#but when i have to open ap classroom.... kill me right then n there

[raindrvq]

im going back in time to stop myself from signing up for ap precalc bc this class is gonna be the death of me

or maybe just go back in time to stop my school from changing normal precalc to an ap class

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

New Life Pt.17

Word Count: 2,030

Characters: Derek Hale, Stefan Salvatore, Zach Salvatore, Laura Hale (mentioned), OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, slight cliffhanger, mentions of insecurities, sleep-deprivation, TW: slight mental breakdown, mentions of prison

A/N: ---

Masterlist     Series Masterlist

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

You walked out of the cell, dark bags under your red eyes, you looked like a mess. It had been two weeks since you got arrested, you were finally leaving. 

Your chest was aching, you felt a somewhat sense of numbness surrounding you.

You could hear a high-pitched ringing in your ears.

You were slightly surprised, seeing Stefan standing there, waiting for you and not Zach. Maybe it was better, Zach would have given you a long lecture, most likely yell at you.

Not that you were on the best terms with Stefan. The two of you had yet to talk about what happened, the last thing was Dean turning into a vampire, but you needed him, you were desperate.

Stefan stayed quiet, leading you into his car before turning on the heater. You didn't notice you were shivering.

You looked at the clock, it was sometime past 11 PM. 

“Zach really mad,” you nodded your head softly.

“I’m trying to get him to ease off for a bit. How are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m okay,” your voice cracked slightly before you cleared your throat.

“I'm sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

You both spoke at the same time, earning a small scoff from Stefan.

“I don't know what came over me, you thought he hurt your friends, and-”

“He didn't hurt Emily or Dean. It was someone else. He’s your brother, I’m sorry for that,” you said softly.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, while you froze for a second, before hugging him back.

“I’m just happy that you’re safe. Come on, we’ll get home and hopefully, Zach will give you a break,” he started the car, you could see the concerned look on his face from the corner of your eye before he looked at the road, driving off.

---

“Do you have any idea how stupid you were being? Drunk? You’re not even 18 yet, (Y/N)...” you zoned in and out of Zach’s lecture, your mind was too preoccupied over everything else. One thought that shone above all.

Mom’s disappointed in me

The only thing you could think of. Your mother was looking down at you, watching you. You failed at so many things, it would only get worse from here.

“I’m trying to talk to you. Stefan, Laura, Derek. We all try to talk to you, try to understand what's going on in your head, but you never tell any of us anything. Why can’t you just…”

You felt your vision blur slightly, a sense of nausea took over you while you put your arms around your stomach gently.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but Zach stopped talking, giving you a look.

“You're right, and I’m sorry,” you felt tears rush to your eyes before you blinked them away.

“Look,” Zach took a seat next to you, putting his hand on your shoulder while your eyes remained on the floor.

“I’m not mad that you got drunk, I’m not mad that you got arrested. You need to talk to us, you need to tell us what's going on. Talking about your feelings doesn't make you weak,” you felt a shiver down your spine as you nodded.

Zach stayed quiet for a minute, before sighing.

“You look like crap. Get some rest for the night, okay?” you looked at the clock, seeing it some time past midnight.

You stayed silent, getting up before you opened the door in Zach’s study, seeing Derek lurking outside.

“(Y/N),” his voice was quiet, while you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on,” he led you up to your room, before putting an arm around your shoulder.

“I honestly expected myself to get arrested before you did. You really proved me wrong,” you scoffed at Derek’s joke, before feeling hot tears rush to your eyes.

“(Y/N)?” Derek started.

“No, I’m okay,” you wiped your eyes, sniffling shakily before Derek laid on your bed.

You scoffed before he crossed his arms.

“Hurry up and change, it’s getting late,” you walked to your bathroom, closing the door before pausing, soaking in your appearance.

You looked like you just went through hell. If you didn't know better, you would think a car had hit you.

You felt tears rush to your eyes, your heart aching as you stifled a cry. More and more tears rushed to your eyes, while you turned on your shower, before crying softly.

You knew Derek wouldn't be able to hear you, not with the water on.

You fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling that nauseating feeling once again. Feeling a pit in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths before you stopped, opening your eyes.

You began to take off your clothes, before heading into the shower.

---

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Derek walked next to you into the school before you shook your head.

“I couldn't sleep,” you replied.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” you raised an eyebrow, before sighing.

“It’s…” you froze, seeing Emily and Dean walk past you, as Dean glared at you. You immediately took notice of the scarf on Emily's neck, feeling your heart jump.

Shit

You clenched your jaw, before Derek put his hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“He’s feeding on Emily,” your voice was barely above a whisper, seeing Derek’s face go pale as he quickly turned to look at the two of them.

You felt his grip on your hand tighten, looking at the two of them.

“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna break my hand,” you whispered.

“Why is he with her?” he asked, letting go of your hand.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“We need to get them apart, we need to help Emily.”

“You said she won't talk to either of us,” Derek pointed out.

“He could kill her. He doesn't know anything about being a vampire,” you replied.

“What if he turned his humanity off?” Derek’s voice was barely above a whisper while you felt chills down your spine.

“I don’t know. I think we need to ask Stefan for help,” you shook your head.

“Stefan never turned off his humanity before, right?”

“He has before. A few times actually,” you explained.

“I can’t sit here and watch Em with Dean like this. I’m gonna be sick,” Derek scoffed.

“I know. I’ll text Stefan now, he can come help us,” Derek nodded, before the two of you walked to your next class.

---

“I tried to call Damon, but he didn't answer,” Stefan explained.

You looked outside the classroom window, making sure no one was headed your way before you locked the door.

“Do you have any idea how we can separate them?” Derek asked.

“Do they have any classes that aren't together?” 

“No…” 

Derek’s voice drifted from your mind, keeping your focus in front of you.

Your mind kept going to the thought of your mother, you knew she would be disappointed in you. With the way you were acting, not just to Derek, but for the past year. You felt guilty, everything that happened to Dean, and now with Emily. The only person there was to blame was yourself.

It had all been your fault, starting with your hunt, you were too distracted thinking about Dean instead of checking to make sure you were clear. Because of that, the vampire escaped, he hurt Emily, he bit Dean. You forced Dean to drink vampire blood without him knowing, of course, he wouldn’t have been happy with it. You yelled at Derek for your mistake, you got yourself drunk and arrested, you tried to keep Dean away from Emily, only leading to where you were now.

“(Y/N), are you onboard?” you continued staring out of the window, before inhaling deeply, nodding your head.

“What’s the plan?” the two of them gave you a blank look before Derek began to explain.

“We’re just going to have to grab them both. If I cut the wire on Dean’s car, he won’t stop until he at least breaks down on the road. When they stop, Stefan and I are gonna use our speed to grab them both and we’ll bring them back to the Salvatore House. You just need to get the vervain ready,” Derek explained.

“Okay,” you replied.

“Maybe Laura can help us instead. Zach isn’t…”

“Why?”

“Well, (Y/N), you look-” Stefan started, before he paused.

“What?” you asked again.

“You look like you're two seconds away from dropping dead,” you rolled your eyes at Derek’s words before Stefan sighed.

“I wouldn’t have said it like that, but you need to get some rest. How many hours did you sleep last night?” Stefan asked.

“For a good amount-” you started.

“She’s lying. She didn’t sleep at all,” Derek said.

“Derek…” you whined.

“(Y/N), just-”

“Stop, please. I am fine. I need to help Emily, I need to help my friends right now, okay?”  they both paused, before nodding.

“Okay, we need to get a move on, school ends in like twenty minutes,” you looked at the clock.

“School after AP exams is pointless,” Derek muttered.

“Complain to the district. Come on,” Stefan walked out of the room, looking around before using his vampire speed to run off.

---

You waited for Emily to wake up, while she laid on your bed. You sat on a chair, looking down at her. You slowly removed her scarf, your eyes watered in an instant as you noticed the bite marks on her neck.

You heard her groan, while you tensed. She opened her eyes slowly, before jumping back from you.

“What the fuck?” she yelled.

“Em, hey. I know you’re probably-”

“Why am I here? Did you take off my scarf? What’s wrong with you?!” she yelled.

You could see her panic, about to make a run for it before you put your hand on her shoulder.

“Em, please just listen to me-”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You… Dean was alive, (Y/N). You lied to me, you hid it from me,” you felt more tears rush to your eyes before you shook your head.

“I am so, so sorry that I lied to you, Emily, but just please listen to me,” you begged.

“I don’t want to hear anything-”

“Dean’s hurting you, Emily!” you yelled, as she jumped slightly.

“Stop lying to me,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not lying, Emily. Just look. Look in the mirror, just…” you saw her eyes travel to your mirror, before she froze, looking at herself.

“What is that?” her voice softened, looking at the fang marks on her neck.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, I won’t lie to you. I need you to listen to me, okay?” her eyes watered, a confused look on her face before she nodded. 

“Okay…”

---

You laid in your bed, with Emily’s arms wrapped around you, while you hugged her back. She rested her head in your arms, her eyes still watery, as well as yours.

“I’m so sorry I let this happen to you,” your voice broke, before Emily looked up at you, wiping away your tears.

You felt a big wave of emotion and pain hit you before you wrapped your arms around her tightly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you cried.

“This isn’t on you. Y-You tried to save his life. I’m sorry for getting mad at you. I don’t even know why, I know that if you ever lied to me, it would’ve been for a good reason, obviously,” you sniffled, before nodding your head.

“It was just Dean messing with your head,” you said softly.

“Can I stay here with you tonight?” Emily asked softly, while you nodded.

“Only if we can watch shitty comedies,” Emily laughed, as well as you before she nodded her head.

“Yes, of course. God, I missed you,” you loosened your grip on her, a small smile on your face.

“I missed you too, Em. Come on,” you held your hand out to her before the two of you walked out of your room.

Taglist:

@bellabadacadabra​

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life​

@eunoia-kth​

@angelgtzdar

@shortimaginewriter

@linkpk88​

@thetiny-hufflepuff​

@gabbyper1215​

@thetiny-munchkin

@Msrawog 

[h2bakugou]

Can you do one where the reader is a new student and has like Deadpool’s abilities (the whole healing and not being able to die thing) and Bakugo is obsessed or something

a/n: of course! i prepped for this and watched the deadpool movie, and it was so good let me tell you- i also watched the new venom movie, and my love for tom hardy has not faded, that man is beautiful.

summary: class 1-a gets a new student, you! during introductions, you reveal your quirk which piques the interest of a certain explosive blonde.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / healing-immortality (i say immortality loosely because i think it’s a little too op but we’ll say it just takes a lot to kill you)

warnings: swearing, fluff, bad fight scenes

word count: 1k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

“You’ve got a new student.” Aizawa muttered, zipping his sleeping bag up as he stood in front of the classroom. Murmurs and whispers spread like wildfire as they tried to figure out, who and when they were going to arrive.

“Maybe it’ll be a hot chick with nice-” Kaminari was cut off by Sero’s tape slapped over his mouth thanks to Tsu. 

“Like she’d fall for your charms.” Sero joked. Kaminari pouted at the comment. He liked to believe that someone would fall for his cheesy pickup lines.

“Maybe it’ll be a nice guy! Who cares about others and has a cute smile!” One of the girls mushed.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Aizawa butted in, causing everyone to quiet down. 

The class is restless as time ticks by. They were impatient to meet the new student. So many chances, or opportunities for so many people. A new friend, a worthy rival, another stupid extra in the way of-

Bakugou’s head lifted up at the sound of the door opening.

“This is your new class!” Present Mic presented the new student. You stood in the doorway, a smile on your lips as you waved shyly.

“Go on, introduce yourself.” Aizawa grumbled from his curled up position on the floor. You took to the podium and bowed, beginning your introduction.

“Hi! I’m (l/n) (f/n), but you can call me (y/n). I’m super excited to be here and work with all of you.” You had the entire class’s attention, everyone on the edge of their seats wanting to know about your quirk.

“So what’s your quirk?” Mina asked. Your cheeks turned red as you caught the crimson eyes of a spikey blonde boy sitting on the row closest to the windows.

“Oh, it’s uhm, healing! I’m borderline immortal. It would take a little more than some stab wounds to kill me!” Your bright smile returned as a few ooh’s escaped your new peers.

“That’s so cool! I can’t wait to see you in action!”

“You must be great with close and far range combat!”

Bakugou was interested now. He couldn’t have cared any less about you before you said what your quirk was. You would’ve just gotten in the way. This was something different, you were different.

“Oi! We’re training first.” Bakugou stood up, catching your eye again. The blush that had faded away slowly rushed back to your cheeks as you admired the boy. He was handsome, and not to mention he seemed pretty strong.

“Everyone go get changed and head to the gym.” Aizawa sadly removed himself from his sleeping bag cocoon and headed toward the gym himself.

Walking into the girl’s changing room, you were quickly met with the other girls of class 1-A.

“Hi!” A pink girl with matching pink hair waved as she walked over to you. 

“I’m Mina!” She spoke kindly.

“It’s nice to meet you Mina! You asked about my quirk earlier right?” You questioned, seeming to find her familiar. 

“That’s right!” She hooked her arm around yours and pulled you into the group of girls.

“I’m Tsu!”

“Ochaco!”

“Yo, I’m Jiro.”

“Toru here!”

“I’m Momo!”

All the girls introduced themselves to you as you zipped up your training uniform.

“It’s nice to meet you all!” You smiled. The girls seemed to all take a liking to you.

You headed out with them to the gym, following them as you were still unaware of the layout of the large school. when you entered the gym, Bakugou was the first to approach you.

“Come on! Don’t waste your time with these extras, fight me with all you’ve got!” Bakugou yelled, pulling you to the center of the gym.

“Bakugou! Don’t-” Aizawa went to speak but you tossed your hand up.

“It’s fine! He’ll learn.” You smile back at him, assuring him that it was okay.

Bakugou waited for you to get ready. You nodded to him and he charged at you. You stood still, allowing him to hit you with a blast. You still felt the pain,  and it hurt, but it was something you’d gotten used too, especially with all your intense training.

It wasn’t all that gross to you, the small hole that was in your shoulder from Bakugou’s AP shot. You’d gotten used to it. But Bakugou was clearly bothered by it.Sure your quirk was badass, but that didn’t make the cleanup any easier. Blood and wounds were one of your biggest targets. 

You could take gunshot wounds like a champ, but the amount of blood you bled was the same as anyone else getting shot.You just didn’t die from it. It took a lot to kill you. But that was information for you to know and only you.

“What the-” Bakugou was slightly disgusted. And in that moment, you swung your arm, punching him in the jaw. He stammered back. You kept charging him, swinging punches and kicks until he’d fallen on the floor.

It wasn’t something you’d expected to do, but you did. A few of your classmates had uncovered their eyes, now looking at how you’d taken Bakugou down.

“Again!” Bakugou shouted, standing up from the floor.

“Again?” You questioned, a blush rising to your face as you smiled.

“I’m going to take you down!” Bakugou yelled, studying you. He noticed the hole in your shoulder was gone. It had healed that quickly?

“I can do this all day explosion boy. Give me all you’ve got!” You charged at him, the two of you running at each other at full force.

- - -

You’d been at U.A. for a few months now, and it’d had been everything and more. It was amazing.

You’d grown closer with Bakugou, so much so that every time the two of you trained, most everyone knew to leave you two alone. 

Bakugou wasn’t walking away until you surrendered, which was almost never, and you weren’t walking away until Bakugou admitted defeat.It was a constant battle between who was going to get the win for the day. You two didn’t hold back, or at least Bakugou didn’t. He didn’t have to. And you weren’t worried about holding back on him,  you were aiming to get stronger.

You didn’t have a quirk that allowed you to be super strong when it came to combat, so you had to work on fighting, on how to throw the perfect punch to take someone down, and Bakugou enjoyed helping you.He enjoyed the two of you. And he was going to enjoy calling you his girlfriend when Kirishima finally came up with a good plan to help him ask you out.

»»————-　★　————-«« 

masterlist

[babyflossy]

redamancy | p.js

pairing: jisung x reader

summary: for three years you had crushed on your brother’s best friend, and when you finally tell your brother about it, he can’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

genre/warnings: fluff, unedited, brother!chenle

requested: yep! requests are still open!

word count: 2.5k

maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell your older brother about your enormous crush on his best friend, but in your defense, at the time he seemed trust-worthy. not even three weeks later, however, would you realise just how bad a decision you had made.

it wasn’t that chenle was a bad older brother, in fact, you would argue he was one of the most caring and funny people out there, but he had a habit of never keeping things to himself. you only thought about his massive mouth, however, when you received a text from the devil himself, lee donghyuck.

lee donghyuck was in the year above you in highschool, along with your brother, his adorable best friend jisung, and their shared group of friends. being nearly the youngest in your year group as it is, most of them were nearly two years older than. this, by their logic, made it the perfect thing to tease you about.

looking down at your phone, you nearly choked on your water when you read the message, coughing to try an regain your breathing. the teacher in the front of the class stopped momentarily at the loud noise but continued when you offered a forced smile through your hacking. as soon as her back was turned, you furiously unlocked your phone, ready to give your brother a long, angry text message.

haechan unnie: i know you have a bad taste in men, but jisung? really? 0/10 from me

you ignored hyuck and instead clicked onto your brother’s contact, typing rapidly in chinese to at least keep some form of privacy. if donghyuck knew, there was a high chance the rest of his godforsaken friends would know as well, meaning there would also be a chance that jisung already knew. the thought made you feel sick.

the crush you harboured for him had been growing exponentially since you moved to highschool over two years ago. back then, jisung had just been chenle's tall awkward friend that didn't know how to talk to girls properly, but he was the definition of cute to you. as the years went on, though, he grew even more, voice dropping to a pleasant even tone that you could listen to all day. but it seemed, to your disappointment, that all the other girls at your highschool had also noticed the change, meaning he was now "one of the popular ones".

as much as you hated to admit it, the thought of jisung with any of the girls from your school made you undeniably jealous. there was nothing you could do to ignore your feelings anymore. jisung was a year older than you, he had girls his own age fawning over him, mature girls that dressed themselves better than you, and the thought of him rejecting you was humilating enough to prevent you from ever telling him how you felt. the years of not spilling your feelings were exhausting, and you thought telling your brother would make you feel better, and it did, for approximately nineteen days. now it just felt uneasy and insecure, knowing his other friends knew.

staring at the clock, you realised with a sickening drop of your stomach that this period was almost over. and lunch was next. the lunch period you shared with chenle and all his friends. the one lunch period you had to sit with them because the entirety of your friend group had extracurriculars or classes, meaning there was no way you could escape seeing them. you thought for a second about spending your lunch period in the art department, but you knew it would look weird to your brother, and he would definitely call you out on it.

when the bell did ring, you packed your bag as slowly as possible, checking your phone to kill time. there were already butterflies in your stomach and seeing jaemin and renjun waiting for you outside your classroom didn't help. they both shot you a smile and started walking towards to cafeteria. up ahead of you, you saw a familiar bleached mop of hair taller than the people around him and decide, actually, sitting in the art department alone would be better than facing any more of chenle's friends right now.

"actually guys, i need to finish something in the art department, tell chenle i hate him," renjun let out a laugh whilst jaemin's eyebrows shot up in surprise and you turned to try and escape them before an arm looped around your shoulders to stop you.

"this wouldn't haven't anything to do with a certain boy named jisung, would it?" donghyuck's teasing smile made your blood run cold and you didn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes. you struggled in his grip for a few moments but he's much stronger than you and so gave up quickly.

"no, what are you talking about?" you tried to keep your voice as neutral as possible, but by way renjun's smile only widened, jaemin joining in, you knew it hadn't worked.

"oh, is this about y/n's little crush on our jisungie?" out of the group, you usually found jaemin the easiest to deal with as he tended to tease you the least, but at his words, you found a new burning hatred for the blue-haired boy.

"shut up, jaemin. i'm going to kill chenle."

renjun seemed to pity you as he took in your expression, noticing the shiny line of tears slowly building in your eyes. "honestly, though, he one hundred per cent like you anyway. you should ask him out." you let out an incredulous laugh at his proposition, which he responded with nothing but an exasperated sigh. "you're both as bad as each other."

"you know i hate renjun being right, but i have to agree here, jisung totally likes you." as he said the words, donghyuck loosened his grip on your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting side hug. it did little to quell the nerves in you.

"that's nice, but i still have to finish something in the art department," your quiet voice was enough to tell the three boys you were lying, but they stopped walking anyway.

"then we'll eat in the art department," jaemin said, and as if he could read your mind, "without the others."

being one of your art teacher's favourite students had it perks, and as she handed you the key before leaving for her lunch break, you reminded yourself to finish your overdue art project in gratitude. the four of you had the room to yourselves, sitting around on the stools around one of the only tables free of paint plates and half-finished canvases.

"now, let's talk about the pressing issue here," donghyuck's voice was void of the teasing tone he usually used when talking to you, "why won't you ask him out."

"he doesn't like me." there was a definitive tone to your voice which made the other three pairs of eyes in the room roll in exasperation.

"he literally does, though." donghyuck.

"you're just in denial." jaemin.

"i can't believe you're both as stupid as each other." renjun.

an affronted frown took over your face as they spoke over each other. you looked down at your hands, trying to decide if you should tell them what was really bothering you. they watched you intently, seeing you had something you wanted to say. when you finally looked up, the tears in your eyes were back and jaemin reached a hand out to smooth over yours. "isn't he too old for me? why would he chose me when there're loads of girls in his own year that like him already?"

"i mean, a year isn't that bad, i think you should talk to him anyway."

after your little heart-to-heart in the art classroom, the bell had rung and you were made to slink off to your penultimate class of the day, ap calculus. despite being the most draining class you had, it was also the only class you shared with jisung. you tried to get inside and into your seat at the back of the room before he noticed, but he perked up as soon as you entered, grabbing your wrist as you slipped past his seat.

"hey, y/n," he started. there was a bright smile on his face and you hated the way it made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks already heating up. "i missed you at lunch, everything okay?" you nodded and he tightened his grip when you tried to move away again. "can i meet you after your last class? there's something i was meaning to talk to you about."

you froze, unable to do or say anything. luckily, your teacher walking in made jisung drop your hand, turning to face the front of the room. in your seat you stared at the wall, panicking. was he going to tell you he wasn't interested? did he already know you liked him? was he gonna say how you made it weird now? what if it was something completely different? when the teacher turned to write on the whiteboard, he faced you, eyebrows raised in question. you simply nodded and smiled weakly. needless, to say, you didn't hear a word the teacher said all lesson.

as you walked from your math classroom you spotted your brother, marching over to him with a furious expression on your face. he laughed when he saw you, pulling you in for a hug you manage to dodge at the last moment. "why the fuck would you tell them about jisung?"

"because you wouldn't listen to me," chenle explained, as if that suddenly makes it okay he leaked your deepest secret to all his friends. "and jisung's starting to annoy me with the staring." your cheeks flamed at his words and you punched his arm, finding satisfaction at the yelp he let out.

"i'll kill you later," you promised as you let the crowd of students propel you to your last class; only one hour left until your meeting with jisung.

chemistry passes quickly when your thoughts are occupied, and you found yourself staring at the clock as the bell rung, unable to believe the lesson was already over. there was nothing to protect you from the inevitable heartbreak coming. maybe you were being dramatic, you reasoned. it could be completely unrelated to your crush on him afterall.

the beating of your heart speeds up as you see the boy in question waiting outside your chemistry lab, leaning against a locker, looking over the crowd of heads for you. his face lights up when he spots you and he pushes through the throngs of people to reach you. "hey, you ready to leave? i was thinking we could go to that new smoothie place?"

you can only nod dumbly in response, letting him sperate the crowds for you to walk through. outside school, it's just you and him, and you worry briefly if he can hear how fast your heartbeat is. the smoothie shop isn't even a ten-minute walk from your school, but you feel on edge the whole walk there, even as jisung asks question after question, prompting conversation. he asks about your art pieces, saying how he loved the ones in your bedroom (you blush at the compliment), he asks about your favourite subjects, about your music taste, even about what you wanted to do after highschool.

relief flooded you as you enter the small shop, saving you from answering any more questions. you glanced around the cute cafe in awe. hanging plants covered nearly every corner of the ceiling, multi-coloured tiles coated the expanse of the walls. there's silence as you both read the menu, trying to decide between the plentiful fruit combinations.

when you had both chosen, a girl ushered you to the counter, taking you orders and writing your names on the cups before telling your total. before you even had a chance to fish your card out of your phone case, jisung had already tapped his phone against the card machine, paying for the both of you.

you looked up in surprise, meeting his sheepish smile with a blushy one of your own. the cafe was busy but the two of you managed to get an empty table to yourselves in the back corner of the shop, only a little sofa for the both of you. as you sat, thighs touching, you swore you had never been so nervous in your life, hands sweating around your smoothie as you sipped it so you wouldn't have to say anything.

eventually, you couldn't take the silence any longer, blurting out, "what did you wanna talk about?" after deciding the sooner her rejected you, the sooner you could home and beat up chenle whilst crying.

"chenle told me you like me," his words were rushed but you caught them easily, your cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. it was humiliating. your crush of three years was about to call you out in the middle of a public cafe. you wondered vaguely if anyone you knew was also here, ready to watch the fateful moment. the next words jisung said were the not ones you were expecting. "and i like you too, so i wanted to tell you." your brain short-circuited and all you could do was sit and stare blankly at the boy in front of you. after a few moments, jisung seemed to take your reaction as rejection and began to back-track, "i'm sorry if that's not what you meant–"

"no, no, no!" you said too quickly, a hand coming to rest on his arm to stop him leaving, even though he hadn't moved. "i do like you."

"oh, that's great then, i guess," jisung sat and studied your features for a bit longer, not convinced, "you don't seem very happy, though."

"i just, uh–" you babbled, trying to find the least embarrassing combination of words to get your point across, "i thought you would, uh–"

"you thought i would what?" he prompted.

"i thought you wouldn't want to date me because i'm younger than you. and because i'm chenle's younger sister," a sigh escaped with your words and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, scared of his reaction.

"oh," he paused, leaning down to meet your eyes when you avoided him. "i've never seen you as chenle's sister, though, you've always just kinda been your own person to me." the sincerity in his words reverberated through your head and you finally met his eyes, "and i'm only a year older than you, but if you think that's too much then we don't have to–"

"no, i don't mind it."

"oh, cool. do you wanna maybe grab dinner after this then? i can drive you home afterwards?" before you could even think, you were nodding.

"i'd love that. i'm still gonna kill chenle for telling you, though."

a/n: i got the mouse out so i finished this in celebration!!

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[onetwosevensquad]

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

[threeletterslife]

08 | Illegirl

→ previous | next 

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity (LITERALLY, WHAT’S NEW), kissing/making out but iN tHe cLaSsRoOm

→ wordcount: 8.3k

The car ride is so silent, you can literally hear the gears of your brain working as all sorts of thoughts fly through your head.

Jimin hasn't said a single word to you since you've left the school and neither have you. It's like the awkwardness is being fueled by the silence. God, you want to say something so bad, but what would you say?

Haha, sorry Jimin, but yeah, I might like you???

You mentally slap yourself, sighing. From the corner of your eye, you see Jimin steering steadily, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.

You almost scoff at the thought but... What if Jungkook was right? What if... he likes me too?

You've never really thought of that possibility before. Why hadn't it crossed your mind until now?

Because you're not supposed to fucking like your teacher, Y/N.

Right.

But still...

"Jimin?"

Your own voice surprises you as you can visibly see your ex-friend jump in his seat. Immediately, you regret ever speaking but it's too late now.

"Yes?"

Damn. You never realized how much you missed his smooth, beautiful voice until now.

"I... This... I miss this." You literally want to shank yourself for your inability to form coherent, non-humiliating phrases.

Jimin looks shocked but he doesn't turn his head to look at you. Instead, he mutters a soft, "Me too."

Silence follows after that, and you're worried you made the situation worse. Just as you think it's ruined forever, Jimin speaks again. "We kind of drifted apart, didn't we?"

You nod vigorously. "We shouldn't have... Right?"

"Right."

Silence again.

"I'm sorry," you say at the exact same time as Jimin. Both of you laugh, the awkward atmosphere lifting bit by bit. It feels exceptionally good to laugh with him.

"What are you sorry for?" Jimin chuckles. "You made no mistakes."

You flinch at the word, god, you hate it. "Okay, can we not call that a mistake?" you blurt out before you can even process what you said. Oh shit.

Jimin cocks his head. "What would you want to call it then?"

Ohhh, you fucked up, Y/N.

"I dunno... A... A?" You're stuck. You're screwed. You're roasted. "Um --"

HONK! BEEP! SCREECH! And an angry: "DRIVE, ASSHOLE!" saves you.

