you only had your mom ( since your dad was unknown to you) she never forced you into being a ‘star student’ she was pretty chilled back and was pleased as long as you weren’t failing.

you were just immensely smart, and competing with Soobin drew you in even more.

talking about Soobin…

a soccer ball threw down your hydro flask making you snap your head up, knowing exactly who it was.

“ayo, pass the ball!” Soobin said smirking.

to make it even worse, Soobin was the soccer team’s captain, of fucking course.

you ignored him and went back to your laptop, putting your headphones back on.

you could feel him coming your way. he tapped your head for which you annoyingly looked up at him.

“the ball.”

“get it yourself, you threw it.”

“still annoyed at that 97% ?” he chuckled.

you didn’t respond making Soobin unknowingly angry. the one thing he hated the most was being ignored, specially by you.

“you know , you should join a sport, universities like that.” he said knowing this would grab your attention.

“ew no, sports are gross so i don’t do them. i prefer killing myself doing every academically possible than that.”

Soobin chuckled in disbelief. god you’re impossible.

unlike you, Soobin was an extrovert to the maximum. he was extremely popular, threw parties all the time and had fun, yet he was somehow just as smart as you were.

he didn’t seem to put too much work into studying either, he just had a picturesque memory.

“do you realize that schools want a personality? you getting perfect grades in classes isn’t enough.”

“i do a hell of a lot of volunteering and got a internship these past two summers.”

“you know what’s cooler though? being captain of the soccer team.” he threw a laugh but you remained expressionless.

he loved to annoy you, he loved the fact that you wouldn’t pay attention to anyone else but him.

truth be told, he had the fattest crush on you. ever since freshman year when this whole competition started. you were easily the prettiest girl on campus. the only way to get your attention was to challenge you and drive you insane he guessed.

sure you knew you were pretty since you get asked out by multiple guys every year, by that didn’t get to you. who cares if you’re pretty if you fail your finals? (gilmore girls who?)

this may sound cheesy but there was truly no girl like you. you were independent and committed, and that was hard to find.

thankfully he left grabbing the ball and kicking it to his friends who were waiting for it.

you rolled your eyes going back to what you were doing.

meanwhile as Soobin went back to his friends..

“bro when are you going to finally tell her?” Taehyun asked the taller boy.

“never, she’ll never know.”

“but what if she also likes you back and you’re just overthinking it? you’re gonna let that opportunity go to waste?” another one of his friend, Yeonjun said.

“will you guys stop? i’m not going to embarrass myself like that.”

>>

“yes mom, i’ll be back by 5.” you said before heading outside to your car.

you just found this volunteering opportunity nearby, at a church. pretty much just helping around which is great for you because this will only add to the great amount of volunteer hours you already had.

you obviously didn’t only do it for the hours, you liked helping around, you’ve been at hospitals, food banks etc.

as you got there you introduced yourself to the employees and they gave you something to do immediately.

as you were helping picking the trash from outside, you heard that annoying deep voice that could only belong to one person and one person only.

“thank you, i’ll start right now” Soobin said grabbing one of the trash bags and heading outside.

he saw another figure which was already looking at his direction.

isn’t this fun?

Soobin didn’t mind it, at all. but he could tell you did.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you?” she said in between her gritted teeth.

“aw c’mon it’s not that bad! i know you secretly enjoy.” he does, that’s for sure.

“you wish, i’d rather be alone.”

“let’s try to get along, for once?”

“or….you know what? you could just not talk to me. problem solved!” she said smiling at her own response.

“nah that’d be too boring, you’re fun to annoy.”

“just pick the damn trash up.”

Soobin, not wanting to start you up, for once obeyed and started picking up alongside of you.

suddenly a young woman came up to the both of you, asking you if you’re willing to look over the little kids in the daycare served inside the church for a couple of minutes.

“the two of us?” Soobin asked.

the lady nodded in desperation.

both Soobin and yourself looked at each other thinking if you’re going to be able to handle each other’s presence.

“sure we’ll do it.” you said without having confirmation from Soobin.

it’s only a couple of minutes right? besides it seems like an easy job.

oh how wrong you were…

when you thought kids, you didn’t think they would be acting like literal toddlers. they looked old enough to know what they’re doing, so why are they acting like two-year-olds?

they were running, screaming, fighting, throwing stuff. whoever does this job regularly doesn’t get paid enough.

Soobin and you were trying all you can to ‘calm them down’ as much as possible.

“Soobin they’re crying.”

“_______ they’re fighting.”

“Soobin they’re running.”

“_______ they’re hungry.”

the both of you almost forgot about the fact that y’all were at each other’s throats in the beginning.

the lady that initially told us it was only going to be a ‘couple of minutes’ has already been gone for half an hour.

“_______! i found the solution to this.” Soobin

you snapped your head at his direction, desperate to find one .

“Look.” he pointed at the small group of toddlers sitting in front of him while he held a book reading it. they seemed the calmest one could get.

how on earth did Choi Soobin find a solution faster than you?

you mama he to gather the rest of the kids towards the small group turning it into a whole group reading .

you started in awe, as Soobin softly read the book. his voice, was….calming? you never noticed til’ now.

for once you were admiring him.

“_______, you wanna read now?”

you thoughts snapped out of you and grabbed the book and read a few pages as well.

Soobin would never say this out loud but god how smitten you had him. he kept thinking about his friend’s remarks .

should he confess to you?

i mean y’all were seniors already, technically the last chance to do it.

but the thought of rejection blew it. he knew you were aggressively and bluntly honest, it scared him thinking about what your response could be.

“i’m back! sorry for the long wait, you guys can go now.” the lady that left you here with the mini monsters came back making you sigh in relief.

you didn’t even respond and headed out. although you initially wanted to stay the whole day, the kids sucked the energy out of you, now all you wanted to do was to go home.

“_______!” lord.

“why are you going in such a hurry, i’d thought you’d want to stay longer and help?” Soobin said catching up to you.

“well i’m not, i just want to go home, that’s it.”

before you could go he spoke once again.

“you want to catch some lunch? my treat.”

“please Soobin, just let me go home, my bed is waiting.”

Soobin watched as you walked away from him. sometimes it occurred to him that you were just cold-blooded or something.

>>

“HA! look at my perfect 100% compared to your lame 95%” you said almost shoving your paper down Soobin’s face.

he rolled you eyes at your words. “you just got lucky, i don’t care.”

he did.

this was very much intentional. he purposefully got a question wrong, hoping the fact that you got a higher grade than him would lighten your mood and drag you out of your sulkiness.

“aw, don’t get a grumpy Binnie, you’ll get there.” you said getting dangerously close to his face making Soobin panic.

you had no idea of your impact as you happily grabbed your backpack and exit the classroom.

Soobin let out the breath he’s been holding in as you walked out.

his heart rate was going crazy.

once he calmed down, he got up from his seat but was soon stopped by his teacher.

“Soobin’ may i have a word with you?”

shit. what did he do?

Soobin stood in front of him as he grabbed the test from his hands, showing him the problem he got ‘wrong’.

“you know i’m curious, how come you got this problem wrong when we learned it in the first unit and is by far the easiest one here? what’s weirder is that all your work is right and only the answer is wrong..”

caught. what does he respond to that?

“erm… i just forgot to find the final answer and guessed..”

“really? you’ve always aced this class, it surprised me, is it something to do with ________?”

HOW DID HE GET TO THAT CONCLUSION SO FAST? WAS HE THAT OBVIOUS?

“NO! i mean, no why would you think that?” he tried his best to deny it, although we all know..

“you’re always making her be second best in class and suddenly you get a question ‘wrong’ which you could do with you eyes closed and now she’s first.”

he should’ve just left the question blank.

“professor trust me, she’s the last reason regarding my performance.”

>>

meanwhile, you were in your monthly meeting with your college counselor.

you’ve already done your whole application for Yale done, you just had to check in to get your counselor’s blessing to send it.

“very very well _______, you took my corrections and applied them flawlessly, i truly believe you have a really big shot at this.” she told you making you squeal in excitement.

since you’re going for early decision, it urged you to send it right away.

“thank you so much! i spent most of my nights trying to perfect it, oh and by the way, do you know if Choi Soobin has already submitted his application?” you knew it was some sort of invasion of privacy but you were curious.

“i don’t believe so, many student do regular decision so you’re one of the first.”

“guess who just sent their application to Yale?” you said as you approached Soobin.

you would most definitely never do this but the anticipation to make him feel less than drew you in.

“you did?! someone’s eager i see.”

“when are you doing it?”

“my appointment with my counselor is tomorrow, so i guess that’s when.”

Soobin loved seeing you so ‘uplifted’ he tried as hard as he could to not stare at your stunning eyes, he could tell how much this meant to you.

“i might go to your room at night and delete your whole essay so you can’t apply haha.” she said before walking away.

‘shit’ he thought to himself, he shouldn’t feel this much affection towards you, knowing you probably don’t like him back, he’s trying to let his little crush go, but how can he when you’re everywhere, impossible to not think about.

>>

december came in a blink, and the early decisions are coming out tomorrow , although you were confident in yourself, a part of you was still in doubt. with Soobin applying as well, he could easily take your spot knowing how selective the university was.

you were walking to a meeting you had with a teacher while Soobin was preparing for the last game of the season.

running onto the field while the rest of the team trailed behind him. the audience was packed as usual. he looked around seeing if you were around.

and as always, no sight of you. he’s not surprised but he did want at least for you to come at the last game , but knowing you that’s asking for snow in a desert.

gosh why was he even worrying about it? you guys are barely even considering ‘friends’ why would you be here. he was thinking so much about it that he didn’t even notice the game starting as he saw the ball pass right through him, earning a scream from his coach.

Soobin was clearly bothered. he was playing differently than how he usually does and everyone on the field noticed it. he was aggressive for the first time in his life, shoving pushing and doing intentional fouls.

it went down when an opposing player took it very personal. Soobin caused him to trip and fall to his face, making the other player mad as hell and shoved him harshly earning a harder shove from Soobin, soon a big fight started on the field causing both Soobin and the other player get a red card.

Soobin was livid. as soon as he left the field he looking for the player and started throwing punches.

it wasn’t until the coaches came over and separated the two.

“SOOBIN ARE YOU INSANE WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Soobin didn’t respond, he just shook the coach’s hands off him and walked away from the scene.

he wasn’t looking at where he was going, all he wanted was to get away from everyone .

that was until…

“the hell is- SOOBIN?” of course it’s you.

Soobin tried to hide his bloody nose but failed miserably as you already saw it all.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHO DID THAT TO YOU?” you couldn’t believe it, Soobin? in a fight? he was a lot of things but violent wasn’t one of them.

“just leave me alone.”

“no! come one let me clean you up, those cuts could get infected!”

you grabbed his hand and led him to the nurse’s office, since it was after school, no one was there.

you quickly found a first aid kit as Soobin sat down with his head down, not wanting to look at you in the eyes.

“don’t put your head down, that’ll make more blood come out.” you said grabbing his chin, lifting his head up.

even in the state he was in right now, he still felt his heart almost explode at your touch.

“now can you tell me what happened ?”

“i guess i was just very overwhelmed and started to play dirty and got what i deserved.”

you frowned, wasn’t this his last game? how could he throw it away like that?

“what was making you act like that?”

Soobin hesitated, he couldn’t just say ‘you’ even though that was the clear answer.

“just school and college decisions i guess” you frowned once again, Soobin never was the one to ‘stress’ about school like that, he was smart, specially to the point where it affects his performance on the field.

he could feel you don’t believe him, but what else can he say?

you kept cleaning up his wounds and put a cute little bandaid over them.

“there, we’re done.”

you said putting away the first aid kit.

“thank you _______, i really appreciate it.” he said grabbing your wrists and turning you to him.

you two were now dangerously close.

and for the first time, you couldn’t speak. like words were caught in your throat at the closeness of his face.

you both stared at each other with out anyone saying a word. Soobin leaned closer and closer, to the point where you could feel his breath.

just as you were about to kiss, you snapped out of it. moving away completely.

“erm..i uh have to leave.” you quickly said before grabbing your bag and leaving.

Soobin sat there, frozen. what did he just do?

he fucked up.

>>

you laid in you bed, the scene replaying in your head. why did you actually want the kiss him? why did you secretly hope that he would’ve just smothered you into a kiss?

urghh, you were conflicted. you’ve never felt like this, literally.

no guy has made you speechless like he did. and you hated it, how could you fall for him?

no you didn’t, you’re not falling for him. it was just in the moment, yeah that’s it.

you knew it wasn’t. completely forgetting how your future’s revealed tomorrow.

>>

shitshitshitshit

one click and you’ll know. your heart is almost beating out of your chest. your confidence nowhere to be found.

‘relax, if i don’t get in, there’s still other options.’

you swallowed your breath and hit refresh.

you slowly opened your eyes and read the first sentence.

Dear ______,

Welcome to Yale University…

YOU GOT IN!!!!

“I GOT IN” you screamed in enthusiasm making the whole cafeteria look at you in confusion.

you ran out of there and into your counselors office.

“I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN!!!!”

“congratulations sweetheart i knew you could do it!” she said engulfing you into a hug.

trying to catch your breath for a couple of minutes you sat in her office talking about it. you texted your mom earning another congratulations from her as well.

there was another person you wanted to tell, but you didn’t have the balls to.

wait? he didn’t get in or did he? they would accept the both of us, specially in early decision. but how? he’s literally the ‘it’ student.

“do you um.. know if Soobin got in by any chance? we’re the only two applying early…”

the counselor looked at you in confusion.

“i’m sorry, but i can’t display that type of information since it’s personal.”

shit now you have to ask him yourself.

you looked for hi everywhere, until finally founding him in a bench near the tree he once threw a ball at you.

you took a deep sigh and tapped his shoulders.

he looked up and widened his eyes.

he wasn’t expecting you to come up to him, not at all.

“hey um, have you checked the ivy decisions? how did it go?” this was the nicest you’ve ever been to him, stunning the both of you.

“well…i’m actually..i got a scholarship..to Princeton.” he calmly said making you eyes widened.

of course he did, if anyone did it would be him.

“holy shit that amazing! i got into Yale as well, so good for the both of us!” you couldn’t believe you’ve beat him.

in reality Soobin didn’t even apply to Yale, he knew how much of dream it was to go there and he realized that he was going to apply, your chances would’ve slimmed so he didn’t. it wasn’t like it was his dream school anyway, he only said it to have something to talk to you about, something in common.

“still beat you though.” you teased trying to forget whatever happened yesterday .

“i actually didn’t even apply to be honest.” your looked at him flabbergasted. he didn’t? isn’t that what we’ve been fighting for years?

“wait what ?why?”

“you dreamed of going to Yale and me applying would just add more competition, so i didn’t and now you’re going.”

you couldn’t believe it. he did that for you?

“thank you Soobin, for not taking my place.” you softly laughed as well as he.

you don’t know what came over you, but your emotions were all over the place and this just did enough of it.

you kissed him. yes, you kissed Soobin.

you grabbed his face connecting both of your lips.

Soobin was confused, very shocked, but easily gave in.

he’s been dreaming of this for years, it’s finally coming true. his whole mood changed in a split second.

soon you hands were now on his neck while his at you waist. forgetting the fact that y’all were in public, it kept going as he depend the kiss driving you harder.

soon to the cause of oxygen, you pulled away.

you looked at each other in pure bliss. you saw different now, before he was an annoying prick, menace to society and now he was a gorgeous man that made your legs weak.

“______, i know this could be too soon but fuck it, it’s my last chance, would you maybe want to be mine? like my girlfriend?” he nervously said, even though y’all just had a full make out session, he wanted to make sure you felt what he did too.

“are you kidding? of course Soobin, i’d love to be yours.” you said giving him a peck, showing his bunny smile making you melt.

“i see i’m going to be making many trips to Connecticut and you to New Jersey now.”

[int-writersmind]

The Quid Pro Quo

Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)

Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭

Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.

It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late. 

You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.

God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-

“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.

You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.

“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”

“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone,  A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”

“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”

“What about theories huh?”

“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”

“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”

Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.

 Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness. 

“You ok?” Peter asks.

You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.

“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”

“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.

“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”

“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”

He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”

Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein. 

~

“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”

“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.

You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”

“But…”

“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”

“You got all of that from my paper?”

“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”

“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”

“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”

You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”

“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”

Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”

Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.

Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”

You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”

Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”

~

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”

“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.” 

“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”

You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”

A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.

You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”

“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”

You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”

You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.

“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.

“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”

“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”

“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”

“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red. 

He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.

“Shoot.”

“Can I kiss you first?”

Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.

You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”

Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance. 

The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.

He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.

“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”

“You have no idea…” 

He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. 

You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running. 

“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”

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

Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!

masterlist

[kira-broflovski]

Sleepover || Kyle Broflovski x Reader (2)

NOTE: characters are aged up to high school in this!!