Multiple impatient people are slamming their palms hard on their wheels, erupting a shit ton of raucous noise in the evening air.

"It's a green light, go!" you shriek, laughing as your teacher hurriedly smashes his foot down on the excel.

Both of you are still laughing by the time Jimin pulls up on your driveway.

"So, an asshole now, aren't you?" you joke, snorting.

Jimin huffs. "People are so impatient!" He turns to you, grinning slightly. "But that's me included. Now, where were we? Something about 'not a mistake?'" he teases lightly.

Your face starts to flush an ugly shade of rose. "Just don't call it that!" you exclaim. "What else am I supposed to say? It was the best kiss I've ever had? Huh?"

It takes you a moment to process what you'd just said. Y/N, are you fucking kidding me.

Now it's Jimin's turn to flush pink. "Best kiss?" he says softly.

"O-oh, um... Actually..." You can't even deny it though. Granted, you've only ever had one other kiss in your life and that too, was with your goddamn teacher.

"Do you... hm..." Jimin trails off, hands still gripping the steering wheel as he refuses to make eye contact with you. "Do you... feel the same as me?"

You make a face. "What kind of vague question is that? How am I supposed to know how you feel? If I knew, I would've either cried from rejection or cried from happiness already!"

Jimin cocks his head, eyes still trained to look in front of him, not at you. "Damn," he mutters to himself.

"Damn straight!" you exclaim, getting weirdly worked up. "You know the fuck what? Let's say I do feel the same as you. Would you be glad or happy?"

"Aren't they synonyms?" Jimin asks, a small grin on his face.

You huff. "You're such an asshole! Glad, if you don't like me. Happy, if you like me back! Isn't it obvious?"

Suddenly, Jimin whirls around, facing you straight and grinning like a madman. Startled, you lean back. "Like you back? You like me?"

Oh, fuck. You forgot how much of a nervous blabbermouth you are. You sigh. Actually, you know the fuck what? What have I got to lose?

"Fine, you goddamn asshole. I like you," you blurt out. Immediately, your whole body feels so much lighter as if your confession had just lifted fifty pounds off your chest. So logically, you continue on.

"It's probably illegal for you to like me back so I won't even ask if you return my feelings. Ugh. I swear to fucking god I've been such a miserable little shit ever since we stopped talking. You're an asshole for avoiding me, you know that? And a dumbass for calling the best moment of my whole life a fucking mistake." You pause for a deep breath, nearly choking on air doing so. "But who am I kidding... You're no asshole or dumbass," you sigh, massaging your forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You're amazing, smart, a workaholic, yes, but also a caring friend and teacher... I just—" You quickly bury your face in your hands. "I'm not crying, I just lost my train of thought," you say, your voice slightly muffled. Sniffling, you continue. "You make me just... lose my fucking words. You make me blabber like a goddamn second grader! You make me cuss so much, goddammit!"

You hear Jimin's low chuckle and jerk your head up, glaring through your teary eyes.

"Y/N, Y/N!" Jimin chuckles. "Are you really blaming your foul mouth on me?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Park Jimin?" you rage. "I just confessed my whole heart out and that's the first thing you say?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—" Jimin laughs. "You're so adorable. I'd pay good money to see you confess to me again."

Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance... maybe even humiliation, you don't know anymore. Aggressively, you wipe away the tears welled up in your eyes and look away.

"Y/N?"

You pretend you can't hear.

"Y/N."

What was that? Must be some bird --

"Y/N!"

An angry bird at that...

"Yoon Y/N!" A hand grabs your arm, forcing you to look at the man you really didn't like at the moment. (Despite the fact you're literally whipped for him.)

You expect Jimin to apologize for being an ass, but to your surprise, he laughs. Okay, this bitch!

"I'm sorry, sorry, Y/N!" Jimin giggles. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just... I can't believe -- I like you too!" he blurts out.

What.

What.

What.

What the FUCK?

"YOU ASSHOLE!" you shout, shaking your arm away from Jimin's grip. "YOU MADE ME CONFESS LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT!"

Your teacher laughs again. "On my defense, I didn't think you were going to blurt out a confession. Besides, you don't have any idea how much pain I've been in, thinking you didn't feel the same. I'm laughing because of the irony! I'm not laughing at you, Y/N!"

You huff. "You're lucky I like you so much. Or else I would've shanked you."

Jimin scoffs. "You? Shank me? Please, Y/N, you're half my size."

"Oh, we're roasting each other now? Okay, fine. Who's the one who can't, for the life of him, keep his hands to himself when he's drunk, hm?" you say, proudly.

"That doesn't work anymore, Y/N. I think I'm safe to say that day I kissed you drunk was the best mistake I've ever made," Jimin announces, grinning widely.

You flout. "Asshole."

"But you know you like me."

"Oh, shut up or else... or else..." you trail off, "or elSE I'M GOING TO INVITE YOU IN THE HOUSE! HA!"

Jimin bursts out laughing. "Not really a threat, but I full-heartedly accept."

Something in your chest explodes at that moment—it's a burst of emotions, warm, fuzzy and cordial. You've got to admit, Jimin is an asshole. Too bad you're whipped for him—and he's whipped for you.

"I haven't been here in forever," Jimin chuckles as he enters your house. "Thanks for inviting me in," he teases, reminding you of your stupid outburst earlier. You scowl as your face flushes a brighter shade of red.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you mumble as you throw your backpack on the couch and head towards the kitchen. "Wanna eat anything?"

"Not in particular," your teacher answers, sliding into one of the kitchen seats. He places his elbows on the marble counter and rests his chin on his folded hands, looking at you in a way that has your heart leaping around in your rib cage.

Fuck. You don't know how long you can contain your happiness, literally feeling as if you'll burst out screaming that your crush likes you back in any second.

"Suit yourself," you murmur calmly, swinging open the refrigerator door and hiding your flushed face behind it. "Get yourself together, bitch," you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to calm your palpitating heart. Then, you put on a confident face, grabbing a bowl of pre-washed strawberries and shutting the refrigerator door.

"Actually, do you happen to have gum?" Jimin asks once you set the bowl of strawberries down on the table counter.

"Gum?" Your eyebrows raise.

"Yeah, mint gum."

Strange request, but okay.

"Uh, yeah," you reply, quickly opening a drawer to take out a pack of your favorite mint gum and tossing it whole to Jimin. He catches it midair with unsurprising finesse, unwrapping a piece and placing it in his mouth before looking up and smiling at you. His smile literally kills you.

I must be dreaming. There's no way all of this just happened. There's no way—

"So... what now?" Jimin asks, chewing on his gum thoughtfully. "We like each other but what happens after that?"

His bluntness makes you blush ever harder as you quickly pick up a strawberry and shove it in your mouth to prevent yourself from blurting out anything imbecilic. While slowly chewing on it, you give yourself some time to think.

What does happen now? What do you do if the person you like, likes you back? Hell, this isn't even a normal case—this boy, man, if you will, is my goddamn teacher.

After intense contemplation, you swallow the last of the strawberry and speak your very well put together answer: "I don't know."

Jimin blows a bubble with his gum, popping it somehow gracefully as he chuckles. "Well, you should know something. It's kind of illegal for us to be together—I don't know the exact laws but I'm pretty sure somewhere in the teacher handbook there's something about not having relationships with students..." he trails off. "But technically, if no one finds out, we won't get in trouble." He gives you a suggestive look, wiggling his eyebrows.

You burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Jimin—you're just so..."

"So... what?" he teases, scooching closer to your smaller frame.

"So... I dunno... Didn't I tell you? You make me lose all sense of the English language," you pout slightly, turning out your lips as you give Jimin a look. "And I have a fucking A+ in that class too."

"You're adorable," he comments, leaning in to ruffle your hair. And he doesn't pull away. Instead, his eyes linger around your lips, making you very, very self-conscious about them.

"A-Are you going to kiss me?" you whisper without thinking, your warm breath hitting Jimin's lips. Lips that curve up into a faint smile.

"Do you want me to?" His warm, minty breath makes you feel like you're floating in the soft clouds in Heaven but you manage to stay sane.

"I dunno... I mean, yeah? Wait, maybe. Actually..." you stop yourself before you stutter even more. His question had caught you so off-guard you didn't even know what to say.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Jimin mutters, his lips slightly grazing yours. You lean for more contact when—

"Wait, lemme spit out my gum real quick."

What.

You watch, slightly horrified as Jimin just sticks his chewed, mint gum on his finger. He looks like he has no intention of walking over to the trash can to throw it away.

"Sorry," Jimin says, giving you a sheepish smile as he cups your cheek with the hand that doesn't have the gum stuck on it. "Just wanted to have minty breath."

You roll your eyes. "For what?" It's a dumb question and you know it. You don't even expect an answer—and you don't get one.

Jimin quickly leans in, his lips meeting yours halfway. It's a small, chaste peck that barely gives you a chance to taste the mint on his tongue. But you're not complaining. Not when things are unfolding like this.

"If I haven't made it extremely obvious already, Yoon Y/N, I like you," Jimin mutters, breath hitting your cheek as he softly kisses it.

That comment alone has your stomach twisting around in knots. Blushing, you manage to reply a shaky: "You and me both, Jimin."

He chuckles, giving your lips another little peck before he pulls back, fondly admiring your face. "You have no idea how long I've liked you."

Feeling a surge of confidence, you slowly wrap your arms around Jimin's neck, giving him a smile. "Try me. Bet I've liked you for longer."

"Oh? Is it a competition now?" He leans in to kiss you, and this one lingers around on your lips just a tad bit more—actually, quite literally since he hasn't pulled back yet.

"Isn't it always?" you respond against his lips. Finally, finally, finally! you can taste the mint on his tongue as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. It's less like an explosive feeling of euphoria and more like a feeling of something slow, sensual and loving.

Jimin hums, moving forward to press you against the back of your chair, making sure every part of your body's touching his.

You've never really been a smooth talker—no fucking surprise—so you're very much glad you can express yourself with your actions. And Jimin, that little bitch, he's a somewhat of a smooth talker and an obvious connoisseur of kissing.

You melt against his body, his lips suckling yours as his fingers tangle in your hair. Honestly, you could stay like this forever—this warmth, this feeling, this silence. Dare you say this feeling was better than scoring hundred's on your tests—

But of course, things never go smoothly when you're involved.

With a loud gasp, you slightly pull away from the kiss, frowning. "Jimin, your hands..."

"What about them, baby girl?" he coos, leaning in to kiss you again.

"No, your hands, Jimin. They're in my hair," you say slowly, brows furrowing. God, no.

"Yes, baby, they are," Jimin says, staring at you as if you've just lost it. "Has my kissing really made you lose your head?" he jokes.

Oh my god. It looks like you just have to go out and say it then—

You close your eyes, deeply sighing. "You had gum on your finger, Jimin. It's in my hair, isn't it?"

"OH SHIT!"

You ended up having to cut a strand of your hair.

Yeah, thanks to your new fucking boyfriend, not only did you get a (quite literal) taste of his romantics, you also got his chewed up gum in your hair. How! Great!

But are you complaining? Not really.

Not when you're cuddled up with him on the couch and it feels more cordial than home itself. You can't believe you, the most pragmatic person you know, is literally playing around with stupid platitudes, but you might as well just found home with him.

You look at the cylindrical bottle with disdain, lips pulled out in a full pout. Picking up the concealer with a maximum of two fingers (to minimize the surface area you touch), you turn around to glare at your boyfriend who's watching you with adoration in his eyes.

"I don't even wear makeup," you whine for the hundredth time. "This is all your fucking fault, Park."

"Hey, hey!" Jimin raises up his hands in defense, giving you a sheepish look. "I quite remember that you liked it when it was happening... Oh, JiMiN, yEaH rIghT tHeRe!" He gives you a shit-eating grin.

You're blushing even harder than before, rolling your eyes and huffing. "Shut the fuck up."

"Now, now, that's no way to talk to your dear teacher, Y/N," Jimin teases. He walks over to you (you were very adamantly scrutinizing your bruised neck) and he wraps his arms around you. "If it helps, I can help you apply it?" He rubs his face into the soft material of your loose hoodie.

You groan. "Fine. You better know shit about makeup because I sure don't."

"We can learn," Jimin answers as he spins you around and takes the concealer from you. "What's learning without a few failures?"

Two hours later and half a bottle of concealer wasted, you're looking at your covered up neck in the mirror with satisfaction. "I feel like if your clumsy ass hadn't spilled the concealer halfway through, we would've finished earlier," you tease, poking Jimin's cheek affectionately.

Jimin scowls, checking his watch as he sulks. "It's only half-past four... We can still have our date at the park."

You smile as your boyfriend grabs your hand, tugging you towards the front door. "Of course... But hey, can we be back by seven? I have this test tomorrow—"

Jimin laughs, squeezing your hand. "Without a doubt... nerd," he mutters the last bit under his breath.

"What did you call me?" Your brows furrow up and you glare at Jimin.

"Oh, just the ray of sunshine in my dark, muddy life."

Conversations have never been your cup of tea. Sure, finding the root-mean-square-deviation was a piece of cake—or writing a literary analysis on The House of Mirth didn't even make you break out in a sweat. But conversations... That shit's hard.

There's so much you want to say, so much you'd like to share. But you have to factor in the others' reactions to your words to make sure you're not saying something rude or offensive. God, things are so much easier when you're just talking to yourself.

"No, but I really think mermaids are real!" you huff. "We didn't think of the possibilities of the oarfish or the deep sea hatchetfish or the fucking viperfish until we found them, you know! 95% of the ocean is undiscovered, alright? Mermaids are out there!"

"It's scientifically impossible!" Jimin huffs, squeezing your interlocked hands.

"Park, a shit ton of things were called 'scientifically impossible' before they were proven to be quite feasible," you sigh, patting Jimin's shoulder. "Admit it, Jimin, mermaids are real."

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N. I thought you were a woman of practicality!"

"What's more to it than you thought wrong?" you giggle. "Mermaids probably exist! What if I told you I'm a mermaid, huh? Would you run away?"

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You're impossible."

"Much so like the so-called non-existent mermaids," you pipe up, giving your boyfriend a shit-eating grin.

"Y/N, I'm literally so ready to—FUCK, DUCK!" Jimin yells, turning your body around and pulling your hood over your head and dipping his face into the small space under the hood as if he was trying to hide both of your identities.

"What? Huh? What's wrong?" you whisper, face flushing from the close proximity between you and Jimin.

"Holy shit, we shouldn't have come to a local park, holy shit!" Jimin murmurs, hands shaking as he wraps his arms around you, tugging you closer.

"Who are we hiding from? What?" you hiss. "Jimin, what's wrong?"

"Students!" he hisses right back.

The blood flowing in your veins runs cold and your freeze before you start to hyperventilate. "Students?" you repeat in horror, barely believing it yourself until you see them through a small space between the hood and Jimin. "Fuck! Oh, shit! Fuckshitholyhell, they're coming, oh my god, oh MY GOD—"

Before you can scream and blow your cover, Jimin's lips are on yours, face dipped further into your hood as he kisses you softly. You're too shocked to say anything, only to respond by moving your lips against his, steadying the hood over both of your faces with heavy precaution.

He only pulls away when you're 110% sure you're tomato-red and panting for air. "What... was that for?" you ask, breathless.

Jimin grins. "To play the part of a romantic couple having their date at the park. No one looks twice at a couple engrossed in PDA," he murmurs. "They're gone, by the way."

"Oh thank the LORD! We should really—mmf!"

Jimin's lips crash down on yours for the second time that day, stopping you mid-sentence, again. You're not even mad—although PDA was something you always hated (being a watcher), you never thought how exciting it would be on the other side of it.

Or maybe Jimin's just a good kisser. There's something about how his lips tug and release, how there's just the right amount of affection and the way he makes you want to literally glue your lips onto his for eternity. (Ignore the last part that's borderline creepy.) But for real though. He's so perfect.

You sigh into the kiss, hands tugging on Jimin's shirt as he kisses you harder in response. The sounds, the taste, the feeling puts you on cloud nine, and you barely even notice when your hood falls down from the force of which he's kissing you.

And when both of you pull away for air, his nose still lightly pressed against yours as he pants softly, you can't help but grin so wide it physically hurts. Both of you catch your breaths together.

"I'm kinda glad this played out like this," you mutter, nuzzling your head into Jimin's chest.

"Today's date... or us as a couple?" Jimin chuckles kissing the top of your head.

"Both, of course."

Jimin laughs lightly. "You know, you can't really scientifically prove that mermaids exist, but I sure can scientifically prove that we're meant for each other."

"God, Park. That was another level of greasy," you tease as Jimin flushes furiously. "I'd like to see you try one day... With all that scientific evidence."

Your boyfriend just smiles, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he tugs you close into his arms. "Why don't we test my hypothesis out right now?"

You don't even get to answer because his lips are on yours.

Who would've fucking thought?

It's crazy how that night your teacher had drunkenly kissed you, both of your fates had been sealed. You would've never thought in a million years that you'd be so emotionally and physically attached to another being that wasn't Jin.

But here you are. With Jimin. How he looks at you when he thinks you're sleeping. How he tucks in a loose strand of your hair behind your ear so he can softly kiss your closed eyelids. How he hugs you so tight in the privacy of his cozy living room. How he loves it when you play with the silky locks of his hair and how you love it that Jimin's all you can really think about.

You're crazy for him—to the point you wonder if it's even healthy. But rest assured, you know he's crazy for you too.

Every single moment the two of you meet, your heart feels full, your shining smile never leaves your face and your eyes twinkle from sheer mirth.

Yes, he's your teacher, out of your league, almost a decade older than you. But you really don't care. Age is only a number and a teacher is only an occupation.

It could sound wrong at first glance—a teacher and his student in a loving relationship. Yet you can't really stop two people from being together, right?

Besides, life with Jimin as your boyfriend is good. Great. Amazing. Too good to be true. Ineffable.

Dates are never a problem. Underneath his nerdy persona, Jimin is a romantic freak. He's learned a thing or two from the pile of Nicholas Sparks novels he keeps under his bed. In turn, he's also learned a lot of cliché but romantic endeavors. Which is exactly why you've been stuck in the car for the past five hours, driving to the goddamn beach at an ungodly time of day.

"Jiminie," you whine, shifting positions in the cramped shotgun seat of the car for the umpteenth time. "Are we there yet?"

"God, Y/N, you've been asking that every five minutes!" Jimin laughs. "We're almost there."

"That's what you said three hours ago," you sigh, stretching your feet out. "Why did we have to go to a beach so far away, huh? And so early, jeez, it's literally five in the morning, and we started this road trip at midnight!"

"Oh c'mon, you know the answer to that." Jimin gives you a sideways, knowing glance. "We can't have any students interrupting our date—unless you're into that kind of stuff."

You snort, shaking your head. "Still doesn't explain why we hit the roads so early."

"You'll see." Jimin smiles, taking his eyes off the road for a quick second as he looks at you with adoration. You can't help to shut up when he looks at you like that. Come to think of it, you think Jimin knows that that look is the only way that'll get you to stop talking. He's using it against you. That little bi—

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your own thoughts. It's that kind of growl that sounds like a mixture between a fucking fart and a burp. The most embarrassing kind, of course. There's an awkward silence that follows and then, laughter. Jimin's snorting, slapping his thigh with one hand as the other keeps the wheel steady while you're cackling like a goddamn hyena (you've never been blessed with a pretty laugh).

The situation wasn't even that funny. In fact, you felt like a sixth-grader again, giggling at immature shit all the time. But it must be the tiredness talking—er, laughing.

"Well you're hungry, aren't you?" Jimin manages to say, attempting to steady his breaths.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," you choke out, grabbing your gurgling stomach to shut it up. "Are we there yet?"

"Oh my GOD, Y/N," Jimin laughs again. He takes the liberty to literally reach over and pat your head. "You're acting like a goddamn child. Like I'm dating a kid."

You pause to think. "Okay but technically, you are kinda dating a child," you say, stifling a small yawn. "What a pedo."

Your boyfriend scoffs but grins. "Hey, hey, hey!" he protests, "just because you're a minor doesn't mean you're a child. Besides, aren't you turning 18 soon?"

"Eh, late birthday," you reply, shrugging. "I'm turning 18 in August."

"Well fuck, Y/N," Jimin sighs. "What are you so young for?" He shakes his head disapprovingly.

You roll your eyes. "Oh yeah? What the fuck are you so old for?"

"Excuse me, 24 ain't that old," Jimin pouts, lips pulling out so plumply that you have the sudden urge to kiss them. "It just seems old in comparison to 17!"

"Whatever you say... grandpa."

"I'm one word away from driving five hours back where we came from," Jimin teases, making you shut up right away. "That's more like it. We're almost there, anyways. Just in time too."

"Just in time for what? We better make this quick. You know, before Jin finds out that we've both vanished without a single text," you say.

"Relax, Y/N, you and I both know that Jin likes to sleep in 'til two during the weekends. We'll be on a time crunch, but it'll be fine," Jimin answers, shrugging.

You pout like a petulant child. "But just in time for what?"

"Oh! What do you know? We're here!" Jimin exclaims, flat-out ignoring you and your sulking ass. "I'll get the beach towels, you stay right here!" Your boyfriend excitedly opens the car door, rushing to the back of his trunk to rummage through the supplies.

"Hmph." You cross your arms, a bit pissed that Jimin won't tell you shit, especially when you're not the biggest fan of surprises. It's still slightly dark outside since the sun is barely peeking over the beach horizon. Which reminds you that you should be in bed, sleeping.

Oh well. Jimin time is worth sleep time.

"For you, m'lady."

Suddenly your side of the car door opens with Jimin behind it, grinning widely at you. He's holding that typical picnic bitch basket and that basic beach mat for couples. Then, you look down to see a fucking red carpet, starting from the parked car all the way to the sand.

"What the fuck."

"Why? Do you not like it?" Jimin asks, brows creasing in worry as you express your shell-shock.

"No... I love it. It's just. Damn. I'm just impressed..." you trail off. "You did all of this for me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Jimin grins, holding out his hand for you to take. "C'mon, let's walk down the red carpet."

You giggle, taking your boyfriend's warm hand as you giddily hop out of his car. "What did I do to get the honor of walking down this special carpet?"

"Well, for one, you miraculously survived this five-hour road trip. And two, you're dating me, a well-known celebrity, so you get privileges," Jimin teases, poking your cheek as he starts to guide you down the colored rug.

"Celebrity my ass," you snort. But you pull your body closer to Jimin's as he protectively wraps his arm around your figure.

Jimin chuckles. "Well if I ever become a famous rapper, my name should be Statz, you know, for statistics."

"Yeah, sure, and people will drop their asses to your passionate rapping about the wonders of the z-score table," you giggle. "I see you more as a dancer. You've got the body."

"Oh?" Jimin quirks his eyebrows. "Been looking at my ~body~?" he asks suggestively.

"Shut up, I'm underage," you snort, hitting his chest. "Besides, I catch you looking at me all the time. Don't act so innocent, grandpa."

"Okay, we're both guilty then," Jimin smirks, squeezing your intertwined hands before letting go. "Hey, look at that, we're just in time." He smiles, spreading out the beach mat and placing the picnic basket in the middle.

The soft sound of the waves and the salty breeze helps you relax. But the silhouette of your boyfriend setting up a romantic scene for you keeps your heart beating madly.

"We're watching the sunrise," you whisper, your voice coming out as a small squeak.

"Yup. Took you long enough," Jimin quips, grinning as he helps you sit down on the soft mat. "Just you, me and the sunrise, you know?"

You smile, snuggling into his warm arms. "It's perfect."

"Okay, good, 'cause I kinda might've forgotten to put food in the picnic basket... not to ruin the mood or anything. Ugh, I knew I was forgetting something but I didn't know what it was until I picked up the goddamn basket from the trunk and was like 'oh shit, it's fucking empty' and panicked. But I was like, nah, I should just bring it for show, makes it more romantic, right? So here we are with an empty picnic basket," Jimin rambles, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I hope you don't get hungry."

You laugh lightly, reaching for Jimin's hand to console him. "Hey, it really doesn't matter. My stomach should learn to take hunger once in a while."

"It's still perfect?" Jimin asks tentatively.

"Ineffably perfect," you murmur, leaning back against your boyfriend's chest to look out at the scenery. "Think the sunrise's starting."

And it was. You and Jimin sit in silence as vibrant colors of yellow and orange slowly mix with rich shades of magenta, painting the most beautiful canvas; the morning sky.

You're in awe with the beauty, living in the tranquil moment.

Then you hear a soft whisper. "I love you."

Your eyes turn wide and you gasp quietly, whipping your head up to see Jimin looking away from you.

"W-What?" you manage to say.

Even though it's still slightly dark, you can see the blush creeping up on Jimin's cheeks as he whispers again. "I... I think I love you, Y/N."

Now you're flushing all shades of red as your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. He loves me. He loves me! HE LOVES ME! You don't know what to say, what to do, what to think.

"W-What?" is all you can utter. Quite stupidly.

"Y/N, I..." Jimin sighs, looking you in the eye, "I love you."

You're in shock. Never have you ever been confessed to. Never have you ever been exposed to this kind of romance. Never have you loved someone to this extent either. There's a first time for everything.

And so you muster up all the courage running through your veins, clear your parched throat (when had it become so dry?) as you look right into your boyfriend's twinkling eyes. Jimin smiles, squeezing your hand. "Yeah. I love you," he repeats, surely, confidently.

You smile back, leaning in to place a chaste kiss against his lips. "You and me both."

You don't wanna sound like you're from a fucking fairytale or some shit, but damn you really think you got your happily ever after.

Yeah, like every princess out there you're practically an orphan, but you're surrounded by the most caring and loving bunch of people ever. And plus, you have your prince. Prince Jimin. (Why the fuck does that have a nice ring to it???)

But anyways, you basically have it all: a loving boyfriend, a hearty group of friends, an affectionate cousin and some impossibly immaculate grades. Now you kinda get why some people say they peaked in high school. You'll probably end up the same... yikes.

And acknowledging that, you know you've got to use the most of this peak in your life. You've been going out on frequent dates with Jimin (telling Jin they were math club meetings) and hanging out with Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook at school.

Now it's not so much of a struggle to be happy. And your happiness shows.

It's funny how putting a smile on your face can change a lot. You're no longer a turtle dwelling in her thick shell. You're no longer afraid of befriending people. You're no longer afraid of getting hurt because you have people to help you back up on your feet. You've put yourself out there, waved to a few people, exchanged salutations. And now, it seemed as if everyone knew and liked you.

"Hi, Y/N!"

"Hey, girl, what's up?"

"Y/N! Hey!"

"How did your philosophy presentation go?"

"How are you?"

"Damn something good happen today?"

The last one was Taehyung, suggestively moving his eyebrows up and down as he nudges your side. No doubt teasing you.

"Ooh, did Jungkook... confess?" Yoongi mock gasps, placing a delicate hand over his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "No, I'm just..." You huff. "I dunno, do I really need a reason to be happy?"

"Well then, do you need a reason to be so sassy?" Taehyung shoots back, chuckling.

"Excuse me, I wasn't being sassy!" you argue, crossing your arms. "Yoongs, help me out here!"

"I agree, she really wasn't," Yoongi chuckles, bobbing his head up and down in approval as you smile. "Sass is just ingrained in her personality, duh."

Your jaw drops open at the sheer betrayal. "What the fuck."

"Oh, how could I have forgotten?" Taehyung laughs as you glare daggers into him. "Kinda forgot the second definition of 'sass' is 'Y/N.' Think I read it on the Merriam-Wattster dictionary before. Right Yoongs?"

"Right. All that SAT vocab practice last year really got to us, huh?"

"Guys, guys, be nice to Y/N!" Jungkook interrupts, literally appearing out of thin air as he casually swings his arms around Taehyung and Yoongi. You're inwardly glad that Kook's here to save you from your suffering.

"Hey, you always pick Y/N's side!" Taehyung pouts. He crosses his arms against his chests and leans against Yoongi. "It's soooo unfair."

The shorter male snorts, playfully pushing the taller off of him. "Yeah, I fucking wonder why."

"I'm so sick of both of your sarcasm," you announce, throwing your hands up in defeat. "But whatever." You turn to smile at Jungkook. "Hey, Kook. Any plans after school today?"

Jungkook immediately perks up, grinning from ear to ear. "No, why?"

"Well I dunno, I was wondering if we can go to the bowling alley," you say, scratching your head shyly. You're not usually one to initiate any hangout, leaving Jungkook absolutely shocked.