Part 3

summary: you only intended to stay for a little bit and study with kyle in order to make it in time to wendy's sleepover, but you simply lost track of time

Kyle felt like he was short-circuiting. From his newfound confidence to the grateful hug you gave him, he just can't believe that really happened.

On the way to his next class, he opened the piece of paper to discover it read "text me" followed by your phone number.

"Fuck yeah!" He yelled out of excitement, not even caring about the weird stares he received.

"Dude, what happened?" Stan's voice called out from behind him. Kyle was too excited to say anything so he simply shoved the little note in his face as he slightly bounced on his feet. "Oh my god. You did it."

"I know!"

"You crazy son of a bitch." Stan was happy for his best friend, despite the lack of enthusiasm in his tone. "You actually got her number."

"I know!" Kyle repeated, practically grinning from ear to ear. "I still need to add it to my contacts."

The boys sat down in their usual seats next to each other while Kyle was hyperfixated on his phone and making sure he typed in the right number.

"What's up with him?"

"Is he okay?"

"Why is he staring at his phone?"

Many classmates were concerned for Kyle as they all noticed he was more jittery and excitable than usual, but the class itself felt like it was going too slow.

Halfway through, his phone buzzed.

"Mr. Broflovski, turn your phone on silent." The strict teacher snapped.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to leave the notifications on." Yes he did.

"Whatever." The teacher turned back to his computer to do more boring work, while Kyle saw this as an opportunity to check the notification.

It was you!

"i forgot to ask, which house are we studying at?"

"mine? my little brother has swimming lessons n my parents are both at work"

"sure :)"

He stared at your last message, immediately imagining the smile that made him feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside.

This was going to be the longest lesson ever.

When the bell rang, he dashed out of his seat so he could be the first one out the school. Obviously, he wasn't. But it's the thought that counts.

You texted him saying you were on your way out, and his heart started pounding in his chest. He pretended to look busy on his phone in case you got weirded out that he was staring from afar.

"Kyle!" You called. He looked up as if he didn't know you were already outside, trying to play it cool.

"Y/N!" He smiled widely back. So much for playing it cool. "Shall we?" He motioned his hand in another direction, the path towards his home.

The two of you were walking in silence, not an awkward one as there was no tension, it was more apprehension. You always wondered what his home looked like, and more specifically, what his bedroom looked like. Is it messy? Or tidy? Does he collect and hoard things? Or did he take the minimalistic approach?

So many questions yet to be answered.

Thankfully, the walk wasn't long. Although, Kyle did take you down the longest path in hopes of spending more time with you.

"Welcome to the Broflovski residence, Miss L/N." He bowed as he opened the door and held it open. "Ladies first."

"Why thank you, Mr. Broflovski." You stepped forward into the surprisingly large house this boy called home.

A stupid grin grew wider on your face because seeing him slowly become his nerdy self around you was heart-warming.

You remember watching him from afar, playing with his friends in whatever imaginary game they could think of. How you wanted to join in so badly. Instead, you wasted your time making meaningless lists with the girls.

"We can go up to my room," Kyle stated, bringing you back to the present. Only to realise what he just said. You didn't say anything and simply raised your eyebrow at him.

When he heard no vocal response he turned around, your facial expression only making him more confused.

"What?"

"Your room, huh?" You couldn't stop the smirk on your lips the same way he couldn't stop his cheeks getting redder and hotter.

"Don't make it weird, dude!"

"Relax, I'm joking."

"H-here, I'll show you up." He hastily made his way up the stairs, signalling for you to follow him.

"What a gentleman," you snickered.

Kyle jokingly groaned in response, which only made you laugh more, but on the inside there were fireworks exploding in his chest. Even the sound of your laughter made him weak in the knees.

Awkwardly, he showed you his room and you pointed out all the photos of him in different situations and with family members or close friends.

"Anyways, I'm gonna go grab us some drinks and snacks then we can get started. Does that sound good with you?" He looked at you for confirmation.

"Yeah, of course!" You beamed that infamous smile of yours, the smile that he just couldn't get enough of.

The next couple of hours went surprisingly quickly thanks to Kyle's intelligence and your perseverance.

Currently, you were both studying independently when a scoff from you broke the silence. Kyle looked up at you slowly, appreciating the moment before you looked at him, as it gave him time to admire your face close up for once.

"These textbook jokes are so stupid," you snorted.

He gestured towards the book, so you turned it around so he could read it. You watched as his eyes scanned the page before his face creased out of second-hand embarrassment for whoever wrote that.

"Oh god."

"I know, right?"

"Who would even find that funny?"

"Probably a try-hard with straight As."

"Probably," he shook his head. He looked back up at you to see your eyes wandering aimlessly around his room. "We should take a break. My hand hurts from this stupid ass book."

"Agreed." You stood up to stretch in front of the window, and that's when you noticed something in the garden.

"Kyle!"

"I'm right here you don't need to yell." The sudden exclamation of his name startled him. "What is it?"

"You have a treehouse?" You pointed outside, marvelling at the mighty fortress that still stood after all these years.

"Yeah?" He stood up and walked over to then follow your finger to where you were pointing. "Why?" He asked as he looked down at you. You were pulling the best doe eyes you could, and Kyle thought he was going to have a heart attack due to how cute you are.

"Do you want to go in it?" He asked, trying so hard to act as if he doesn't want to just kiss you right here right now.

"Can we?" You continued to stare at him.

"What's the magic word?" He decided to tease you as a way of trying to make it even for the teasing he endured earlier.

"Please, Kyle." You clasped your hands together to commit. "Can we please go in your treehouse, Kyle?"

The way you said his name was music to his ears, and it really got his imagination going. It wasn't just his face that had more blood flowing in it than usual.

"Begging, are we?"

He doesn't know where this surge of confidence came from, but seeing you plead for something was so cute yet so hot.

"If that's what it takes," you said, exasperated, and got closer to him. Your faces were inches apart. Both of you were internally freaking out.

He waited a couple seconds, just to savour this moment, before responding.

"Alright, I can't say no when you make that face." He rolled his eyes jokingly before leading the way again.

"I'll keep that in mind." You grinned to yourself.

"I shouldn't have said that."

"It's too late now, Kyle."

"Oh, great."

He knew he wasn't really complaining, if anything he'd love an excuse to just stare into your eyes. Especially if you say his name the same way you just did all the time.

What's going to happen in the treehouse?

----

note: I'll write part 3 ASAP. this was only meant to be a 2 part story, but I got carried away in both 😭 the wattpad author I used to be is still me ig

currently writing from my break at work, hope you guys enjoyed!!

taglist: @weridpersonhelp

[mollyrolls]

@guitarstringed-scars asked me about my art. so im gonna talk about my art.

sneak peaks before i RAMBLEEEEE. also hand reveal i guess.

sculpture is my absolute fav medium and my specialty, so i don't have a ton of like paintings or drawings but im taking some painting classes this year so hopefully ill get better at that.

i started doing basic level ceramics in high school, made some mid boxes and jewelry trays and then i realized, oh fuck this is really fun. lets go a little crazy.

i made this little pitcher, which in retrospect isn't all that exciting but i was just so excited about it. because i realized i could do this and be successful at it if i tried? idk this was the start of it for me so ill love this little pot forever.

the big project for this class was to make a bust (a stupidly ambitious project for a bunch of high schoolers but alr) and i went innnn. i made an Athena bust that i was so so proud of and still am. don't talk abt the lips or nose that's a sore spot. BUT I FUCKING FORGOT TO CUT A HOLE IN THE NECK SO IT EXPLODED IN THE KILN. worst day of my life.

then i made this coffee mug to cope bc i love snoopy. i loved him before he was cool do not fucking touch me when it comes to snoopy

uhhh then i took a year off LOL

went to college, signed up for sculpture bc i missed doing ceramics but i came to find out WE DIDNT HAVE A KILN. i was so mad but i stuck around in the class bc the prof was funny. thank god i did!!

our first project was to make an object completely out of cardboard, so i made a little wood clamp. i love her, shes so fun. the spring is fully functional too!!! like it moves up and down. and the covers come off too. i spent overtime on this for no reason but things started clicking with this one.

then we were supposed to do something with light, so i made a paper mache jellyfish. my life fucking sucked at this point in time so im not the proudest of it but i still think its cool so

and then. my magnum opus. MY CROWN JEWEL. THE BEST THING IVE EVER MADE IN MY LIFE.

i went so stupid on this project its crazy. i made a plaster mold of my hand and then cut a line through it so i could slide a page of a book through it, and then i spent A WEEK AND A HALF DOING MATH so that i could make the pendulum for it. the counter weight is a stack of all the most influential books in my life, and the one being read is my fav book of all time, the secret diary of hendrik groen. AND IT FUCKING MOVESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i love this project so much. its what made me decide to fully go into the studio arts minor. and just to flex bc i love it so much, the dean of the school of arts has it permanently displayed in their office HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

thank you for listening to be yell for this long. i love sculpture so much. find something you love and just go ham on it your life gets so much better

[novashelby]

Evie: The Younger Years-Chapter 4: Grace Who? Part II

Summary: Evie may have forgotten something important at 11:00 Pm. Tommy tries to bake and Grace is forced to save the day.

Warnings: Swearing? None

LINKS (You can also read this chapter below, though please consider leaving a kudos on Ao3):

Ao3

Wattpad

I hope you enjoy this funny little chapter. Remember that while I find likes so kind and sweet, reblogs and comments really help us authors out.

Evie had a tendency of forgetting things. Especially when they have sunk into the deep pit of her school bag. What once was a crisp, clean, and unwrinkled piece of paper, was turned into something illegible. So many creases and wrinkles, the ink was worn off. But Evie knew what it was…and Tommy was not going to like it. She was supposed to be in bed, nightgown on and hair pinned. She took her little fuzzy slippers and the paper, and shuffled her way to her daddy’s bedroom. The ticking clock on the wall said it was half past ten. Evie knew her father well enough to know that he wasn’t sleeping, certainly at such an ‘early’ time. But he was certainly sitting up, writing things down and recounting the mess in his head.

Evie listened first before knocking, but she never waited for him to answer. Sticking her head through the crack of the door, she whispered, “daddy.”

He’d been leaning over his tiny room desk, papers organized in neat piles. A pen was dangling from his lips. Off to the side, an ashtray, swirling with smoke. Under his breath, he mumbled, “that lasted a night.” He was referring to her being a big girl and wanting to sleep on her own. “C’mon, love,” he said, undoing the bed covers for her. “But I’m telling you, tomorrow night-what?” Evie shook her head and handed him a ball of…what is that a paper? He couldn’t make it out. “What is this?” he asked, already dreading. With his finger tips, he winced as he unfolded it. “Never mind what it is, what happened to it? Evelyn!”

She offered a tiny little smile. “I forgot to give it to you last week. It’s from Sister Francis-”

“Evie, I can’t read the fuckin’ words, love!” he groaned, taking it to his desk, flattening it out and reading it under the oil lamp. “Bake sale…what, you want some money for it? You get sweets at home-”

“Daddy, no!” she said. “I have to make something. Sister Francis said our class is fundraising for the needy-”

Tommy was stumped. “The needy? We are the fuckin’ needy-oh my fuckin’ God, Evie, when do you need this by?” He could tell by her eyes that it was tomorrow. As in the next day. As in the day that was roughly an hour and a half away. “Evelyn!” He waved the paper in front of her, brow cocked, pointing with the cigarette wielding hand. “You are telling me, you need to bake something for tomorrow? And you’re only telling me this now? Evelyn! Where in the fucks’ name do you expect me to buy anything? Love, daddy can’t take stuff from his bloody fuckin’ arse-”

“Daddy!” she whined, pouting and folding her arms. “You’re yelling at me-”

“I’m stressed now!” He cut her off, falling to the bed and rubbing his forehead. “Alright, let’s go downstairs. Your aunt has to have some sugar and flour…hopefully butter-ah, fuckin’ ‘ell. Down to the kitchen, Evie.”

In the kitchen, they both opened every cupboard. Tommy scratched his head before grabbing the flour, butter, and sugar. “I think this goes in there, too,” he hummed, grabbing vanilla then molasses. “Something…we can make something, right?”

Side by side, they stood, scratching their heads. Evie looked up at him, “daddy, have you ever baked anything?”

He thought for a moment before saying, “no.”

“We’re fucked-”

“Evelyn!” he scolded before agreeing. “We’re fucked-where are you going?”

Evelyn was making her way to the stairs when she turned around and said, “you’re a lost cause. I’m waking Aunty Polly up-”

“No,” he said. “Come back here. We don’t wake her up unless it’s an emergency.”

“It is-”

Tommy raised his finger. “No, no this is not an emergency. Your negligence does not constitute an emergency, Evelyn.” She blinked for a moment before asking what that even meant. “There is a dictionary over there, love…I’ll be back.” He went up the stairs and walked in on his brother. “Do you know how to bake?” Arthur was laying on his back, eyes closed, mouth open as he snored. Tommy stared before kicking the wooden bed frame. Arthur startled awake, sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

“What the bloody fu-”

“Can you bake?”

“What!?”

Tommy sighed. “Do you know how to fuckin’ bake? Y’know…biscuits, cakes, sweets-”

“What has gotten into your fucking head?” Arthur asked. “I was sleeping, y’know?”

“Evelyn, once again, did not give me a crucial piece of paper. Tomorrow, she has to bring something to school for something bake sale for the needy-”

Arthur motioned around his room. “We are the fucking needy-”

“So, I’m asking, do you know how to bake?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” he agreed, nodding. “Let me just get up and put on my bakers hat-the fuck world you live in, Tom?! Do I look like I know how to fuckin’ bake?”

“Quite frankly, no, but I’m a bit desperate right now because if I don’t do this, that fucking bitch at the school is going to nag me…again.”

“Afraid of a nun?”

“No, not a nun,” he said, clearing his throat. “Mother Superior is-”

“You're afraid of a nun,” Arthur said, swinging his legs on the other side of the bed and grabbing his house coat. “How hard can baking be?”

Hard. Especially when no one measures or weighs a single ingredient. All three stood there, watching the oven. There was a tiny, tiny glass window to peek through, but nothing like the ovens of today. Covered in flour and sticky, they were afraid to open it. “We fucked up,” Arthur said.

Tommy agreed. “It’s fucking awful-”

“Fuck.”

Arthur and Tommy looked down at Evie, mouths agape. Tommy said, “Evelyn!” He sighed and opened the oven door, a poof of smoke engulfing them. “Ah, Jesus fuck!” he cursed, waving his arm. “How is it burnt and still bubbling!?” He threw the oven shut and had enough of it.

Arthur opened it a crack before turning to Tommy, “I don’t think the milk belonged in there…I think that is what’s bubbling-”

“That was your idea. I told you to fuck off with it and ya’ poured it in anyway-”

“Oi! You woke me up for my help. So, I helped!”

“You didn’t help-”

“Daddy!” Evelyn yelled. “Daddy! Yelling at Uncle Arthur isn’t going to help my situation. I’m going to wake Aunty Polly up-”

“No!” the two older men yelled.

Tommy grabbed her arm, “get your coat on. We’re taking a ride.”

Evie learned not to question those decisions and simply put her coat over her nightie. She hadn’t even bothered to put on her normal day shoes. She did ask once where they were going, and he answered with, “Evelyn, next time you get a paper.” There was a waver in his voice. Evie didn’t know it then, but Tommy was trying to cool his anger. He was upset with Evie, but if there was any person in his life he didn’t want to yell at, it would be Evie. “You don’t put it in your bag. You hear me?” He looked over at her. “It doesn’t go in your bag, it goes straight to my bloody fuckin’ desk!”

“But-”

“Evelyn Rose Shelby,” he warned. “No buts-”

“Butts!” she giggled, rolling around in the front seat. “You said butts-”

He gave up. “Evelyn, next time you hand me a paper late, I will not be doing this. Understand?”

“Uncle John has a big butt,” she said. “Uncle Arthur does not…but daddy, Finn is a fat butt-”

“Who the fuck am I talking to?” he cursed, continuing to drive. Her home was just a short drive away. A simple, humble flat. He liked it the few times he went for coffee. He parked on the street and told Evie to hurry on out. She tried to keep up with her tiny little legs as he walked up the cement stairs and knocked. Lucky for him, she was up.

Grace peeked through the white curtain on her window, and cursed to herself as she unlocked the door. “Thomas-”

“Do you know how to bake?” he asked, not extending a normal greeting. It was urgent. Grace cocked a brow and looked at him, covered in flour. Then Evie, who tried to hide behind her daddy. Evie wasn’t thrilled about this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Grudgingly, she entered the home after her father, looking around with a pout on her face.

“Daddy,” she tried to protest. “The barmaid doesn’t know bake, that’s why she serves you whiskey-”

“Evelyn,” he hissed. “Be kind, eh?”

Grace chuckled to herself and offered, “whiskey?” Tommy shook his head, and asked for tea. Which was perhaps an odd thing for him. “And you?” Grace asked, smiling at the girl, who stubbornly didn’t answer, only looked at the wall. “Does she like milk?”

“Yes-”

“No!” She cut her daddy off. “I don’t like milk-”

“You have always drank milk. When did you decide you don’t like milk?”

Evie shrugged, wearing a big ‘ol fat pout. “Today. Big girls don’t drink milk.”

“What are you looking to bake?” Grace asked from the small kitchenette, looking through her cupboards and pulling out anything that seemed relevant to the task. “We can make shortbread-”

“Grace,” Tommy said, perhaps a bit too desperately. “Anything. It would be great, thank you.” She chuckled at his attire, and he, to her surprise, shyly wiped the flour off his nose. “I’ll use the loo.”

Evie watched how he navigated her house easily, glaring. Joining the woman in the kitchen, she grumbled. “He knows where the loo is-”

“I only have two doors, Evie,” she smiled, diverting the girl’s attention to the batter she started putting together. “If you wash your hands, you can mix in the butter, how about that?” Grace got a little step stool for Evie to stand on. She didn’t argue, as she liked to get her hands dirty in various different types of shit. Grace helped the girl balance on the painted wooden step stool, and guided her through the mixing process.

“I still don’t like you,” she said, as she felt around the melting butter.

Grace frowned, “well, that is a shame because to be honest, I’m quite fond of you.”

Evie paused, looking at the older woman. “You like me?”

Grace offered a warm smile and nodded. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Cause I don’t like you,” she said, turning her attention back to the bowl. Tommy listened to the exchange, chuckling under his breath. He allowed the two to be, watching from the sofa. Evie could be so, so stubborn. Far too stubborn for her own good, and so wasn’t Grace. He put bets on which one would win this exchange.

“You can take a piece of the batter, if you’d like.” Grace picked a piece off and popped it in her mouth. “Mmmmm!” She moaned, doing a dance. “It’s so good…don’t you want some? Hm?”

Evie and Grace had a mini stare off before Evie took a piece and at it, “it’s okay-”

“Evelyn,” Tommy warned.

Sighing. “It’s good.” When Grace turned, Evie took another piece and quickly shoved it in her mouth. It was good.

“We just have to let it chill for a little while and then we can bake it,” she said, looking at the time. It was slightly past midnight. Evie had to get up at six, and everyone knew how she got when she got no sleep. The uncontrollable laughing and then the massive grumpiness. Grace nudged her. “Go to the bedroom, Evie. You can go to sleep.”

Evie looked at her daddy for confirmation and he nodded. The girl was exhausted. From what? He didn’t know. “I’ll tuck her in and then grab her school uniform…cause once she’s asleep, forget it.” Grace gently grabbed his arm.

“Let me…let me try to do it?” Tommy sighed, but motioned for her to go ahead. Grace gave the girl a moment to settle in before knocking at the wooden door frame. Evie looked up without saying anything. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your house,” she said.

“You’re right, but it’s your space right now,” Grace explained, walking in and sitting at the edge of the bed. Uncomfortably, Evie moved herself under the warm blankets, bringing them up to her face. Respecting her space, Grace didn’t take over the tucking in. Instead waiting for everything to calm, to say, “I know you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you,” Evie said. “I don’t hate anybody-”

“You don’t hate me?” Grace asked, raising her brow.

“No,” Evie said, mumbling.

“I’ll take that for a win, then,” she smiled, standing. “And perhaps, tomorrow, you won’t even dislike me.”

“I don’t dislike you,” she said. “I just don’t like you with my daddy-”

“Hmm, well,” Grace said. “Well, admittedly, I’m a little jealous of you, too-”

This got Evie’s attention. “Oh?”

Grace chuckled to herself knowing that she’d win this conversation. “Well, sure, because your daddy loves you more than anything and anyone in this world. Maybe I wish I had someone to love me like he loves you…Actually, he’s quite upset that he didn’t get to tuck you in tonight-”

“He can tuck me in!” she said fast, kicking off her blankets.

Grace winked. “Then I’ll send him right in and I will finish the biscuits. Okay?” In the hallway as she passed Tommy, she grinned. “I think I may have won the Evie game, but she wants you now.” She went to finish her walk to the kitchen when she paused, turning. “Were you listening the whole time?” Tommy swallowed, itching the bridge of his nose. “You were! You thought I couldn’t do it-”

“No! No, Grace, no,” he said. “That’s stupid-”

Grace widened her mouth, smiling, pointing her finger. “You have attachment issues! You’re mad you didn’t tuck her in-”

“She’s not a little girl, Grace,” he protested. “Simply curious,” he mumbled, inching closer to the door. “I’ll go check on her.” Grace shook her head. He really did love that little girl more than anything.

During the night, Grace finished the cookies, and while Tommy slept with Evie in the bedroom, she hunkered down on the sofa. Early in the morning, quietly, Tommy left to pick up her uniform. When he came back, the girl was already bathed, fed, and ready to go. Tommy eyed Evie, whose hair was neatly braided for the first time ever, and then to Grace who was wrapping the biscuits. “Do you want more milk, Evie?” The little girl, politely, said no…politely. Tommy was left out.

“I got the uniform,” he said, holding a pile of clothing in the air. “Evie, come get dressed…look at your hair? What? You didn’t want daddy to comb it?” He was joking, of course. Right? Completely. That little hurt in his voice was fake. Not an ounce of it was real. Evie slid from the chair and rushed over for the uniform, putting it on.

“Grace does it nice, daddy, see?” She showed him the neat braids.

“Oh, yeah, huh, look at that. Come on, you’re going to be late!” He rushed the girl out of the door, and nodded to Grace. “Thank you, Grace, I owe you, really…I do. Thank you.” 

[tranquilpetrichor]

i'm inside your head

synopsis: y/n's ability to read minds with a simple glance and communicate telepathically gets them into some interesting situations.

cast: fem telepathic!reader (uses she/they) x gyuvin ft. gunwook & ricky

genre: fantasy, superpowers!au, angst, comedy, fluff

wc: 2.8k (2,845)

warnings: mentions of crowd anxiety, reader has a period, cursing, descriptions of illness, mentions of discrimination against people with powers, brief mentions of family members insulting each other, people y/n isn't close with tend to use only she pronouns with y/n so fair warning, touching grass jokes, events of fic are in non-chronological order, this attempts to go by the korean high school system, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: first zb1 fic and it was kinda a word dump stemming from one of my crazy ideas LOL. the inspiration from this series came after seeing the character nahida (from genshin) and her ability to read the mind of any sumeru npc with her skill. i also thought it'd be kinda cool to explore the different scenarios that y/n could get themselves into if they could do that.

if you were to go back and ask six-year-old y/n what superpower they would have wanted, they would excitedly have said, "mind reading! it's so cool to know people's thoughts!"

the eighteen-year-old version of you knew better than that, though. since the age of seven, your abilities had only continued to develop, and if you tried enough, you could communicate telepathically with people.

telepathy's fucking annoying sometimes. but it has its perks too.

you can recall many anecdotes, ranging from humorous to depressing to gross, that were the consequence of your telepathic abilities.

1. so he does have a crush..

year 2 of high school

if there was one thing you learned today, it's that kim gyuvin was not great at hiding his thoughts.

when you wanted to focus, it was natural for you to suppress your mind's tendency to peer into the minds of others, but depending on how active their thoughts were, it was difficult.

so that was how you learned in your science class that your cute lab partner wanted to ask you out, but never had the chance to really talk with you until now.

that was all accompanied by a cascade of other thoughts like y/n's such a talented student, I'd love to even be friends with them, and that's a cute necklace.

hm, kinda cute, you thought to yourself. truth be told, you were a little hesitant to make the first move romantically, but a tiny little push couldn't hurt, right?

you innocently whistled while scribbling down a few more notes—you couldn't make it too obvious that you knew his secret. but since the two of you had to make a joint presentation presenting your findings from today's lab, you figured that it would be a lot easier if you exchanged contact information with him.

and hey, he was cute.

you tapped gyuvin on the shoulder and smiled, showing him your lab paper with your personal info written in the right-hand corner.

"i’ve finished this part of the worksheet—here's my number and kakao talk id so we can talk more. let's work hard on the presentation together!"

his lips formed an o of surprise, and you swore that he was blushing. "alright then! uh, thanks for giving me your info!"

AHHHHH wait wait wait oh my god what just happened was all you could hear in his mind. a subtle smile bloomed on your face. science class just got a lot more interesting.

2. a (mostly) clean separation

year 1 of high school

you actually didn't enjoy telling people about your abilities. it wasn't that people with powers were so uncommon (you forgot the exact figure, but you thought it was about 2 percent of south korea's population that did).

no, it was the specific nature of your abilities. people tended to make assumptions about you as soon as you trusted them enough to drop this info.

it was as if you were suddenly someone not to be trusted, even though you were acting no differently than you had before.

although, their assumptions were understandable. you couldn't say you had never abused your abilities for personal gain, but it was something you didn't want to make a habit of.

revealing to your friend, gunwook, your secret had caused a minor but turbulent period of conflict in your friendship.

he clenched his fists and released them with a sigh. "how did i not connect all the dots? i'm hurt that you've kept this from me for so long."

6 months was a long time to keep a secret, but you were cautious by nature. you knew that not everyone liked people with superpowers, and that some still faced discrimination and greater scrutiny.

besides, you wanted people to get to know you for things outside your powers.

"i'm sorry, gunwook. i had my reasons. i thought you would judge me harshly, and i've had several negative experiences of this happening."

you paused to catch your breath, and continued, trying to silence his troubled thoughts, but it was getting increasingly more difficult. you held a hand to your head.

"look, i'll understand if you want to stop being friends."

he grabbed his water bottle and drank some of the liquid, presumably to calm down. he was facing away from you, and let out a sigh.

gunwook was actually quite level-headed most of the time, which was why it pained you to see him trying to hold back signs of emotional distress.

"y/n, i don't want this to ruin a great friendship. it's just, i have to take time to think about how my perception of you has changed. i don't want to say anything i might regret. this is a... personal issue."

if it was personal, you weren't going to pry. it was up to him to decide if and when he would tell you.

you got one final glimpse of his thoughts before he bid you goodbye.

"not a monster.. they're not a monster. they're not..."

as he walked away, all you could hear were the autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet and the wind that drowned every noise out so easily.

3. the donut order

year 2 of elementary school

there was no better feeling for you as a kid than the chance of getting a treat after school, and since you had quite the sweet tooth, there was no better place to go than the donut shop.

"which one do you want?" your mother had said, gesturing to the display case of donuts. back then, you could barely see the whole thing, so you had to stand on your tippy-toes.

your gaze settled on one particular flavor. "chocolate, please!"

"you got it, kiddo."

your mother's thoughts were creeping into your mind. this had happened a few times before, but now, they were clearer.

i think i should try something new. lemon sounds good. oh, i'll get another donut for him too, maple. i'm sure hayoung won't mind an oreo. shoot, i don't think i have enough reward points. maybe next time.

"mommy, i think you're getting a lemon donut and bringing back a maple for daddy, and an oreo for hayoung!"

she nodded, but her eyes soon widened with surprise. "yes, that's—wait, how did you know? we'll talk about this later."

you wondered if you had said anything wrong, but quickly returned to the thought of getting a donut.

the employee working the counter was busy refilling certain sections of the display case and seemed to give no indication that she had heard the conversation between you and your mother.

"miss?" your mother asked politely, and the employee looked up. "i'll get one maple, one lemon, one oreo, one chocolate."

"will that be all?"

"yes."

"okay, one maple, one lemon, one oreo, one chocolate," she repeated for confirmation, grabbing each flavor mentioned and placing them in a large box. "you can insert, swipe or tap your card here."

your mom took out her credit card and followed the instructions on the kiosk.

"would you like a receipt?" the worker asked.

"no, thank you."

"alright, thank you and have a good afternoon!"

you followed your mother out the door, watching her quickly stride towards the car. after both of you got in, she sighed.

"y/n, you've always been a pretty smart kid, but i wasn't exactly ready for you to be a mind reader. i'm pretty sure that's why you knew what i was ordering."

you grinned, eyes wide with curiosity. "so i can really read people's thoughts?"

she hummed thoughtfully. "well, let's make sure. i'm thinking of an animal right now, what is it?"

pink giraffe with wings. she should be able to sense that thought.

"a pink giraffe with wings... but that doesn't exist."

she sighed. "what am i going to do with you, my dear child?"

4. money before morals

year 3 of middle school

you were walking around campus after school, wanting to enjoy a few minutes to yourself. you had your headphones on, not wanting to be disturbed.

however, a figure began to approach you. as you took in his facial features, you suddenly recognized him.

that’s jeon jaebeom. his dad works for the school administration…

he walked in line with you, so you started walking towards a more crowded area to try and get away from him. you could hear him yelling.

“hey, wait! you’re the one who can read minds, aren’t you?”

you took off your headphones and glared at him. “ah, so someone was looking at something they shouldn’t have. keep it down, will you?”

he chuckled, and you wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face, even if it would get you in trouble.

“but you would be useful to me. i’d like for you to help me cheat on our next math test. see if you can get the answer key or something. i’m close to getting a c in that class, anyways.”

you groaned. what an idiotic request. “and why would i do that? so i can get expelled on your behalf?”

he shrugged. “because i’d pay you.”

you did a quick scan of his thoughts.

this bitch would be stupid if she actually did it.

hm, why not play around with him for a bit?

you looked at him quizzically. “how much?”

“100,000 won. you could probably buy a pretty nice meal with that amount.”

it would be useful, but i can't stoop that low to get it, you thought.

you laughed and pretended to thoughtfully consider it for a couple of seconds.

“i don’t think so.”

jaebeom glared at you. “what, you want higher? come on, isn’t this a good enough amount?”

you were truly annoyed and just wanted to blast your music again. why did you even remove your headphones, just to hear him say some nonsense? at least you were the same age as him, so he couldn't say something like "respect your elders."

it was time to go home.

“no, i don’t want your money, i want you to leave me the fuck alone. i’m not someone who stoops that low just to pass one test, but apparently someone thinks i’m a ‘stupid bitch.’”

he sneered and walked past you, shoving you as he did so. “fine. no one would trust someone like you anyways to help because all you’ll do is read their thoughts and manipulate them."

you staggered sideways, trying to regain your balance. you scowled.

really, you should have known better than to entertain a conversation with someone as spoiled as him. he shouldn't have soured your day, but in your defense, the middle school you was bad at picking the correct battles to fight.

still, you wondered if no one would trust you after all.

5. i'll be your destination

year 2 of high school

you groaned, trying to get up from your bed, and failing. usually, when your time of the month rolled around, the cramps weren't so unbearable, but of course, it had to be more painful than usual this month.

your sister had already gone off to school for the day, but your parents had allowed you to stay home, thankfully. they'd gone off to work, but they left soup that you could reheat in the microwave.

you grabbed a cup and filled it with water. you were bored, but you didn't want to risk getting any of your friends in trouble by texting them (seriously, how hard was it to silence a cell phone?).

although, there was one thing you could potentially try...

hey gyuvin, what class are you in right now?

you didn't expect an instantaneous response or one at all. then again, the more often you contacted someone telepathically, the easier the process was, and you would say you and gyuvin had developed a pretty strong bond.

oh, hi y/n! social studies. you sound like crap by the way, haha.

you could practically visualize his smile. if you had the energy and were with him in person, you'd playfully elbow him.

ugh, so mean.

you just thought of elbowing me, so who's the mean one? ok but seriously, are you sick? fever? your attendance is usually pretty good. or wait, it's that time of the month?

bingo. should i give you a cookie or something for getting it right?

no, but you could give me a kiss...

you smiled. he always got away with cheeky remarks like this.

what an idiot.

heard that.

hey, wait. you have work to do.

it was some boring worksheet and it's done, i swear. besides, i'd rather help you feel better. is there anything i can do?

you've learned that despite initially pegging gyuvin for a jokester, he was incredibly caring and emotionally receptive.

well, talking has already helped me so much. but if you really want to do something... then i want to hear you sing. it doesn't have to be long.

hey, if it makes you happy,

in your head, you heard his boyish voice, singing one of his favorite songs.

i'll be your destination, tell me your favorite song...

he continued the lyrics while you finished your soup, and you felt more relaxed. even the worst days could turn bright whenever he was in your mind.