"U-Us?" He asks, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

"Yeah, the four of us, you know? Why are you so surprised?" you giggle, nervously twisting strands of your hair. "Not good at bowling?"

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head as he stands up straight and tall. "Uh no. I'll have you know that I used to take bowling lessons. Prepare your ass to be run over by the professional."

"Mhm, sure." You nod your head, voice dripping with pure sarcasm. "Bet. Loser buys dinner."

"You're on. Yoongs? Tae?" Jungkook asks. He turns to his friends who look at him disapprovingly.

"Hold up, we never agreed to this!" Yoongi complains as his face wrinkles in distraught. "Save me and my empty wallet!"

"Same, I'm kinda a broke fuck sooo..." Taehyung trails off.

"Fine. We all play then. But whoever scores the lowest between Jungkook and I will pay. Good?" you dictate as your competitive and slightly bossy side takes over.

"Perfect as usual," Jungkook sings as he swings his arm around you. "I'm thinking lobster night, what about you guys? And we'll thank Y/N in advance for the meal since I'm so gonna win."

You feel his warm arm around your shoulder, and instinctively, you lean in. His figure is warm against your side, his proximity letting you smell his fresh, clean scent. "Watch it, Kook. Don't make promises you can't keep," you chirp, smirking confidently. "I know a great lobster place downtown. Hella overpriced, but totally worth it. We'll go there."

"Great! It's all set then," Taehyung says, clapping his hands. "I'm practically drooling already!"

"I love freeloading off of my besties!" Yoongi chimes in, a great grin tattooed on his face.

"Don't worry you're not freeloading completely. You'll pay for dessert," Jungkook chuckles, momentarily taking his arm off of you as he slaps his friend's back. The shorter male grumbles unintelligible things, glaring daggers into Jungkook.

"Hold up, I just have to tell my cousin not to wait for me after school," you say, fishing out your phone as Jungkook slips his casual arm off of you. "Or else he'll worry and call the fire department, the police, the navy and the fucking president."

"Your cousin? The Kim Seokjin?" Taehyung says in awe as his eyes turn glassy. "He's so hot."

"Hey!" Yoongi protests, elbowing Taehyung in the stomach. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he looked hella jealous. "I mean... er, that's very inappropriate to say to your teacher!"

The last remark makes your face burn hot, (considering you've done worse with your teacher) so you quickly attempt to cover it by ducking your head down to dial Jin.

Your cousin answers in three rings. "Y/N????" he practically screeches. Even an idiot could tell he was worried, almost as if you called to break some bad news to him. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, hi," you chirp calmly. "No nothing's wrong I—"

"Oh thank god," Jin sighs into the phone. You slightly flinch as you hear a front-row sample of your cousin's dramatic breath. "So what's up?"

"Uh, yeah well, listen, Jin, you don't have to pick me up today after school. I'm going out with a couple of friends."

"Come again? Friends?? What frie—o-oh, uh, I mean, really? Um yeah, have fun then and be safe!" Jin slightly stutters.

"Excuse me, what do you mean, what friends? I have friends. A lot of them!" you announce, frowning. You grip your phone with two hands, lowering your voice: "I mean, now I do."

Jin laughs on the other line. "Mhm. Alrighty, Y/N. But for real, have fun and be safe, okay?"

"You know I will!"

"Good. Make sure to be with your friends at all times! Don't go wandering off on your own okay? Do you have enough money? When and where should I pick you up? Huh? Y/N?" Jin frowns he deattaches his phone from his ear. What the heck, you had just stopped talking. But that's when he realizes you'd ended the call quite some time ago.

Your cousin scoffs, shaking his head. He assumes you must've been so excited and ended the call early. A grin blossoms on his tired face. He can't remember the last time you had hung out with other people other than him and Jimin. Jin's glad that things are looking up for you—and he hopes things will stay that way.

"Did I ever mention how proud I am of you?" Jimin whispers. He nudges you softly as your cheeks slowly turn into a pale shade of pink from sheer contact with your boyfriend.

Scribbling down the last few words of your literature essay, you smile, resting your head against Jimin's shoulder. "I think this is the tenth time today, actually." You feel so safe by his side, perched on a chair pulled up by his desk. It's almost as if his classroom is your second home since you spend so much time with him in there. "But you can say that a million more times and I won't ever mind hearing it again."

Jimin laughs heartily, eyes scrunching up beautifully and lips pulling apart gorgeously. "God, I love you." He leans in to peck your lips lightly, sending your head soaring ten miles up the sky. The warmth of his mouth on yours lingers even after he pulls away, and you reach to touch your own lips to chase the heat.

"I love you too," you giggle, "aren't you glad I didn't say 'you and me both' this time?"

"Well, in your defense, you really didn't know it was common etiquette to say it back. Besides 'you and me both' can be our thing, you know? It can be just as romantic as saying 'I love you too,' " Jimin swoons, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand.

"I actually like that idea," you say, reaching up to ruffle Jimin's soft, black hair. "Say you love me again, please?"

"Jeez, am I starting to get you into clichés?" Jimin chuckles, leaning into your delicate touch. "I love you, alright?"

You snuggle up against your boyfriend's warmth, giggling as you take his hand in yours. "You and me both, Jimin."

Your boyfriend can't help but grin wildly at you. And you return his grin, flirtatiously batting your lashes to tease him. Subconsciously, your tongue darts out of your mouth, slowly wetting your lips. Jimin watches your every movement, eyes narrowing as his breathing slows.

Before you can say another word, his warm hands grasp your thighs, hoisting you up onto his desk leaving his papers flying across all corners of the room.

You squeak in surprise, gripping on Jimin's button-up shirt. "What the fuck, Jimin? You're so clum—"

You're interrupted when his lips come crashing down on yours, his hands coming up to caress the sides of your face as you rest your hands in his hair. Deciding to tease your boyfriend a bit, you part your lips only slightly, which Jimin takes as an invitation to attempt to slip his tongue through. But he soon finds out the small space between your plump, kissed lips is just not enough.

You giggle, satisfied with your teasing as Jimin becomes visibly frustrated. He whines, mouth still on yours as he pushes your bodies hard against each other. But you refuse to give in. Your boyfriend's hands fly down to your thighs, gripping them hard. "Stop teasing," he mutters breathlessly into your mouth.

His hands are leaving warm imprints on your legs, and you revel in the feeling, softly kissing the corner of Jimin's lips. "Or what? Do you have an event planned or something?" you say smartly.

You literally swear on your perfect grades that you hear Jimin fucking growl. You're still contemplating if you're dating a goddamn wolf or not when your back is roughly pushed back on the wooden desk. You yelp in shock, forced to peer up to see Jimin, smirking as he hovers over you. "Yes, I do quite have an event planned," he teases right back.

Now you can't help but stare at him with hooded eyes. It's almost as if you forgot that you were human, a fucking student, for goodness' sake. Your actions seem animalistic, full of something people would call lust.

Jimin's careful not to crush you with the weight of his body as he leans in to kiss you again. This time, you let his tongue slip through your parted lips.

There are no thoughts in your head. Only the feeling that you need to be closer to Jimin, that you're not close enough to him, even though he is practically on top of you. You can feel your temperature soaring up as his mouth devours yours in a deep, passionate way. He tastes like mint, your favorite.

"Jimin..." you sigh, legs intertwining with his as you firmly grip the front of his shirt.

You don't know if your boyfriend took that as some sort of sign, or if he was getting too hot, but the next thing you know, he's starting to unbutton the white collared shirt. You don't mind at all.

Instead, you tug Jimin's head closer to yours, deepening the fiery kiss and sending heat coursing through your veins. Both of you don't need to pause for breath as if the lack of oxygen would never keep you apart.

Jimin's still fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and you contemplate breaking the kiss to help him out. But his lips are so warm on yours, moving in sync while pulling and parting. Without realizing, you let out a little moan. Normally, you'd be embarrassed, but you were too occupied to care. Besides, no doubt Jimin heard; his fingers were moving faster than ever, trying to discard his tight shirt off of his body. Something you have nothing to complain about—

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

You break the long kiss apart, not to breathe, but to scream. Fuck. You can recognize that (shrill) voice anywhere.

There your fucking cousin was, standing in the doorway. He looks like as if he's been to and survived the goddamn Western Front back in World War I. And you kind of know why.

For one, you're still pinned under Jimin in a vulnerable (rather unflattering) position. Your face is flushed, lips swelled an angry red and clothes beyond what a normal iron can fix. Jimin's shirt is three-quarters unbuttoned, revealing his abs to the wrong person at the wrong time.

It looks fucking bad. And both of you know it.

Jimin's the first to react, scrambling to get off from atop of you and fumbling to button up his shirt. "J-Jin! We er... I mean, I thought you were gonna be in a meeting for two more hours!"

Your cousin is silent as if he was still taking in the atrocious scene. You're in a hurry to fix your hair and clothes, avoiding eye contact to save your own ass. Jin was going to burst out screaming any second now and you and Jimin both knew it.

"MY COUSIN???? AND MY BEST FRIEND?????" Jin hollers as predicted. His forehead vein protrudes unattractively as his eyes bulge out.

You and Jimin both flinch back, you gripping Jimin's arm for support out of instinct. Jin catches the action and screams: "NO! DON'T TOUCH HIM! DON'T TOUCH HER! WHAT THE—I-I—THIS IS — OH MY GOD ILLEGAL—WHAT THE ACTUAL F—"

Your poor cousin is a blubbering, shrieking mess. And honestly, you can't blame him. You and Jimin had started slacking off, being quite careless when it came to public displays of affection. It was both of your faults that your cousin had found out like this.

You helplessly look at Jimin in hopes for some sort of comfort, but upon looking at his scared face, you realize how much trouble you were actually in.

"WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS AT HOME. GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. OHMYF—" Jin abruptly stops his yelling to massage his head. "Oh my god," he breathes. "We're going home."

Jimin looks at you, eyes reflecting pure fear as he wordlessly begs you to ride in his car. You're just as frightened, not knowing what your unpredictable cousin would say or do. Would he make you break up with Jimin? Would he ban you from seeing your boyfriend again? Force you to move schools?

Nevertheless, you're about to nod to agree when Jin turns around, glaring at both of you. "Y/N, you're coming with me. Jimin, I'll see you in the living room in five minutes."

Your cousin grabs your arm, dragging you away from your boyfriend who still looks shellshocked. You don't blame him. This had not ended the way you thought it would.

The last thing you see before you're pulled out of the classroom is Jimin raking his hand through his hair in frustration, mouthing the words, "We're fucking screwed."

It does nothing to calm your nerves.

—previous | next

—masterlist

[ba-responds]

Imagine: Being Garrett Douglas’ True Mate (Part One)**

Garrett Douglas x Reader

A/n: This is a 2 parter. Don’t get too used to stuff like this, because Older/Younger smut/relationships make me slightly uncomfortable now, but I like how this one turned out! **Warning(s): Smut, Sex, DUBCON*, Alpha Kink, Older/Younger, Teacher/student 

        -Dubcon: consent is unknown or uncertain, and this is distinguished from consent being definitely absent, as in non-con. Often, a character involved is uncertain about whether he or she wants to participate.

Word Count: 4K

Masterlist

Garrett Douglas clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as he stared at you from down the hall. You were surrounded by your ‘pack’, all of you talking and laughing about something that Garrett couldn’t care less about. The only thing he could focus on was you. Your smile, your body, everything. You were leaning against the lockers, watching with gleeful eyes as Liam did a little dance move that made you laugh. Garrett took a deep breath, trying to desperately control himself. His fist clenched and his fingernails dug into his palms as he tore his eyes away from you, instead glaring up at the ceiling so he could collect his thoughts. 

“Good morning Mr. Douglas,” a student said as she passed by him to get in the classroom. He glanced down at her with a fake small smile, nodding in acknowledgment to her. Loosening his clenched fist, he pulled them behind his back as he felt the skin heal, before carefully reaching into his pocket, pulling out a tissue to clean the little drops of blood that came out of the healed wounds. He wore a fake smile as more students passed him to enter his class, letting his gaze scan the hallway. You were walking backwards, with your back facing him, as you were saying your last parting words to your friends, Lydia by your side. After saying your last few words, you turned back around, walking side by side with Lydia, heading straight towards Garrett. Garrett genuinely smiled for the first time in a few days as he watched you walk closer and closer to him. 

“Good morning,” He said, letting his eyes linger on you for a second before sliding towards the redhead. Both of you smiled politely, but he felt your eyes look him up and down, trying to be discreet.

“Morning,” Lydia said, barely paying attention to him, and slipping into the class. His eyes snapped back to you, sending you a small smirk and a wink. Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped a little, before you sped past him, muttering a light ‘good morning’. Garrett wore a large smirk as he closed the classroom door, walking up to the front of the classroom.

“Okay, so is everyone ready for AP Physics?” He asked, smiling when he heard a loud series of groans.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You huffed as you stared down at the textbook in front of you, trying to find out the best way of doing the new ‘fun’ advanced physics project; which consisted of building a functioning boat or raft capable of carrying, and supporting, two people, only using thin plastic materials, cheap tape, and nylon twine. Groaning, you glanced up at Lydia, who was sitting on the other side of the room with her assigned partner, already looking like they had a plan for the project. 

“Can we use Duct tape?” Rylan, your newly assigned lab partner, asked as he stared over your shoulder at the directions sheet in front of you. Shaking your head in response, you flinched lightly when he rested his chin on your shoulder playfully. “Well we're going to need really strong plastic to carry both of us,”

“It can't exceed ¼ of an inch thick, though,” you muttered, leaning your head to the side so it knocked gently on his. Rylan was one of your friends, not a best friend, but a close friend nonetheless. He was a really sweet guy, who always playfully acted as if you two were a couple, despite him being gay, but you didn't mind. 

“Any ideas?” He asked, his chin still on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist so he could type on the laptop you had on your lap. Shaking your head, you leaned back into his chest with a huff, letting your eyes scan the room to spot if anyone else was as hopeless as you were. Your gaze came to a halt when you saw the look on Mr. Douglas’ face. He had a look you never seen on him before, one that was almost well disguised, but you could tell by his glare and clenched jaw that he was mad. His eyes suddenly met your gaze, making your heart skip a beat as your gaze shot down to the textbook in front of you.

 You cursed yourself for staring, but who wouldn't stare at the young, sexy teacher? As you tried to make sure you didn't seem like you were just staring at him, you couldn't help but imagine all of your dirty little fantasies you had about Mr. Douglas. It was just something you couldn't help, you felt compelled to be near him, to be with him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you tried to reason to yourself that all these fantasies were actually possible, because of the fact that you were 18 years old, and considered a legal adult. This fact sometimes reassured you, seeming to make the possibility of being with Mr. Douglas even greater.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” Rylan asked, pinching your thigh. Snapping out of your thoughts, you immediately nodded, before leaning forwards to continue trying to think of the best structure your boat could have.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Garrett gulped, trying his best to stay in control but you were making it really hard. Even when he turned away and focused on something else, he couldn't help but to continue to think about you; which usually wouldn't bother him, but now that you were in that Bastard’s arms, he could barely stop his hands from shaking in anger. 

“I thought he was fucking gay, or else I wouldn't have partnered him with my (Y/n),”Garrett thought to himself as he forced himself to take deep breaths. He glared up at the clock, waiting for the moment he could let the class leave. When that time finally came, he immediately stood up, telling the class that they were free to go, which everyone seemed happy about. Garrett held his head in his hands as the students packed up, groaning lowly as he felt a headache come on. After a minute of quiet shuffling, a single pair of footsteps made him look up with an annoyed face.

“Um, excuse me Mr. Douglas,” you muttered, with a small smile as you stepped forward. His heart leapt in his chest as he stared up at your (e/c) eyes. He almost grinned, but then he smelled his scent all over you, making him frown and almost let out a growl.

“What?” He snapped, making your eyes widen as you fumbled on your words.

“I-I um… I was wondering if t-there's any tips you can give me for this project. We uh….we really couldn't think of anything useful,” You said, avoiding his gaze. He felt anger bubble up inside him, not because of you, but because that bastard Rylan had distracted you from reaching your full potential.

“Well maybe if you and Rylan were actually listening instead of cuddling in the back, you would have heard me tell the class that there is a tip sheet online,” he growled out, rolling his eyes as he stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you flinch and look down sadly, muttering an apology, your heart pounding in your chest. Garrett couldn't quite tell whether it was beating rapidly out of embarrassment of being called out, or something else.

“Knock that stupid PDA shit out, it's fucking annoyingly,” he hissed lowly, feeling his fist clench just thinking back to how comfortable you seemed to be with Rylan. “You're supposed to be with me, and only me,”.

“I'm sorry,” you muttered, speeding out of the class, a few tears dripping down your face. Garrett felt his eyes change colors as the room was bathed in red, as he lost control of himself. He wanted badly to go after you and apologize, but he just couldn't get the image of you and Rylan out of his head.

You leaning on Rylan’s chest with a small smile, with his arms wrapped around you; Rylan resting his chin on your shoulder, while yours leaned gently against it. Garrett felt his chest become tight as he tried to suck in a desperate breath. His vision started to fade as he stumbled to the supply closet at the far side of the room. Yanking the door open, he grasped at the helium tank on the shelf, pulling it down to him. Grabbing the facemask already connected to it, he held it up to his mouth, before turning the tank on. Garrett took deep breaths of the helium as he let his body slid down the wall until he sat on the cold tile floor. Looking up at the ceiling, he shook his head. These ‘attacks’ had been happening more and more recently, and he knew exactly what was causing it. Not being with his mate was going to kill him.

“That's it. I need her,” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You winced and groaned as you limped down the empty street, wrapping your thin jacket further around your body as you desperately tried to cling to the little heat you had. Your eyes scanned the sidewalk, slightly paranoid about all the Ghost Rider activity that has been happening lately. 

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself as you put a little too much pressure on your hurt ankle. Hopping on one foot to the nearby bus stop, you flopped down on the seat. Gently lifting your right leg, you rested your ankle on your left knee. Poking your swollen ankle a little to test the pain, you hissed. Your shoulders slumped as a tear threatened to fall from your eye. 

Of course it was just your luck to sprain your ankle on the walk to your house from Scott's house. Since you were only about 10 minutes away from your house when it happened, you didn't think of calling anyone, not wanting to bother anyone at this time of night; besides your parents weren't going to be home tonight, so you didn't have to worry about being in at a certain time. After resting for a few more minutes, you hesitantly stood up, softly putting more and more pressure on your hurt ankle, until you felt confident enough to continue walking on it. After taking a few agonizing steps, you hissed out in pain, muttering a few curses. A black car driving past made you look up out of curiosity, watching as it slowly came to a stop in the middle of the street a few feet away from you. Your heart dropped as you mentally prepared to run as fast as you could on your hurt ankle, continuing to limp faster than before. The car’s window then started to roll down, and that is when you noticed the familiar face.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay? It's almost 1 in the morning, what are you doing out here so late?” Mr. Douglas questioned as he stepped out of the car, hurrying over to you when you stumbled. You gave him an embarrassed smile, before pointing down at your ankle.

“Uh, I tripped and hurt my ankle. I'm just trying to get home now,” you muttered as he helped you up, letting you grip on his arm as you found your balance.

“Come on, I'll give you a ride,” he said, helping you to the passenger side of the car. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the thought of being in the same car as Mr. Douglas, your mind immediately coming up with a dirty fantasy of what the two of you could do in the car. You looked down at your feet so he couldn't see your face, not wanting to chance the possibility of him reading your expression. After helping you inside the car, he jogged around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat before he turned to you.

“What's your address,” he asked, glancing over at you, concern still etched on his face. You told him your address, looking discreetly around the black interior of the car. 

“Thank you,” you said when there was an awkward silence, looking at him before shifting your gaze out of the window. He sighed deeply, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“I'm sorry about earlier… I didn't mean to snap on you, I was just having a bad day,” He said, as he pulled the car up in front of your house. He immediately jumped out, rushing over to your side as you opened the door and tried to put weight on your hurt ankle. “Careful!”

He held out his arm so you could grip it and lean against him to shift your weight. As the two of you walked to your door, taking your time, he looked around at the dark windows, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Is anyone home?” He questioned, as you reached into your pocket to get your house keys. Simply shaking your head, you unlocked the door, trying to pull away from Mr. Douglas, but he held onto your arm, insisting he at least help you to the couch and  check out your ankle. Upon stepping inside and closing the door, you twisted to try to flick on the light, but you ended up putting way too much pressure on your ankle, making your leg crumple from under you. Mr. Douglas immediately reached out to catch you, but instead was tripped by you accidentally, making him fall on top of you. You yelped when the back of your head came in contact with the ground harshly, darting forward to grab a hold of the new injury. Upon doing this, your face mashed into something, your lips catching the side of something soft. You immediately recognized your mistake, and pulled back, slamming your head on the ground once again, this time seemingly harder than the first time. You hissed as you squeezed your eyes shut, your face heating up with embarrassment.

“I think I just accidentally kissed him…” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“She just kissed me…” Garrett thought shocked, a smile creeping onto his face. Just the small kiss had sent shivers up his spine, his body feeling rejuvenated. In a moment of weakness, he couldn't control himself, so he reached up, catching your jaw. He closed his eyes as he leaned down, connecting your lips. He felt you freeze, and could hear your heart skip a beat before speeding up. Slowly you seemed to melt in the kiss, finally feeling the same sparks he felt. Goosebumps rose on his skin under your touch, your fingers hesitantly drifting up his arms. 

After a few more moments, he reluctantly pulled away, taking a deep breath. You panted under him, and with his Alpha vision, he could see that your eyes were closed, your lips slightly parted. You slowly opened your eyes, staring up at him, dazed. Your eyes suddenly widened, as you shot from under him, crawling backwards.

“Y-Your eyes…” you muttered, staring at him shocked and slightly terrified.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After the kiss, you laid completely shocked under Mr. Douglas, your eyes still closed as you tried to process everything that just happened. The kiss had your mind clouded, and all you could think about was how perfect his lips felt on yours; the rush that seemed to flow through your body. You slowly opened your eyes, taking a second to be able to focus in the darkness. When you finally made eye contact with him, you gasped, crawling backwards away from him as fast as you could.

“Y-Your eyes…” you muttered, staring into his glowing red eyes. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes for a second before looking at him again, only to see that the red eyes were still there. He looked at you panicked for a moment, as if he couldn't think of an excuse.

“I-I uh…” he stuttered, frozen to his spot.

“Y-You're an Alpha….” you whispered, gulping. “I just made out with an alpha...who's also my teacher…” 

“You're my mate,” he admitted out of nowhere, as if that would explain things, but it only confused you further. 

“His mate? It couldn't be…” you thought, trying to think of everything Deaton had told you about mates. It wasn't much, but you do remember him mentioning a thing called ‘true mates’, but that couldn't be possible right? Not you of all people. You were so wrapped up in your  thoughts, you didn't realize he came closer until he was right in front of you.

“You're mine,” he growled, his nose flaring as he grabbed your arms. His lips suddenly smashed onto yours, making you gasp. His tongue found its way into your mouth as he pushed you back so you were laying down on the ground again. Through your jumbled mind, you couldn't focus on anything other than the need to be with him. That need clouded your judgement, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He groaned, his hands traveling down to grip your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. 

Pulling away, you gasped for air as he began to attack your neck with kisses. The thought of stopping him past through your mind, but it was quickly discarded when he began to suck bruises into your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as you brought your hands up to run through his soft hair. 

He suddenly pulled away, sitting up to yank off his jacket and shirt. You watched mesmerized as he smirked down at you, his eyes still glowing red, but you couldn't care less at the moment. After tossing his shirt to the side, he pulled you up unexpectedly, lifting you into his arms as he crossed the room to the couch. He fell backwards onto the couch so you were on top of him. After taking a second to get comfortable and to take off your jacket, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling down into another heated kiss. You moaned into the kiss, grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants.

You couldn't understand what came over you, but this urge was making you want him so bad. You broke the kiss to rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side before leaning down for another kiss. A shiver went up your spine as his hands traveled your sides, unclasping your bra, before reaching under to cup your breast. After taking the bra away, without breaking the kiss, you dropped it on the floor next to you. 

Garrett suddenly twisted, maneuvering the two of you so he was now on top. He growled lowly as he attacked your chest, his hands freely roaming your body. You threw your head back, your lips parted in a quiet moan.

“Why am I doing this?” You thought to yourself, as your fingers traced his back muscles. He kissed down your neck, before clamping down on one of your nipples, the other being toyed with his hand. You arched your back some, grinding your hips onto his, drawing a soft groan from him. His fingers drifted south, swiftly pulling down your pants and underwear with your help. You fumbled to unbutton his jeans, zipping down the zipper quickly. Deciding you were taking too long, Garrett decided to do it himself, yanking down his pants. Once everything was off, his lips connected to yours again, this time harder than before, more needy. His nails dug into your skin some, making you whimper slightly, but he ignored it.

“I'm gonna make sure you stay mine,” he growled as he dug his nails further into your thighs, making you squirm under him. He suddenly pulled one of your legs up,  making you gasp as he settled in between your legs, his erection against your core, but not penetrating.

“Mr. Douglas…” you muttered, your eyes rolling back as he sucked on your bare nipple. 

“I'm your alpha! Call me your Alpha!” He growled lowly, nipping at your shoulder. Your mouth dropped open again when his hips started to grind against you, his cock rubbing against your clit. 

“A-Alpha…” you panted, grabbing a fistful of his soft brown hair. He hummed in delight at the name, grinding a little harder against you. “Please Alpha…”

He sat back, his hand reaching down to line himself with your entrance. A sudden thrust later, you yelped, clenching around him at the sudden evasion. A tear rolled down your cheek from pain, but he quickly wiped it away with his thumb. You looked up at him, biting your lip as you adjusted to his size. His eyes were still red, but this time he had a dazed look on his face. He leaned down, his lips only an inch away from yours.

“You're mine,” he mumbled once again, before harshly kissing you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You eagerly kissed back, forgetting the pain, and being consumed by the intense pleasure that being with him brought. He slowly began rocking his hips, pulling out of your slowly, before burying himself back in once again. He groaned loudly as he picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming faster and faster. He suddenly grabbed your hands, which were trailing his chest and down his stomach, holding them above your head with one hand. 

“You're so good for your Alpha, aren't you?” He said, as your head lolled back when his thrust became slow again, teasing you.

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, closing your eyes. You desperately wanted to grasp onto something, but his strong grip on both of your wrists prevented you from doing so. With his thrust still going slow, he leaned forward, his lips skimming past yours, before going towards your ear.

“Beg,” he whispered into your ear, which sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your eyes, staring right into his as you begged.

“Please,”

“Please what?”

“Please Alpha, make me yours,” 

“Good girl,” he groaned, his chest rumbling with a low purr. Your response seemed to send a surge of thrill through him, his hips began jerking harder and faster. Your own hips began to move in rhythm with his, soft moans slipping from your parted lips. He began muttering how much of a good girl you were in your ear, pushing you closer and closer to your edge. You felt his nails grow, digging into your wrist, which made you his. His soft groans began to sound more like animalistic growls as his hips jerked harder and harder, shaking the couch erratically. As your legs began to shake, and you started to clench around him, he buried his face into your neck, panting hard. You gasped for breath as your orgasm washed over you, clenching around his cock as he buried himself inside you, growling in pleasure as he came inside you. 

His teeth suddenly sunk into your shoulder harshly, making you let out a loud blood curdling scream and you jerked your body away from him. You fell onto the floor in a heap, your hurt ankle slamming onto the couch, making you cry out and grasp it. Using your good foot, you backed away from him, scrambling to find clothes to put on. Blood dripped from your wounded shoulder, just like the tears dripped down your face. After quickly finding your pants, and tugging on a random shirt, which turned out to be his, you scrambled to your feet, putting most of your weight on your good ankle. 

You gripped your shoulder as agonizing pain exploded in the wound, almost making your knees go weak. Your hands clutched your phone, which was in your pants pocket. Your eyes shot to Garrett as he finally stood up, his naked body standing straight as he looked at you with a smirk.

“What the fuck!” You yelled, stumbling backwards as he walked closer to you. You fell onto your butt, scooting backwards as he came to a stop a few feet in front of you. Discreetly, you pressed the screen on your phone, unlocking it, and dialing Lydia on video-chat, who you hoped would answer.

“You said you wanted me to make you mine, so I just did. Now no one will have you, only me,” he chuckled, as he picked up his discarded pants, tugging them on. Your eyes squeezed closed as tears continued to fall from your eyes. The pain was unbearable, it was so bad, you couldn't even force yourself up so you could get away from your mate. The door suddenly flew open, making you jump and look. 