6. don't spoil the ending!

year 3 of high school

watching dramas was a slow process for you, and it was another reason why you had to block people's thoughts sometimes.

because occasionally, a certain friend would be thinking about the ending of a show you weren't caught up on...

hey y/n.. guess who finished alice in borderland!

park fucking gunwook. i'm trying to finish this essay, don't you dare. and let me finish season 2 in peace.

come on, you're good at filtering out my thoughts anyways. i think you'll like it.

i have 4 more episodes to go. it's so tempting to just read spoilers online.

clearly, not god's strongest soldier—you should finish soon. honestly, we should have just had a watch party. gyuvin and ricky still need to finish season 1.

true. it's hard to watch a whole show together.

you typed another few sentences. perks of being busy, right?

despite that, you'd noticed that gunwook did manage to finish a few more dramas throughout the year.

being on student council sure does take a lot of time.

still, you get all the work done.

speaking of work, i'll leave you alone. finish the essay, and then we can talk about dramas.

fine, i guess it's time to be a good student.

yeah. but touch some grass every once in a while, i heard the cherry blossom trees are nice this time of year. i honestly think we should have debate club outside.

well, you're indeed the president, so you could probably do whatever you want. anyways, see you soon.

you laughed. nothing like friends telling you to touch grass, right?

quickly, you resumed your research for your argumentative essay, realizing how enjoyable (and yet distracting) it was to talk and reconnect with friends. maybe you'd have time to watch one episode tonight...

7. information overload

year 2 of high school

family reunions weren't always the greatest place to be. of course, there was a lot of good food, whether it was homemade cooking, or people used another catering option.

but the downside to a large family reunion was an abundance of thoughts to read, which was the case anywhere that was crowded. however, family reunions made you quite nervous.

people's thoughts began to creep into your headspace, the voices semi-recognizable.

she got so fat.

i wonder where he's working? some tech company, i've heard.

auntie's boyfriend is so ugly.

dinner looks good.

can we go home? now?

he'd better get into a sky university.

i hope the kids don't crash into the wall..

of course, it had gotten easier to block these thoughts out, but you could never get rid of them a hundred percent. people had more on their minds than you'd expected.

if your mind was too muddled, it just induced headaches and sometimes, other symptoms such as suddenly feeling nauseous. that's why you couldn't be in crowded places for too long, and you usually had some sort of water bottle with you.

damn, you thought. i need somewhere to be alone.

you tried not to invite conversation as you found your way to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly as you entered.

you sunk to the floor, leaned against a wall, and closed your eyes, glad to be able to rest, if only for a short while. a peaceful smile appeared on your face.

you'd long accepted that your experiences as an adolescent weren't ever going to be entirely normal, whatever that meant. your powers were a blessing and a curse, a gift and a tool for destruction.

of course, it was up to you to decide how you would use them in the future.

but as long as you had people in your life that accepted and cared for you no matter what secrets you held, you'd be alright.

[vampzxi]

just a question

riri williams x black!afab reader (slightly suggestive)

thank you moo @letitias-fav for reading the first draft and sticking with me after i had to restart this 3 times.

"make sure you have your paper in by 11, y/n," your professor looked at you, his eyes peering above his glasses, "im not giving you any more extensions. you know the material."

"my bad, teach. I'll have it in before then, i swear," you said, picking up your bag and leaving. sighing heavily, you made your way across campus, wondering how you were gonna get a 5 page rhetorical analysis finished in 3 hours. you took your phone out and tapped on Riri's contact, texting her.

"hey ri, gonna have to skip out on movie night tonight. paper due at 11. takeout tmrw? :(“

you knew ri would be slightly upset. she doesn't like change, and you knew she'd been looking forward to this date night for weeks. this was y'all's first night together since 2 months ago. you both have been constantly doing schoolwork and swamped with extracurriculars. and you knew how Riri's temper could get. you did not want to deal with that tonight.

you reached for your headphones in your tote bag, when you feel your phone buzz from a notification. immediately, you know it's Ri. biting your lower lip and bracing yourself, you open her message.

"it's alright, bae. takeout sounds great. Imk if you need any help:)"

stopping in your tracks, you read and re read the message. it's alright?! you thought. she hates takeout and hates english even more. wondering about the change in attitude, you send another text back:

"you sure? you can come over if you want."

texting back immediately, Riri replied:

"nah, it's all good. stay focused baby. love you💜”

alright, now she was trippin. she never declines an invite over to your place, even if it's just to walk to class. you didn't know where this sudden change in attitude was coming from. your mind immediately jumped to cheating, but that was just your overactive imagination. you have a tendency to jump to the worst possible conclusion. silently chastising yourself, you took a deep breath to clear your head. you turn on your favorite song and put your headphones on, drowning out everything else.

when you arrive at your dorm, you take your headphones off and fumble for your keys. as you’re about to insert the key into the lock, you hear faint music coming from behind your door. oh shit, i forgot to turn my record player off, you thought. you opened your door, but what faced you completely took your breath away.

riri was sprawled on your bed, wearing nothing but a muscle tank and underwear. she had dimmed all the lights, and the only light sources were the fake tea candles scattered around your dorm. she had come on by jhenè aiko coming through your record player. slowly looking up at you, a playful smile crept across her face. “hey, baby,” she said in a breathy whisper as stood up and inched toward you.

holy shit. you thought. your eyes slid down to her chest and waist and you found it hard to focus on just her face. gulping, you forced yourself to meet her expectant eyes. “ri, what are you…what are you doing here?”

riri put her hand past your head, shutting the door you forgot to close when you entered. you looked down into her big, brown eyes as that smirk still remained on her face. “i just wanted to surprise you, ma.”

your heart was beating so fast, you were sure riri could hear it. if she could, she was too busy staring at you to notice. god, she looked so beautiful. you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you said, “i got…i got a paper.”

slight irritation flashed across riri’s face for a second, making your heart drop to your stomach. you wished you could take it back and scoop her up in your arms and kiss her everywhere. you wanted to see her writhe under you as you touched her in all the right places.

fuck.

you slid your tote bag off and let it thud to the ground. riri’s smirk returned and she kicked the bag to the corner of your dorm. “it can wait, right?” it was more of a command than a question.

nodding breathlessly, you cupped her face with your hands as you pressed your lips onto hers. all of her irritation melted away as you bought her closer to you. her lips were warm and soft. you felt the gentle tickle of her breath beneath your nose. she parted mouth softly, allowing you to slip your tongue inside. a low whimper escaped riri, making your stomach tighten. you longed for her so bad in that moment.

you shrugged your jacket off as you continued to kiss riri. chest heaving, she fumbled with your shirt and pulled it over the top of your head. she tossed it into the same corner as your bag.

ri’s mouth moved to your collarbone, nipping at it lightly. you bit your lip, stifling a moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. she peppered kisses across your chest and slipped her calloused hands up into your sports bra, rubbing up and down. this time, you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped from your lips as your knees buckled.

your bodies pressed together against the door, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once more. you could hardly contain the noises that passed through your mouth, but they only seemed to excite ri more. her lips made a path from your lips to your neck, and back to your lips again. she moaned, pushing herself against you even more.

panting heavily, one of ri’s hands quickly left your bra and slid up the back of your neck, gripping your locs. she pulled your head back firmly, leaving your lips cold. you were forced to make eye contact with her. her eyes slid up and down your body, “hey baby?”

“yeah?”

“just a question.”

her hand left your hair as it slipped into the back of your pants, making your skin hot everywhere she touched. she stopped right above your ass, pinching your underwear’s waistline. “why are these still on?”

thank you for reading! i was gonna stretch it out but i felt like it was alr too long so ☠️ i might make a second part idk. this is my first time writing in like forever so i’m sorry for any inconsistencies. thank you again for reading! ^_^

[carsonian]

stony prompt: blind date au 🥰 thank you!

SOOO this is a Modern, No Powers AU where Steve and Tony are on everyone's favourite internet shitshow, "The Button", but sideways. Because maximillian shenanigans must be had. Thank you anon for the prompt! <3

I Can See Clearly Now The Blindfold's Gone on AO3 | 3,559 words | Rated M

"Alright, one of you needs to step away." Vision intones. He's been working through more polite iterations of that for the past few minutes but apparently, artificial intelligence has a limited patience, too. Point being, he's managed to inject a hell of a lot of judginess into his latest, pleading request. 

Steve can't see Tony—duh, they've got blindfolds on—but at this point in the date, he reckons he knows the man well enough to know that he's too stubborn to step away. Too fucking bad for Tony; Steve's undeterred. His grade school teacher would back him up here, wrote it right there in the report herself: "undeterred pleasure to have in class". And class isn't over.

He clenches his jaw but refuses to cross his arms. Even if Tony can't see him, there's no need to look defensive in front of Natasha and her camera crew. 

"The date can not continue if one of you doesn't step away." Vision repeats. 

"I guess this date's out of time." Tony's voice is dripping with the restrained manic of a man with his hands inches from a prize. Steve knows better than to celebrate early. He knows the difference a few inches can make; he learned that in high school.

"That's. . . not how the game works." The pause in the sentence is a sweet touch, Steve'll admit, but it's an artificial intelligence. Emphasis on artificial. Because that's what all of this is. Artificial.

.

Alright, alright, here's the behind-the-scenes footage that didn't make the cut.

Natasha had emailed him with a date, time and location. The subject had read, "REMEMBER YOU OWE ME FOR THE NUDE PAINTING CLASS". Helpless to the truth of that, Steve had shown up and realised he was a guinea pig for a social experiment Natasha was conducting as part of her many pet projects. 

An hour later, he found himself seated in front of cameras with a blindfold secured on his face, an obnoxious button by the name of "Vision" on the table and an even more obnoxious guy seated opposite him.

To his credit, "Tony" didn't start off too obnoxious. 

.

"I work in tech." Tony says.

(Somewhere, Sam Wilson shoots up off the water bed, takes the cucumbers off his eyes and says, "That's a red flag.")

"Oh." Steve says, "I work in art curation."

"I never got art."

"I guess it's not for everybody." Steve replies, "Like technology."

". . .Well. Everyone's got a phone."

.

To his discredit, it didn't take long for Tony to verge into obnoxious territory, and it all just spiralled away from then on.

.

"Well, hypothetically, if they were in a position to help the aliens, I don't see why a piece of paper telling them otherwise should stop them. Not if they're genuine heroes." Steve argues.

"But the point is that it's not just a piece of paper." Tony protests, "It's legislative infrastructure—"

"Legislative infrastructure? You're just making up convoluted terms—"

"I'm sorry, I forgot I was talking to "like, an artist, man"."

"I'm from Brooklyn, I don't know where that accent's meant to be from but it sure as hell ain't—"

"Oh my god, Brooklyn. What is Brooklyn but hipsters and overpriced cafes?"

.

Vision tried to intervene multiple times to move the conversation towards a more positive topic, but each new tidbit from the other's profile only served to ignite further miscommunication and disagreement between them. In short: they kept rubbing off against each other in all the wrong ways.

.

"Did you know Steve served?" Vision offers.

". . .Like, looks?"

"No, the army."

"Of course he did." Tony mumbles.

"What's that mean?" Steve asks. 

"It means thank you for your service." Tony says brightly.

"Sure it does."

"Tony describes himself as a philanthropist?" Vision tries.

"Amongst other things." Tony clarifies. 

"Of course you describe yourself as that." Steve says.

"What, you got a problem with philanthropy now?"

"Sure, I got a problem with rich people giving away money as a tax write-off and then calling themselves philanthropists."

"Why do you assume I'm rich?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe the entitlement?"

"Bold words from someone who feels entitled enough to pass judgement on someone they met ten minutes ago."

"Like you're not doing the same."

"Oh, fuck off, hypocrite."

"Language!"

"Wh-aow. You sure you were in the military?"

"You sure you're not the charity case?"

.

All that to say, the newfound silence between the two of them is a snuffed, deafening thing. 

"Can I confirm that neither of you are willing to press me and step away from the table?" Vision obviously doesn't deal with awkward silences well.

"By all means, Tony." Steve says.

"Feel free, Steve." Tony volleys. 

Spiritually, they're in a staring contest. Physically, Steve feels like an idiot schmuck wasting his Saturday afternoon away in Natasha's studio. 

"Then, without further ado, I'd like to offer my sincere congratulations to the two of you for winning the all-expenses paid date."

"What?" Steve straightens. 

"Pass." Tony says at the same moment. 

"That's the point of this game, if you two can recall anything from before your effusive debate about Star-titled enterprises." Vision says. 

"Star Wars." Tony says.

"Star Trek." Steve hits back. 

"That and much more can be discussed between the two of you on an all-expenses paid date. In a galaxy far, far away from here." Vision says. 

"I'm not doing that." Tony insists. 

"Can I take the blindfold off?" Steve asks.

"Go ahead." Vision says. 

Steve hears rustling opposite him as he drags his blindfold off his face. A few moments pass where he's just blinking through the glare of the studio lights and when he finally looks up, he immediately makes eye contact with Tony just as the man's blinking his own eyes open. 

A goatee that should look hopelessly outdated. Dark hair curled over his ears. Brown eyes outlined with visibly thick lashes. The kind of lips that promise trouble.

I'm in trouble, Steve thinks.

The realisation hits like a sucker punch, like the deepest injustices writ true, like assuming life's given you lemons and opening the basket to find limes. Steve stares at Tony, gobsmacked, and it's that very inability to look away that has him hurtling right on to another realisation. 

The brown eyes he's been struck by are looking at him with the same cocktail of emotions Steve's trying to swallow down. 

The realisation that the guy they've each been fighting for the past ten and change, the guy they've managed to get on the wrong side of for every fucking point that's come up—

That guy's hot.

Tony's lips curl in self-contained disgust and Steve feels his own eyebrows flatten in irritated reflex before they both lean forward, and in a show of coordinated, petty competitiveness, slap a hand down on the button. 

"First." Tony huffs triumphantly, and the smug smirk suits him a little too well. Steve wants to bang him like a fucking screen door in a hurricane. He wants to churn him like butter. He wants to choke him on his dick. He wants to ask him if he really doesn't like art or if he just had a bad teacher. He wants to slap that smirk off his face and soothe the sting with his lips.

". . .Whatever." It's a weak response and the brunet recognises it as such, head slanting the faintest as he considers Steve.

"I wasn't red when you pressed me. So that doesn't count, which you'd know, if either of you were paying attention to the briefing." Vision's voice is as flat as an AI can get, "You can both go on your date now."

"The date that's not happening, you mean?" Tony asks, "That date?"

.

"It's happening." Natasha crosses her arms, and why on God's blue Earth—the sea levels are rising and Steve's rising to meet 'em head-on—does it not look defensive on her? She's staring at Steve with enough heat for him to consider that maybe global warming's her fault. 

"Been an awful lotta greenhouse gases around since youse was born." Steve says unthinkingly. 

"What is wrong with you?" Natasha asks.

"I meant that you're full of gas." Steve makes a quick recovery, "It's one thing to have me cover for the participants of your social experiment not showing up but it's altogether another thing to make me go on a date with a guy I don't even—"

"I saw you staring at his ass." Natasha points out, "And then I saw you shake your head."

"Why'd he wear such tight pants?" Steve hisses. 

"As I believe you Americans say," Natasha pauses dramatically here, and it becomes pretty fucking obvious where Vision got his theatrical sense of timing from, "If you've got it, flaunt it."

"He doesn't got it." Steve lies.

"Isn't English your first and only language?" Natasha points out, "How the fuck are you so bad at it?"

"Je parle—"

"Yeah, you parlay all over the place." Natasha cuts him off, "And yes, you're going, Steve, because I didn't tell you to go all Stevie Rogers on him and refuse to step away just to make a point that didn't even make sense."

"The point was that the one who's being a prick should step away." Steve says.

"Then by all rights, both of you should have stepped away." Natasha says, "The tension was insane. I can't figure out if you two have brilliant chemistry or are just a failed chemistry experiment."

"And this is your way of finding out?" Steve asks.

"No, Steve, I could care less about what happens with you two. I just need to follow up because our methodology included a post-date debriefing for every couple that didn't press the button on each other. Which, if you remember, was what you both didn't do. Et voilà, you have a date." 

"Ugh." Steve rubs a hand over his face, "You swear this isn't a longwinded way of setting me up with someone?"

"Would I do that?" Natasha asks.

"Uh, yeah?" Steve answers with the same tone a person would answer the question: is the sky blue? Which is to say he spoke with a certainty wavering only because the question's obvious to the point of redundancy. Like just. Look up. Natasha's texts to Steve.

"Then I guess you'll never know the real me." Natasha uncrosses her arms, "'Cause I gave up on your love life after you passed on Carynne."

"I didn't pass on her."

"You literally said pass!"

"Yeah, as in pass the fucking salt. Jesus, we were at my ma's for dinner, Natasha."

"The timing was suspicious. Auspicious, even." Natasha shakes her head, "Now listen, come on, just go get burgers, don't kill him, and then a few weeks later, wax poetic about how you can't get to know anyone in a meaningful way during a ten minute game designed to artificially heighten your sense of alienation."

"Aren't you tampering with the experiment?" Steve points out, "Tellin' me all this?"

"It's a social experiment, Steve. Everything's staged."

.

"So." Steve attempts once he's had two bites of his cheeseburger, "How'd you get involved in this experiment?"

From across the table, in a scene both familiar and new—the light in this diner is a lot less forgiving than in the studio, and also, Steve doesn't have a blindfold on—Tony watches him carefully.

"Uh, Bruce. He designed Vision? Or well, we did." Tony's index finger scratches a nervous line against his ear, "Uh, we were actually designing this AI for—a class." Tony shrugs swiftly, "It didn't take but the core code was solid, and Bruce ended up repurposing it for this."

"I guess you're kinda like the estranged father, then." Steve says unwittingly. 

Tony's cheeseburger stays lofted halfway to his mouth, a single raised eyebrow levelled at Steve.

Alright, Rogers, commit or quit. Steve takes a sip of his jumbo coke.

"Y'know, 'cause Bruce ran off with the kid." Steve explains.

The raised eyebrow lowers, meets its companion in the middle in a furrowed expression.

Then, almost abruptly, something softens. Steve's not sure what exactly but he watches it ripple over Tony's face as the man goes, "Guess I'm taking after my father then."

The snort is natural, and Steve covers it up with a hand, surprised at his own reaction. 

When he dares to look over again, Tony's eyes are practically twinkle, twinkle, little star-ing at Steve. 

"You know," Tony starts after a few moments of weighted silence wherein they pretend they're not sneaking looks at each other, "I wasn't trying to insult art."

"You did a good impression of it, then." Steve says.

"I just," Tony scrunches his nose in uncertain thought, "I don't really get how certain paintings have more value than others when there are some that are obviously much easier to make. Like, I could totally make—"

"A Jackson Pollock?" Steve interrupts, raising his eyebrows in a silent "gotcha" when Tony startles, "Yeah, I know. Point isn't that you could do it. Point is, you didn't."

"But that doesn't explain scale." Tony returns.

"Art's not about—" Steve rubs a hand over his mouth, "Here, look. There're measures people use to try and quantify a piece's value and sure, some of it even makes sense, but the point—the point is how it makes you feel. What emotions it stirs in you. How it challenges you."

"And what if it doesn't stir up anything?" Tony asks, "'Cause I got four contemporary art pieces in my apartment I feel nothing but the vaguest pleasantness for, and the only challenge is figuring out how much maintenance they need."

"Two things." Steve picks up a french fry, "Either you're not looking deep enough, or you're not an art person. Actually, three things. Why do you have four art pieces at your apartment if you're not into art?"

"I have a convincing assistant." Tony says before leaning back, "Also, y'know, some people just aren't art people."

"Nah. I bet I could persuade you over to the dark side." Steve says.

Tony squints his eyes at him. "Not a Star Wars guy, huh?"

"I never said I wasn't a Star Wars guy." Steve corrects, "Just that Star Trek was objectively better."

"Huh." Tony picks at his cheeseburger wrapper, "So, upon review—I don't actually hate art. You don't actually hate Star Wars. That's two things we got wrong."

"You hate the military?" Steve asks.

"Yeah." Tony says, "Sure."

"You. . .hate soldiers?" Steve checks.

"No, I don't hate veterans." Tony catches on, and then smiles down at his cheeseburger, "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"Well, I'm not gonna be taking back the entitled thing anytime soon." Steve says, mostly in a murmur to himself except he doesn't adjust the volume or nothing. So it's really just something he says.

"Tony Stark, as in Stark Industries?" Tony clarifies, and then raises his eyebrows in a mirror of Steve's own surprised reaction, "So, no, I don't hate veterans, and if a camera is put in front of me, I'll even say I don't hate the military complex."

"You're Tony Stark," Steve breathes out, "Huh."

"Turn off?" Tony asks. 

"Not anymore than you not being into art." Steve says. 

Tony swipes a hand over his mouth, hiding the pleased twist of his lips from Steve as he flits a quick, restless glance around the diner. 

"We really got our wires crossed, didn't we?" Steve asks.

"Well." Tony shrugs, looking back at Steve, "I usually just cut the wire."

"How's that work out for you, normally?" Steve asks. 

"Eh, hit or miss." Tony leans forward, folding his hands together over the table, eyes uncharacteristically solemn as he proposes, "Do you wanna go back to my apartment and fuck?"

"Yes." Steve answers readily, "Will you let me try and explain the art pieces to you?"

"Ah. So it's like that?" Tony asks, a touch of appreciation in his voice.

"It's like that." Steve decides. 

"Is this another dashing facet of your personality?" Tony asks, "Leaping without looking?"

"It's called a leap of faith." Steve says. 

"How's that work out for you, normally?" Tony echoes.

"Hit or miss." Steve echoes in return. 

". . . Okay." Tony says, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully, "I will let you explain the art pieces to me. . .if we can do a Star Wars marathon for the second one."

"Someone's assuming." Steve says, "Second one, huh?"

"If you're as easy in bed as you are on the eyes," Tony shrugs, "Why not?"

"Okay, smart mouth." Steve says, leaning back, "Lucky for you, that's my type."

"You know, I totally thought this would end with a hate fuck." Tony says, taking a sip of his coke, "This is much nicer. I like a good cuddle after, you know? Stay in bed," Tony takes another sip, "Do the daily crossword and whatnot."

Steve licks his lips before saying, low and intense, "Okay, you're gonna stop sucking that straw so obscenely and finish your coke so that we can get outta here and back to your place."

At that, Tony takes off the lid and straw, and downs the remaining coke in one easy sip. The notch of his throat as he swallows is just as obscene as the blowie he'd been giving the straw. When Tony puts the cup back down, the smarmy look on his face tells Steve that he knows it too.

Yeah, Steve's gonna have to fuck him.

.

A decent chunk of time later, Steve finds out that Tony wasn't lying about enjoying a good cuddle after sex and also that one of the four paintings Tony's interior designer picked out is genuinely trite. 

"So, not all art is good art?"

"Are all AIs Vision?" Steve volleys against Tony's temple. 

"No, most of 'em are Ultrons." Tony sniffs, stroking a finger down Steve's forearm. 

"Ultrons?"

"It was the name of our first attempt at an AI." Tony explains, "Shitshow, that one."

"Why was it a shitshow?" 

"Pft." Tony mumbles against him, "Tons of reasons. It's a long story."

"Well." Steve says, "We got more than ten minutes. And no button in sight."

"Well, alright." Tony says, "So, uh, it was two years ago, and. . ."

.

"Not just a pretty face, am I?" Steve asks a little later than that. Tony's crossword app is still open on the bed.

"Mm." Tony screws up his eyes at him, "A pretty face with a pretty dick."

"Pretty brain, too?"

"Yeah, you're no Brooklyn hipster. And besides, I fumbled over the manufacturer for one second." Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm a genius, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatsit? Genuis, billionaire, playboy—"

"—philanthropist." Tony finishes with a touch of irony, "Thanks."

"Vision's a shit wingman." Steve says.

"Oh, absolutely." Tony thunks his head against Steve's chest, "I mean, why would he bring up that I was a "guns aficionado" after you said that your least favourite part of basic training was the shooting?"

"We were set up." Steve says.

"Soooo set up." Tony says, "But, you know, I'm also an asshole, so. Putting that out there."

"It's fine, I can be a dick." Steve shrugs it off.

". . .Aw, we fit." Tony says.

"Whaddya—oh." Steve turns his gaze heavenward, "Hey, where'd that button go off to?"

.

"How do you think the blindfold and button affected your ability to connect with the other person during the blind date?" Vision's voice is cool through the button.

"Well, firstly," Steve sends a shiteating quirk of the lips—he's not a grinner—Natasha's way, to where she's standing behind the camera, "It's difficult to have a meaningful connection with someone in just ten minutes, especially when the independent variables are designed to enhance feelings of alienation."

". . .And what about you, Tony?" Vision asks. 

Sitting across from him, Steve's partner offers a shiteating grin—he's a grinner—to the camera. 

"Oh, I think it was fabulous." Tony says.

"It seems you still disagree on many topics even after commencing a romantic relationship." Vision says.

"Not everything." Steve points out.

"What topics do you agree on?" Vision asks.

"Politics, surprisingly," Tony lists off, "TV shows, not surprisingly. Cutest animals, obviously—"

"Sex positions." Steve pitches in. 

Tony snaps his fingers at Steve, "Yes, that's crucial. Thank you, honeypot."

Steve winces before leaning forward to admit, "We disagree on appropriate pet names."

.

"So it really wasn't on purpose?" Bruce asks. They're reviewing the footage from the interview, editing down the more inappropriate aspects at the behest of the SI public relations team.

"I'm a human, Bruce," Natasha drinks from her coffee mug, "Not some manipulative mastermind. How could I have predicted that Steve and Tony would get together? They're totally different on paper. I mean, Tony's all digital, you wouldn't even find him on paper."

"An HTML document, maybe." Bruce thinks out loud, "Huh. I guess opposites really do attract."

"Chemistry." Natasha squints her eyes, "Riiiight."

"Hey, I'd call this experiment a success." Bruce says, putting his hand out for a high-five. Natasha brings her hand up and brings Bruce's hand down.

"That's because you haven't looked far ahead enough." Natasha says, "You don't realise that we've just put the most argumentative, polarising individuals we know into a relationship. For a social experiment."

"Oh." Bruce turns faintly green. "Oh, shit—"

.

"Hit." Steve says.

"Total hit." Tony agrees.

And if they can agree on that? Then the rest's all lemons.

[flowerfeast444]

you were a house on fire || h.s {pt 5}*

harry styles x oc

chapter summary: Harry and Roe can’t help but let their thoughts wander when they are alone, leading them to meet again. (god i love this chapter fr)

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist

Roe was ten years old the first time she stole. Granted, it was a set of watercolor paints and a single, ragged brush from her elementary school, but still, she saw herself as a first-time thief. Her class just finished their painting unit in their art class, and while everyone except Ethan, her best friend, had their attention elsewhere, she slipped the supplies into her backpack. That was two weeks after the twins were born. Lucas found her stolen goods, barely eight at the time, and tried convincing her to return them because everybody knows that people who steal go to jail, and he couldn't have his big sister go to jail.

Of course, Roe promised Lucas she was safe, and it was okay for her to keep her paints. That, however, didn't stop her from hiding them whenever Blue Uniforms searched through the house. They always came with loud shouts and left with one or both of her parents. No. Her paints were safe. There was a spot between her dresser and the wall where the case could sit without falling to the ground. You only saw it if you knew it was there.

Roe woke up that Tuesday with a picture of it in her mind, still behind the dresser, collecting dust. It had been there since she was fourteen, and the Blue Uniform left with her dad like they had many times before. But unlike those other times, he didn't come waltzing back through the front door weeks or months later with a smirk on his lips and shake of his bald head. She left the case there, told herself she would bring it out again when her father's boots clunked around their house. Day after day, her hope dwindled until she forgot of its existence entirely- until now.

With a lull in clients at Keystone and today as her day off at the diner, what harm could she do by pulling the old dried up pigments from their hiding place? River was her only company at home, but she put him down for a nap only moments ago. So, Roe set up her paper, watercolor, and brush, and water in a cracked plastic cup that read "Pirates Cove!" on the kitchen table in the sunlight of midday. It was all there- her supplies, time, quietness, ambition to create, yet she couldn't think of anything to paint. No subject. No muse. At least, not one she desired admitting to.

Roe slouched into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. This was not how it was supposed to go. She wanted to paint a flower or some fruit. She wanted to be able to paint freely, without thoughts of a lingering lover plaguing her mind and ultimately restricting the feeling in her fingertips. It was as if she were actually there with her hands anchored around Roe's wrists.

Perhaps Roe was not meant to be an artist. She shook her head and blew a puff of air to send her bangs away from her eyes. She picked up her phone and dialed the only number she still knew by heart.

~~~

Harry's ringtone drew him from his warm afternoon nap. His body never knew which timezone to align itself with, and with no work for the unforeseen future, Harry found himself napping more than he did when he was a toddler. He wiped the crusted sleep out of the corners of his eyes and untangled his phone from the sheets near his left knee. "Niall Horan" lit up the screen in bold lettering under a picture of said man doing a handstand on top of one of their tour buses. Harry took that picture on their first tour and always admired it. By the time he was ready to answer the call, it was too late, sending Niall off.

Harry ran his hands over his face again. Certainly, Niall would have his ear for that one. Sure enough, seconds later, his phone rang again. "Hey," Harry answered, his voice heavy.

"Hey mate, you alright? You didn't answer, and you sound," he paused, "tired?"

"I'm fine. You woke me is all."

"Oh."

"Did you need something?" Harry loved talking with his best friend, but a much timider and hesitant voice had replaced the Irishman's typically quick and carefree one.

"No, no. Just checking in on you. Seeing how you're doing is all."

"I'm fine, Niall, really. Say what it is that you want to say, I know you have something," Harry huffed.

"I- all the boys, well really Liam and me, we want you to know that we're here for you and," he paused again. Harry thought he might've heard whispering on the other end, but perhaps he imagined it, "we know you're going through a tough time with everything- more than us for sure. Just- we're here if you want to talk."

Harry sighed as Niall continued his speech. Biding his time, he cast his gaze towards his window. A mourning dove landed on the fire escape and snatched a cockroach into his beak. The insect twisted its legs in an attempt to escape but soon gave up before the bird dove back down into the alley. Envy pinched his chest, but for which party, he did not know.

When Niall eventually stopped tripping over his words, Harry reassured him that he was fine and would call him in the case that he was not. They gave their goodbyes and hung up not long after. With no plans for the rest of the day, Harry allowed himself to fall back into slumber despite dinner hours approaching.

~~~

"I'm so glad you called, I needed this. And by the looks of it, you do too, babe," Sara shouted in Roe's ear over the thumping bass of a song she didn't recognize.

Roe tried her best to let everything go and allow the tequila to numb her throat. Secretly, she hoped it would numb everything above it as well, but so far the drink was failing on both fronts. She just went through the motions; take shots, dance, shout some song lyrics, repeat. These nights were rare, and they usually hit the reset button on her stress levels. It wasn't often she could let loose and not think about anything worrisome for a few hours.

But tonight, no matter what she did, she could only picture Ariel in the crowd next to her. Roe's heart twitched at every glimpse she caught of a brunette, and her chest burned because of it. She's not so sure she can blame it on the tequila.

Tequila, however, was to blame for her following actions. A simple 'hey' sat in the text box under Harry's contact for several moments, the blinking text cursor mocking her loneliness and indecision. She saved his number from work one night in case of emergency- whatever an emergency at an automobile shop would look like. She swore she wouldn't hit send, honestly, but a petite woman bumped into her shoulder and suddenly there's no way for it to be undone. She chewed her nails with a furrowed brow as the 'delivered' sign quickly turned into 'read' and three dots appeared underneath it before a reply came through.

'Who is this?' it read. Shit. This was a mistake.

'roe. sprry'

'Oh. Are you ok?' Roe looked up, sifting through her thoughts for a response.

A dancing couple caught her eye, distracting her from the task at hand. The woman nuzzled her nose in her partner's neck, swaying several beats too slowly for the song pumping through the speakers. The man didn't seem to mind, just swayed with her, arms resting naturally on her lower back. The rest of the dimly lit room meant nothing to them. The ceiling's strobe lights were shooting stars for all they cared.

Roe fleetingly wondered if she and Ariel ever looked like that. They never slow danced in the kitchen or stargazed together- "We're not a romcom, Roe," she would say. But, after long days of work and taking care of the kids, they laid atop each other on the scratchy living room couch, and Ariel hummed Something by The Beatles as she played with Roe's hair until they both drifted asleep.

Did it look like that? Natural?

The couple from before was now nowhere to be found and she worried about their mere existence at all. Rubbing a hand over her face, she responded to Harry, 'fine just drunk'. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she added, 'miss yu'.

This time, it took several minutes for a word back from Harry. Roe anxiously nursed a beer after deciding to take it easy on the tequila shots. The room spun, and she honestly needed to sit down, but she kept her eyes transfixed on her phone.

'Do you want to come over?'

With that, Roe made her way through the crowd towards Sara. It took a moment to locate her in the throng of bodies, but when she did, she made up an excuse of being tired and wanting to call it a night early. Sara understood because of course, she always does. Her kindness left Roe with a slight weightiness as she slipped her jean jacket on and stumbled to the train station a few blocks away.