“No….” you muttered when you spotted a group of Ghost Riders at the door, all walking in to circle you, Garrett standing in the middle of them with a wicked smirk. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest as you shook your head, feeling desperate. Sweat dropped down your forehead as the room suddenly began to get hot, your vision began to blur as a loud high pitched ringing sounded in your ears. Your phone vibrated, making you look down at it, seeing that Lydia had answered and was looking worriedly, yelling words you could no longer hear. 

“Help…” you muttered to her, as you stared up at Garrett, who held one of the Ghost Rider’s whips. The last thing you saw before everything went black, was him bringing the whip down, and a flash of green smoke.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[rosyluv]

—Chapter Two: It’s That Stupid Dinosaur Costume Running Like A Madman.

A/n: me and my sister wrote this at 4am so it’s v chaotic and weird, also i have a Spotify playlist for the series “avengers assemble: avenge club.” Enjoy!

Warning: none. Rlly bad comedy and minor bullying if you will.

——

“What new girl?’’

Is the first thing that Bruce says after five or so minutes. Carol, the new girl, is looking in between them, confused and waiting for someone to de-freeze --and for the love of god could they stop gawking at her like she’s some god-forsaken alien, who shoots fire out of her fists. (She starts to think that being new in this academy is like a rare disease) Is this how they greeted all the new kids? Because if so then she’s going to have a blast the next years sitting alone at lunch, thank you.

“I just transferred here,’’ she says slowly for their equally slow brains to understand.

“No new kid transferred here since like ... five years ago.’’ Rhodey says. “Why did you do that to yourself?’’ he asks, genuinely confused and equally upset.

She gave a look at the fighting and arguing in the hallway. “I can see why you’d ask that.’’

Right then, they hear the hallway mic screech, turning on annoyingly loudly, and they hear Nick’s voice: “All students head to the gymnasium, this is nothing but a mild inconvenience. If I see one student in the hallway in ten seconds, you’ll earn yourself detention for the rest. Of. The. School year.’’ He says, his voice authoritative and final over the mic.

Then after – miraculously—all the students stop the arguing and fighting to head to the direction of the gym like Nick ordered. “Where’s Nick?’’ Carol asks, when the hallway is almost empty.

“Nick?’’ they all say in unison, confused and frowning in disbelief. She called him Nick.

She looks frustrated. “The headmaster, the guy who was just talking?’’

“It’s Mr. fury.’’ Nick climbs the stairs and stands Infront of Carol, ignoring the others and glaring at her. Carol smiles, unaffected by his monotone, attitude or dark clothes, almost like she is familiar with him.

“Yeah, whatever.’’

“You’re late, two classes behind.’’ He sternly says.  

“Well, There’re no teachers and i don’t have my timetable yet.’’ He glares and she smiles innocently and half raises her head cheekily, ’whatcha gonna do?’ expression. Same expression Clint does- same expression they all do. Like that time, they broke the fire alarm, because Clint wanted to know what would happen if you lit a watermelon on fire. ‘’It has 92 percent water in it Nat; nothing bad will happen.’’ Turns out sticking ‘those fire emergency stick thingys in the school buses’ in 3 watermelons wasn’t the bad Clint was talking about, but it was a profound -watermelon explode- disaster and ‘burned watermelon smells like burned water.’ Followed by ‘how the hell do you possibly know what burned water smells like, Barton?’

Fury hands Carol a piece of paper, she scrunches up her nose when she takes a look at it, visibly disliking it, (it would be weirder if she did like it), and AP chemistry after lunch was much to dislike. Maybe she’ll skip it and-

“Don’t think of skipping AP chemistry.’’

Her eyes narrow and she almost defends herself.

“Or AP math.’’ He says in finality and she pops her mouth shut.

Nick just now looks at the – still – confused others in the back, and tiredly rolls his eyes.

“This is Carol, she just transferred here from up-state.’’ Nick seems frustrated and tired. “Can someone please show her around school?’’ but it’s not really a “can you please?” question, it’s more of a “who of you?” Question. No one volunteers still, because all experiences with kids from academies up-state is that they are a teeny, tiny a lot arrogant and self-centered. Like Thor who used to live in western Australia up-state, because he just won’t stop talking about it. ‘schools in Australia where I lived were way less incompetent.’

Now it was 10 seconds, (not like Nick counted it) and they were still ignoring him. Val makes a sound in the back of her throat like a groan, “Fine, I’ll do it.’’ Then she walks away with Carol trailing behind.  

“Clint, Nat, go look for the teachers again, make sure you find them this time, while I contain the damage in the gymnasium. This is still a school day.’’ He sharply orders and they take in the serious tone, because they nod once and walk the opposite direction Carol and Val went.

Nick steps forward and heads quietly to the gym, they – of course – follow behind, until they’re in-front of the two large doors filled with chatter inside that’s somehow not fighting. Pietro, Thor and Wanda who came back from where they were, join the others now. There’s no more arguing and ‘hallway disturbance and breakage and wrecking of things in the hallways, it’s calm, not clean, but at least calm and quiet and only chairs scraping at the floor, and that old closet filled with aging silver trophies’ rusted doors getting swayed by the wind is heard. Unlike it was two minutes ago.

Nick turns to them and sighs. “This is exactly what I was saying, the whole school is reckless and divided, and the kids never agree on anything and they don’t help each other like they should. Now I knew I would never understand what you kids want and how you perceive socialism in your own way these days. And if I put an action or a plan to handle these things, and how the school should work; they were going to be my way, which of course you would’ve immediately hated and disagreed with. That’s why I invested my trust in the responsibility I offered you, so you could be able to do that instead of me. You would understand what this school needs to be like. Unlike the other students. Just the thirteen of you are the ones who showed any concern for the bad things happening.’’ Nick says.

Sam actually regrets not being the one guiding Carol around school right now, so he wouldn’t be feeling guilty about letting Nick down, but well this is how all of them were feeling like. Even Tony, who a second later adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and says. “Well, you may consider other people,’’

Then he walks away and doesn’t enter the gymnasium, Nick doesn’t seem to care. Pepper and Rhodey following after mumbling a soft ‘sorry Nick’, Thor is the next to leave saying, ‘I’ll go find Loki.’ And Bruce offering to help him. Pietro and Wanda give a small nod and then leave, also. Sam pats Nicks back then stands away. Steve doesn’t leave, he stands stubbornly still in front of Nick, who’s holding the gymnasium door open, waiting for Steve, Bucky and Sam to leave.

Bucky standing close behind, puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder, “c’mon Steve.’’ he shifts on his feet and then finally gives up and leaves with Bucky and Sam.

---  

The school isn’t even circle shaped, or round, but Clint keeps saying -- every five seconds -- ‘we’re running in round shapes’ or more like whines the wrong metaphor out. In return Nat calmly says. ‘the school isn’t round Clint.’ So, she’s probably trying to occupy his mind, because she’s done with him and the whole day and everyone, and it’s not even the afternoon yet (and the academy is weirdly big and filled with classrooms and hallways like a maze.) And that would suck because it’s not even 10am and Clint haven’t showed her that funny frog video-

“Wait, I remember it!’’ he half yells. “It’s ‘running in circles’ People say it as a metaphor.’’ He says. “I swear I’m not high! it’s just 9am and a school day and I didn’t get any sleep last night.’’ He mumbles.

“Wow, so you did read our English novel.’’ She says and she’s supposed to sound amused by the context of what she’s saying, Clint thinks. She isn’t though. Just a dull face, and him trying to read her; well that’s just Natasha and Clint anyway.

“No. Why would I? There’s no pictures!’’

She ignores him and keeps looking in classes for the teachers. “We looked everywhere, so it’s either someone told them today is officially labeled Labor Day or Loki killed them, and buried them somewhere.’’

“You think he can actually kill someone?’’

“You think he actually hasn’t killed someone.’’ And then Clint’s face falls and Nat snorts. “I’m kidding, gee you’re never bad with gore.’’ They opened and closed some more classroom doors, really any doors in their way. The hallways were quieter now, so that’s a relief for Natasha’s headache anyway.

She glances at Clint over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with you today?’’

“Huh?’’

“You’re weird today.’’

“I’m always weird, you say that every day-’’

“No, I mean weird, weird. Like your anxious and jumpy and more self-aware of how you hate yourself.’’ She opens an empty classroom, mumbling something like, ‘where did he put them?’

“I may have not told you everything that happened about ... ‘’ He motions to his blackeye. “This.’’

She so slowly narrows her eyes and studies him. “You said some guy who doesn’t go here punched you because you annoyed him.’’

“Yeah- ‘’

“Which actually sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, now.’’ She frowns. “How did I believe that- ‘’

“I stole Brock Rumlow’s jacket.’’ She focuses on him and he realizes the context of what he said.

He stutters, widening his eyes. “Well no I didn’t -- at least not anything I remember, but he thinks I stole it at Saturdays party.’’

She glares, but stays calm. For now. “I told you not to go to that party, we don’t hang out with that crowd, and of course you went and ended up accused of stealing Brock fucking Rumlow’s varsity jacket.’’ She says, slightly gritty. and she has the ‘you screwed up and i will kill you after this is over myself’ face.

“I didn’t though!’’ He exclaims.

“I know dumbass.” She raises her voice a little. “He’s a psychopath, he accuses people of things they didn’t do because he likes that it amuses him, he beats people up and does shit like that all the time for fun. Now you actually screwed him over.” She grittes out. “Did he see you? Maybe someone who looked like you?’’ She thinks more to herself. Which gives him time to contaminate telling her what he’s about to tell her, or run away instead. Because if going to Brock’s party isn’t what’s going to kill him then this will. Or at least he thinks.

“Loki told him he saw me take it and leave- ‘’ she groans.

“Of course, he did.’’

“He says if I don’t get it by tomorrows basketball practice, he’ll report me.’’ And he’s panicking now. “Shit! What am I gonna do- ‘’ he says, like he just now felt the weight of the situation and trouble he’s in, Nat scoffs at that.

“Listen, we’ll find the teachers then find the boys and figure this out, Just don’t panic alright?’’ She reassures, then she takes a look at him. “You already are, aren’t you?’’

“No! no, it’s fine, this is fine, I’m O-K. It’s alright, it’s fin-’’ His voice gets higher at the end.

“We need to find the teachers because your having a panic attack, I think I know where they are. Come on.’’ She says, all serious now, going the opposite direction, towards the field.

 --

Thor and Bruce, who had been also going through the school hallway and looking through classrooms searching for Loki came up with nothing, and it’s been five minutes now. They didn’t even run into Nat and Clint. Maybe that’s just how big the academy is, or maybe they’re horrible at searching for people.

Or maybe not so bad since they spotted Loki getting out of a classroom, holding onto something behind his back.

Thor yells his name, catching his attention and runs his direction, Bruce sighs and follows.

“Why the hell would you screw with the report cards?’’ Thor yells frustrated.

“I can explain, just ...’’ he hands Bruce the varsity jacket that he was holding behind his back. “Hold this for a second. I’ll be right back.’’ He motions for Thor to wait with his hands. And calmly walks away into a different hallway.

Thor waits after 5 seconds. “He’s not coming back.’’

“Nope.’’

Then Thor curses under his breath and runs in the direction Loki walked in. Bruce deciding this is just family problem and he’s already having a much anxious day for a family confrontation, stays behind and turns around to walk the other way, although he hits something and his coffee spills on said something. The liquid spills on the jersey in his hand, (with the weird symbol on the back that doesn’t look like the school logo.) the coffee cup neglected now on the floor, Bruce turns to look at who he spilt his coffee on and —of course— its high school douchebag Brock Rumlow. Of course, his luck is just like that, and of course he’s with his other douchebag friends. He recognizes them well. On Brock’s left, Aldrich Killian, blonde hair, thats neatly slicked back, (and Bruce wants to tell him ‘we’re not in the 80s’ man), blue eyes, sharp jaw, and an almost no-fucks given face with tinted glasses lowered to the bridge of his nose, looking unbothered, finishes the look nicely. He takes a minute to remember that he knows about him not from his excellency in everything the school does, and how his name is always on top of school charts. (Although not essentially as Tony’s) but from Tony, he always rivaled him, and Tony always hated him, saying how full he was of himself which was a little hypocrite for Tony to say since he wasn’t much different, ‘at least I know how science actually works, unlike him.’

On his right, Hela, Thor and Loki’s big sister who’s blowing a bubblegum and holding her phone with long, green manicured nails and her scary piercing cat-like green eyes, an almost white sheet skin tone, and the dark eye make-up magnifying ‘the whole vampire look she got going on,’ like Loki would say. And next to her is, Erik Killmonger. Glasses, perfect lean broad athlete body, dark smooth skin, his hair in a half small dreadlock bun, wearing a denim jacket, over his designed uniform. He doesn’t know him much as much as he’s recognized with the other three, from his friends past experiences with them. Actually no one really knows anything about Erik, now that he does think about it.

Bruce finally breaks his ogling and stutters: “I - I’m so- I’m so sorry- oh god- ‘’

Brock stops glaring at Bruce’s face and his eyes waver to what he’s holding, “Is- Is that my jacket.’’ His face reddens and a vein displays in his forehead. And Bruce just notices, Brock isn’t wearing the jacket he’s always seen wearing. Just a white t-shirt that’s stained with coffee now.

Bruce begins to explain, but ends stammering. ‘’No, no, no.’’

“You spilt coffee on me and you have my fucking jacket,’’ he says, voice chillingly slow and calm.

Bruce does the one thing that pops in his mind, and ‘Loki would be proud’ he thinks In pity, “I can explain.’’ He says slowly before he bolts the other way.

Brock isn’t wasting time either, running after him full speed. Erik and Aldrich follow after and Hela who stays behind, opens her camera phone, “this should be fun.’’

Bruce who’s running, hallway to hallway, having a full-on panic attack, runs into the academy’s band changing room and see’s that giant big green monster costume, that looks like a dinosaur, hanged carefully next to the marching band costumes. He Hears foot steps outside the room and — this was predictable — quickly fumbles through the dinosaur costume and changes into it.

Now he is in the costume, putting the head on and he looks stupid wearing it at day with no football ... well, anything. More or so he’s feeling his anxiety grow bigger which is probably not a good sign too. He goes out of the back door and sees Rumlow and Erik at the end of the hallway, they see him, but don’t seem to really care or give attention to the weird kid in a green dinosaur costume and keep looking for ‘Bruce’

Almost satisfied that his plan worked he turns around and sighs— but he’s not met with the school main exist, Hela is in front of him, with towering frame and a smirk on her lips, she so slowly turns to Brock’s direction still looking at Bruce and ignoring his whispering pleas to stop.  

“He’s here!’’

“Shit.’’ He curses under his breath, as he— instead of exiting school like he planned, runs to his left, he goes through another hallway and runs because he can hear running behind him and at this point, he’s hating this day and wishes he stayed at the gym and didn’t help Thor look for Loki. He takes another left. Hopefully they lose his tail and then he’s again stumbling into someone and he can’t see who because, curse how big this thing’s head is. He raises it to the side and looks.

He sees who he stumbled on, “Loki?’’ then he realizes who he stumbled upon. “Loki!’’ he hisses and begins to demand an explanation for the jacket, but then Loki’s face whitens turning to look at the costume with disgust before he’s running the other way, and Bruce remembers him saying how much that big costume freaked him out. “It’s an ugly shade of green and the head isn’t even attached to the body, it’s horrible.”

Thor just now appears from where Loki came from and heaves a breath, then takes a good look at his friend in that ridiculous costume and frowns. “What Happened? I left you for five. Fucking. Minutes.’’

Bruce struggles to answer, “did you see where Loki went to?’’ and Bruce points at the direction he ran off to. But before Thor can run first, they hear shouting from behind and now Bruce is the one running first and Thor who doesn’t exactly have a grasp on what’s happening follows behind Bruce, to find Loki.

And then it’s Brock and his friends running after Thor who’s running after Bruce running after Loki, and it’s a mess and Bruce feels like he could vomit, but he can’t get beaten up for something he didn’t do, let alone understand why, at 9am. So maybe he’ll run till lunch break instead.

---

Steve hasn’t spoken a word since they left the gymnasium. And Sam and Bucky know why, but they’re hoping they’re wrong. Then Steve speaks.

“Nick’s right.”

They both roll their eyes and Sam shakes his head.

“We’re gonna do the club.”

Sam faces him. “Even if we Join you, No one is going to agree to that.”

“They will, eventually.”

“I know where this is going.” Bucky whispers to himself.

“I have a plan.”

Bucky winces, closing his eyes. “No.’’ he whispers.

Sam shakes his head. “Yeah, of course you do.”

Bucky opens his eyes. “Steve, noO-’’ but he’s already running the other direction.

“Let’s go!’’ he heads for the school back exist, he doesn’t get the chance to open it, because he reaches for the door handle and it’s already opening and then Nat steps inside and they both frown at eachother. Clint, who’s behind Nat, catches up now.

“What are you doing?’’

“Looking for you.’’ Nat narrows her eyes. “What are you doing?’’

He points at her. “Looking for you.’’ She nods. “Did you find the teachers?”

“Yes. We did.’’ Nat goes back outside and starts walking, they mostly follow her, but they already know where she’s going anyway.

Then cold, heavy wind makes Steve’s nose scrunch up, because it’s the end of September and it’s chilly and the air is damp and foggy and feels more like November. He puts his hand in his pockets and folds into himself so at least his jacket provides some warmth. Then he remembers Bucky hates winter and cold weather, more than him, ‘yes, spending half your summer breaks in Siberia can do that, Steve,’ and it’s true because he looks colder than Steve. Opposite to Nat who favors winter and Sam who’s too warm for his own good, then Clint who’s too fidgety but Steve thinks it’s not because of the weather.

“Where did you find them?’’ Sam asks curiously, when they reach ‘their place’ as Clint calls it. It’s really not, it’s a place that no one in school pays attention to, mostly because it’s hidden in the back of the academy, on the left, deep in tall trees. Clint found it when he got, ‘secretly’ drunk at a football game two years ago and woke up on the ground, surrounded by grass and tall, Doric columns, separated by a few centimeters and Clint had claimed it theirs. ‘It’s like I was supposed to be there, it’s crazy! We should make it our place.’ Which after a lot of persuading on Bucky’s side, to sit outside the warm academy on cold Doric walls instead; they agreed to make it their special hang out place. They sit there, sometimes do late unfinished homework before school starts or just sit and talk about anything and everything, or just do nothing at all sometimes.

Nat sat between two columns, and rested her legs up on the column in front of her, still used to her ballet classes, Clint thinks. “Remember that room at the end of the football yard, where they used to put away broken equipment or trash old files.’’ She says and continues when they nod. “Loki sent someone panicking telling some teachers that two students were killing eachother in that room and then to other teachers that a group of students were doing— or high on crack. He even told a teacher he saw a wolf in there.’’

“That explains why animal control was here,’’ Sam points his thumb at two men getting into a large van with, ‘animal control’ printed on it. One of the men faintly heard from where they are, says: “false call’’

“What kind of sociopath-- ‘’

“Yeah, we don’t have time to discuss Loki’s concerning behavior.’’ She pauses, “or actually, no, we do, since this concerns him.’’

Steve straightens his posture. “What happened?’’

Natasha takes a deep breath. “Rumlow thinks Clint stole his jacket because Loki said he saw him take it.’’

“He did what?’’

“You went to Brock’s party?’’ Are both said in unison to Clint after Nat finishes talking.

They all look disappointed at Clint. He sighs slowly and looks down, “was it worth it? No. Am i gonna do it again? Probably.”

Nat turns to him. “Am i surprised? No. Am I Disappointed? Yeah.” She nods at Clint and fake smiles and he sarcastically copies her expression.

Steve looks between Nat and Clint, tiredly. “Well, Thor said he’s going to look for Loki so if we find him, we’ll probably find Loki.’’

“And do what?’’ Nat asks.

“Well if Brock doesn’t have his jacket then Loki probably knows where it is or maybe he has it, so we’ll talk to him, see what he wants.’’ He explains to, Clint who’s leaning against the wall, and tapping his foot anxiously, biting at his nails. Bucky sitting next to Nat and Sam who’s standing beside him.

“And if he doesn’t reason, beat him up.’’ Nat declares. Nodding, like she 100% thinks that’s the right strategy.

Steve scoffs at her logic. “No! no one is beating anyone up.’’ He states. She dramatically rolls her eyes.

“What if we don’t find him?’’ Sam asks, more of questioning Nat and he looks like he’s scared of the answer.

Nat waits a second, “Brock said he’ll report Clint if he doesn’t get his jacket back by tomorrows basketball practice.’’

“That dick!’’ Bucky, who was quiet for the most part, says, his voice shaky and his teeth shattering. Steve should really tell him that he brought a spare jacket for him in his locker, because Steve saw the weather forecast and they said it would be cold, unlike Bucky who goes by how the weather should be according to the month, ‘they’re never right, why bother.’ Although Bucky is traditional like that and he hates to admit that this city is bipolar when it comes to weather.

“Okay, well, we should find Thor, now. The earlier the better.’’ Sam says.

“I texted Thor, he’s not answering.’’ Nat says, and puts her phone down.

“Okay, then let’s go look for him, maybe he’s back in the gymnasium.’’ Steve suggests as he heads outside the bushes.

Bucky shakes his head. “No! wait! We have classes!’’ However, they already left and are too far to hear him. He huffs grumpily and mumbles, “what is wrong with today?’’ then gets up after his —too energetic—friends.

Bucky steps outside, ‘their place.’ and he notices they’re all standing still, frozen and stunned, their jaws dropped and eyes narrowed slightly. Nat’s eyebrows knitted together. They look like they’re trying to comprehend something that’s happening in front of them. He doesn’t see what is happening though, until he steps beside them and it’s his time to get stunned. “What is that ...’’ He trails with a low voice.

It’s that stupid green dinosaur costume running like a mad man after a seemingly terrified Loki, a confused Thor shortly following behind and Erik and Aldrich and Brock (a very angry Brock) running and yelling something, Hela also behind, only she’s not running, just walking and it looks like she’s filming the obscene tragedy that is —whatever this is, with her phone.

“Is that ...’’ Clint whispers slowly, completely confused, his finger trailing the dinosaur that falls on it’s big head and Loki laughs at it like the evil has been defeated, then flinches like a scared cat when it moves and gets up.

The dinosaur doesn’t get fully up though, because a second later Brock grabs at his feet and the poor dinosaur falls back on it’s face and Loki is laughing so hard at whoever is in the costume, he almost falls on his face himself. Hela is still filming, and Thor tries to claw Brock away from the dinosaur—

“This such a weird day.’’ They hear beside them, when they look to see who said that, they find Tony, wearing sunglasses and drinking a capri sun.

“Where did you come from?’’ Sam asks.

Tony frowns, “What do you mean? I was here the whole time.’’ Then he goes back inside the building.

Sam huffs dramatically, “can someone explain what the fuck is going on today?!’’

——

✗ Brock Rumlow.

❂ Hela Odinson.

𓃠 Erik “killmonger” Stevens.

⌀ Aldrich “Al” Killian.

[rxsie-the-demon]

Brooklyn Baby | JJ  Maybank

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: heyo! so i haven’t written fanfic in FOREVER, and i never have on tumblr. so please be patient with me (haha). this is gonna be a series, basically everything that i want (dreamed?) about that happens in season 2 of outerbanks. i hope you enjoy!

chapter summary: Nikki Reddy is new to Outer Banks High School, aka ‘Kook Academy.’ After befriending Topper, Kelce, and Scarlet and getting a crash course on OBX culture, she meets the school outcast, Kiara Carrera

warning: swearing, mentions of drowning, shooting, death, smoking, etc. nothing super bad, just usual stuff from s1

word count: 2075

CHAPTER 1: Shades of Cool

I honestly had no idea what was going through my brother’s head when he decided to say, “Fuck it, let’s move to the Outer Banks.” In the middle of the school year. In the winter!

Like, he could’ve at LEAST waited ‘til the summer or spring. But nope, we’re going to the Graveyard of the Atlantic in fucking January.

JANUARY.

I can’t even wear cute sandals or shorts.

I sighed deeply and turned into the parking lot of Outer Banks High School, or as some kid I heard called it, Kook Academy. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean because no one at the school seemed crazy. But then again, this was my third day here. For all I know, these kids are batshit crazy.

I parked her white Lamborghini Aventador that I had gotten for my sixteenth birthday (just Sweet Sixteen things) and grabbed my pink Kanken backpack and flung it over my shoulder, brushing her shoulder lengthed hair out of my way. Stupid hair always getting in the way of everything. While I walked into the building, I pulled her schedule out of the pocket of the bag, not remembering where my AP US History class was.

“Nikki! Hi!” I heard a girl’s voice call out. Turning around, I was met with the energetic, and for a lack of a better word, preppy girl who was assigned to show me around the school two days ago. Scarlet, I remembered. The girl whose name matched her hair. Next to her, the tall, HOT, tan blonde friend wearing khakis and a sweater, and the other boy, also tall, equally hot, dark-skinned friend. Topper and Kelce, was it? I couldn’t remember. Or was it Topher, like Christopher? I knew a guy who went by Topher instead of Chris. He was a weird guy.

“Hey! Scarlet, right? And...Topper and Kelce?” I gave them a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I suck with names.”

“No, it’s all good, broski,” Topper smiled. “And you got them right if that makes it better.”

I sighed with relief. “Oh, good.”

“I LOVE your dress,” Scarlet cooed. I did too. A yellow plaid cami dress over a thin, white turtleneck sweater, complete with white converse and a simple silver necklace with an ‘Om’ symbol.

“Aw, thank you! I love your outfit, too! I could never rock a green tube top and jeans, you’re BLESSED.”

“We should start walking to class, guys,” Kelce interjected, “Otherwise we’re going to be late, and Miss Newbie here doesn’t need that on her third day of school.” Topper rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Facts, love. Let’s get a move on,”

As we turned to walk to class, we passed by this girl whose rather dull aura caught my attention. I only saw part of her face when we walked by her, but she had sunken eyes as if she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in who knows how long. Her frizzy brown hair was spilling out of the hood of her black sweatshirt, and her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her black sweatpants.

Honestly? I thought she looked like shit. But not in an insulting way, in an “Are you ok? Do you need a hug?” kind of way.

“Hey, Top,” I turned next to him to asked, “Who’s the girl in all black that looks like she’s gonna pass out?”

The three OBX OGs spun their heads around to catch a glimpse of who I was talking about, before letting out a laugh at her question. “Ah, that’s Kiara. She’s a freak.” Top responded, chuckling.

I smiled sarcastically, a little mad that they outright insulted someone like that, but couldn’t show it because, well, I had no other friends. “True, but uh, how so?”

“She’s friends with Pogues, that’s how.”

“...Pogues?”

“The poor kids on the island, from The Cut. They’re all freaks and whores, they run around, stealing stuff, trying to shoot people.” Scarlet chirped up, emphasizing the different words. I nodded slowly.

“Yeah! This one Pogue, John B, like, he stole my girlfriend, uh sorry, EX-girlfriend from me, and his buddy JJ tried to shoot me in the head!” Topper exclaimed. Nikki’s eyes went wide.

“Wait...hold up, wait, he- WHAT? WHY did he try to shoot you?”

“I got into a fight with John B.”

“OK BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’S GONNA- WHAT?”

“OK OK, I may have stuck his head underwater for a bit. I wasn’t gonna KILL him, I was just messing around, you know?” Topper looked at Kelce and Scarlet, who agreed with him, “Gotta show those dirty Pogues their place.”

I laughed dryly. What the flying fuck?

We stepped inside the classroom and took our seats, with me right behind Scarlet, and Topper and Kelce on either side of her.

Scarlett spun around. “Bro, our teacher isn’t even here!” She rolled her eyes and pulled out her Puff Bar from her bar and took a hit. She looked over at me and held it out for me. I shook my head no and turned to Topper. “Wait, Topper, that ex-girlfriend. Does she go here?”

Kelce and Scarlet immediately looked over at Topper, who looked like I just ran over his cat. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” I immediately apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked about-”

“No, no, it’s ok,” Top said awkwardly and coughed. He turned to face me with a sad smile. “Uh, remember how I mentioned she’d left me for some Pogue?”

“John something, yea?”

“Well, he killed her and himself, about six months ago.”

My jaw dropped. “What the fuck?! How are you so casual about- Shit I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, he shot the last sheriff, Sheriff Peterkins, who by all accounts was actually a sweetheart. Then he proceeds to convince Sarah, or maybe he blackmailed her, I don’t know, into riding his boat into a tropical depression. We found the wreckage of the boat a couple weeks later, but...their bodies were never found...”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah... That girl, Kiara, she was best friends with both John B and Sarah. John B was, by all accounts, trash, but he was still her friend, I guess.”

I nodded slowly, trying to process all the information Topper had just dumped onto me.

Despite my extremely wealthy upbringing, I was raised to not be classist. Or at least, I hope that’s how I turned out; Scarlet, Topper, and Kelce also don’t seem like the most honest people. But these...Pogues that they were talking about...don’t seem like the sweet people.

But something about that girl’s eyes...they seemed so sad. You don’t feel for someone like that unless they’re a good person. Right?

*****************************************************

Our teacher was droning off about...gosh who even fucking knows, I stopped paying attention the second he walked in.

I was on autopilot mode, taking down notes but not, like, actually paying attention. Instead, my mind was on these really cute boots I saw while online window shopping yesterday. I had bookmarked the link. Maybe I’d buy those?

“Nikhita!” My teacher called out. Hearing my first name, I snapped back to reality.

“Hi!” I smiled back. The class chuckled a bit.

Mr. Obi, a Nigerian man with the biggest glasses I’ve ever seen, rolled his eyes. “Hello. Did you hear what I said?”

“Not at all, sir, not at all.”

Topper and Scarlet were losing their minds; the former had to put his head down on his desk because he was laughing so hard.

He sighed and shoved his glasses up his nose. They slid down again. “I asked you what was the impact of the election of 1860?”

Shit shit shit shit shit

“Uh...wait, we want to war? Yea, that, like, started the Civil War.” I said, thankful I knew the answer. Mr. Obi was unimpressed.

“Mhm. Anyway, so...” and he continued to drone off.

Topper turned to me, smiling, and we both laughed.

As the lesson went on, I kept glancing at the clock. Ok, 45 minutes left, which means we’re halfway through class.

Mr. Obi kept going on and on about the Civil War, until, 15 minutes later, a little alarm went off on his phone. He turned and pressed the ‘Stop’ button.

“Right on time. Ok, so, I shortened today’s lesson because I wanted to talk about your project. Nikhita, you got here two days ago, the first day back from winter break, so you have no idea what I’m talking about, and I’m sure most of your classmates have forgotten. So I’ll refresh your memories: the second semester of U.S History is not going to the usual. You’re going to have a semester-long project that can be about anything. Literally anything, so long as it has something to do with either world history or current events. Yes, I know this is a United States history class, but we expanded this project to make it more interesting for you guys..”

Mr. Obi stopped for a second, looking at all of us. I nodded, partially because I felt bad because everyone was just giving him black stares, and because I found this project interesting.

“Now, in the past years, I left my classes to choose their partners or groups. But before the break, I’m sure you all remember the catastrophe that was your mini-project, yes?”

The class mumbled something incoherent, except for the boys in the back of the class who started cheering, which made our teacher smile.

“Well, because of that, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you. Well, more like the Pyramid of Doom.”

The Pyramid of Doom. This mini pyramid statue that has a little opening on the top, with all of our names in them.

Mr. Obi opened the Pyramid and began. I stayed quiet, listening to see who I was going to be paired with. Hopefully one of my three friends, or maybe one of the boys in the back. They’re cute.

When my name was called, I leaned forward to pay attention. The intensity, the suspense. Who was gonna be my partner?

Mr. Obi stuck his hand in the Pyramid and pulled out the next piece of paper. “Kiara Carrera.”

My eyes went wide.

******************************************************

“So, you excited to be partners with the freak for class,” Topper asked, taking a bite of his pasta. I laughed sarcastically.

Outer Banks High School has an A/B schedule, which means third block is two hours instead of 90 minutes, and everyone has a different lunch at a different time, depending on their class. On A days, I have lunch with Topper and some other kids. On B days, I’m by myself.

Today’s an A day.

“It’ll be fine. She doesn’t seem that bad.” I turned to my left to face him, popping a grape into my mouth. Yum. I love grapes.

“Yea, just wait ‘til you get to know her,” this boy across from us said. “She’s so weird. She hates being a Kook. Like, she never goes golfing.”

“Or shopping!” One girl piped up. “She just likes to sit at the beach and surf, and smoke weed and stuff.”

“Well, that sounds fun,” I shrugged. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love going to country clubs, and shopping, and going out to get breakfast, but I love chillin’ at the beach. Maybe she just has different interests?”

“Ok, that’s fine,” Topper stated, “but she’s friends with Pogues. And not just any Pogues - John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward.”

“Ok, but like, one of them’s dead. Look, I’m all for holding people accountable for their actions, but...bro, stop tryna cancel a dead dude,” I laughed. Topper punched my arm, and I winced jokingly.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, and I blushed a bit. Topper’s cute, definitely, and I like the attention, but I knew what was going on. Sarah Cameron, the dead girl, was this school’s Queen, with Topper as King. He’s looking for a replacement, not an actual girlfriend.

But...I liked the attention. I put my head on his shoulder.

“Hey, so, my friend Rafe’s 20th birthday party is this Friday. He’s a family friend and I would love it if you’d join me at the party.”

I turned to look at him, debating whether or not I wanted to go to some rando’s birthday party. But Topper knows him, and it seems like everyone else does, too.

“Sure,” I smiled. “Why not.

__________________________________

chapter two

[tinyanimelover]

Twisted Fates

Part Four

(Part One)

For other parts please see my masterlist ^.^

It was like a colorful tunnel that he was sent back through, red, blue and purple would zap away beside him at random moments. 

What the hell was happening? A tingling feeling shot through his body, making him shut his eyes as the jolts were faint and a tad bit painful. 

When he opened his eyes, they widened at the sudden bright light, squinting. 

"--ways, wanna hang out at the arcade after school?" He heard someone ask. 

It was a familiar voice, once he hadn't heard since he graduated from high school. He blinked a few times, able to focus his eyes and find a black haired male leaning on his desk. 

"..Ma..tsuo..." He let out softly. 

After graduation, his group of friends all split up, so he didn't hear from any of them afterwards. Matsuo, a male who dyed his hair black once he noticed the females loved that color on him..also a womanizer and heart breaker. 

He turned his head to find the other long lost friend, "Ryu". 

This particular friend, Grimmjow often wondered if he was even human. Ryu was a male who stayed calm even in the most desperate situations, such as when an aggressive class president asked him out and went ape shit when he said she was too manly. 

Despite his aloof exterior, Ryu liked all things cat-like. His hair was rather long and he kept his bangs pinned away with a hair-clip. 

"Ya in or what?" Someone else asked as he felt them slap their hand onto his shoulder, leaning in with narrowed eyes "I heard some of the girl's from the class next door are going too". 

Lastly, there was Tsueno, also know as Tsu. His hair was dyed as well, the top being a dark red and the bottom his natural hair color: black. 

Tsu was cold, hot headed and didn't exactly play well with others, kinda like Grimmjow. He had piercings on his ears, his lip and eyebrow and secretly had gotten a tattoo on his back last summer. He often was questioned if he was part of the Yakuza, his demeanor certainly matched it. He was easy to get along with once you got past his rebel look and he had woman all over him all the time, he often skips class to take a nap at one of the stairways where they usually hang out. 

"Tsu.." He let out, surprised to see the male as well. 

He was in complete shock that he was actually back in high school. Wait! He scanned the room, over all the males and females until he found her. 

Y/n. 

She had her nose buried in a book, despite how rowdy the classroom was with it getting ready for the exams. 

"Yo! Earth to Grimmjow!" Matsuo drawled "What's with you? You're out of it today". 

"Huh..." Grimmjow let out, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 In high school, he never thought about how much they meant to him even though at times they were a pain to be around. But he realized after graduating, his world revolved around them and high school. And if he'd taken it all more seriously, maybe he wouldn't have ended up at such a shit job and a shitty life while everyone else went on to actually do something with their lives. 

"Arcade or no?" Ryu asked "I saw a cute plushie there the other day, I'm going to get it even if I have to waste all my money". 

"If only you gave the girls the same amount of attention you give your cat obsession" Matsuo deadpanned "You'd have a girlfriend by now at least". 

"If she's cute enough like my Miku-chan, then maybe she can have me" Ryu said softly, closing his eyes "Miku-chan...I hope she's alright all alone at home...". 

"Damn cat should be grateful someone cares about her this much" Tsu muttered as he sat down in the desk behind Grimmjow "By the way, where were you yesterday? You missed it, Matsuo had a milkshake thrown at him by some girl". 

"Yesterday?" Grimmjow spoke, thinking about it. 

He could only remember what he did as his future self, not as his teenage self.

 "Uh..I passed out" he lied, ruffling his hair, his eyes still full of shock and surprise.

 His hair was a bit shorter yet wild, man...he really missed this. 

"So ya in or not?" Tsu asked. 

"Yeah" he said, eyes glancing back over at Y/n as the bell rang "I'll meet you guys there, I gotta do something".

 "Whatever, we'll go on ahead if you don't show up" Matsuo reminded as the three got up and fell into the horde of students leaving the classroom. 

He gathered his books and shoved them into his bag, looking back over at the girl, who hadn't even moved from her chair yet, seemingly engrossed in her book.

 What was she doing?

 He threw the bag over his shoulder, his black uniform jacket unzipped and revealed the white shirt underneath as he walked. Should he talk to her now? 

He had no idea when he was going to be sent back, so there was no time to waste right? 

Should he act nice? Or the usual so that she didn't think he was trying to prank her or something? 

He cleared his throat, standing in front of her desk. 

She looked up, eyes widened as her cheeks grew warm "G..Grimmjow...kun..?". 

He looked away, still unable to process that he was actually back here "...are you staying after school for a club or something?" He asked. 

"Well..it's my turn for clean up duties today..so yeah" she explained. 

"Hm?" He let out, looking over at the chart for duties, sure enough her name was on it for today as well as another "Isn't Sahara supposed to clean too?". 

She smiled nervously, lowering her gaze "It's okay..no one ever stays to help me anyways". 

He looked back down at her, what was he supposed to do now?

 Become her best friend? 

Didn't she have any friends? 

"Grimmjow-kun.." She let out softly "Are you okay?...".

 "I'm fine" he grunted "...you don't have any friends who'll stay behind and help?".

 "Not in this class, no" she smiled sheepishly "..please don't be offended but...why are you..talking to me?". 

His eyes widened, "..huh?". 

"You've never even noticed me before, and we've been in the same class since middle school...ah, is this about the other day? When I bumped into you and made you drop your bag? I'm said I was sorry...". 

"The fuck are you talking about?" He sighed, ruffling his hair once more "I don't even remember that..". 

“There it is..." She said with a sad smile, "If it's not your group, you don't bother to remember anything else...". 

Was that how he was? 

Ah, he remembered now. He really was this way back then, that's how he made it through school without ever knowing who Y/n was. He forgot all about her after the confession. How could he get close to her without her being suspicious? Wait, he recalled his teacher nagging him about getting a tutor to boost his grades. 

He scowled, "I remember whatever is important...whatever. What subject are you good at?". 

"Huh?" She said wide eyed "Umm...English I guess..why?".

 "I'll stay and help you, but you gotta hep me study for the exams" he said as he tossed his bag onto a nearby desk "Got it?". 

Eyes still wide, she watched as he took off his jacket, the warmth on her cheeks growing worse as she could see his muscled arm and back thanks to the thin fabric.

 "..yeah.." She buried her face in her hands "..okay".

 He spared a glance at her, thinking back to her dead body. 

He shook his head, that's what he was here for! 

To find the person who's going to kill her in the future!

 "Get your ass up and start cleaning!" He deadpanned, prompting her to jump up from the chair. 

"Y-yes sir!" She stammered out.

[lilyvandersteen]

Facing Your Dragons Chapter 7

Author’s Note: I know, I know... It's been ages!! The fact of the matter is, though, no matter how much I like writing this story, I have no real plot for it, and it's going to be shelved after this chapter until I figure out where to take it. I know that I want Sam to end up living at Blaine's house, and I know I want to keep the tone of the story light and upbeat and fluffy. Apart from that, it's all a big blank. Suggestions are more than welcome. Please help me shape this story, so that I can bring it to a satisfying conclusion.

Chapter 7: Back to School

When he felt his phone buzz with a text message notification, Blaine got off his motorbike and sighed.

Show time, I guess.

He’d arrived at school early, had parked his bike near the back entrance and had been waiting for Kurt and his girls to turn up.

From: Kurt

We’re under the bleachers.

Blaine made his way to the bleachers, his eyes darting left and right to check for jocks with a grudge, but there were none. Too early in the day, perhaps.

Kurt was leaning against a metal pole, his eyes half-mast and his lips curled into a lopsided smirk.

Blaine couldn’t help grinning, and Kurt beamed back and met him half-way for a kiss.

“He’s cute, Porcelain, I’ll give you that,” a smoky voice behind them drawled.

Blaine turned around to look at the three girls under the bleachers. One blonde and two brunettes, all sporting the same smirk he’d seen on Kurt’s face just now. Had to be a Skank thing.

“Nice butt,” said Brunette no. 1, peering at him from over her glasses.

The blonde gave Blaine a slow once-over and then an approving nod. “He clearly works out. Great biceps, and look at the thighs of him!”

Kurt huffed. “Stop objectifying my boyfriend.”

They quirked an eyebrow at him – eerie how in tune they were – and said in unison, “No.”

“You bring us a piece of man candy, we’re gonna look,” said Brunette no. 2.

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned to Blaine. “Okay, so… These are my girls: Lauren Zizes, Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray. Girls, this is Blaine Anderson, my boyfriend. Look all you like, but don’t touch. He’s mine.”

Santana snorted, and Lauren murmured something like, “Making no promises.”

Blaine smiled at the girls. “Nice to meet you.”

Quinn smiled back politely. “Pleased to meet you too.”

Santana snorted. “No need to dust off your country club manners for us.”

“At least I have manners,” Quinn bit back. “And they’ll help me get out of here after high school.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll go to an Ivy League school and become a big-shot lawyer and fight for women’s rights in America. Tell that to someone who’ll believe you. None of those snobby schools is gonna want a teen mom.”

Quinn’s spine stiffened. “That’s behind me.”

“It’s all in the records. Like your Lucy Caboosey period. It’s gonna come back to haunt you forever.”

“Fuck you!” Quinn snarled, and she stalked off in a huff.

Kurt swore under his breath and went after her, talking to her in a low but urgent voice, and eventually bringing her back.

Lauren grinned and seemed to gear up for another attack, but Kurt stopped her. “Don’t. Okay? I know you’ve got ammo enough to make all of us miserable, but let’s face it, everyone else here at school already has it out for us, so it would be nice if we Skanks could have each other’s backs. All right?”

Lauren shrugged. “Sure, ruin my fun.”

Kurt smirked at her. “Oh, I’ll give you plenty of fun. Blaine here knocked Karofsky into hospital, and his football buddies will no doubt try and get even with him. So girls, stick with us and show those jocks why nobody messes with us.”

The three girls grinned at Kurt, their good humour restored at once.

“I can defend myself,” Blaine grumbled.

Kurt rubbed his arm in comfort. “I know. But one more strike and you’re out. And I want you to stay here at McKinley. So let us deal with the blockheads. They won’t come anywhere near you with us around.”

Blaine gave in with bad grace, and went over his schedule for the Skanks’ benefit. He shared each of his classes with at least one of them, and promised to stick with them to keep safe.

He soon found out that Kurt was right. Everyone, even the jocks, gave the Skanks a wide berth.

“We can fleece them with our snark, kill them with our glares and hurt them in a million ways,” Kurt explained during AP French. “We’re not boxers, but Quinn and Santana and I used to be Cheerios, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of our high kicks. You really don’t. And Lauren is a champion wrestler.”

Blaine blinked at Kurt. “You were a what?”

“A Cheerio. That’s what the cheerleaders are called here.”

Blaine looked at his boyfriend, trying to picture him in tight spandex, showing off his acrobatic prowess. Nice!

“So why did you quit?”

Kurt shrugged. “Quinn got kicked off the squad when she got pregnant. Santana got kicked off when she got a boob job. At least, I think that was the reason. And for me, it was the community service that did me in. The Cheerios’ schedule is insane. They train for hours and hours every day, even on weekends. And Coach Sylvester didn’t like me skipping training on Wednesdays and Saturdays to go sing and tell stories at the home. At first, she cut me some slack, ‘cause her sister lived in a home too, and ‘cause she has a soft spot for me, and ‘cause I always trained at home by myself those days. But then my forty hours were up, and I just kept going to the home, though I didn’t have to anymore. And she told me I had to make a choice: Cheerios or volunteering. I bet she thought I’d snap out of it fast. But I’d already lost my friends Quinn and Santana on the squad, and volunteering made me happy. So I handed in my uniform and left.”

Blaine pouted, sad that Kurt no longer had the uniform, because oh, the possibilities…

« Monsieur Hummel et compagnon, comme vous semblez avoir une opinion très forte concernant Baudelaire, vous pouvez venir ici et nous en parler ! » (Mr. Hummel and company, seeing as you seem to hold a strong opinion on Baudelaire, you can come here and tell us about it!)

Blaine looked up at the teacher, aghast, but Kurt wasn’t intimidated in the least. He went to stand at the teacher’s desk, and gave a passionate speech about Baudelaire, and about his work being censured for the themes it contained. All in French. And he ended it by reciting what he said was his favourite Baudelaire poem.

Blaine’s mouth wasn’t the only one hanging open when Kurt stopped talking. Even the teacher needed a minute to regroup.

“Intéressant. Je vois que Baudelaire vous passionne. Et vous, Monsieur… ? » (Interesting. I can tell you’re passionate about Baudelaire. What about you, Mr. …?)

“Anderson,” Blaine hastened to supply. “Comme je viens de dire à Monsieur Hummel, je préfère l’œuvre de Verlaine. J’adore sa musicalité. » (As I just told Mr. Hummel, I prefer Verlaine’s work. I love his musicality.)

Just then, the bell rang, and Blaine felt his anxiety ebb away.

The teacher smiled at him. “Très bien. La semaine prochaine, vous pouvez nous en parler plus en détail. Cela compensera pour les devoirs que vous avez manqué les jours passés. » (Very well. Next week, you can tell us more about it. That will make up for the homework you didn’t make the previous days.)

Blaine nodded and jotted down the assignment before gathering his stuff and following Kurt out of the classroom.

“Your French is impressive,” he told Kurt, who grinned and told him he looked forward to hearing Blaine’s views on Verlaine.

In the cafeteria, Kurt steered Blaine towards what he said was the glee club table, and he introduced Blaine as his boyfriend, which made Blaine’s stomach swoop happily and made him beam like an idiot.

The only one at the table Blaine recognized was Rachel, who greeted him and asked if he was joining glee club.

“Oh… Uhm… I…”

“Your singing voice could use some work, but it’s got definite potential.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at Rachel and then turned to Blaine. “So that’s Rachel. You already know her from the home. Next to her is Finn, and then there’s Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Puck, Mike and Sam.”

“Sam’s the one from the superhero club?” Blaine whispered to Kurt, and Sam perked up when he heard the club mentioned.

“Yep, that’s me. Blonde Chameleon at your service! What’s your super alter ego?”

Lunch hour flew by as Blaine talked superheroes with Sam, and he had to be reminded by Kurt that the bell was about to ring, and that Quinn was waiting for him to go to AP Biology.

Blaine quickly exchanged numbers with Sam and then hurried away.

That afternoon, after a history class he shared with Lauren, Blaine was accosted by Rachel, who asked if he was going to the home.

“N-no. I’m scheduled tomorrow.”

“I see. Well, think about glee club, okay?”

Blaine nodded, and then his face brightened when he saw Kurt coming towards him, Sam by his side.

“Mind if Sam joins our cooking lesson today?” Kurt asked.

Blaine grinned and shook his head. “Awesome. Are your brother and sister coming too?”

Sam grinned back. “Yep. We were just about to go and pick them up from school.”

“Come to my place,” Blaine said. “So you can borrow that comic book I was talking about at lunch. And there’s a big garden to play in, and spare bedrooms for when your brother and sister get tired. Mom won’t mind a bit, I promise.”

Kurt frowned. “Dad won’t like that. He had to make his own dinner yesterday, and grumbled about it.”

“Well, today at yours and tomorrow at my place, then, maybe?” Blaine asked.

Kurt bit his lip. “Friday Night Dinner is sacred for Dad. Can’t skip it. But you and Sam can cook by yourselves. I’m thinking vegetable wok. I’ll write down the recipe for you.”

Blaine looked at Sam. “What do you say? Can we do this? Stevie and Stacie can help, too.”

“We can do this! I do have a shift delivering pizzas starting at eight p.m., though, so we’ll have to make it an early dinner. Today too.”

“No problem,” Kurt promised.

Stevie and Stacie proved to be just as outgoing and friendly as their older brother, and instantly enamoured with Blaine when he told them the story of Jack and the Beanstalk while they were cooking.

When Burt got home, he grumbled a bit about Kurt always bringing more people home, but soon enough, he was talking cars with Stevie and football with Sam and Blaine, with a wide smile. And when Stacie fell asleep on the sofa soon after dinner, Burt was the one to suggest Sam’s siblings could stay over and sleep in the spare bedroom.

“And you can kip on the sofa,” Burt said to Sam, “after your shift. Kurt will give you the spare key.”

Sam looked at his sleeping sister, bit his lip and nodded, walking out of the living room. “I need to call my mom.”

He came back a few minutes later and said it was okay. “I asked for tomorrow, too, Blaine, if you were serious about us staying over?”

Blaine beamed at Sam. “Totally! It’s going to be amazing!”

Sam carefully woke Stacie so she could get ready for bed, and Kurt and Blaine went to the attic to find her and Stevie some pajamas from when Kurt was little, sharing some sweet kisses while they were alone together.

As soon as the children were tucked in, Sam and Blaine left, and Blaine dropped Sam off at the pizza place. “See you tomorrow! Can you find someone to bring you back to Kurt’s?”

“Yep, no problem, Puck will come and pick me up. Thanks, man!”

K&B

On Friday morning, Blaine had his first altercation with a jock since he’d come back. He was securing his motorbike when something hit the back of his head. Hard.

A voice hissed, “You think you can put my best friend in hospital and then come back here and parade your nancy boy around school?”

Blaine turned around slowly, and saw a tall black teen glaring at him.

“Adams! No fighting or you’re off the team!”

The jock turned towards his coach and opened his mouth to retaliate, but she stopped him. “No, I don’t need to hear it. I know what happened to Karofsky, but I also know it was provoked. I know that under Coach Tenaka, you could do as you pleased, but I’m telling you now that I don’t condone fighting. Nor bullying. I don’t care how well you play. I WILL throw you off the team if you so much as touch this boy again. Leave him alone.”

The jock glared at her. “And let him get away with almost killing Dave?”

The coach sighed. “Don’t exaggerate. Karofsky was never in any danger of dying. And it was five against one, hardly a fair fight. Can’t fault the boy for wanting to knock you guys out as fast as he could. I would have done the same. Why were you picking on him anyway?”

That seemed to take the wind out of the jock’s sails, who shrunk and shrugged.

“Just for the fun of it, huh? Well, that stops now. I’m going to work you guys so hard that you won’t have any time or energy for shenanigans.”

The jock grumbled under his breath.

“How many games have you won so far, Adams?”

More grumbling.

“My goal is to make you winners. So you had better apply yourself, or I’ll find a replacement for you. Is that clear?”

The jock nodded.

“Now clear out and leave this boy alone.”

The coach stared the jock down until he turned and left, and then turned to Blaine. “I know the fight wasn’t your idea. And I promise I’ll keep an eye out for you, pumpkin.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

She smiled at Blaine. “Feel free to join our power training on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sometimes we do some boxing, and I think my boys can learn a thing or two from you.”

Blaine grimaced. “I’m not sure I want them to learn how to beat me up.”

“Adams and Karofsky tend to skip power training, pumpkin. They’re lazy. As soon as I find decent replacements for them, they’ll be out in a heartbeat.”

Blaine stared at her. “Won’t their parents make a fuss?”

“More likely they’ll be mad at their son. I’ve won the championship with every team I’ve ever coached. So if their child doesn’t make the team, they’ll blame him, not me.”

She winked at Blaine and walked off.

K&B

That afternoon, Sam and his siblings came to the home with Blaine, and together, they told the story of the Four Clever Brothers, who saved a princess from a dragon.

Like Dolores had said, Sam was great at doing voices, and the children listened as if spellbound, and cheered when after the story, Blaine announced they still had time for a few songs.

Sam played the guitar this time, and they all sang together until the hour was up.

At Blaine’s house, they did their homework before starting on dinner, Blaine pairing up with Stacie and Sam with Stevie to help them where needed.

When Pam came home, Blaine and Sam were wearing Star Wars costumes from Blaine’s chest of Halloween apparel, re-enacting a fight scene to the loud encouragement of Stevie and Stacie.

Pam quirked an eyebrow at Blaine and inquired, “New boyfriend already?”

“Mom!!”

She smirked when Blaine hotly denied having swapped boyfriends, but her eyes softened when he introduced his new friends. Clearly, she remembered what Kurt had told them about Sam’s family, which was probably why she didn’t say a word when Blaine mentioned all the Evans children were staying over.

The next morning, when Sam’s parents came to pick up their children and thanked Pam for her hospitality, she reiterated what she’d told Kurt. “You know, this house is WAY too big for just the two of us, and I’m having a hard time covering the rent on my own. So if you like, you and your family could move in here temporarily, until you get back on your feet. You could have the second and third floor, and share the kitchen and the living room with us.”

The Evanses looked taken aback, and Pam waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, this is sudden, and we don’t know each other yet, and I’m probably weird for mentioning this straight off the bat. I know, I know. I don’t expect you to decide right away, of course, but think about it? Our children get along well, and it would help out both our families.”

Mrs Evans nodded and thanked Pam again, with a smile that was a bit brittle around the edges, but genuine nonetheless.

Her sad eyes haunted Blaine the whole weekend.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Intertwined (Jack x Reader)

A/N: sup. Its me, kelly, back again with another one shot. Supernatural this time, which I  just picked up again after taking a long break after season 11. I just love jack so much he is a cutie and i needed a fluffy soulmate au with him since there arent enough. Thanks and enjoy reading!!!!

word count: 5, 500~

The bell was loud and overwhelming in my skull as I sat in the very back of the class next to the speaker. Not to mention the teacher yelled all his instructions and the students all screamed when the dismissal bell was sounded. It was the same every single day to the point where I never got a break from my migraines. Everyone was just so fucking loud.

Today was exceptional, though. I felt like screaming. My head ached so terribly, it felt like I was dying. Each and every little sound to ring out made me want to shout with pain, or slit my throat just to end it all. It got to the point where it felt like needles were stabbing into each inch of my skull.

During lunch, I went into the locker rooms and cried. I held my head in my hands in the echo of the room and sobbed for no one but me to hear. 

The pain. It was too much. I’m not weak. I deal with these on a daily basis, but...this was too much for anyone, not even the strongest human alive.

By fourth period I was convinced my head was about to explode. My heart beat rapidly against my ribcage, so loudly that I swore the kid beside me could hear. He kept glancing over at me worriedly, and the teacher even asked if I was doing okay; if I needed to get a drink from the water fountain.

Turns out I had sweat running down my forehead like the falls.

 I just stayed in class, wanting to get through the day. I couldn’t go home early. I didn’t have a car, number one; secondly, my father would have my head on a stick for leaving school. He didn’t believe in my migraines, or any of my issues at all. He was the “suck it up” kinda man that I always despised.

So I did. I bucked up throughout the day until the last bell. I sat in the room until everyone had left, to make sure I didn’t get any unwanted attention. The teacher even left before me, thinking that my head on the desk indicated I’d fallen asleep. Frankly, he didn’t care if I caught my bus or not. Bastard.

I caught my breath as I stood up, or I tried to. It got caught in my throat. I choked on air, clutching at my neck. Was I going into anaphylactic shock, I thought miserably. I fell to the ground with a thud, my head knocking painfully against the metal chair leg. The ground was cold against my skin, and hard on my burning temples.

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t make a sound; my throat was shut. All I could do was, what I assumed, die. I was in agony and dying alone in a cold, dusty history classroom.

The room faded to black around me. There was nothing to be done now. I was a goner.

_________________________________________

“Are you sure she’s alive?” a deep, rough voice asked through my blurred thoughts. I couldn’t move or see, but I heard it.

“Yes, Dean. She has a pulse,” another man sighed deeply, and I felt he was close. Heat from someone was radiating around me, and I was scared. These men, they didn’t sound professional, like doctors. Nor did this area smell clean, like a hospital. It was musty and antique, and their voices were coarse.

But it was so warm. Wherever I was was comforting and warm. There was also something draped over me, soft and furry. I prayed it was a blanket.