Even in her state, Roe remembered the route to Harry's apartment. It wasn't a long journey from the bar, and soon enough, she knocked at his door. She barely had time to question her motives before it swung open to reveal Harry half-dressed. A pair of loose black sweatpants clung to his hips and a smug grin hung lazily from his lips. They spared but a moment as Roe stepped inside and dragged him closer by the drawstring of his pants, but despite their impatience, they first connected their lips leisurely.

"You taste like beer," he giggled.

"You," she traced her tongue down his neck and nipped at his collarbone, "smell like weed."

"Aren't we a pair?"

Roe kept her fingertips at his waistband, teasing gently as Harry guided them through the living room. Roe nearly pulled away, expecting to settle on the couch again, but Harry kept leading them down the hall. Every few steps, their footing fumbled, and they had to rely on the wall for stability. Harry's hand sank into her thigh at the bottom of her body-con skirt, and as the kiss grew heavier, the only thought running through Roe's mind was, take it off.

She would like to say they fell gracefully into the bed, but anyone in their right mind would know better. Roe's fingernails dug into the skin behind Harry's shoulder blade. She nearly apologized, but he let out a broken sigh and whispered, "again". Roe scratched again, this time dragging towards the sides of his ribs. They toyed like this for a few moments longer, reveling in each other's heat, rutting against each other. In the midst of this, her skirt had been pushed up to bunch around the thinner part of her waist, and Harry's sweatpants were nowhere to be found. Roe's jacket and tank top straps slipped from her shoulders, providing Harry the perfect opportunity to bite marks into her tanned skin. They rocked together, taking only what they needed from the other- perhaps an iota more. In the absence of speaking, their heavy breaths filled the room until Roe nearly felt the weight of it enclosing her every limb. By the time Harry's final moans subsided, Roe became hyperaware of the sweat beading on her forehead and the stickiness between her thighs. It made her nauseous.

They rolled away from each other slowly, disentangling limbs and the sheet that had become wedged between them. The bed had been slovenly before either of them fell into it; Roe could only imagine how badly the sheets needed to be washed now. She sighed and pushed herself from the bed, finding her clothes hurriedly. Harry stayed still and silent. Somehow after how close they had been only moments ago, they couldn't meet the gaze of the other. Roe wanted to ignore the panicked "shit" that fell from Harry's lips, but she couldn't. Weed paranoia would give a weak excuse for the tension in his face. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" A tall mirror rested against the wall beside Harry's dresser and Roe only took five seconds looking through it as she combed her bangs with her fingers to abandon it as a lost cause. She counted the lucky stars she hadn't worn makeup; if she had, there's no telling the kinds of looks she would get on the way home, and that's saying something. Here's to hoping the lame hour would allow her to stay somewhat anonymous. She gave herself one last once-over before casting her gaze to Harry, more than ready for his answer.

"Are you on the pill, by any chance?" he grimaced.

"Shit."

Roe allowed her face to fall into her hands for a moment. She quickly recovered, putting up a stone wall in her mind, and continued her mission of collecting her things. This time, her emotions were included.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," she replied sharper than she intended.

"I mean, all hope isn't lost, or whatever. I can give you money for a Plan-B or something. I very well can't go buy one, it'll end up in a magazine, and it'll probably be expensive for you." It sounded pretentious even before the sentence was fully formed. Even so, Roe merely shook her head and shoved her heels into her sneakers faster. "Fuck! I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean it like that."

"Doesn't matter if you meant it when we both know it's true."

"You could stay. We could figure something out?" It had been at least an hour since her last drink but she was still feeling the effects of it, and by the droop of his eyelids, Roe didn't trust Harry's sobriety either. The best thing for them was separating, Roe decided.

"Sorry. I just don't really do the whole morning thing. Plus, I've got to work tomorrow. Earn my own money."

"Ok," he clears his throat, "yeah, I get it. Sorry, again."

"It's fine," she demanded coolly.

Roe only looked back once as she left Harry's room. From their conversation, she half expected him to offer to walk her out. But, the telltale sound of a lighter clicking allowed her to take the final steps out the door with confidence. Her heart still beat quickly with adrenaline despite the quietness the Red Line provided her on her journey home. Winter showed no mercy, and by the time she stepped on the platform, her jean jacket barely provided any comfort. In some backward way, she was thankful for the sub-freezing temperatures. It kept her from overthinking the events of the night.

Roe unlocked her front door just shy of four in the morning. Despite her numb fingers and slight dizziness, she managed to go inside and kick off her sneakers without falling into a heap on the ground. Upon entering the living room, she noticed Lucas. He sat on the middle cushion of the couch, slouched so far down, she worried he would get a crick in his neck. A single lamp illuminated the left side of his face, but only just; they lost the original lampshade years ago and their mom replaced it with one from a thrift store that barely fit. So, the lamp now shone dimmer than ever, placed haphazardly on the floor in the far corner of the room (it was meant to be sitting on a table, but they never got around to buying one). All this to say, Roe could barely see Lucas, and yet, he looked worse than she felt.

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be having a girl's night at Sarah's? You know you could've stayed over there, I've got the kids tomorrow."

"Yeah, no, I know"

"You look fucked up."

"Thanks." Roe smiled sarcastically.

"Did you ditch her?"

Roe busied herself by picking up the stray action figures littered on the ground near the stairs and shrugged; "Didn't feel like staying. Why does it matter?"

He shrugged and muttered, "Just kind of a shitty thing to do to a friend."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that it's none of your business then."

Lucas threw up his hands in defense of her icy words, and watched her collect the remaining toys on the floor. When she finished, she dumped them in a bin next to the couch and finally retreated to her room. She debated peeling off all of her clothes and scrubbing the night off in a hot shower, but one glance at her bed convinced her otherwise. Without any further ceremony, Roe flicked off the lights and let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.

[starlightsearches]

This is so self-indulgent I should be shot just for thinking it. Anyways, have some teacher! reader x graduated! Eddie headcanons. Warnings for language and some sexual content.

Eddie's not so busy at his new mechanic job that he can't stop by Hellfire on some week nights to haze Mike on his DMing skills and tell a bunch of dirty jokes.

He's still in his coveralls—sleeves tied around his waist and his white shirt beneath stained with grease—dropping a pack of Mountain Dew on the table and slapping Dustin on the back.

The boys, of course, are happy to see him, but whatever greetings they offer are cut off as soon as they see the deep purple bruises sucked into the column of his throat.

Then there's screaming.

The campaign is put on immediate pause. All their energy is directed into demanding Eddie tell them who the fuck did that.

He grins, cheeky in a way that just screams this was the outcome he hoped for, waiting for them all to quiet down before he lets the words slipped out his curved lips.

"Oh those? My girlfriend gave them to me."

Que more screaming.

There's accusations of bullshit. And cries of betrayal (mostly from Dustin) for keeping it a secret. And, louder than all of that, demands to know who she is.

Eddie sits back in one of the chairs, head pillowed in his hands as they sling rapid-fire guesses at him.

That bartender you told us about? The girl at the record store? Or that one scooping ice cream when you took us to the movies? She was giving you eyes. (She was? Eddie blurts out, forgetting for a moment to act cool.)

He collects himself just long enough to drop a real bomb on them.

"Nah, it's none of them," he grins, "you know her."

Total fucking devastation.

The boys are faced with their greatest mystery yet: who is fucking Eddie the freak Munson?

Nobody can pay attention in class at a time like this; they pass notes between the spaces beneath their desks.

It shouldn't be that hard. They don't know that many girls.

Do you think it's nancy? Dustin scratches into the paper.

Lucas stifles a laugh before passing it to Mike. He makes a face.

Neither of the other boys have to read to know he's writing the word gross.

Lucas writes down maybe it's your mom, mike before showing Dustin over his shoulder. He fakes a coughing fit to cover his laughter.

Mike tosses the paper to the floor, punching Lucas on the arm instead of writing out a response.

Your eyes catch on the movement as you turn back from the board, voice strict when you let out a surprised "Mr. Wheeler."

Mike mumbles an apology, ducking his head to hide his blush. He's still uncomfortable with having eyes on him.

With their heads pointed down towards their notes, they're all to busy to notice that Hawkins High's newest faculty member is wearing a turtleneck on a day that's just a little too warm for a sweater.

When Eddie's head pops in the classroom door, though, Dustin's the first to connect the dots.

"Sorry," he smiles, holding out a brown sack lunch, "you forgot this morning."

Holy. Fucking. God.

The whole class breaks out in whispers.

Or almost the whole class.

Dustin, Lucas and Mike still have their jaws on the floor.

You take the lunch, roll your eyes. Eddie blows you a kiss from the door.

You're not at all the type of person he thought he'd fall for.

Mrs. O'Donnell retired at the beginning of the summer, right after he graduated.

(He's only about 70% sure that it wasn't his fault)

Whatever. It brought you here to Hawkins.

And Eddie loves being your boyfriend.

He wakes up in the mornings with you—even though he doesn't have to be to the garage for another few hours—just to watch you get ready and make you coffee just the way you like for your thermos.

He's also the reason you're late to work so often 👀

Eddie can't get e-fucking-nough of your little teacher outfits

He's obsessed with every pair of sheer tights and tight little pencil skirts and the buttons on your tops.

All of your stockings have snags in them from his rings >:(

He sits you on the tabletop the second you get home so he can pet his hands over your thighs and under your hemlines.

That's if he waits until you get home.

Grading late? Eddie will keep you company.

. . . or make out with you on your desk.

He shows up on your prep period sometimes, offering a smile and a "just missed you, baby."

And it always ends with you pinned up against the chalkboard.

You gotta buy more turtlenecks because he cannot keep his hands or his mouth off you.

You'd never make fun of him for repeating his senior year twice.

And hearing you say something like "you're so smart, Eddie"…….

praise kink activated

It just means a lot coming from you, you know? He's not getting a ton of validation, and you've got to know what you're talking about, since you're a teacher and all.

He'll call you teach when he wants to tease you.

Knocks on the wall by your door before Hellfire.

"Hope my kids aren't giving you any trouble, teach."

The boys do not know how to handle this.

Not like they'd even think of being dicks in your class, but still, Eddie can be a little scary sometimes.

So they're on their best behavior.

It's still kind of weird, though.

But not for Eddie.

Because '86 was his fuckin' year.

[lovecanyon]

Please I’m begging part three please

OKLAHOMA ?

euphoria au

dealer!harry x jacobs!reader

(masterlist)

-

“Do you know why Rue is coming around asking me and Fez for money for this so called plan she has.” Harry asks Y/N who was rummaging through her decorated locker.

“I don’t know about it but I’ll ask.” She tells her boyfriend before continuing. “Also! I forgot to tell you I’m helping Lexi out with her play so I can’t go with you after school.”

“The Oklahoma one?” Harry furrows his brows which makes Y/N roll her eyes.

“No the drama club is doing Oklahoma Harry.” She says as she shuts her locker leaving him dumbfounded.

“Well okay.”

-

During passing period Rue had dragged Y/N to the bathroom while Harry waited for them to go to their next class.

“I’d actually love for you to read it.” Lexi smiles at Rue as she washes her hands.

“You definitely should. It’s amazing.” Y/N says which makes Lexi’s smile grow even bigger.

Earlier in the week she had sent the Jacobs a copy of the script for approval. Immediately after Y/N had finished reading it Lexi got a call from her gushing over the work.

“Yeah for sure. Just uh, sent it to me.” Rue tells Lexi and Y/N who nod their heads.

As Y/N dries her hands with a paper towel she hears a familiar voice that she was dreading.

“Hey Rue Rue.”

“Oh hi Cass.” Rue greets the blonde as she wipes her hands on her black pants attempting to dry them.

Y/N turns around to see Cassie with her blonde hair up, kind of like beauty queen style. Her outfit was a blue and white checkered dress that made her look like a country singer.

“Wait, are you in the play.” Rue speaks up which makes Y/N furrow her brows.

“What play?”

“Lexi’s play.” Rue replies rather quickly.

“What do you mean Lexi’s play?” Cassie questions confused.

“Uh the play that Lexi wrote.” Rue says turning around to Lexi as Y/N side eyed the blonde who looked on the verge of a breakdown.

“Oklahoma.” Lexi responds in her usual soft voice.

“What?” Cassie furrows her brows as she stops digging in her makeup bag.

“The plays called Oklahoma?” Rue questions bewildered as Y/N shakes her head.

“No the drama clubs doing Oklahoma.” Y/N speaks up as she walks to the trash to throw away her used paper towel.

It was silent for a moment only the rustling from other girls in the bathroom was heard.

“Oh my god. Do I look like I’m in Oklahoma?” Cassie asks in a worried tone.

“Why would your play be set in Oklahoma?” Rue shrugs her shoulders being seemingly perplexed once again.

“You thought I was auditioning for Oklahoma.” Cassie responds offended.

“I haven’t read it….so.”

“Are you making fun of me or did you actually think I was auditioning for Oklahoma.” The blonde was now very timid.

Behind Cassie, Lexi was waving her hands at Rue to stop speaking but Maddy and Kat walking in the bathroom stops her.

“Why the fuck would you audition for Oklahoma?” Maddy speaks up making her presence known.

Y/N was greeted by Kat and Maddy giving her a kiss on the cheek which makes Cassie falter. 

“I’m not!” Cassie defensively tells Maddy.

“Then why the fuck do you look like your auditioning for Oklahoma?” Maddy says as she looks at herself in the mirror fixing her hair.

“Do I?”

“Yes.” Kat swiftly answers Cassie’s question.

“Has everyone read Oklahoma but me?” Rue furrows her brows which makes Y/N shake her head and look at Kat with an amused smile.

Of course Rue didn’t know that Oklahoma was not something you read. She was Rue.

“Oklahoma’s not like a play you read.” Kat retorts as Maddy continues to look at herself in the mirror.

“Rue are you on drugs?” Cassie suddenly turns to Rue.

“Yes.”

A bunch of different replies come from all the girls including Y/N which made Rue grow nervous.

“Oh I’ve just—Nah I’ve just been smoking a little bit of weed.” Rue stutters out.

Kat quickly changes the conversation topic back onto Cassie.

“Wait, I don’t understand. If you’re not auditioning for Oklahoma then why do you look like that?” Kat questions the older Howard sibling.

“Like what!” Cassie shouts trying to find out if she looked decent or not.

“Like a country music star.” Maddy retorts looking Cassie up and down.

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Bitch you better be joking.” Maddy nods her head in disbelief.

“Are you okay Cass?” Kat questions the blonde who was extremely tense.

Instead of replying Cassie just stares straight at herself in the mirror. Weird.

-

“Fuck!”

Right when Harry walks in he sees Y/N’s father Cal tied up with blood dripping down his face. Ashtray was looking at the man with fury in his eyes.

“Hey! What the hell is happening?” Harry widens his eyes.

“Oh great your here.” Ash sighs before continuing to talk. “Caught this motherfucker right here sitting in his truck outside.”

“Harry your involved with them—“

Cal gets quickly cut off by Ashtray hitting him with a gun.

“Shut the fuck up.” Ash grits out.

“W-where’s my d-daughter? I-is she—“

“I said shut the fuck up!” Ashtray shouts as he once again hits Cal with the gun.

“Okay man we get it.” Fez speaks up softly watching Cal wipe his bloody face.

Harry just stands there watching until he remembers Rue was in his car waiting for him. After school she had begged him to drop her off at home because she had a business meeting with “someone”.

“You telling me you had sex with Jewl?“

That sentence snaps Harry out of his trance. Y/N’s dad fucked her best friend?

“Who’s Jewl?” Faye questions which makes Harry give her a heavy glare. He didn’t know why she was still here.

“I just want the disk?”

“What disk?”

“Of Jewl and I.”

“You recorded you and your daughter’s best friend having sex!” Harry raises his voice which makes Fez widen his eyes.

“Holy shit. You fucked your daughters best friend?” Faye whispers under her breath.

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @needyghosts @peterparkerbae @deadass1011 @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @drphilssoulmate @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @evanjh @samaraaaaa @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @galacticharrys @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @mexicosuitrry @filmsbyameilia @twilightrry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess

[plutominho]

love language || i.n

✧ WRITTEN BY: max

✧ GENRE: childhood friends to lovers, college au, valentine’s day au, fluff

✧ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: valentine’s day childhood f2l based on this prompt from this post (from @creativepromptsforwriting):

When they were in elementary school, they created a secret language to avoid their teachers reading their notes they passed back and forth in class. Now one of them uses that language to write a love letter.

✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

✧ NOTES/WARNINGS: use of language; you and jeongin are the same age in this (born 2001); one instance of embarrassing 12-year-old cringe; imagine title is stolen from the ariana grande song of the same name

✧ TAGLIST: @svtbabiesrecs @svtbabies​ @felix-neverbad​ (message me if you want to be on the taglist!)

hey hey here’s the jeongin valentine’s day imagine! enjoy besties 💖

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

you wiped the dust off of a box you'd gotten from the attic, and you grimaced at the feeling of dust on your hand. bad idea.

you turned around and wiped your hand on jeongin’s back. the boy spun around, a look of betrayal on his face. “what was that?”

“i had dust on my hand.” you shrugged.

he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘whatever’ and turned back around. “do you remember the secret language we had back in middle school?”

you shook your head as you racked your brain for any memory of a secret language.

“well, it was less of a language and more for passing notes…”

he handed you a paper that looked like it had been folded and unfolded millions of times. you handled it gently, not wanting it to rip at the seams.

scanning over the paper of coded symbols matched to their letter in the alphabet jogged your memory, and it all came back in bits and pieces.

“oh my god, i completely forgot about this…” you looked up in happiness at jeongin, being hit with a wave of nostalgia as you realized just how long the two of you had known each other.

“me too, me too…” he had more papers in his hand, all varying in size. “you wanna decode these? i think they’re from high school and middle school.”

“oh…” you made a face, not really wanting to relive your old school notes. but as long as it was in the past… “sure, why not?”

he beamed, and the two of you scrambled around jeongin’s house to get pens and papers.

the two of you sat across from each other on his bed, dividing the notes among yourselves and getting to work on decoding. you cringed with each letter you translated, your face heating up in embarrassment, and there was no one to blame but yourself.

you went through your set of letters relatively quickly, just wanting to get it over with (and beat jeongin…) and you sat back against the wall, watching jeongin finish his last few words.

jeongin finished and sat next to you against the wall. he extended his legs, and his feet hung off of the bed. it was only then you realized his room looked much smaller than you’d remembered. maybe it was because the two of you had grown so much since you’d last been here.

you cringed at the notes the two of you had written each other, any feeling of nostalgia being washed away by another wave of embarrassment at your past self.

“why are these so…”

“bad?”

“i think ‘bad’ is an understatement, y/n. i mean, look at this one.”

jeongin pulled out one of the index cards he decoded and the piece of scratch paper that matched. he pointed at a line on the card, trying to hold back his giggles as he recited the translation. “that says, ‘omg i was walking behind lia and she was telling her friend she went up a bra size!’” he paused to mimic the ‘:O’ you drew in after the exclamation point.

you wanted to shrivel up inside, especially when you remembered exactly who lia was—jeongin’s 7th-grade crush. “okay that’s eno—”

“‘i can’t believe this,’” he continued, ignoring your protests. “‘she’s going to have boys all over her! i’ve been the same size since i was in 5th grade, no one is ever gonna love me. i know she’s a year above us but still… >:(’”

he stopped reading, furrowing his brows and pouting his lips at you, copying your drawing at the end of the note before bursting into laughter.

you felt the tips of your ears burn red, and you buried your face in your hands. you groaned out of embarrassment, letting your body fall against jeongin’s shoulder.

jeongin took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and let out a chuckle, immediately wrapping his arm around you as he rubbed your back.

he stayed quiet, occasionally patting your back and mumbling a half-sarcastic “there, there” as you tried to compose yourself.

after you got out all your embarrassment for your 12-year-old self for whatever that was, you removed yourself from the comfort of jeongin’s shoulder.

wait, comfort?

and the note you wrote seemed so… jealous? even if it was a long time ago, why would you—

oh, crap.

even when you sat back up, the boy kept his arm around your shoulders as he smirked at you, almost cockily. “how does it feel being the more embarrassing of the two of us?”

you glared at him before shoving his arm off of you.

“shut up, jeongin.”

"i don't know if i want to do this."

"jeongin, we did not walk all the way across campus just for you to chicken out."

he didn't respond, simply staring at the candygram booth a few feet in front of him.

"just go send your telegram or whatever, we don't have all day." you pushed him forward slightly, and he turned his head to glare at you.

he huffed. "it's a candygram, dumbass."

you didn't respond, simply watching him as he asked for one ‘candygram' from the student body leader at the table.

he was handed a pink slip of paper and directed over to another table nearby. he took a pen and addressed the candygram.

you couldn't help but wonder who he was sending it to, so you slowly walked up behind him, trying not to make any noise.

"i can hear you, y’know.”

you laughed at your failed attempt of snooping, before backing up. "why can't i know who you're sending it to?" you whined.

"because, if this goes bad, it'll be embarrassing. i'd rather tell you if it goes well after. choose a candy?"

you chose a lollipop, handing it to him he pulled a small folded piece of paper out of his pocket, stapling both of the items to the small pink paper.

he handed the now-complete candy gram back to the student body leader, thanking them before swiftly turning on his heel to leave.

you ran after him, confused. "what was that? what's on the paper?"

he furrowed his brows at you. "i didn't tell you?"

you shook your head, and he formed an o with his lips. "oh, i'm telling someone i like them. that's what was on the paper."

"oh? jeongin, that's great!"

it wasn't great. you'd rather die than admit it aloud, but you were jealous. a pang of jealousy struck your heart when he said those words, but what were you to do about it?

"i sent it anonymously, though," he admitted sheepishly. your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, hoping that whoever received his candygram wouldn't recognize his handwriting.

you laughed it off, though, making sure not to show any signs of jealousy. "what a pussy. i would've made you sign your name, if i’d known."

if you had known, you would've set that pink piece of paper on fire.

"are you okay?" jeongin looked at you, a mix of disgust and concern in his features. "your eye is doing the…. the thing.”

you looked at him briefly before looking forward again. "my eye isn't doing…. a thing.”

he scoffed, "yes, it is. it's twitching and you can't focus anywhere, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" you interjected, just a bit louder than you'd intended.

jeongin widened his eyes in surprise, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "damn, okay okay my bad, i guess.”

"yeah, your bad! don't you have a class in ten minutes you need to get to?" you crossed your arms and kept your eyes glued to the ground as you word-vomited, spitting out the first excuse you could think of to end the conversation. a lame excuse, yeah, but it seemed to work.

"yeah, and so do you, you weirdo, in case you forgot we have that class together." he grabbed your hand and walked in the direction of the building where your english 101 class was.

you stumbled a bit before matching his pace, avoiding looking at him or your now-intertwined hands.

"you sure you're okay?" he asked once more.

you nodded, your eyes still locked on the cement below you. "yeah. i'm okay."

"if this is about the candygram, you know you can technically buy one for yourself, right? it’s pretty easy to fudge.”

you scoffed. "a little late for that, don't you think?"

in hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

ah, valentine's day.

a day of love, chocolates, and... horny young adult couples.

for a fairly large university, you expected to spend less of your energy trying to dodge them, but they were in every area on campus you stepped foot in—especially the dorms.

you hated it.

you dragged yourself back to your dorm, after being in a shitty mood all day. maybe if you had a boyfriend, you wouldn't hate this day as much.

but it's whatever. less money for you to spend, you figured.

you stopped on the first floor to pick up your mail. you yawned as you stuck the key in the hole and opened your mailbox, but abruptly stopped when you saw a pink slip hovering above the rest of your mail, supported by a piece of candy.

your heart fluttered as you realized you'd been sent a candygram. you reached to grab it, and when you pulled it out the end of the paper sagged from the weight of the lollipop stapled to it.

you flipped it over to remove the candy, and you almost dropped the paper in your hand. attached between the lollipop and the candygram was a folded piece of paper, and you immediately knew who it was from.

inhaling sharply, you flipped over the paper again to check the handwriting, and only confirmed your suspicion. jeongin had sent you that candygram.

you grabbed the rest of your mail in a hurry before scrambling up the flight of stairs and down the hall to your dorm.

you tugged the lollipop you had chosen just a few days prior, unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth to keep you somewhat occupied. your hands shook as your fingers grazed over the white slip of paper, folded so precisely that it only confirmed your hypothesis again.

slowly unfolding it, your jitters were immediately shut down when you saw obscure shapes and dots arranged in neat lines across the paper.

"that sneaky brat," you mumbled to yourself, seeing the extra attached paper with handwritten code on it. it had been weeks since that visit back home, when you and jeongin found your old notes with that goddamn code.

this was going to be interesting.

you took a look at the one of the notes that came with the lollipop… well, the one uncoded one.

y/n,

by the time you're reading this, you'll know who i am. but where was the excitement in just a plain letter? get to work!

love,

you know who ♡

you set the key down on your desk alongside the (very long) coded letter as you got a pen and piece of scratch paper.

you grumbled to yourself as you got to work, rewriting the letter in characters you could read. each letter you decoded formed a word, stringing into sentences that only made your nerves build up inside of you again.

when you finished, you couldn't bring yourself to read what you'd written in full. you took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair as you looked up at the ceiling. you knew what the letter said—you had just unraveled the mystery yourself. but it would be different this time, reading it without any pauses.

readjusting your position, you picked up the letter and took a deep breath to compose yourself as much as possible as you read.

i'm sorry you had to find out this way, but i don't think we should be friends anymore…

you would’ve felt your heart sink to your stomach, if you hadn’t already had an idea of what was next.

…we should be lovers instead.

my y/n,

since we were little kids, you’ve been everything i needed and more. we grew up together, and i hope we can grow old together. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. it’s always been you.

i love you.

you read it once, then immediately set the paper down and put your hand over your mouth, leaning back in your seat. a wave of emotions swept over you as you leaned forward and read it again and again, your heart always fluttering whenever you read those last three words.

then, as if a lightswitch clicked in your brain, you began scouring your desk drawer for a small piece of paper and grabbing a pen, scribbling on a scratch sheet of paper to make sure it worked.

you grabbed the code that jeongin included in his candygram, and you prepared to write a letter of your own. you wrote two words; ‘dear jeongin,’ and stopped. what were you supposed to say? you’d never been one to write letters. birthday cards were always an open and shut ‘happy birthday, hope you have an amazing day!’

so how were you supposed to write a whole love letter?

you groaned, sitting back in your seat again. you ran through different possible phrases and letters, but none of them seemed right.

you stopped after several minutes to take a break. the more you thought about what to write, the more muddled your mind became, so you needed to step back.

you threw yourself onto your bed and exhaled loudly. were you overthinking this? was it supposed to frustrate you to the point where your head began to pound?

did jeongin feel the same way when he wrote his?

you got up momentarily to grab his letter from your desk, before flopping back on your bed again. holding the paper gently in your hands, you held it up above you and your eyes glazed over the letters imprinted on the paper. it looked so simple, the way his words were so concise yet so elegant, seamed together neatly in a way only jeongin could do.

for all you knew, the right words came to him perfectly.

you let out a sigh after a minute of rereading his letter before setting the paper aside. you rolled off your bed and sat back at your desk.

you took a deep breath, and began writing whatever you felt as a response to his letter.

my jeongin,

since we were little kids, you’ve also been my everything. i guess deep down, i’ve always known that you were the one for me. all the memories we’ve made together only make me want more, too.

i’ll be all yours for as long as you want, as long as you’ll have me.

i love you.

y/n.

you sat back, a hand over your mouth at how naturally the words flowed out onto the paper. you felt giddy all of a sudden, like you were back in 7th grade, passing notes to one another in the back of math class.

you folded it, put your letter along with the code in a small envelope, and sealed it. it was now or never.

outside of jeongin’s dorm, you lifted your hand to knock on the door, but hesitated. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if this was all some sick joke? but he’d never do that to you, right?

maybe he wasn’t even home, and you could just do this later. that would be really easy. half of you wanted that to be true, the other half just wanting to get this over with.

all of a sudden, you found yourself second guessing yourself. did you really want to do this? well, you have to. but not really. but you couldn’t just say nothing…

you lowered your hand, but couldn’t bring yourself to walk away. you took a deep breath, and made a plan in your head.

you knock on the door, jeongin opens it, you hand him the letter, and get the hell out.

easier said than done, but might as well.

you knocked on the door, before nervously taking a small step back and shifting your weight from one foot to another. you looked at the ground in anticipation.

the door swung open, and your eyes met jeongin’s, but you quickly looked away. the two of you stood like deer caught in headlights, and you knew that he knew why you were there.

“this is for you.”

you raised the envelope in your hand, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you glued your eyes on the wall next to his door as you mumbled a goodbye, turning to go back home.

“wait, y/n?”

this was definitely not part of the plan.

you turned back around, and jeongin was leaning out of the doorframe, your envelope still in one of his hands.

“do you want to stay, and we can talk?”

it took everything in your power not to check him out as he ran a hand through his hair, nervously pressing his lips together.

you just smiled and nodded, afraid of what your voice might sound like if you spoke too soon.

he held the door open for you as you walked in, shutting it behind the both of you as he walked past you taking your shoes off.

he went into the kitchen, and you followed, awkwardly standing a few feet away from him as you watched him. you’d been here before several times, but the atmosphere was different this time.

you nervously leaned against the counter as you watched him open the envelope. he pulled out the code first and immediately set it down on the counter with a small smile, knowing what he was in for.

then he pulled out the actual letter, and you watched him, amazed at how he read the letter without needing to refer to the key.

the small smile he had on his face grew into an ear to ear grin, reading it over and over again as he laughed softly to himself. the tips of his ears burned red, but he played it off as he turned to face you, leaning back on the kitchen counter.

“as long as i’ll have you?” he questioned, the letter still in hand.

it seemed as though all the blood in your body rushed to your face, all thanks to jeongin quoting the last line from your letter.

“if you invited me in just to tease me, i might as well just leave.” you said, a small smile on your face.

he took a step closer to you. “who said i wanted you to leave?”

“well…”

he smiled lopsidedly at you, and you were at a loss for words for the second time that day. it was so embarrassing; being wrapped around his finger like this.

“as long as i’ll have you… wow. that’s a big commitment you made.”

jeongin laughed softly and used one finger to tilt your head up to look at him. it was only then it truly hit you just how close he had gotten to you.

your faces were mere inches apart, and your breath hitched as your eyes locked with his. he searched your eyes for any sign of hesitation, before his gaze flickered slightly down to the bottom of your face.

you’d never been this close to him, and you studied his features as he looked back at your eyes, and the corners of your lips curled up into a small smile.

he leaned forward, giving you just enough time to pull away if you wanted, but when you didn’t, he crashed his lips onto yours.

you gasped in surprise, standing up straight to reach his height and he mumbled a ‘sorry’ against your lips before snaking a hand around your waist to pull you closer.

your hands reached around to the back of his neck, your fingertips touching the uneven ends of his hair, which had grown just long enough for you to play with as he kissed you.

he slowly pulled away after a few seconds, his lips lingering against yours, never wanting to lose contact.

he smiled sweetly at you. “i know i said it already in my letter, but… i love you.”

you smiled, happy to hear those three little words coming from him. “i love you, too.”

“…it’s a lot more embarrassing when you say it out loud,” jeongin laughed softly, his hand coming up to cover his face.

“aww, are you blushing? do i make you flustered?” you teased, relishing in your ability to make him embarrassed.

he shook his head and pulled you into a hug, hiding his face from you as he rested his head on your shoulder. you couldn’t help but melt at his reaction as you wrapped your arms around him.

to his disdain, however, all the love and adoration you had for him would never stop you from taking another jab at him.

“you know, it’s funny how you made fun of me for my letter when you wrote yours first.”

jeongin let out a whine at this, making you snicker.

you pulled back a little to look at him. “how does it feel to be the cheesier one out of the two of us?”

he hugged you closer so he could hide his face again. “shut upppp,” he whined once more, and you could hear the little pout he was undoubtedly wearing as he spoke.

you just smiled and tightened your arms around him, snuggling into his hold.

“besides,” he added, burying his face in your shoulder, “it was worth it.”

you chuckled lightly. “you’re just proving my point, sweetheart.”

[letsskiptothewedding]

✧ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ? ..

summary: ayato is running errands for the first time in a while when he has to go pick up a kimono for his younger sister. ( things go down quickly from here in terms of the main characters ego )

pairing: ayato x she/her!reader

a/n: PLEASE listen to love ? while you read this fic heuhsgdnegah ( if ure a kmusic anti leave . ), also part 2 …. maybe …. ( i have some ideas so .. )

“bye, y/n. i’m sure you can handle this batch of clients. we’re closing soon anyway!” — “what are you-“ and before y/n could finish her sentence, mio was gone after patting her on her shoulder, shuffling away from the kimono stand. staring after her in disbelief, y/n huffed. “is she serious?”, she mumbled, slightly shuddering and grabbing the sleeves of her kimono to shield her body from the cool spring wind.

somebody cleared their throat before her. “the owner is busy then, i suppose?” y/n’s eyes darted to the customer before her. “oh … kamisato ayato.”

she blinked a few times. then it finally dawned on her. “oh! mister kamisato! i’m so sorry, sir, what can i help you with?” she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, straightening her posture and stepping to the cash register. in her embarrassment she completely forgot to answer his question. mio, full name ogura mio, was in fact her boss and quite busy this evening. she had a date, actually, with one of bantan sango’s detectives. y/n forgot his name but it was something with a y, of that she was sure ..