The best I could do was a low croak like noise from my lips, and a flicker of my lashes. “Hello?” I rasped, my eyes flashing open for a moment using most of my strength. I caught sight, for the shortest second of a very attractive man standing to my side, staring down at me with what I felt were familiar green eyes.

But I noticed one thing. My headache was dull. It was barely even there. I could have cried in relief. After weeks of relentless pain, it was nearly gone.

Something happened. Something big had to have changed in me. Or I was on strong drugs. I couldn’t be sure at the moment.

“Hey,” the second voice called, a bit more concerned than anything. “ Hey, she’s waking up.”

I pushed myself up onto my elbow and rubbed my eyes with my other hand, wiping away the mucky crust along my lashes keeping them shut. Slowly, I cracked my eyes open to see that I was indeed in a place far from a hospital, surrounded by three men who strongly differed doctors at all.

Two big men in flannel surrounded my bedside while a dark haired man in a suspicious coat stood at the foot of my bed, his eyes staring right into mine, as if he was seeing into my mind and soul. I already hated it, the mind digging they seemed to be doing without even muttering a word to me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

What a starting question, I scoffed. I glared up at the man with the green eyes, whom I still considered very familiar. In fact, this entire thing seemed like a vague memory. I’d never met these men, I knew that for a fact...but I remembered them. I know that makes no sense, and I sound insane, but I just...I’ve seen them before and heard their voices and I’ve seen this room. Dammit.

“I’m Y/N?”

“No, I asked who the-”

“Dean, that is enough. She won’t tell you anything if you just scream at her,” the man at the edge of the bed said. He seemed wise, but his voice was so low and gruff, like a chainsmoker’s. Now, I knew for a fact I’d listened to his voice time and time again, but I couldn’t fucking place it. It was on the tip of my tongue. Hearing him speak again only heightened that sense, “She appears to only be a child,” he spoke softly.

The man by my side, with longer brown hair nodded and placed a hand near mine, his huge goliath hands which I just realised could easily surround my neck and snap it if he so chose to. I was vulnerable, and these men were terrifyingly large and intimidating, with their strong voices and their big hands and broad shoulders.

I was in deep shit now. Dammit, Y/N.

“We just need to know who you are. Tell us and we won’t hurt you...Y/N.”

I was starting to like this kinder one, the one with the big hands and the long hair. He seemed smart, reasonable in a way. The other one was irrational and loud, so abrupt that it scared me. This whole situation wasn’t a bit comforting, but he was a big fear factor.

My eyes scanned over all of them and down to my body. I was nestled in a blanket, a big fluffy brown one which was no doubt conserving all my body heat. My bangs stuck to my forehead, sweat drenching them, so I quickly took my hand and swiped them back behind my ear to rid the sticky feeling.

When I was done looking around, my eyes slid to my lap. “I-I don’t know what to say. I’m just Y/N L/N, I swear.”

“Fine. What are you?” the rude man piped up this time, seemingly done with my shit even though I’d only been awake for like, a minute tops.

I gaped at him like a fish out of water. What the hell did that mean? “H-Human... Is there anything else?” I whimpered. My ears were burning red under their assuming glares. What if they thought I was lying? Would they torture me? I felt my heart race and my breaths get caught in my throat.

Don’t do this now, Y/N. Hyperventilating will only make me seem guilty of something.

“Listen, somehow you got into this bunker, which we thought was impossible. You being human doesn’t explain much.”

“I don’t know how I got here at all. I kinda assumed when I woke up and saw strange men that I was kidnapped because the last thing I remember is passing out on the floor of my AP World class and just...I-I...I’m sorry-” I choked on my last few words, my rambling having come to a quick, sad stop. I pressed one of my hands to my lips to keep in my sobs. I didn’t want them to get angry at me.

I was just so terrified. I was in a foreign place being threatened for the first time in my life. I couldn’t do a thing about the upcoming tears to rush over.

Then, to make matters worse, water was splashed in my face.

“Dean, seriously, what the hell? She’s really scared, dude!”

“Well, we know she’s not a demon.”

“DEMON?” I cried loudly, my eyes going as wide as saucers. I pressed my face into both of my palms and practically screamed into them. Was this what hell was? Being kidnapped and accused by these men, and then mention of real demons?

A gentle hand placed itself on my shoulder, and I peered over through my fingers to see the man at the edge of my bed earlier, the one in the sketchy coat. “Please, stop crying. As long as you explain to us everything in detail, we can make sure you are safe. Even so, we can’t hurt you. You obviously have some ability that even you may be unaware of,” he said calmly.

I bit my lip, small whines leaving through my teeth. Tears still fell down my face, but I felt soothed by his presence by my side. There was something different about him. At this point, I had forgotten about my aching migraine and was completely focused on him. His eyes had stolen every bit of my attention.

“I’m just a senior in high school. The last thing I remember is having a really bad migraine and my throat closing up. I think I hit my head on my chair when I fell on the floor. After that, it just all turned to black. I-I swear to you, I was in my history class before this,” I took a deep breath. “I really have no idea where I am or who you guys are. I’d literally rather be anywhere then here right now, trust me. I’m not a threat. If anything, I’m scared he’s going to kill me.”

I nudged my head in the direction of the aggressor at hand. He growled, his arms crossed over his chest after the other man had scolded him.

“This is perplexing, to say the least.”

The kind one scanned over my quivering form once again, his puppy like eyes showing only sympathy for my case. “Could she possibly be under a spell? Rowena and her coven is growing,” he suggested. Now he was talking about spells and covens. This couldn’t be real, I thought to myself over and over. I had to be in a dream, or going insane. This had to be it. Maybe I was dead. Maybe that’s what this was about.

“It could be why, but that doesn’t explain why Rowena would want to send a random teenage girl into our bunker. She’s obviously weak and harmless.”

“Looks are deceiving. Her soul is incredibly strong. Although it is not big, it is very intense and bright,” trench coat man sighed, standing as stiff as before. “Her soul is almost acting as if its looking for something.”

I took a breath, one brave deep breath before speaking. “If I’m going to be here, can you at least tell me who you are. You all are shady enough, talking about spells and demons, you know,” I muttered, fiddling with my hands in my lap, tugging on the fur of the blanket.

“Should we really-”

“I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean,” he pointed to green eyes with a stressed smile. “That is our friend Castiel. This may come off as strange to you, but we are hunters. Of the supernatural.”

And suddenly, it all clicked in my head.

Sam and Dean. Castiel. Hunters. Demons. All of it. It made sense. Even the fucking flannel shirts all over the place.

Supernatural.

I placed a hand over my eyes and groaned loudly. “This can’t be happening to me. No fucking way. No way. Nope. God, no.” Supernatural was a tv show that I watched in middle school. That was it. There was nothing real about it. These guys were actors. I stopped watching it around season 10, and there was no fucking way these dudes magically became real.

“What’s wrong? Did you remember something?”

I wouldn’t look at them. It would only prove to me how much they really looked like the characters. Dean Winchester with those intense green eyes and strong jaw. His brother Sam, tall and handsome with that long hair and soft smile. And my favorite character, Castiel, the not-so-perfect angel with piercing blue eyes and a strange voice.

With a huff, I mumbled, “It’s just, you guys can’t be real. I have to be dreaming.”

“Can’t be real?”

“Yeah. What’s that supposed to mean, kid?” Dean asked me. I felt like my chest would explode at any moment from the pressure. The Dean Winchester was speaking to me, directly, calling me ‘kid’ and everything.

Finally, after a moment of deliberation, I dropped my hand from my eyes and peered at the men. They were exactly how I remembered them on late night television, watching reruns with my mother. “I’m not sure how this works, but well, you guys, in my world, are from a tv show. It’s called Supernatural, and it’s about your lives and I know everything about you.”

“Bizarro world?! You’ve got to be kidding me! How did she end up here?”

Before anyone could start arguing over me, a soft voice broke the silence. It was not my own, instead, it was from the doorway. We all glanced over to be met with the curious eyes of a boy around my age. He had soft brown locks and dark green eyes, and they stared right into mine.

My headache was gone. I barely noticed its final passing but it had dissipated in less than a second. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I was caught in a net by this boy. I couldn’t bring my eyes away from his, nor did he seem to want to look away from mine.

“I just wanted to know if the girl was doing okay…” he said softly as he entered the room. Something was beckoning him to come closer. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel him beneath my fingertips and in my palms. He was handsome, but more importantly, he made my chest feel lighter than air and my mind to drift into utter peace. I felt enlightened, in a way.

“She’s fine, but you really shouldn’t be in here. It’s not safe,” Sam told him, only to be shot down.

Castiel held up a firm hand. His voice was quiet, but I could hear him. He was very serious. “It’s fine, Sam. Let him come closer.” And so the boy did. He drifted through the room until he stood at the very foot of my bed. He was even more beautiful up close, and his presence felt like pure heaven.

“Hi, I’m Jack.”

“Y/N.”

And just like that, I was sucked in completely. There was no getting myself out of his vortex that absorbed me. It was too strong. I felt connected to him, and not in the childish way. Not in a humanly way. It was a foreign type of bond formed so purely, through words and shared eye contact.

Castiel’s eyes flicked between us, almost in a calculating way. He was analyzing something. I felt subconsciously that I should be asking him if something was wrong, yet I couldn’t tear myself away from this boy yet. Jack, a character I had yet to see on the show; he had such enchanting eyes. I harshly bit my lip and tore away my stare, shutting my eyes tightly.

Get a grip, Y/N.

I turned to the angel at my side. “What are you thinking? What’s wrong? Do you know why I feel like...well, this?” I waved my hand, as if to show what I meant. I was sure he knew what I was saying. He had that look on his face, the one he got when he was thinking but frustrated.

“It’s your souls. They are intertwined.”

“Excuse me?”

“You and Jack. The reason why you were brought to our universe is because you are, as you humans would call it, ‘Soulmates’,” the man put it as if it were simple. We were soulmates, apparently. I didn’t even know this kid. I was only on season 10 for fuck’s sake. How the hell was I supposed to retain this information?

With my head now hung, I prayed, my lips barely mouthing the words. “Oh, sweet Jesus, help me.”

“Wait, wait. Explain it to me again. They’re soulmates? Those exist?” Sam asked, knocking me out of my thoughts. 

He sighed, but nodded. “Not everyone has a soulmate, in fact, they are incredibly rare. It has only happened about ten times in human history, counting this one,” he told us. “It can only happen when a single soul is broken during creation, split between two individuals.”

“So, he reason she has only a fragment of a soul is because Jack has the rest of it?” Dean confirmed.

“Exactly, and the only way the soul can be satisfied is by finding its other piece. Despite being born into different universes, Y/N and Jack have been made of the same soul, an incredibly powerful one,” Castiel finished, his eyes sliding once again between us young people in the room.

Sam let out a hum of approval. “Naturally, the universe has its way of restoring the natural order of things.”

“So, this girl, she’s a normal chick with half a soul.”

“More like an eighth of a soul, but yes.”

That was news to me. I couldn’t bit my tongue any longer. This craziness that these men were spouting was only making me upset and for my stomach to turn. And finding out I barely had a soul was the last straw for keeping my mouth shut. I screeched, “Only an eighth?! You’re telling me I’ve been practically soulless for my entire life?!”

“Yes.”

The boy at my foot smiled shyly, his lips turned up just slightly like he barely knew how to. He spoke in a gentle voice, one that was calm and full of hope. “But it’s okay, right? I can share mine with her now? Since we found each other?” For a moment, I was almost taken completely by his words. Fortunately, I still wore my head.

I flailed my hands in the air wildly, and cried to him, “Why are you so accepting of this, dude? You don’t even know me!”

Again, he smiled, although I could tell he wanted to let it fall. “I know we are meant to be together, and that is really all that matters. I’ve only just met you, but I can feel a connection.”

My heart nearly melted at his kind words, his loving and caring words. No one had ever said something to me that was so meaningful, so innocent either. I wanted to accept him into my heart right then and never let go, but I had to be wary. I was new to this world, that is, if I wasn’t dreaming. Anything could be a threat to me.

“So what does this mean? What do we do with her?”

“Y/N, would you like to stay here with us for now, until we figure this whole thing out?” Sam asked me kindly, unlike his brother, who I could tell was not trusting in the slightest. Not only did I get vibes that he disliked me, but Jack as well. It was a mutual resentment toward both of us.

I sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

No. Of course not.

__________________________________

After I arrived, I soon realized I would stay here much longer than anyone expected. It took months for anyone to actually approach me and say I wouldn’t be sent back to my universe. They expected me to cry. To go into my room and sob about missing my home and my family and all my friends.

But I was glad. I was happy to never have to return back to that hell hole. My father hated me and I had a disturbing lack of friends. The only thing I would miss was my phone, but luckily I was transferred through universes with that stuffed in my jacket pocket.

Basically, I wasn’t bothered a bit that I was never going back to the normal world.

Castiel took me out to buy clothing from the thrift store with what little money that could be spared. I bought things for my bathroom that smelt fresh and clean amongst the intense testosterone overload in the bunker. I painted the walls of my bedroom a dark blue, hung up posters, and got a new comforter with a nice design on it. I fluffed my pillows up and sewed nice cases for them. I even got the chance to fill up my own personal fiction library on the shelf above my bed.

I liked my life in the bunker, after I got adjusted to living with the boys. Sam was easy to be around. As long as you didn’t bother him when he was working out or studying, then you were alright. Castiel thought I was intriguing and often helped me with all my issues, whether they be emotional or even girl ones, which he was clueless about. Dean was harsh and judgemental at first, but after a few weeks of worming my way into his head and soon his heart, I had him wrapped around my little finger.

He even took me out one day to drive Baby, which I knew he didn’t just let anyone do. We had the windows down and the music blaring as I drove down a dirt road with him, laughing and slurping up sugary drinks. He was like the older brother I never had and always wanted.

Jack was different. I felt sick around him, in the best possible way. He made my cheeks turn red from how awkward and cute he was. I adored his soft smiles from across the room. I loved sitting in his room watching movies on late nights when we couldn’t sleep. I liked bringing him to my favorite restaurants and sharing meals, or drinking milkshakes together with two straws like corny couples from old movies.

Except, we weren’t a couple. After a month of being at the bunker,  I told Jack that I thought we should just be close friends. Companions, if you want. It was for the best. There was too much drama going on, and getting into a relationship in another universe just felt so overwhelming.

He said it was fine, so I had no idea how it really affected him. I didn’t know, but he was hurting inside.

Our souls craved each other. It was that simple. We were meant to be, but it wasn’t the right time, I decided.

So selfish.

And then I caught myself falling in love with him. Sure, I was young. Barely eighteen years old and just out of high school, but I knew what love was. I could feel it each time my fingers skimmed his, each time he came home from a hunt and I held his face in my palms to gaze in his broken eyes, and each time we lay beside each other in bed watching a movie and I thought of how easily I could kiss him.

I thought about loving him more often than not. But it could never be, I swore to myself. I convinced myself. They say if you repeat something enough times, you begin to believe it.

I sat in the bunker map room at the table, munching on some chips while the boys were off doing whatever. I think they were out of town for a mission, but I didn’t ask where they went as said goodbye. They would be back in a couple days. Yeah, right. Try a week. They always get off track, those damn hunters.

I sipped at my tea, taking a long breath when the warm liquid slid down my throat. It was nice, being at peace like this. Living with people who cared for me, who protected me. Sure, this life wasn’t safe, but it was just comfortable enough for me.

Footsteps creaked the floorboards behind me, and I didn’t turn around. Instead, I waited for his lovely voice to ring out in my ears.

“Y/N. What are you doing up this late?” Jack asked me, coming up to my chair and pressing his hands to the back of it, right above my shoulders. I only smiled and turned to look up at him, my eyes no doubt sparkling. I was so happy, and seeing Jack made everything so much better. He skipped a lot of missions nowadays for safety reasons, and I couldn’t be happier.

That meant he could be with me more.

“I don’t know. Just living a little.”

“Living? Aren’t you always alive-”

I laughed and shook my head at his naivety. Gently, I corrected him, “I mean, I’m doing something different for a change. Drinking tea at midnight and eating junk food in the living room where Sam would normally kick my ass.”

He nodded, as if understanding only partially. So, with that being on his mind, I stood from my spot and whisked myself off to the bookshelf where the old record player also happened to rest. My soft fingers slid along the dusty box as my eyes scanned the thick pile of albums. I spied through them for minute before pulling out my favorite, one that I believed would light up the night.

As the music began to play, I turned around and swung my hair over my shoulder playfully, sending my best friend a flirty smile. We’re just friends, I reminded myself. Only sometimes, you have to live a little; and if that means to flirt with the boy you’re miserably in love with, then so fucking be it.

I swung my hips from side to side as I approached him, my eyes tearing him apart dangerously. He leaned back, not exactly sure what to expect out of his situation. He definitely wasn’t expecting for me to snatch up his hands in my smaller ones and clutch them tightly.

“Y/N-”

“Dance with me. Come on, it’ll be fun,” I giggled, already swinging our arms back and forth. He gave me one more wary look before letting out a sigh and smiling. This made my entire face light up with pure joy. Just seeing him happy and relaxed like this made my entire day, maybe even my whole week. I loved him that much.

I swung his arms back and forth to the beat, slowly pulling him to the center of the empty space so we could move around a bit more. My feet slid along the floor, my fluffy socks helping quite a bit with that.

Eventually, I got lost in the music, in the dance itself. The album kept playing although songs has changed, and we never paused. I laughed along with him as we swung around. I even let go of one of his hands to pull him into an awkward twirl, and an even more ungraceful spin out.

His fingers felt right, curled in mine, locked in that tight embrace that was so familiar yet so forbidden in my eyes. I never wanted the songs to end, just so I could keep him in my grasp.

I felt comfortable until certain words spilled from his lips in the rush of emotions we felt. “Y/N, you look so beautiful when you laugh,” Jack confessed, his cheeks bright red from laughing and moving around for so long. I think, in that moment of bliss, we both forget who we were. What we were supposed to be.

Friends.

I pulled my hands out of his abruptly. “Jack, you know, I-”

“I know.”

And then it was quiet. The needle had run off the record and the album stopped playing. We were officially alone, and it felt painful, like I was being restrained. Was I torturing myself? Possibly. Was my soul aching like a bitch? Definitely.

Who knew loving someone could hurt so fucking bad?

“Castiel and Dean, they always tell me that you will change your mind. That you will come to accept that we are soulmates. You just keep sending me these “mixed signals”. That’s what Dean calls them,” he paused. I’d never heard him be so direct with his emotions, well, the ones he held for me. I had no idea that Castiel and Dean were talking about me to Jack behind my back. I wasn’t angry, just confused.

“I want to know how you feel about me, Y/N.”

I felt my heart drop in my chest. I didn’t think he would be so bold as to ask me that. I hadn’t exactly planned an answer in preparation. I hadn’t prepared a lie.

Even back home, I was never a good liar.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about you.”

He was quick to argue, hurt crossing his features. “Yes, it does. It matters to me.” I hated that look across his face, the one of pain and loss, rejection. He didn’t deserve that. Jack Kline was too good for me. Too good to belong with someone like me, a normal person with flaws and no special powers.

But, humans are so selfish.

“And if what I said changed everything between us, would you be so desperate to know?”

“Yes, because then I wouldn’t be so confused when you’re with me,” he replied, almost like a child. He made everything seem so simple. Maybe I was overthinking this.

Fuck it.

“Jack, you’re my soulmate. Of course I love you. We’re both young and we’ve never been in love before, but this is real and it’s so intense and dangerous. We could get hurt. I just...I’m so selfish, and I couldn’t keep myself from falling in love with you.”

His smile grew, despite all the negative things I’d said. He heard what he wanted to. He smiled down at me, his hands going to rest on my upper arms. They were so warm, so comforting. I wanted to just collapse in his arms and never get back up. “Castiel said you felt that way,” he chuckled, flashing a bright toothy grin.

My head fell to stare at the floorboards. A grumble escaped my pouting lips, “Dammit, Cas.”

“It’s okay. Dean told me that if you did say that, that I was supposed to do this,” he stated vaguely. I only had enough time to blink before he had leaned down to press his lips to my own. I shut my eyes tight to avoid looking awkwardly into his open ones. He didn’t move. Just stood there against me with his eyes open.

I pushed him off and bit my lip. Admittedly, I wanted to kiss him. Yet, it was obvious Jack had zero experience with kissing.

“Does that mean you love me too?” I questioned.

“Of course. I thought I made it obvious.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Maybe being happier was better than being stable. Risks are meant to be taken after all. Swiftly, I grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the hallway behind me. He followed blindly and before he could open his mouth to ask, I answered.

“We’re going to my room so I can teach you how to kiss me.” He nodded brightly, smile wider than ever. I really loved him, and he really loved me. Our souls intertwined with beautiful flourishing hearts to match.

[fictional-affliction]

Under Pressure, Chapter 1

Description: Courtney has always had a way of dealing with her stress, but with high school and her developing relationship with Duncan, can she really handle it all?

Word Count: 1,609

Rating: T (for now...)

A/N: For a while I wanted to write a fic about how Courtney hits herself. I even wrote a small drabble about it, well that drabble turned into a story. The beginning will be familiar to you if you read said dribble. Also, this story follows the Total Dramarama universe, but they're all in high school now. There are serious themes in this story, but it’s written by me so THERE’S A LOT OF DUNCNEY.

Here we go.

Courtney glared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. The familiar sting of tears burned her eyes and she gripped the bathroom sink hard to stop them. She grit her teeth as she tried to stifle her emotions but feelings of disappointment and self loathing consumed her.

“You’re pathetic.” She whispered scathingly to herself for almost crying. There was no one to blame but herself and she shouldn’t be crying. Crying meant she was weak.

She had gotten a B- on her AP chemistry exam, practically a C. An exam that counted for fifteen percent of her grade. There was so much riding on junior year and she was ruining it. She had a lot on her plate. She was class president, took every honors and AP class she could, ran Model UN, among other clubs, and did volunteer work. She should be able to handle all of it. Her grades and promise of a bright future felt like they were slipping through her fingers.

Courtney released the sink and raised her right hand so that it too was reflected in the mirror.

“You deserve this.” She scolded before slapping herself across her face. Her head turned from the assault and she faced the mirror again, still furious with her incompetence.

She needed to study harder, be more diligent. Maybe if Courtney was lucky her chemistry teacher would let her do extra credit.

Again her palm collided with her cheek, harder this time. An angry, hot handprint was left behind.

Courtney winced but welcomed the pain, then her left hand repeated the action on her other cheek. Courtney panted from the impact but was satisfied that she had punished herself enough for tonight.

She stumbled as she made her way back to her room where she fell onto her bed. Her face and hands stung, but she fell into a fitful sleep.

In the morning she would seek out her professor before classes and do what it took to fix this.

Whatever it took.

-

She woke up startled by the sound of her bedroom window opening. Courtney jumped out of bed ready to spring into action with the skills she had learned in that women’s self defense class she’d taken; and turned on the lamp on her bedside table.

“Chill Princess, it’s just me.” Duncan said with his hands up before she could strike. Courtney caught her breath, her heart rate slowing down.

“Duncan! What are you doing here?”

“I’m back from Juvie.”

“Obviously. I mean what are you doing in my room at,” she glanced at her clock, “ six in the morning?”

“Thought I’d drop in and see how much you missed me.” He’d gotten close to her and grinned. Courtney narrowed her eyes, not impressed with his cocky attitude, she was used to it after all these years but still annoyed nonetheless. Duncan looked down at her tank top and short shorts.

“Nice pajamas by the way.” Courtney crosses her arms over her chest and ignored his lingering gaze and how it made her face flush.

“Well... I didn’t miss you.” Courtney insisted while looking away from him and how he had invaded her personal space. She had missed him, she’d missed him a lot, but she’d never tell him that. In fact, she was angry at him for getting sent to Juvie again in the first place.

“Princessssss...” He singsonged and leaned in.

“What?”

“Say it.

“Say what.”

“Say you missed me-” Duncan paused when he noticed the purple bruise marring her face. He remained silent as he brushed his thumb against her cheek. She involuntarily flinched.

“What happened?” He asked in a voice so gentle, that it left Courtney caught off guard and unable to process what he had asked her. It wasn’t until he brushed his thumb over her cheek again that her stomach dropped and she remembered what she had done last night.

“Nothing.” She got around him and went over to her closet, picking out an outfit for school.

“Don’t lie to me Courtney.” She ignored him and his use of her actual name and escaped to the bathroom. She quickly looked in the mirror and saw that she did indeed have a bruise on her right cheek. It was nothing that some makeup couldn’t hide.

She turned on the shower and reached to take off her top when she jumped at Duncan’s reappearance.

“Go away you perv!” Duncan rolled his eyes.

“As much as it’s one of my biggest fantasies to see you naked, this isn’t about that. Courtney huffed and put her hands on her hips, daring him to say what she knew he would.

“You’re doing it again.” He accused.

“It’s none of your business.” Just then the door connecting to her sister’s room opened.

“Why are you so loud so early.” Cate complained sleepily with her eyes closed. Her dark brown hair in her face.

“You can go back to bed for fifteen minutes Cate.” Cate leaned against the doorframe half awake; when she opened her eyes she noticed Duncan.

“Hey! You’re back from Juvie!” She exclaimed and went to hug him. He messed with her hair affectionately.

“How’s my favorite little sister?” Courtney cut in before Cate could answer, frustrated with both of them.

“Can you two get out of the bathroom so that I can take a shower! We need to leave early so that I can talk to Mrs. Hanover.”

“I’m not stopping you.” Duncan winked.

“Can you at least wait until I leave to flirt with her?” Cate grimaced.

“Can you both leave so that I can take a freaking shower!” Courtney yelled and pushed both of them in to Cate’s room and slammed the door in their faces.

“The pole is extra far up her ass this morning.” Duncan commented.

“You have no idea.”  

-

They pulled into the school parking lot at a rough stop that jolted the passengers in the car.

“Are you trying to kill us?” Cate shrieked and clutched the handle on the roof of the car.

“Seriously Princess, I’m all about taking risks but you completely blew through that last stop sign.” Courtney ignored them and ripped off her seat belt.

“No one was coming, and if you two weren’t dragging your feet then we would have been here ten minutes ago like I wanted!”

“What is your deal? You’re more uptight than normal.”

“I’m telling you, she’s been insufferable, probably because you were gone for so long ” Cate added smugly, taunting her big sister. Courtney scowled at Cate and grabbed her backpack. She reached for the door but Duncan leaned over her and held the door closed.

“You go ahead, I gotta talk to Princess.” Duncan directed to Cate in the backseat. Cate looked back in speculation but left to get to her Freshman Health class.

“I don’t have time for this Duncan!” Courtney squirmed and tried to get out of the car. There was only five minutes until the first bell and she still had to see her chemistry teacher.

“You’re gonna make time.” Duncan didn’t budge. Courtney huffed and ran her hands through her hair.

“Fine! What is it that you want from me?” The sooner she appeased him the sooner she could reach her destination.

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”  Duncan said sternly and waited expectantly for her to answer him.

“You look like your dad when you talk like that.” Duncan immediately recoiled and had to check his reflection in the side mirror. Courtney took her opening and dashed out of the car.

Once Duncan caught onto her deceit he darted after Courtney as she sped into the building.

“That was low.” He kept up with her as she made sharp turns down the hallway. She was fast for someone who always wore heels.

“How about you show up to class early? Or I don’t know, actually go to class for once!” Courtney felt some relief when she finally got to the classroom she had sought out. As she was walking through the open doorway, Duncan yanked her back by the hand, and pulled her chest  flush against his.

“Don’t.” Duncan stopped her attempt to lash out again. Courtney saw the seriousness in his eyes, he wasn’t playing around.

“Can we talk about this later?”She softened her voice and let the tension in her body drop but he stayed unmoved.

“Please...” She added, knowing she wouldn’t be off the hook yet but hoped he would hear her desperation. He held her stare for a few moments then nodded.

Just then Mrs. Hanover came through the door, almost bumping into the pair of teens.

“Mrs. Hanover I was just coming into the speak with you.” Courtney started.

“I’m sure this is concerning your test grade.” The teacher wasn’t surprised to see Courtney and had anticipated that she would be coming to find a way to raise her grade.

“Yes, is there anyway that I can retake the test or do any extra credit? I really don’t want one test to reflect poorly on my grade.” The older woman took in the sight of the delinquent standing next to the star pupil. It was a mystery to her how those two were friends, but it did present an opportunity for Courtney to make up her grade and to make her life a little easier.

“I can give you the extra credit,” Courtney sighed in relief and already felt that her day was turning around “but you have to catch Duncan up on the material he’s missed in his class.” Courtney felt all the tension seize her muscles again. She was so screwed.

[sweetdeathwrites]

You Are The Right One

Pairing: Gokudera Hayato/Reader

Summary: Gokudera knows what you mean to him. But what does he mean to you? 

Warnings: fluff, romance, some sexual situations/suggestiveness (i.e. Gokudera is thirsty), angst

Word Count: 6,929

(Songfic to You Are The Right One by Sports)

(re/cross?posted from my AO3 and Luna! Original A/N below)

(Hi!! I know I've been gone a long time and I'm SORRY!! I've been going through a lot of stuff (I've been in 3 productions since the last time I've posted .. i think it's only 3.. but I've been a NAMED character in 2 out of 3!! the third one doesn't count bc it was a bunch of skits and so strict plot... so i guess that means... i was a named character in BOTH of my productions?~ I just performed in Grease 2 days ago on friday as Jan, my twinkie girl!! I got to eat twinkies on stage!! It was v exciting and I had a blast! some people I know from the hawaii theatre came down to see me and one of my dad's movie friends and they loved me! one of them told my mom i'm going to broadway! haha!!! ^v^ isn't that sweet? I don't think so but that's a lovely hope, isn't it? I'd like to dedicate this fic to someone who means the world to me, the lovely GuardianAngel07! I love you so much and I know that you're going through a lot right now and I just want you to know I'm always here for you, no matter what, and I know that you are busy and have a lot on your mind, and I just want you to know I'm never mad if we don't talk for a while! I think you get a little worried and feel guilty when we don't talk, but that's not it at all! I care for you so much and if your mental health needs you to take a break, then TAKE that break, honey!!!1! I'm always here to support you and I want what's best for you, mentally, physically, and emotionally!! I care for you a whole lot, okay? I'm always in your corner!!! I'm sorry that this fic isn't what I originally planned to gift to you (the original was much sweeter!! and less angsty!!) but this was the one that was most finished and I figured that anything with our lovely KHR boys would help to cheer you up! I hope you like it!!,, Uhm.... I've also got a lot planned! I released a LONG hannibal fic on AO3 and it's not the best bc I started it 2 years ago.yikes... but I'm finally gonna write for it again after a year but I'm going to revamp it (at least fix the grammar!) before I release it here! It's v violent and prolly gonna get really sexual too, so there's a warning, but i'll warn again when I actually post it. to be truthful, I had this almost fully done for months. I just hated it and hated it and hated it. I've been hating my writing a lot recently which isn't good bc I want to finish a book before I graduate and I'm taking an AP english exam on the 16th, so it's awful timing. I haven't been doing the best but I'm looking forward to summer........ only 18 more days left before I'm free.... then I have summer then I'm a senior and ..yikes....;;; but I've got some summer plans! I'm going to cut and dye my hair (I just realized nothing is stopping me from getting a Guzma cut and dye... then I can dye my hair pink!! and any other color after!!!) and I'll visit a friend in alaska, then I'll get a job somewhere.......... i got no college fund........... sorry for dragging on and on!! uhhhh just expect more from me (hopefully soon..... @GuardianAngel07 i hope ur ready for more awful songfics from me.... because i've written some reeeeaaaaallll angsty and sad ones, already with u in mind!! why do you always get the worst of the bunch.......,,,) love u all! and please leave a review if u enjoyed this! I seriously would've stopped posting all together if it wasn't for some incredibly kind people (looking at you, GA07!!) and a recent review for my hannibal fic on AO3 (or rather, reviews. yes, this person left MULTIPLE. very detailed and heartfelt, and I was giddy for days after!! So if you want more, PLEASE leave a review!! it's not fun to post and feel like you're just yelling into a void!! yell back at me!)

––––––––––––––––––

You were the right way I was just waiting for you to look at me Is there a wrong time? Baby, I’m guessing Just let me know He can never get a break, can he? Gokudera sighed, smoke curling past his lips into the chill autumn air. The leaves were just beginning to change color and he cursed how the light cast amber shadows over the smooth plane of your face, cursed how he couldn’t trace the honey light with his fingertips and kiss the darkness away. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he took another drag of his cigarette. Hayato tried to ignore you. He really did. But how can he, when you look as good as you do with a rose-pink blush that covers your cheeks and ears when someone cracks a joke that makes you laugh until you can barely catch your breath? How your jaw drops open in delight before you remember where you are and hide your smile with your hand– something he desperately hoped you would lose the habit of because, god, did you look pretty when you smiled– and blot away the joyful tears in your eyes? How could he not give you his complete, undivided attention when you were as sugar-sweet as you were? His jade eyes flickered back to you again, almost against his will. Your face was bright, eyes glinting in the soft light of the dying afternoon as you teased one of your friends, grinning widely as they swiped playfully at you in return. Gokudera groaned and his head slumped back against the pillar he was leaning against a little too quick, sending an unpleasant shock up his spine. “Shit,” he hissed, stomping out his cigarette on the concrete behind Namimori High and massaging the back of his skull gingerly. What a day. First, Tsuna and Yamamoto had nearly been killed on their way to school again; of course, Gokudera saved both of them, although Yamamoto he saved slightly more reluctantly. Gokudera was strong– of course he was, he wasn’t Tsuna’s right hand for nothing. He just wished he could prove to you that he was strong enough for you, too… Then, that bastard that patrolled the school like some kind of obsessive freak was on his back again. Something about being late for class. Reborn showed up and solved the matter rather quickly, but that didn’t keep Gokudera from steaming out the ears for another hour or so. But the worst part of the day? It was definitely you, without a doubt. You filled his head, turning his thoughts and coherency to cotton in his head and made his mouth as dry as summer. Summer… Gokudera remembered, during lunch period, that you had gone to the beach with him and his friends. You wore a red bathing suit. Red as the fireworks at the summer festival, where he almost told you his feelings but panicked at the last second– but that was a story for another time–and, at one point, clung to his arm to whine about how hot the sun was, and how you were definitely going to get a sunburn. When Gokudera grumbled something back to you about reapplying sunscreen you had winked at him, grinning wide and asking if he wanted to help you with that. By then, there was no doubt in his mind that his milky skin was as red as your bathing suit. From his blushing, dazed haze, you managed to squeeze a frozen lemonade and a plain vanilla ice cream out of him and his wallet. “Share?” you gently cocked your head to one side and held out the icy drink for Gokudera to taste. His mouth was incredibly dry, as it always seemed to be around you– damn you, and damn him for being so weak for you– and he hesitated. You sipped your lemonade languidly and blinked up at him, heavy eyelashes fluttering and all doe-eyed, and his chest clenched in such a way that it brought him agony and ecstasy in equal measure. “Hm?” you hummed, waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to deny your offer when a heavy stream of melted ice cream rolled down the side of the cone and over your hand. A surprised yelp and a curse left your throat as you hurried to clean the treat off of the cone. When you switched the cone to your other hand to lick the drops of vanilla from your palm, Gokudera’s brain snapped back to being fully functional and he hurriedly agreed to sharing with you. As you complained once again about the heat and the lack of more interesting ice cream flavors at the snack bar, Gokudera thought of how silly he was being for thinking of sharing the ice cream as an indirect kiss– an indirect tongue kiss, more accurately. But more honestly, it was more like the two of you just swapped spit–but that’s not a very pleasant thing to think of, no matter how much he liked you. He wasn’t in middle school anymore; he shouldn’t be so swayed by this! He shouldn’t feel so hot and his heart shouldn’t be beating so fast. A cool ocean breeze swept your hair away from your face as you shook ice chunks in your frozen lemonade, loosening them enough to drink. Gokudera turned his gaze to the clear blue sea, his friends wading in it, and the lazy scrawl of puffy white clouds across the sky and he wondered if he could gather the courage to ask for a sip of the lemonade, too. If he was only going to get an indirect kiss, he wanted a proper one. Slowly coming out of his reverie, Gokudera realized he had been looking at you the whole time. The shade that Namimori cast over him wasn’t enough to cool his embarrassed blush and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. Gokudera nearly jumped out of his skin when something in his pocket buzzed. He fished out his phone– obviously, of course it was his phone. He must be more tired than he thought, to be startled by his own phone. [Baseball Freak] whatcha lookin at? Snapping his head up, Gokudera scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of Yamamoto. God, how embarrassing to be caught staring at his crush by the person most likely to tease him about it… [Baseball Freak] up here Yamamoto was leaning out of one of the windows of a classroom far above Gokudera’s head, waving at him without a care in the world. It was then that Gokudera remembered why he was waiting outside at all, staring at you so wistfully– Tsuna and Takeshi had to attend an after school remedial session for their poor grades… No matter how many tutoring sessions they both received from Reborn and Hayato and a variety of other eccentric characters that always seemed to appear out of nowhere, they still couldn’t retain anything they learned… especially not math. Shaking his head angrily, the silver haired boy punched out a response to him but his phone buzzed again before he could send it. [Baseball Freak] see something over there u like? I think u do~~~ aren’t they just sooo cute?? >///7///<   Gokudera bit his tongue. How dare Yamamoto say that about you?! It was true, he had to admit, but his pride was hurt from being so easily caught, heart read with such dead-on accuracy that he responded the only way he knew how to. [Me] PISS OFF A rich laugh filled the air above him and only served to spur Gokudera on, cracking his knuckles, clenching his jaw, and wishing he could beat Takeshi into taking what he said back. [Baseball Freak] u know, if u don’t make a move, someone else will………….they’re so pretty and smart and nice!! who wouldn’t want to date them?~ Gokudera’s rage calmed, eerily still. He knew that someone would make a move on you if he didn’t soon. He didn’t miss the way that the boys in the class would offer to carry your bags and would do anything to get just a little closer to you to sling their arms around your shoulders, pretending to show you something in a book, and to breathe in your light perfume. Or the way that girls would bite their lips and giggle when you told a joke and how they would bat their eyelashes and tease you and play with your hair just a little too much for it to be considered strictly friendly. Hayato knew he wasn’t the only person looking to add you to his dating pool and he also knew he wasn’t the best candidate to win your heart. It was a subject that often haunted his brain late at night, a miasma of doubt and self-hatred that cut deep into his heart when no one was there to see him cry. He was too loud, too violent, and too crude for someone like you to fall for. Too dangerous. It didn’t help that Yamamoto was the polar opposite of him– warm, friendly, and kind enough to be anyone’s dream man. And it definitely didn’t help that Yamamoto often wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you into his chest when there was nothing else for him to do with his hands. That happened often and made Gokudera more broken hearted than he would ever admit. [Baseball Freak] so? r u gonna say anything to them???? Gokudera had his heart set on you but his brain told him, quite logically, that you would never like someone like him back. Whoever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all was a damn fool. [Me] mind ur business. Up above, there was a sigh loud enough for Gokudera to hear and he knew instantly that he had made the wrong move. He looked up just in time to hear Yamamoto call your name in a sing-songy voice, to see him through weak, orange sun rays, waving cheerfully at you. Gokudera snapped his gaze to you to see your hair bounce with each cute head turn as you looked for the source of the voice. Yamamoto called your name again and Gokudera registered that not only had he used your first name but he added a “-chan” to the end of it– what a double-crossing bastard! You found him and Hayato’s lungs felt tight, but not as a result of his chain-smoking. Your face lit up–your pretty, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous face– and you yelled back a greeting and swung your arms around wildly back at Takeshi, heels lifting off the ground in delight with your ministrations. Hayato’s gaze flickered back up to Takeshi just in time to see the brunet pointing down at him vigorously. Your sight followed Takeshi’s direction and you locked gazes with Hayato. His breath caught somewhere between his throat and chest and his heart pounded against his ribcage, furiously trying to escape this terribly humiliating situation. Just let me know As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened slightly and you gave him an embarrassed, genuine smile as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was strange; he didn’t think that you had anything to be embarrassed about. You were deathly adorable when excited, even if it was because you were excited to see that baseball idiot. He hoped to whatever higher being that was out there– and he knew something was out there: aliens, at least– that he hadn’t imagined that sweet, pink blush that dusted your cheeks and ears and ran down your neck. He was smiling back at you, equally as shyly, before he knew it. Well, it’s been a long time Since you’ve been lonely So what will I do? You are the right one And I’m just a boy who Is looking at you “Hey, Hayato?” you called. His spine straightened, vertebra by vertebra, at the sound of your voice. You had used his first name– sure, you had been doing it for a while, but still every time you called him so endearingly, it sent hot, smoky electricity up his spine. The way the bed sheets creased under your small body and lazy afternoon sunlight dappled your visage had his head reeling. There you were, lounging and at peace with the world, in his apartment, in his bed. “What?” He didn’t mean to sound so brusque– but then again, he doesn’t mean many of the things he says with his angry disposition. Especially to you. “Why do you turn down everyone that confesses to you? Don’t you want to… well… I don’t know, fool around with someone? I mean, we’re in highschool, this is supposed to be the most reckless time of our lives, right? Why not live a little?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling into your eyes. His fingers itched to brush it out of your face and your own fingers played with something on your phone. Probably texting, some faceless guy or girl, flirting, playing coy and– “Hayato?” He shivered, loving how his name sounded on your soft lips. “I don’t know, idiot. I’m mean, but not mean enough to do something like that to some kid stupid enough to think they like me.” He settles for brushing his own hair out of his face. You turn over on your stomach, “I guess…” Something about your tone when you say that makes Gokudera narrow his eyes in suspicion. Did something happen to you to make you upset? Why were you bringing up this topic now? Why were you bringing it up to him? “I just think it’s a waste, y’know?” you ran a hand through your hair and locked your phone, placing it to the side. Your eyes slid closed and Hayato realized how close your head was to his lap, how easily he could pet your hair and have you doze off in his embrace. You looked sleepy enough anyway– would a little nap hurt the both of you? “Hayato, don’t you know how handsome you are?” you mumbled dreamily. “You could get anyone you want, anyone, and you chose to sit here and do nothing. Why?” Hayato couldn’t think. His head was full of steel wool and his blood thrummed loudly through him. You called him handsome. You called him handsome. When his breath came back to him in a barely noticeable gasp, he couldn’t filter the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “I can’t.” “What?” your eyes slowly opened and you leaned up on an elbow, looking quizzically up at him. “I can’t get anyone I want.” “Why not?” His lungs filled shallowly and he turned his face away from you, focusing on the empty street below, through his room’s window. The sun cast golden light and deep, lavender shadows across the world and Hayato knew that if he looked at you right now, everything would go to shit. He’d see your face; all the perfections and beautiful flaws and you would see through him as if he were glass blown, see how desperate he was for you and how his insides were twisting and trembling in fear and reverence, in equal measure, of your power over him. You would recoil, disgust drawn over your lovely face in terribly sharp lines and you would see how his heart would break over and over again. “Sometimes you just can’t.” Your lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed; he could tell that much by your silence. Unsatisfied with his answer, you huffed and threw yourself back down on the bed, the crown of your head knocking against his thigh. Your hair splayed out around your face, angelic, and Hayato was lucky that your eyes had once again shut to accept the call of the dream world, because if they hadn’t, you would’ve seen how absolutely helpless he looked, gazing at you. So what will I do? His tongue darted out to smooth over his dry lower lip and he felt the faint sting of the thin skin there– cracked. He tasted iron and swallowed thickly. Gokudera wished he was closer to you, so much closer to you than he was, but he was doubtful his heart would be able to handle that. Your breathing started to slow and Hayato found his hand smoothing over your soft hair and you jolted violently, startling the both of you. You stared up at him, eyes full of stars and planets far away, and he laughed airily. He shook his head, silently telling you, No, don’t wake up just yet, everything’s fine. You accepted this without question and closed your eyes again. This time, Hayato gently slid his hands under your head and guided you towards his lap. He arranged himself comfortably on an array of flattened pillows and stroked your hair as you lay, safe and happy in his lap. A single eye peeked at him– slyly, cat-like– before you hummed and shifted closer to him. A contented sigh slipped through Hayato’s lips and he himself started to feel drowsy. In his dreamy stupor, his hand trailed down your face, down your neck, and down, down your arm until he had your fingers gently entwined with his. Sure, it may have just been an unconscious reaction, but the way your hand squeezed his back made his dreams lovely and surreal and hallucinatory, in all the best ways. I tried the wrong way I was guessing Biding my time You are the only One I can picture By my side “Gokudera, what’s up?” Takeshi nodded at the silver-haired bomber as he approached, strangely insightful today with his clear, milk chocolate eyes. The boy in question merely grumbled vaguely, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if he was fishing for the answer to Yamamoto’s question down there as well. “That bad, huh?” Gokudera rolled his eyes. It wasn’t rare for him and Yamamoto to arrive at Tsuna’s house before the young mafia boss could flee from it, already anxious and sweaty. Today was no different. “Hey, at least you tried, right?” Yamamoto offered a weak smile, knowing how much you meant to Gokudera. His shoulders were hiked up to his ears and Takeshi didn't miss how the hot, red ring on Gokudera’s cigarette quickly crawled down to the filter before he was tapping out another from his near-empty box and sucking on the new cigarette, lighting it with the dying butt of the used one. He tossed the old one down and ground it into the asphalt. Takeshi frowned. The baseball star shifted the bag on his shoulder uncomfortably, his bats for after school practice clinking metallically. “ … I didn't.” Gokudera kept his gaze locked on a lamp post down the block. Takeshi blinked, not expecting a response from Gokudera’s sunken frame. “What?” “I didn't try.” It took Takeshi a moment to understand what Gokudera meant before grimacing with a little more than a dash of friendly pity in his eyes. He shifted his weight from his hip, seeking to comfort Gokudera, but decided against it at the last moment. “Why?” his voice came out in a gentle rasp. Gokudera still refused to look at him, green eyes clouded and trained on a particularly colorful poster on that singular lamp post. Seconds ticked by before Hayato groaned and dragged a hand down his face, pinching his cigarette in frustration with his other hand. “I can’t! I just can’t. I know they don’t feel the same and I know I’ll break if they have to say it to my face. I can’t handle that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that. God, Yamamoto, I just can’t take that chance.” Being around them is– it’s just too much and too little for me to take– I’m going crazy here, driving myself in circles and spinning out, spinning my goddamn wheels because of them. It’s fuckin’ sickening but I don’t want a cure. I feel so helpless and I hate it, I never want to feel this way again. What the hell did I do to deserve this?” Gokudera’s eyes snapped shut, face contorted in agony. “I can’t tell them. I can’t. I want them to be happy. It’s better this way anyway. I’m not good enough.” Gokudera’s voice cracked on his last word before his declaration faded into the morning’s stillness. Yamamoto was insulted– his best friend talking about himself this way? Not in a million years, if he had any say in it– but Gokudera snapped at him before he could get a word in. “And don’t say shit about me being good enough, because we both know I’m not good enough for them. I’ll never be good enough, Yamamoto, that’s not me. I wouldn’t be able to hold them as much as I should, to kiss their gorgeous fucking face– I wouldn’t be able to be fucking honest, Takeshi. They deserve more than the bullshit excuses I’d spew to cover our fucking asses when we get the crap kicked out of us on a bi-weekly basis. They don’t deserve that.” Silence weighed like velvet over the two of them and the sun was now calling out songbirds, sleepy murmurs from the neighborhood beginning to wake from the heavy slumber of the night. Yamamoto didn’t know what to say anymore and Gokudera put the cigarette back where it belonged: between his lips, funneling poison straight to his lungs. “ … I don’t think it’s like that, Hayato. You’re being too harsh on yourself. I really don’t think they feel that way about you.” Hayato said nothing and kept his eyes glued to that single poster again. Yamamoto reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder, mustering as much comfort as he could before he knew he would overstay his welcome. Hayato needed time to clear his head. “ … I’ll go inside to check up on Tsuna. Come inside soon, alright?” The response that didn’t meet him was enough to know Gokudera wouldn’t get better as quick as that. Takeshi sighed in sorrowful compassion before slowly making his way to Tsuna’s front door, carefully piecing together his cheerful mask yet again. The door shut quietly, and voices and vague, worrisome sounds came from within. Gokudera raised his hand to scrub furiously at his misty eyes, his bracelets clinking together and rings scraping his face and leaving thin, red lines around his eyes. He leaned back against the wall around his best friend’s house and his head banged against the concrete, painful and painfully familiar to something that had happened recently, involving you. “Fuck,” he hissed into the empty street. Class was boring, as it always was. There was nothing that could entertain him that was in Namimori’s curriculum. Tsuna managed to convince Gokudera to take college classes too, so that his development wouldn’t stall (and also because Gokudera being bored meant a bit more trouble for Tsuna, but he was genuinely concerned about Gokudera’s personal growth). But even those classes were much too easy for him. Something that wasn’t easy? Seeing you every damn day and not being able to do a thing about it. Getting closer, getting further, cutting you off completely– he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those. Gokudera tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his desk and sighed, staring out the classroom window into the clear blue sky. He couldn’t wait for summer again but, boy, did he like seeing you all bundled up in wool and cashmere and simply drowning in soft fabrics and cozy patterns. You were so cute with your nose red from the cold, lips burning pink from being bitten so much– he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, no, he would take this to his grave– but what he wouldn’t give to be the one to bite your lips instead, to hear you whimper and moan, just for him, and– A small collision with the side of his head brought him out of his daydreams. Curious and annoyed, Hayato brought a hand up to his hair and picked out a crumpled wad of paper. Who the hell had the balls to throw shit at him? He was still the scariest guy in Namimori (and no, Hibari doesn’t count, either). If anything, he should be terrorizing the rest of the class. Taking a less than subtle glance around the room, he caught your eyes staring at him eagerly. Taking a moment to compose himself, he averted his gaze to your note instead. Of course it was you that threw it at him. Who else? Wanna go to a bakery after school? Kyoko-chan was talking about it earlier and I can’t get it out of my head… I’ll pay if u want!! I want cake~~~ Hayato didn’t hold back the happy grin that spread over his face, sparing a glance at you, impatiently waiting for his reply, before scribbling something in his mostly neat penmanship under your barely legible chicken scratch. No need to pay. But yeah, that sounds p cool. Meet me right after school at the front gates? The teacher still had his back turned to the class, writing something that Gokudera already knew on the blackboard, droning on and on about logs and bases and inverses and irrational numbers or something equally useless. He knocked his hand back and threw from the shoulder, the small, now neatly folded note landing in the middle of your desk. You snatched it up quickly, hiding it just in time for the teacher to turn around and call on one of your classmates to answer a question. Gokudera couldn’t see you unfold the note but your arms were moving under the desk and you grabbed a pencil off the desk too. Gokudera remembered that pencil; it was thin, cute, and pink– with a brown bear on top. The bear held a red heart and its nose was in the same cute shape. There were patterns of hearts and stars in red and yellow and white, and Gokudera knew all of this because Kyoko had helped him pick it out to give it to you for your birthday. He thought giving you a gift with so many hearts was a bit forward– tactless, even– but Kyoko gave him a stern look and told him that nothing he could do would be forward enough when it came to you and, spluttering and flushed, he tried to deny his affections for you but only ended up confessing how he felt about you to Kyoko. Smiling gently like the angel she is, Kyoko let him talk her ear off about you for nearly an hour and a half. She earned a milkshake and a slice of strawberry cake for her bravery. You spun in your chair, clutching the edge of it in your small hand, and flicked the paper back to him. The message was a little more timid, he noticed. actually, can we meet on the roof after school?.. I have something I want to talk to u about, but it shouldn’t take long… We can go straight to the bakery if u don’t want to, tho!!!!! ^v^;; Gokudera recognized how you were trying to hide something from him with your overwhelming facade of consideration. Whenever you felt insecure about something, you always spent time making sure other people felt more comfortable and happy than you were, as if that would make you feel better yourself. A frown carried over his pale face and when he looked up, you were staring at him again. This time, you seemed to have carefully examined his face and your brows were furrowed. As soon as you met his eyes, you jumped, shaking your head and waving your hands to tell him, Don’t mind me, it’s nothing. Gokudera was just about to pen down a reply when the teacher turned around again and began talking to the class, not looking like he was going to turn his back on Gokudera any time soon. Hayato caught your eyes with his green ones and nodded quickly, mouthing ‘I’ll be there.’ Lunch was as it normally was. That is, filled with shouts and explosions and general chaos. However, this lunch period was noisier than it previously had been; a fact that only would have been noticed by the people present if they paid very careful attention to their volume. Gokudera noticed. Damn right, he noticed. Sure, you usually sat next to Takeshi. Sure, you had a habit of clinging to him as you laughed and whispering in his ear. And sure, sometimes you would call him Take-chan as you fed him bits of your own bentou– a fact that pissed Gokudera off endlessly. But what was different? Today you were nestled in Yamamoto’s side, tucked neatly away under his arm which alternated from wrapping around your shoulders to hold you to him and pulling you in by your waist to bring you nearly onto his lap. It stung Gokudera something awful. Watching the two of you laugh and whisper to each other felt like you had run Hayato’s heart over shrapnel and soothed his wounds with lemon and salt. He averted his jealous, but startlingly gentle gaze from you to the sky above you, willing tears not to come and cursing himself for feeling this way about you. “Hey, Take-chan!” You tugged on his shirt, the fabric over his chest, to bring his attention back to you. “Hmm?” You stole a glance at Gokudera and whispered giddily into Yamamoto’s ear. When you’re finished, Yamamoto made a sound that can only be described as pure elation, and he tugged you in even closer, tickling you in the process. You laughed and shrieked at him to stop and he only did so when you’re nearly in tears. Tsuna is having a muted conversation with Gokudera and he is trying to pay attention– honest– Gokudera is trying so goddamn hard, but it’s next to impossible when a grass-green snake hisses low in his belly over you writhing and laughing so happily in Takeshi’s lap. Yamamoto whispered hotly back into your ear and Gokudera sees something he wished he would never see from the two of you: you, with a hot blush crawling up your neck and Takeshi with his face practically in the crook of it, grinning all pearly white and eyes staring at you with such fucking dedicated tunnel vision. Gokudera wasn’t hungry anymore. Lunch ended and you gave Yamamoto one last quick hug before cleaning up your trash and putting everything away that you wanted to keep. Gokudera was slower than normal, taking all the time in the world and then some to get ready for class again. The door to the roof clanged shut and Gokudera let out a heavy sigh, eyes closed and trying to feel everything that he could– everything except his feelings, that is. He relished the cool breath of wind that blew against his face, tossing his hair around and whistling softly to him. He took account of the ground beneath him, hard and sturdy, and the sounds of teenagers filtering back into the school, complaining about their classes and each other. The one thing he didn’t hear–not until it was too late– was you. “Hayato?” you tugged on the back of his shirt, scaring him witless. He yelped like a kicked puppy and spun around to face you, composure long lost. He tried to say something but nothing left his lips; nothing coherent, at least. The hand that grasped his shirt didn’t cease touching him. It got even closer than before as you took a step, and then another, into his personal space. The height difference between you was just too much for him to handle and Gokudera felt himself simultaneously trying to pale and flush, unsure which won over in the end. Your hand slid along his waist, his side, and up his chest lightly. The smile that took root on your face was weak and bashful, even– and you bumped your forehead on his chest before you looked back up at him, an emotion he didn’t recognize dancing in your eyes. “Don’t forget, we’re meeting here after school, Hayato. You wouldn’t want to keep me waiting, would you?” Your finger tapped his chest teasingly, adding another beat to his pulse and he felt fire crawl up the base of spine at your nail scraping through his shirt. You blinked curiously up at him and his voice whispered to you, hoarse and against his will, “No, I wouldn’t.” Satisfied with that, you made sure that he had everything he had brought up to the roof with him, promptly forced him to offer his elbow to you, and curled yourself happily over his arm before leading the both of you down the stairs to finish the rest of the day’s lessons. The roof was empty except for Gokudera. As soon as school was over, he bid Tsuna and Yamamoto goodbye, telling them not to wait up for him. Yamamoto had a big, stupid grin on his face– But when does he not? Gokudera rationalized. There was something about that smile that showed that he knew more than he let on but Gokudera was much too preoccupied with thoughts of you to care. He leaned against the rails, not trusting it to hold him, careful not to put too much weight on it. He took a steadying breath. Breathe. It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. But no matter what he told himself to stop the rapid, staccato drumming in his chest, his anxieties were not relieved in the slightest. He was afraid– god, how he was afraid. What did you want to talk to him about? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Did you grow tired of him? Did… Did you want to tell him you were dating Takeshi? “Hayato?” oh fuck Gokudera jumped. The amount of times you scared him witless was embarrassingly high. “Hey.” You smiled slightly. “Hey.” Something about you was different. Something was… off. The way your eyes drifted from him every other second before coming back to his concerned gaze was unusual, but even more unusual was the way your hands fidgeted behind your back. “So,” Hayato tried to get the words to come out. The light breeze that tossed your hair around your face in a halo didn’t help much, but he appreciated it anyway. “What’d you wanna talk about? I’m hungry as fuck.” It slipped out– Hayato’s cursing habit hijacked his mouth, nerves making him go on autopilot. At least you took it well; your eyes glinted in amusement and some of the tension between the two of you dissipated. A pink tongue darted out to soothe your dry lips and Hayato was a little too aware of it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while, but I just didn’t know how to tell you– it’s a bit… embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me, okay?” Your mouth was set in a firm line, eyes pleading and vulnerable. “Sure.” That wasn’t the reply you wanted but it was what it was. By my side “I…” you began, then lost the words you had planned. “You?..” Gokudera offered. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what you wanted to tell him or what it entailed, but he was sure that if it meant your happiness, he would do anything at all to keep you smiling. “It’s just that… You know, I–” you fumble over your words, frustration visible on your face. Gokudera scolded himself for thinking of you in this way when you so clearly don’t want him but he can’t help it. He’s worried over your affect on him before, but he never considered how weak he is to you or how strong your natural beauty is under the glow of a late afternoon and the crinkle of your brow with your courageous efforts… courageous efforts that you try to spell out but they fail, perched above your tongue. Your soft hands come down in frustration upon the hem of your shirt and you try again, slip again, and Gokudera is privy to the realization that this isn’t something he should take lightly any longer, no matter how much it calms his nerves or keeps him from facing the possible reality of him losing you. He leans forward to grasp your hands from distressing your shirt, to keep you from distressing yourself, with full knowledge that this moment could be the end of you allowing him to be graced with your presence. Hayato decided that your momentary comfort before unleashing hell on him was worth more than a thousand lifetimes of you by his side in the masquerade mask of lukewarm passion if you backed down from rejecting him now. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” And he touched you and nearly recoiled when your face whipped up to meet his, nearly let go of you because your skin was hot as forged iron and nearly as red. He tried to let go but you wouldn’t stand for it, as you used his hands over your shoulders as leverage to place your palms, clammy and shaking, over his smooth cheekbones and bring his face down to yours. Hayato’s eyes were wide as he met your lips, glossed and smooth and clearly prepped for this specific moment, specific kiss, specifically with him and he could have withered away in embarrassment of his rough mouth and nicotine lungs if it weren’t for how warm you were against him and how securely you held him, despite how insecure you had been seconds prior. Gokudera barely has the brains left to close his eyes on the skyline of Namimori but when he does he sees stars and he kisses you back and there’s a scrape of his teeth against your bottom lip and you shiver and he groans into you and now he’s just as red, if not redder, than you are. A slick noise of separation, then the both of you don’t know how to deal with the awkward intimacy of it, or what to do with your hands, but Hayato managed to gather enough sense– or maybe he’s running on what he’s fantasized on doing after your first kiss together and is on a daydream-guided autopilot– and he brings you into a tight hug and buried his head into your wild hair. You laugh into his chest and when he tried to bring you out to ask you why, you clung to his wrinkled white shirt even more and blindly found his hands, tangled with his bracelets and rings, then laced your fingers soundly with his. Gokudera can hardly believe the kiss happened, can believe he’s still alive even less, but he’s sure you can hear the quickened palpitations of his heart and that notion does no good for his health either. You’re an absolute dream and Gokudera is ready and happy to die right there, but you pull away from him, hands still interwoven, and smile so beautifully that he is sure that angels exist and you’re the vision of seraphim, disguised as human so barely that if you were anymore angelic he would surely fall dead where he stood, kiss-dizzy and sweetly dazed. From his dazed mouth, stupidity falls out. “So what was it that you had to tell me?” You laugh and press a kiss– more confidently this time– to his collarbone. At his affirmative, stuttered, elated hum, you press another and another, up his neck and jawline and chin until you reach his lips again and he kisses you back with adoration and love and his still evolving understanding of your feelings for him. “I’m not sure how to say it any clearer,” you said with a laugh that rang like the church bells that sounded in Gokudera’s head as clearly as he imaged they would on your wedding day, as he pressed his own kisses all over your face and held you close with the intention of treasuring you as long as he had a pulse and then some. “Hayato, I really, really like you.” And that was the day that Gokudera Hayato had come to face the reality, one that he had long accepted, that he loved you more than anything and you felt the same, but most importantly, that you were the right one for him. And that he was the right one for you.

[girls-scenarios]

Not So Different

Idol: Suyeon (Weki Meki)

Prompt: Hi! Could it be a WekiMeki scenario with Suyeon. High school AU, where Suyeon is a smart one in the whole school is paired with reader who is an outcast (too silent/avoids everyone). Maybe reader will protect her from sth while they were working on the project? (Sport if this is too complicated). Thank you! Much love ❤️

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Okay so. Basically Suyeon is a bit of a nerd who also doesn’t have many friends and the reader is still kind of an outcast/”bad” student. Hope this was what you had in mind anon! I really couldn’t wait to write for Suyeon because she’s such a character and I love her. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and support Picky Picky!

Warnings: Some cursing and bullying. Also it’s long.

♡ Tip Jar♡

Suyeon had never cared much about appearances. Sure she did her hair and made sure her uniform was pressed and nice, and occasionally wore more makeup than foundation, but she didn’t really care what people thought of her. School was much more important, and as long as her friends liked her, she didn’t need to care about anyone else. She’d been at the head of the class since elementary school, and although some people hated her for that, she intended to be first until she graduated and moved on to university. She was happy with what she had.

But sometimes being the smartest kid in the school had consequences. Those consequences had everything to do with the fact that teachers thought she would be able to help tutor all the kids they didn’t want to deal with. To be honest, Suyeon hated every minute of it and thought it was a waste of time to have a student teach another student, especially when one student hated the other, but she couldn’t tell the teachers no without even more consequences. Still, she really, really wanted to tell the teachers no, just this one time.

“Guys. I’m so annoyed. Mr. Jung paired me up with (Y/N) because apparently they need someone to ‘keep them on track’ and he thinks I’d be good for that.” She slammed her AP bio books down onto her desk, ignoring the annoyed looks from her other peers as she turned to her friends and slumped into her chair. “Just kill me now before they do.”

“Mr. Jung is the worst. You know, he paired me up with that delinquent girl Chungha last semester because he thought the same thing! And I had to work really hard not to fail that project!” Yoojung sighed and shook her head. “When will the injustice against smart students end?”

“Didn’t you fuck her?” Elly asked with a grin, twirling her pencil in her fingers, a nervous habit.

“Elly! Language,” Suyeon hissed, glancing around the class. The other girl just shrugged.

“What, the teacher isn’t here. And Yoojung definitely fucked Chungha. For like a good few months.”

“Okay, fine, maybe. But you’d fuck her too, she’s hot!”

“True, true.”

“Can we please not talk about Yoojung’s sexual encounters with delinquent girls while I’m having a dilemma over here?” Suyeon asked, reaching over to gently kick Yoojung’s chair. “She just has a thing for bad girls. Look at Doyeon.”

“Doyeon’s actually just a sweetheart though, didn’t you play basketball with her in middle school?” Yoojung looked over at the older girl with her eyebrows raised. “You’re the one who told me she’d be good to date!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Still! What am I supposed to do with (Y/N)? I’m asking for help here!” Suyeon turned her attention to Elly and narrowed her eyes. “And don’t you dare think up anything inappropriate.”

“Me? Inappropriate? Never!”

“Lies. We have a liar on our hands.”

“Whatever.” Elly sighed and twirled her pencil again, propping her head up with her hand and leaning onto the desk. “Just deal with it, what else can you do? You know Mr. Jung doesn’t change his mind about anything. Do what the rest of us do and deal with it while you do the project yourself and then you never have to deal with (Y/N) again.”

“I don’t want to do an entire project by myself! That’s so annoying!”

“Would you rather have to try and convince (Y/N) to do work instead?” Yoojung opened her notebook and glanced up at the front of the class, where the teacher had just started to open her own books, calling for the students to settle down. “Trust me, it’s easier that way.”

Suyeon didn’t want to believe her, but she didn’t really have any other options. With a sigh, she sat up in her seat and pulled out her pen, ready to get to work. This was just another trial that she, as the smartest student in the school, had to go through.

-

The classroom wasn’t big enough for everyone. As soon as Mr. Jung called for everyone to get into their pairs, the room erupted into mildly controlled chaos, much too loud for Suyeon, and she grimaced. She could hardly hear herself over this mess, much less hear anyone else, and she knew she couldn’t work like this. Just as she was about to grab her things and ask Mr. Jung if she could work in the library, someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned around to see you leaning against the wall, looking bored.

“So. We’re a pair, right?” Your voice was hardly loud enough for her to hear, and she sighed. You hadn’t even been in class last time, so she was hoping you’d skip again today. No such luck.

“Yep. But I can’t work when it’s this loud. I was going to ask Mr. Jung if we could go to the library, is that cool?” She picked up her back to sling it over her shoulder, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Wow, would he really let you do that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“If I asked, he wouldn’t even hesitate to say no. Must be nice being the smartest girl in the school.” You stood up straight and she rolled her eyes at your words.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

“After you, captain.”

You were already annoying her, but she knew she got annoyed easily, so she tried to ignore you as she walked up to Mr. Jung and gave him her most trustworthy smile. “Mr. Jung? I can’t work when it’s this loud. May (Y/N) and I have permission to work in the library?” She knew she would be allowed to, but the way his eyes darted to look at you before he answered made her a little nervous about the future of her project.

“Well, okay, but make sure you’re working while you’re in there.” His words were directed at you instead of her, but she still smiled and nodded her head, ready to duck out of there before he changed his mind because of you.

“Of course! Thank you, Mr. Jung!”

Outside the classroom, the hallways were quiet, most classes still in-session, so when you let out a chuckle, she could hear it loud and clear. She turned to look at you, a little apprehensive about what you would say, only to see you smirking as you shifting the strings of your drawstring backpack on your shoulder.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, that was just impressive. I think your voice raised three octaves back there.” She could feel her face flush at your words and she quickly looked away, glaring at the floor.

“It did not.”

“The teachers must think you’re a really sweet, innocent girl, huh? Do they know that you’re rude to everyone else?”

“I’m not rude,” Suyeon scoffed, shaking her head. “I’m nice when people are nice to me and not nice when people aren’t nice to me.”

“When was I not nice to you, then?”

“It’s the tone of voice, (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you do know who I am! I figured the school’s number one student wouldn’t have time for a loser like me!” You were wearing a sarcastic smile on your face when she whirled around, setting her jaw.

“I’m tired of you already. You’re acting like I’m popular when you don’t even really know me. How do you know my name, huh? From the scholarship? From the school newspaper? Or did you maybe hear people talking shit? Talking about how I suck up to the teachers, or how I’m a nerd? How I do nothing but study to make everyone look bad? How much they’d love it if I just disappeared so their parents would stop comparing them to me?” She clenched her fists and took a deep breath, glaring back down at the ground. “I’m tired of this. Whatever, I’ll do the whole project myself and you don’t have to do anything. That’s what you wanted, right? See you at the end of the project date.” She spun around again, but you reached out and grabbed her arm, making her flinch a bit.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I might not like people or school, but I’m not a fucking leech either. Just give me work to do and I’ll do it. I’m not going to let you do the whole thing.” She stared into your eyes, but you stared right back, challenging her. With a deep sigh, she yanked her arm away and rubbed at the place where your fingers had been.

“Fine. I’ll give you work to do if you stop being a jerk.”

“You-. Okay, fine. I won’t be a jerk.”

“Good. Let’s just go to the library and forget this happened.” She spun around and marched ahead, and it took a minute for you to follow, much quieter than you had been before. Suyeon knew she said too much, knew she snapped, knew she took out the anxiety and pressure onto you, but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize. You had been the one to push her, and it was bound to come out eventually. She was just glad none of the teachers were around to see it, and hoped this would all be over soon.

-

“I snapped at them.” At Suyeon’s words, Elly looked up from her textbook and across the community library table, eyes wide behind her glasses.

“What?” Suyeon sighed, not reading the book in her hands but also not able to tear her eyes away from it.

“(Y/N). They were pushing me and we got into a bit of an argument and I just snapped.”

“Oh. That’s not good.” Elly glanced around the library. Most of the tables were empty, so she got up and moved over to sit beside Suyeon instead, reaching over to rub her back comfortingly. “What all did you say?”

“They were acting like I was popular.” Suyeon’s voice was soft, even softer than necessary for the library as she leaned into her best friend, shoulders slumped. This was another side of her that she usually didn’t let people see, the girl who was still shy and would rather stay at home with her books than go out and talk to people. “And I just couldn’t take it anymore. I asked them where they heard about me, and asked if it was from all the gossip and bullying.”

“Mmm. How did they react?”

She paused, closing her eyes as she tried to recall how you’d looked. You’d seemed somewhat shocked, mouth slightly open and eyes wide in a way that was no longer mocking. “I think I shocked them. But they said they’d help with the project, at least.”

“Better than nothing. I’m sorry that happened though. I wish I could have been there.”

“You couldn’t have been. We have different classes.” Suyeon let out a sigh and set her book down onto the table, opening her eyes. “You know, they probably think I’m crazy now.”

“I doubt they think you’re crazy. But they might think of you differently.”

“I hate that. I hate it when people think I’m weak. Anyone other than you, that is.”

“I don’t think you’re weak.” Elly gave her a soft smile and tucked her hair back. “I think you’re a very strong girl who’s had to deal with bullying since we were kids. You’ve had to deal with so much, but you just continued studying because you wanted to, because you wanted to show them and because it was your dream to be first. You’re the toughest person I know. You never give up, no matter what.”

“I feel like that’s my fatal flaw. Never giving up.” Suyeon let out a little laugh. “I wish I would let myself give up every once and a while.”

“And give me the first place spot? You’d never.”

“True.” She leaned her head on Elly’s shoulder and smiled. “Hey, I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, same to you.” The other girl pitched her voice high and pinched one of Suyeon’s cheeks. “I love you!”

“Ew, gross,” she said with a laugh, pushing away Elly’s hand. “Don’t say that!”

“You have to accept my affection!”

“Nope! That’s not a rule!”

“Yes it is, it’s in the best friend rule book!”

“I never read such a book.” Suyeon grinned as she ducked away from Elly’s hand once again, feeling much better. Maybe she could face you again tomorrow.

-

This time, you met her in the library instead of the classroom, letting out a sigh as you dropped your backpack to the floor. She raised her eyebrows, looking up from her work.

“Oh, you’re here.”

“You aren’t going to believe this, but I actually had a dentist’s appointment, which is why I was late. And then it took Mr. Jung a long time to let me come meet you here. He’s a pain.”

“If you stopped skipping class, he wouldn’t be so strict on you.”

“But world history is so boring,” you groaned as you sat down in the seat across from her. “I feel like we’ve learned everything in this class a hundred times.”

Suyeon allowed herself to smile a little and she passed over one of the worksheets to you. “That’s because they teach most of it every year, but are required to keep teaching us history. At least it’s an easy pass.”

“Yeah, if Mr. Jung likes you. He keeps marking me down on answers I know I’m getting right just because he doesn’t like me.” You sighed as you looked over the worksheet, and Suyeon stalled at your words.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah? Teachers do it all the time. If you were to compare my test with yours, I’m sure he’d mark me off for answers that you got right.”

As much as she didn’t want to believe that teachers would do such a thing, it didn’t sound like you were lying. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head incredulously. “That’s crazy. Why would a teacher do that? Shouldn’t they want you to succeed?”

“Not if you’re not the student they like. Still, I don’t really care. At least I’m passing. That’s all I care about.”

“If a teacher is doing that, you should bring it up to someone!” Her voice was a little loud for the library, and she flushed, leaning back into her chair when people looked over. Your eyes were wide, kind of like the day before, hand paused on the worksheet, but you recovered in a moment, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“I mean, who would listen to someone like me?”

“I’m listening!” She was careful to keep her voice down, but she put her hands on the table. “Bring it up to your parents too, and the principal. This isn’t right! I mean, I don’t think you should skip classes, but you also shouldn’t be marked down just because the teachers want to punish you or something!” You smiled, put your chin on you hand, and raised your eyebrows.

“You know, Suyeon? You’re not half bad.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, going back to her worksheet.

“No, I mean it. I misjudged you. I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.” She looked up at you, surprised. “It was out of line.”

“O-oh. Um. Thanks for your apology. I’m sorry, too, for blowing up on you like that.”

“Nah, I kind of deserved it. I was being an ass. I’d like to make this project a success.”

She bit her lip for a moment, considering her options, before she reached out her hand for a handshake. “Alright then. Let’s make it a success. Partners?”

“Partners.” You shook it, hand firm around hers and a smile on your lips, and when she pulled back, it felt like her hand was tingling a bit. She ignored it, quickly going back to her worksheet. She had work to do. The school’s number one student didn’t have time to worry about... whatever that was.

“Then let’s get to work.”

-

That night, she laid beside Elly on the floor of her bedroom, looking up at the ceiling as your words echoed in her head. She hadn’t been able to forget about it.

“Hey Elly? Did you know that sometimes teachers give students bad grades just because they don’t like them?”

“Yeah, it’s bullshit. It happened to me a few times in elementary school with Ms. Jones. Why?”

“No reason. It just makes me angry.”

Elly didn’t reply, just smiling and reaching over to ruffle Suyeon’s hair. There was something about her smile that made Suyeon think she knew something, but she tried to dismiss it. “That’s because you’re a good person. You’ll never have to worry about it, though.”

“Yeah.” The ceiling still had glitter on it from her childhood, and she watched as the sparkly pieces blinked at her, almost as if they were accusing her: you know, and you’re doing nothing? “I don’t have to worry about it.”

-

“Hey, (Y/N), have you saved your tests?” She asked the next day, nonchalant. You looked up from your worksheet, then up at Mr. Jung at the front of the classroom, looking a little nervous.

“Uh, somewhere in my room, I think. Why?”

“Well, we have a lot of classes together, and for the classes I’m not in, I think you’re in those classes with my friend Yoojung. We could compare our answers and show for sure if they’re grading you down without reason.”

“You’re still thinking about that? It’s fine, nothing’s going to change. Who would we even go to?” You sounded like someone had drained all of your confidence, and Suyeon hated that.

“The principle likes me. I can bring it up to him.”

“But what if you get in trouble?”

She gave you a small grin, shaking her head. “They can’t get me in trouble, this school needs my grades to survive. Without me, the funding would be cut in half.”

You let out a low whistle, impressed. “Wow, you nerdy kids are next level.”

“Don’t call me that. Still, I think if we bring it up to her, it’ll probably change. Especially if I’m the one who brings it up. We can do it anonymously, so that the teachers don’t know who ratted them out.”

“We’re allowed to do that?”

“We have rights too.”

You glanced once more at Mr. Jung and shrugged. “Well, I guess if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Bring me your tests tomorrow. I’ll remove the name with white-out so they won’t even know it’s you.”

“If only this school knew that their number one student was so mischievous.” You reached out your hand like she had before, making her laugh. She was aware that Mr. Jung was watching her, but for once, she didn’t care. “Partners?”

She grinned as she shook your hand. “Partners.”

“(Y/N), Suyeon, what’s going on over there?”

She put on her best innocent face, and you tried not to laugh, and she realized that she was having fun. It was rare that she actually had fun at school, and it made her feel giddy. You really weren’t so bad after all. “We’re just working!”

“Alright... Hold it down over there, okay?”

“Yes, sir!”

-

“You’re exposing the teachers?” Doyeon looked all too happy with this news, and Suyeon shifted on Yoojung’s desk chair, a little bit shy. She’d come over to see Yoojung, but Doyeon was there too, and now she was in the room sitting beside her as Yoojung rummaged through her drawers, trying to make small talk and hoping this wouldn’t get out.

“Yeah? I guess so? I just need everyone’s tests. If you’ve kept them.”

“Hell yeah! Down with the overlords! Power to the students!” Yoojung bounded over from her dresser, arms full of papers. “I keep all my tests for studying so I’ve got everything.”

“You don’t want my tests. My teachers don’t doctor them, they just aren’t good,” Doyeon said with a shrug, wrapping an arm around Yoojung.

“Awe, babe, you’re a solid B student! Don’t talk like that!” The two girls giggled, and Suyeon cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Uh, thanks Yoojung. I’ll get out of your way now.”

“You don’t have to go!”

“Ah, I have things to do, don’t worry.” Suyeon gave the two an awkward smile and wave as she stood up and shifted the papers underneath her arm. “See you guys in school tomorrow.”

“See you! Don’t get in too much trouble because it’s a Friday tomorrow and we need to hang out!”

“I’ll keep that in mind!” Suyeon quickly stepped out of the room, letting out a sigh of relief once she was back outside. She loved her friends, but she was still glad to be out of there. There was a little pain in her heart, something that whispered about her wanting that too, but she dismissed it as she walked back towards her house, focusing on the task at hand. She didn’t have time to fall in love.

-

Unlike most kids, Suyeon had never had a bad experience at the principals office, so this was the first time she found herself nervous, bouncing her knee as she clutched the folder in her hand. On one side, she’d organized all of her and Yoojung’s tests, and on the other were yours, all correlated to show the ways teachers were marking you down. That morning, you’d handed over your tests and bit your lip, grabbing her hand before she left.

“Just. I don’t know. Be careful?”

“Don’t worry. I know how to talk to teachers.” Her words had been true, and still were true, but as much as she wanted you to believe that she wasn’t nervous, she was. This was something big, and if she did one wrong move.... All of the names in the folder were whited out except for hers. She was the only one who could be blamed.

“Suyeon?” She jumped and looked up at the lady at the desk, who gave her a smile. “The principal is ready to see you.”

“Thank you!” Swallowing, she stood up and hugged the folder to her, giving the lady one last smile as she passed, walking into the principal’s office. His office was familiar, but foreign at the same time. Suyeon had only been there a few times, so although she knew the room, she still felt out of place.

“How’s the school’s number one student doing today?” The principal smiled at her from behind his desk, folding his hands together, and she gave him a shy smile back as she sat down. She could do this, she knew she could. She was going to do this for all the students suffering because of their teachers. She was going to do this for justice. She was going to do this for you.

“I’m doing well, sir. But I wanted to speak to you about a matter that has recently come to light among my peers.”

-

The meeting went well, and Suyeon walked out of the office with a small smile on her face, folder handed over to the principal. Since she had specific teachers, the principal had agreed to look into them, and had even praised her for looking after her less-fortunate peers. Down the hall, you were taking a sip from the water fountain, and when you saw her, you stood up and wiped your mouth, looking at her with wide eyes.

“How did it go?”

“It went well! He told me that he had no idea this was happening and that he’d look into the teacher’s grading systems, and he even thanked me for going to him with proof.”

You grinned and held out your fist for a fist-bump. “You’re incredible, you know that, Suyeon?”

“I try,” she replied, knocking her knuckles against yours. “Hopefully something changes soon. For now, I should probably get to class. Number one student perks only last so long.”

You chuckled at her words and fell into step beside her, walking quietly as the two of you headed back to class. Just before your classroom, you stopped, and she turned to look at you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” You gave her a smile. “I just wanted to say thank you. I’ve never had anyone care about me like that.” Something that she could no longer ignore jumped around in her heart as she smiled back.

“You’re welcome.”

-

Fridays were always pretty great, but this particular Friday, Suyeon was feeling great. She’d already seen the principal pull Mr. Jung aside, she’d gotten full marks on all of her tests, and you’d smiled at her while you thanked her, not to mention that she’d brought pizza for lunch. Everything was going pretty great as she walked towards the area at the back of the school building where she usually ate lunch with her friends. But unfortunately, nothing good ever lasted in her life, and she blinked as a hand slapped the phone from her hands, causing it to clatter to the floor.

For a moment, she just stared at her phone, before looking up to see three kids that she barely knew glaring at her. “Uh. Can I help you guys?”

“Can you help us? Can you help us?” One of the guys said, stepping towards her, and she instinctively stepped back, confused. Had she said something wrong. “You have the nerve to sound conceited now?”

“I think that’s just how my voice-.”

“Shut up. Do you know how annoying it is to be around you?”

Suyeon swallowed and glanced back down at her phone. She didn’t like where this was going. “Uh. No?”

“This is why everyone hates you! You’re so smart and you think you know everything, and you’re so rude to the rest of us. The rest of us who can’t catch up to you no matter how hard you tried. Ms. Parks said that she’s making the next test harder, because you aced this one and she wants to challenge you! And how’s that fair for the rest of us? I’m trying to get good grades and my parents expect me to be at the top of the class, but I can’t, because you’re over here making us all look stupid!”

“I don’t mean to-.”

“Just shut up!” One of the other guys stepped forward and pulled up his fist, and Suyeon flinched, closing her eyes. She could fight with them, she was still strong from her basketball days, but there was no way she’d be able to take on three at a time, and she didn’t want to get in trouble on school grounds. If he just hit her, maybe it would scare them if she fell and-.

She realized that she still hadn’t been hit, and opened her eyes.

You stood in front of her, arms crossed, glowing at the trio. “What the actual fuck is going on here?”

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here, sticking up for this goody-two-shoes? Did she hire your lonely weird ass as protection against all of us lowlifes?”

“No, she’s helped me out and now I’m helping her. And I suggest you leave before I get angry because I assure you that two of us against three of you is a much more even fight, and Elly and Doyeon are waiting right outside those school doors. If they hear Suyeon yell, they’ll come running, and Doyeon doesn’t like bullies.”

One of the guys wrinkled his nose and spit at your feet as they turned to leave. “Sell out,” he muttered as he walked away, and Suyeon let out a sigh of relief, clutching at her bag.

“I’m glad you showed up.”

“They’re just angry because they can’t get an A and they want to blame it on you,” you said, turning around and looking her up and down. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” She let out an awkward laugh, but you didn’t seem to believe her as you reached out to grab her hand.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“Well, yeah! I almost just got hit!” Normally, Suyeon would yank her hand away. But she found that she didn’t want to, so she let you hold it, swallowing nervously. “Seriously though, how did you find me over here?”

“I was going to ask you something during lunch, and then I heard some commotion over here and, since I got beat up over here once, I figured something was going down again. Then it turned out to be you and I was glad I came over to check.”

“Oh. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Looks like we aren’t so different after all, huh,” you said, giving her a little smile that she easily returned.

“Guess not. Other than the fact that you’re apparently much more intimidating than I am.”

“Nah, it’s only because I mentioned that your friends were out there. They are out there, right?”

“Probably? Still, I couldn’t have done that. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You helped me, so I’m helping you.”

Suyeon’s heart dropped a bit, and she nibbled at her lip, looking down. “Is that the only reason why?”

“What?” Your eyes were wide and confused again, and she was too nervous to meet them.

“Are you only acting like this because I’m helping you out?”

“I mean, that’s one of the reasons,” you said, squeezing her hand gently. “But it’s not the only reason. The more I get to know you, the more I like you, Suyeon.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she wished she had worn more makeup, because she knew she was blushing.

“Oh. Oh, good. ‘Cause I like you too.”

“Good. Are we good?” She looked up and met your eyes, then immediately smiled, embarrassed.

“Yeah, we’re good. Um, you were going to ask me something?”

“Oh! Yeah! I still kind of owe you, in a lot of ways. I also want to make up for the fact that I said mean things about you the first time we met. So I thought I’d invite you out to ice cream. My treat.” You tugged nervously at your backpack with your free hand. “Sorry if that sounds too weird or anything, I’m not good at this stuff.”

She couldn’t help laughing, and you looked a little nervous until she squeezed your hand and moved in a little closer. “I’m not good at this stuff either. But I’m down for ice cream. Is it a date?” Your face flushed, but you were smiling.

“If you want it to be.”

“Then it’s a date. Call me!” She went to move away but you kept hold of her hand, stopping her.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry-.” She pulled out her phone, flushed to her ears as you did the same. “Here, put your number in my phone and I’ll put mine in yours.”

“Yeah, great. Good. Awesome.” Again, the two of you burst into laughter, and when she handed back your phone, she noticed you put a glasses emoji beside her name.

“Hey, you calling me a nerd?”

“No, I think it’s cute.” You grinned. “See you later, Suyeon.”

“See you!” She waved until you turned around, then looked down at your number in her phone and, for once, didn’t ignore the excited feeling building up in her chest. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends, even if she did know Elly was going to make a big deal out of it.

It hadn’t been perfect. It was awkward, but it was you and it was her, and that was all that mattered.