“my sister had a kimono that needed fixing, my errand runner told me it should be done by now?” he looked at her quite amused which annoyed y/n a little bit; customers were supposed to take her seriously, dammit! but then she got caught up on the word ‘errand runner’. why was kamisato ayato, head of the highly politically influential kamisato clan, strolling around inazuma city for such trivial matters like clothing? y/n thought it to be quite rude to ask though, so she refrained from enquiring further.

“it should be ready then. what number did you get for your order, sir?” his eyebrow perked up as if he had just remembered something and he rustled around in his kim- wait. y/n had noticed something odd. why was he wearing a suit? with long, traditional sleeves as if they were made for a kimono? he sure is curious, she thought, though not neglecting the fact that his suit was incredibly well tailored and of good craftsmanship. the blue in his collar area really fit his blue-ish hair. incredibly impressive.

“my servant gave me this? i don’t know whether or not this is the information you need but this is all he gave me. his name is thoma, you might know him.” he handed her a crumpled piece of paper and she attempted to decipher it, after unfoldening and flattening it. my god, his hand writing was horrendous. “yes i do know thoma, i see him from time to time in the city. um, actually … please give me a second, sir.” she turned around to the lockers, still staring at the piece of paper. if you squinted really hard, the first number could be a 2 .. then the second one might be a five.

hastily, for she could not afford to keep her high-class client waiting any longer, she scanned the numbers on the lockers for the number 25. as she reached out to grab the key, she prayed to the archons for it to be the right safe, since she didn’t want to find out what would happen if it took any longer. she already wasted so much time thinking about unnecessary clothing details and what not. and she had even badmouthed her boss in front of a politician! he seemed very nice but so did every other politician when they let themselves show to the common folk; better not risk anything.

prying the slightly rusty locker open ( it was in the row of very important lockers that were only used for high maintenance clientele which was very sparsely the case among their customers ), she spotted a kimono cleanly folded in it; from the colors she could tell it was kamisato ayaka’s. she had seen her strolling around with the firework maker’s daughter yoimiya a while ago, where yoimiya, who she considered her friend, had waved at her and miss kamisato had looked into her direction. mio had noticed it and couldn’t talk about anything else for the rest of her shift.

grabbing the kimono, she layed it onto the counter and turned to the cash register. “yes, this was indeed all i needed, thank you, sir.” she smiled at him and was surprised to see him gently flattening a crease in his sister’s kimono. hearing her address him, he gave her an uplifting smile. she noticed the mole under his eye, going along with the movement of his entire face. quite charming. “i’m glad. i usually do not run my errands myself, so i am a little … inexperienced, shall i say.” he tucked his hand in his long sleeve, continuing to beam down at her. “i probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t mention it, sir. not that you, um, seem like you are, i mean, inexperienced, uhm ..”

y/n wanted to die. this was horrible. he was so authoritative but nice at the same time it was making her all wobbly and uneasy. to her delight, he let out a small chuckle, covering his mouth with his sleeve. as if he is mocking her shyness, she thought and her thoughts darkened again immediately. “i understand what you are trying to say, miss. do not worry, i did not think that you were trying to insult me.” she sighed inwardly in relief, swishing some of her hair out of her face nervously. “thank god, i mean, that’s good .. then ..” she began typing into the cash register, she couldn’t bear to look at his face any longer. “that would be 3 million mora, please.” even she was shocked at the price, even though no kimono of their store costed under 1.5 million mora.

of course that amount of money was nothing for kamisato ayato and he payed her right there, on the spot, with no transactions or anything which shocked y/n even more than the price. wow, rich people really have it easy, she thought without any trace of envy; how worrisome, you probably could get robbed at any moment and lose a good chunk of money. well, for him it probably wouldn’t even scratch the surface of the amount of mora he posessed.

without her noticing, his heart felt kind of heavy when he saw her eyes widen at his money.

“thank you kindly, sir, i hope you will consider our services again in the future!” — “maybe i will.” he winked at her and bowed slightly. as he was turning to leave, he heard her whisper a quiet “oh my god, what just happened”, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Y/NNNN!!”, someone suddenly exclaimed. when ayato turned to find the source of the cry, he saw a black haired man standing in front of the kimono shop, leaning over the counter to talk with his previous seller. “oh, kazune. what’s up?”

feeling bewildered by the sudden change of tone and attitude, ayato slowed his steps to an unnormal pace which anyone who was paying attention would’ve found very odd. “nothin’ much, just waiting for you to finish up.” was that her boyfriend?, ayato wondered. it was not his place to know but well .. it was kind of his job to pry into personal affairs and find out secrets. “what do you mean? is there a big event or something?”

by the sounds of the cash register making a vrooming noise, ayato could tell that she was closing up. had his time management become so bad that he seriously had been the last customer? “my god, you really are dense sometimes, babe.” the spy froze for a split second at this. y/n meanwhile was rolling her eyes at her friend; well, acquaintance . “don’t call me that, man, it’s weird. also, if you’re trying to ask me out again, it’s not happening. so literally just go home, dude.” she grabbed her stuff from the empty space underneath the counter and reached for the key to lock up the shop when kazune suddenly snatched it right before her eyes.

“what the hell? give it to me, right now.” — “ain’t no way. don’t you see” ( they were both hopping around at this point, trying to either get or keep the key ) “i’m tryin’ my hardest to get you to go out with me; i’ve literally asked every day now and you still don’t even wanna give us” ( y/n kicked him in the shin ) “OW!”

“i don’t need to give us a chance. if you wanna hangout like friends, that’s fine. but bro, i told you every time that i don’t like you like that. so now be a good boy and let me close the goddamn shop, okay?” y/n huffed, tucking her hair behind her ears that had become loose from all the jumping she had done just seconds earlier. grumbling something, kazuna retreated towards his house, hobbling dramatically as if he was a wounded soldier that had just returned from a thirty year long war. “idiot.”, she mumbled, closing the heavy metal blinds and locking it. she put the key in her purse when she noticed a light blue headed top drifting above the inzuman night crowd. stupid mole snob, she thought, amused by the thought of kamisato ayato being an exceptionally slow walker. he of course had other intentions, none of which he was planning to reveal to her anytime soon.

[imaddicted2hs]

A one shot of enemies to friends to lovers

Another one shot yes because i don't feel like continuing the series i started just yet.

This is not my best work why lie. I could have done way better but i guess i got too excited to just finish it. Though promise, next post will be better than this because i will give it time.

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Word Count- 2,527

warnings- none

happy reading!!

Nothing is better than a romantic weather with pink skies and soft breeze carrying a sweet smell of wet leaves. But sitting with your legs on the dashboard as you and your friend (with whom you are secretly in love with) jam together to the songs loudly, driving past wide, empty fields, is a cherry on the top really. "Are we ever going to make a stop or our plan is to drive until the fuel tank is empty?" He doesn't answer right away. I stare at his side profile, which I dare to say is perfect, waiting for a response. "I know it's hard for you to stay still in a place like a good pup, but 10 more minutes babe, we are almost at our motel." I dramatically gasp and smack his arm which makes him chuckle.

Long story short, few months back as I was walking past the school lab, my ears couldn't help but listen to someone talk through the paper thin walls. It was that cocky voice which I could recognize from miles away. Harry Styles. My biggest enemy and academic rival. If someone told me at the time that I'll be hanging out with him and secretly even like him a lot, I would have declared that person delusional. He and I had all the same classes and what can I say other than that everyone knew if we got a chance to stab each other to death we wouldn't let it slide. He wanted to be the one to score the most and so did I. We pulled all sort of pranks just to bring the other one down at our level. Ms. Grey, our English professor never gave any of us the chance to answer in class because it all ended with torn notebooks, weird drawings on the faces and the class hooting. Yes we both have had a perfect record other than those countless detentions because of each other. "UGH finally. I have been dying to pee and take a shower." I see him roll his eyes but I don't pay any mind to it because I'm too busy collecting my stuff and leaving the old red mustang. My grandmother was crazy about cars and made sure to leave the best one of her collections for her best granddaughter that is me. "Can we have a room with two single beds for one night? Oh and can you please check if you have the once with a balcony." As the receptionist in front of me does her thing, I look out of the window as Harry takes out his stuff from the backseat and closes the door. Not for a single second I take my eyes off of him until the lady that was long forgotten by me clears her throat for my attention. "Oh yeah sorry." I smile awkwardly as I pick up the key kept in front of me. "Gimme the keys I'll open the door, make the payment and keep the stuff so that you can go collect your stuff you forgot in the backseat and lock the car because you brought the keys with yourself." I sigh and hand him the key and make a quick run outside.

I'm huffing like a mad person as I finally reach the fourth floor because this place didn't have an elevator. My eyes widen as I hear the shower running and I don't waste a second to bang on the door and shout "how dare you, you cheater! You knew I wanted to use the bathroom badly you cruel ass." I whine. I sit angrily on the bed staring at the door so that as soon as it opens I can ruin his pretty face with my nails and maybe bite him so that his body hurts. He opens the door and before I get to throw my tantrum I notice that he is fully dressed and his hair is dry. "But-" he cuts me off "it wasn't in the best condition and you are extremely crazy about hygiene so I just ran some water so that it looks less dirty." I'm embarrassed. "Oh my god I-" "Go use it before you make a mess here" he chuckles and before I turn even more red I leave the room faster than Flash himself. On the first day of the semester last year, he slimed me just because I took his favourite seat and he had to sit in the last row. It was funny to see his face during the whole class and hearing his tone as he introduced himself. Even if I had to face the consequences and get slimed in the end, it was worth it. And today he gave a thought to my pet peeve which has my mind all puzzled. And I even forgot to bring a clean pair of clothes with me inside. I'll have to go out in the towel. I suck in a long breath and open the door to find him on the bed scrolling through his phone. "Can you please close your eyes?" He looks directly at me totally still and the moment I see something change in his eyes he quickly mutters a sure and looks away with his eyes clamped shut before I can figure out the look.

The series of events has been too embarrassing for my liking and I'm almost at the brink of overthinking. "Meet me downstairs in an hour okay?" "Don't forget the whipped cream for me." "Alright and wear a jacket, it gets cold at night." I hum in response and he leaves. What exactly are we doing here? Well after a prank war, unlimited broken pens, thousands of notes lost, the headmaster was fed up with us. We were called in the office after I had pulled a pretty big prank on him which was dope but he denied that wholeheartedly. He hated cats, what an abomination right? So I came early in the morning, and just before the bell, I put not 1 but 4 kittens and a cat in his locker. More to my luck, he was late that day and didn't take the necessary precautions we used to whenever we opened our lockers because locker pranks were the most common ones. He opened it in a hurry and was met with the smallest kitten ready to leap on him. The look on his face as he shrieked didn't go uncaptured ofcourse. He was horrified and I was grinning like the most evil creature. The other two kittens with the help of his hoody climbed on him and started licking his face as he tried to shoo them out of his locker. The cat was the most stubborn and the dirty looks Harry gave to her were too funny. I just couldn't stop laughing. As he finally managed to get rid of them, they all were not in his favour as they started roaming in the corridor creating noises. Teachers who were teaching with the doors open stepped out just to give Harry the annoyed looks while he tried to escape from the crime scene. Even the universe was against him because the smallest kitten had made his way into his bag and made an appearance while Professor Keith was trying to explain the economics crisis. Whole class turned into a chaos as the kitten destroyed the benches with his scratches and other students pushed each other to pet the little devil. This was the limit I guess because we were both sitting in front of the headmaster as he wrote us a 5 days suspension letter. We argued like crazy until he asked us to settle the matter between us right there right then and promise each other to let the whole school live peacefully. We got rid of the suspension letter disaster and as I started to walk out in the corridor he called my name and said he wanted to talk. "Let's call off the war and make a bet." "I'm all ears." "Whoever has the higher GPA in the semester end will get a fully paid one day trip from the loser." I rolled my eyes at him as I laughed just to realise he was serious. "Okay then it's a bet. Also the winner gets the most expensive drink on the Starbucks menu with all the toppings." I never liked coffee but it was a pretty good idea to make one's pocket hurt. He throwed a terrified look which quickly changed into a neutral expression before he nodded and walked away as I stared at his tall figure.

From that day we still competed but through out the process we actually grew closer by slowly clearing each other's doubt when we were the only ones in the library late at night to offering each other pens and snacks. I heard him listening to my favorite band and I couldn't help but throw questions at him out of the blue. I caught him off guard that day because he stuttered non stop and didn't look at my face for longer than a second. I didn't realize when we became friends but it turned out pretty good. So who's paying? Harry ofcourse. He left one hour earlier to get the most expensive drink on the menu and some other snacks before we go to a view point. I wanted it to be a road trip because that's the best you can do in a single day. I had a 4.0 GPA whereas his was 3.9. Not a big difference but I still won. I glance at the table clock and it's been 50 minutes since he left. I put my hair in a braid, curly hair are impossible to handle. I make my way down stairs and I see him with the mustang in the parking lot. I make my way over and without wasting a minute I open the door, sit and grin at him. It's just a 5 minute ride which I'm thankful for because driving at night at like 10 p.m. isn't my favorite thing. I get out of the car and as soon as I look ahead, I'm stunned. The most perfect view I have ever seen is in front of me as the cold breeze is all I can feel and hear. With tall trees on both the sides of the cliff, a lightened town below us and a starry night above us, I'm breathless. It's so perfect. I turn to look at Harry and he's already looking at me. He's holding everything and he gestures for me to sit on the hood. So I do. He takes a seat beside me with all types of snacks between us. He hands me the drink and I laugh at his same expression. "I don't even like coffee, I just wanted to let the loser lose some money too." He looks at me offended and shocked. "You are cruel. I don't like coffee too." "Well we need to drink it though. Let's share it hm?" I offer him picking up a red cup from the stash. He's hesitant but nods eventually taking the cup from my hand. "So how much?" "This coffee itself was 61 dollars" I gasp wide eyed. "You're kidding???" All I get is a shoulder shrug and a tight lipped smile as I laugh in shock. "Now I feel bad." "We both know you don't." He rolls his eyes as we both give it a try. "Okay it's not THAT bad you know." "Yeah because you got all the toppings and I got only coffee!" He accuses me even if I didn't attempt so. I squint my eyes then I just offer him my drink. "Oh- oh. Uhm. You sure?" He's blushing? Why? "Yeah I'm sure. Here. Give me yours." He smells great. He always does. "So how does it feel to lose?" I wiggle my eyebrows at him. "I let you win babe." I scoff at his response while he sips on his coffee making faces.

"Can I ask you something?" I take the opportunity to ask him something I have always thought of everytime we talked or everytime I saw him. "Go ahead." "Why were you always rude to me?" his shoulders stiffen all of a sudden, "since the day I joined this school, even in homeroom, when we had no classes together you didn't shake my hand when I offered. Everyone was kind to me but you just stared at me." I look at him as he stares ahead barely breathing. "Harry." He whips his head towards me. "Why?" He just looks me in the eyes as I do the same. "I liked you." My eyes widen and I quickly look away. "Wha-" "I saw you and I was so mesmerized by you. By your confidence, by your looks, by your voice. And I was competitive and rude three years ago." I can't believe my ears. This is not happening. It can't be. "I couldn't believe it and thought if I showed you I'm capable too, you will like me. But you didn't spare a single glance at me because of how I acted on the first day." I'm not able to comprehend the words as I listen to him. "But you wanted to be first? The bet too?" I ask him without looking at him. "It never was about the grades. I wanted you. So when an year after that we had all the classes together I did everything to just make you notice me. Even if it included all the pranks, the competition and fights." I'm too stunned to speak. As I turn my head, I look in his eyes and they carry guilt. Like he's trying to apologize. "I liked you too but never knew why you hated me. So I started hating you too." "You still like me?" He's quick to ask after my confession." I nod slightly in response. "Good because I still like you too." Before I get to open my mouth, he cradles my face with his big hand and pulls me towards him. Our foreheads touch as he stares right into my eyes. I can smell the scent of coffee in his breathe and his sandlewood smell. I glance towards his lips and I think he takes the hint as he wastes not even a second in wrapping his lips into mine. He's impatient and fast and he doesn't stop. Neither do I. Our tongues fight for the dominance and I give up easily because he's too good. I let him explore my mouth, I let him bite my lips, I let him devour me. I soon run out of breathe though because I pull away panting as he stares me with those eyes and I feel small under his gaze. I peck at his lips as I move the stash of food aside and come close. I hold on too his arm tightly and snuggle into him. We both look at the beauty in front of us as we feel each other's presence without uttering another word.

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated:)

[mackenzielovee]

my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac