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looooooooomis · 4 years ago

Text

F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

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thechekhov · 4 years ago

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Hello! I've started learning russian a few days ago (I've managed to understand most of the alphabet, yaaayy!!) I come from a somewhat slavic country so it's not as bad as say, my monolingual friends, but it's still harsh on me. Any tips on how to understand and learn it better? And also maybe how to stay motivated in learning it?

Good job learning the alphabet! It’s really fun to be able to read another set of characters. :) But from here on out, I’m gonna disappoint you I’m afraid.

I am a native Russian speaker. Meaning I learned Russian as my L1 - my first native language. And the first rule of learning a language is “don’t ask native speakers how to learn their language”. Almost every time, they will not be able to give you any useful advice.

Why? Because people who have learned the language as babies never learned it the way YOU are learning it. To them, it was an inevitability, an instinct, something they don’t even remember doing but was essential to them. Can you imagine NOT learning a language as a child? Baby brains are wired to do nothing BUT learn languages. For a good reason, too.

[Description: Two humanoid figures are standing on either side of a baby-like figure on the flood. The figure on the left is wearing a purple dress. The figure on the right is wearing a red shirt and shorts. The baby is in light blue.

Purple dress figure: Хочешь тортик? Ползи к маме.

Red shirt figure: Хочешь чтоб я оплатил тебе универ в США? Ползи сюда.

Baby: Understanding these people is the key to my survival.]

You speak English at a native level - presumably you learned it as a child. But does that make you qualified to teach English to those who can’t speak it? Most likely not - because all you remember about learning the language is that you went to school and did some grammar drills. The truth is, you were already functionally fluent by age 6. And that experience can’t be applied to an adult learning from zero. Your learning paths will be different.

My best advice is - find someone who ALSO learned Russian as a second language and ask them. Ask them for books, for materials, for movies to watch, for podcasts to listen to, etc. Ask what helped them and what didn’t. Your source materials should be by native speakers, yes - but your advice on how to navigate those materials should be from someone like you - a person who learned as an adult.

And after you are able to understand basic conversation, THEN you should seek out native speakers and ask them to speak with you, ask for their book/movie recommendations.

As for how to stay motivated... well, this one I can help with in a general sense because I’ve learned several languages since my first one:

IMMERSE YOURSELF. GIVE YOURSELF NO CHOICE. TRAP YOURSELF IN RUSSIAN WITH NO WAY OUT BUT THROUGH.

Sounds terrifying, I know, but hear me out - learning needs a reason. We acquired knowledge to use for SOMETHING. Our brains are built to absorb info we might someday use. (I hear you all screaming ‘How are 1001 shark facts going to be useful? I don’t even live near the ocean! My brain is shit at this!’ and yes, I know, shhh, I know.) This is the reason humans are so wired to learn their first language (as per my first graphic). Essentially, you need to NEED the language, just like you did as a baby.

What I mean is, if you try to learn a language only to then use it once a week, your brain will protest that you’re wasting your time.

[Description: A torso shot of a humanoid figure is shown, with its head comically opened up like a lid, showing the brain inside. The figure is holding something written in cyrillic (Russian) up to the brain as if to hand it over.

Person: Please take this.

Brain: What?! What is that thing?

Person: It’s Russian. I wanna learn it.

Brain: ...are we USING it?

Person: Yeah, once a week for an hour!

Brain: Once?! A week?

The last panel is a closeup of a brain. Despite lacking any facial features, who angry eyebrows have materialized over it’s wrinkled forefront.]

It ain’t gonna fly. Your brain needs more motivation, even if the motivation is fake. What I mean by Immersion is not ‘move to siberia’ although that’s certainly an option.

What I mean is - force yourself to watch your favorite netflix shows ONLY in Russian. Force yourself to watch soviet cartoons before bed (it’s good for your heart.) Even if you don’t understand anything, listen to Russian podcasts. Read Russian children’s books. Have pretend-conversations with yourself while cooking. Write post-it notes in Russian. Change your phone to Russian.

Fool your brain into believing that this is information that WILL be here to stay and your brain will oblige you the data space.

But seriously - don’t ask me. I have no idea how I got here!

#sstars-and-nebulas #chekhov anwers #russian #linguistics #language #langblr #i chose торкик #which is why i had to pay through uni by myself #and my bio dad is no longer around #:(#lol jk

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vixenpen · 4 years ago

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Could we get a Tenya Iida rq where we’re the class baddie/trouble maker of the class that purposely picks on him and doesn’t follow his guidelines to the point he snaps and puts us in our place in one of the empty classrooms??? 😏

OOOF BABYYYY 🥴🥴 that’s hot! As soon as I saw that, I knew I needed to do it!

Iida x Bad girl Reader

Ok so you been had a crush on Iida since your first year.

Just something about nerdy boys who were sticklers for the rules appealed to the bad girl in you

It didn’t hurt that he was a cutie and buff af

Over the years, you had always found ways to antagonize him

“Y/n! Stop defacing school property, this instant!” ⬅️↙️➡️↘️↗️➡️

“Oh what you mean like this?” Only to walk over to his desk and prop your feet up on his.

“Alright everyone! Let’s make a calm, single file line towards—“

“LAST ONE TO THE BUS SITS NEXT TO IIDA!”🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

“Y/N!!!!”

Over the years you’d done any and everything to bug Iida. Painting your nails in class, wearing your blouse buttoned to low, throwing paper balls at his head, and doing your makeup in the hallway

But as the two of you got older and entered your 4th year, your teasing got bolder and bolder along with your crush on Iida.

After all, you’d watched him grow more confident and self assured not to mention more buff

He was still a major nerd, but he had gotten some swag on him and mellowed out over the years

“Y/n, come on,” he sighed exhaustedly, “get off my desk. You know the rules.”

“Boo,” you pouted, “here I was hoping you’d compliment my new socks. Oh well.” You make sure to let your legs fall apart giving Iida a nice little peep show as you hop of his desk

You can practically see baby boi’s brain shut down as he mouth drops a little

😉 “see you Mr. president.”

Oh and he had upgraded to Mr. President over the 4 years too.

“Aright class, we all got the protocols for tonight?”

“Yup!”

Looks at you specifically: “y/n?” 🤨

“Why are you targeting me specifically?!”

Cuz he knows you’ll be the one to break the rules, which you do...

“Y/n!”

“Oh hey, Mr. President. What’s up?”

“Do you remember the rules that were established regarding the new schedule?”

“Hmm. Vaguely...why?”

“Well, it would seem not seeing as how you still broke the curfew that was set and missed the meeting time. This isn’t a game, y/n! We are trying to prepare for the biggest test of the year.”

With a coy pout you said: “Aww, I’m sorry, Mr. President.”

You ran a finger up his broad chest, and felt him stiffen under your touch. Your long, manicured nail trailed up his bobbing Adam’s Apple until it rested under his chin and leaned into his face.

“I promise to be a good girl next time, ok?”

You could see the muscle in his jaw flexing. There was a hard edge in his deep blue eyes and a nervous flush in his cheeks.

With a wink, you giggled and stepped around him; only to feel yourself being yanked back.

You let out a squeal of surprise

Iida had pulled you into one of the empty classrooms. He slammed the door behind you two and shoved you against it with both hands on either side of your head.

“Iida, what the hell?”

“You don’t take me seriously do you, y/n?”

“What?”

“Ever since we became classmates you’ve teased me and defied my leadership, despite it being what’s in the best interest of the class. Why? Why are you constantly messing with me, specifically.”

“Tch, don’t be so sensitive Mr. president. That’s just our dynamic,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

“Oh, so our dynamic includes you sitting on my lap, flashing your pussy at me, and kissing me on the cheek?”

You felt a flush climb up your neck. Shit...he had you there.

“I-I’m just teasing you, Iida, you know—“

“Bullshit, y/n. What is it really about?” He grabbed your jaw, and leaned closer to you.

Shit...

Damn your body for betraying your cool girl facade. You felt a heat between your legs at this sudden switch in Iida. This domineering demeanor in the usually high strung dork.

“Do you like humiliating me?” His voice was a harsh, whisper against your ear.

You shivered.

“Making me feel powerless? Small? Flustered?”

His mouth trailed further down the more he spoke. He didn’t even sound like his usual self.

“I-ida what are—“

“Mr. President,” he corrected. “You Refer to me as Mr. President. That’s our dynamic, right?” He mocked.

You were getting wetter by the second. Shit.

“Mr. President then.” You sqeauked. “What are you doing?”

His navy eyes were back on you. The look he gave you was raw desire.

“I’m testing something, y/n.”

You gasped as Iida’s other hand slowly slipped up your thigh and beneath your skirt.

His fingers brushed the juices pooling between your pussy lips.“You’re wet,” he groaned and so did you.

“We’re you wet like this when you were sitting on my desk? And you better address me properly when you answer.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” You moaned.

He moaned again, this time his mouth found yours. The kiss was sloppy and hungry, but damn was it hot.

When he pulled back, you saw every bit of that hunger in his face. “You really are the baddest girl in the class as you say. Since you’re so bad, how about I teach you lesson, hm? Y/n.”

You nodded weakly. “Ok Mr. President.”

In a flash he had you bent over the teacher’s desk, skirt hiked up to reveal your round ass.

His long, thick fingers stroked in and out of your gripping pussy as he brought you to the edge only to leave you hanging again.

“Now tell me again, what time are our meetings?”

You panted and pleasure surged through you, sealing your legs and dulling your usually sharp mind.

“S-s-seveennn thirty.”

His fingers flexed towards your gspot.

“Ohh god!” You gasped at the electrifying sensation. “Thank you M-Mr. Pre-ahh-sident.”

“Now, is there a written portion of the test?” Iida asked.

All the while he was still pummeling you’re clenching walls with his hand. You could feel your juices spilling down your legs.

“Ohh fffuckkkk, no, M-Mr. President.”

Smack!

“Aha!” You cried as the sting settled in the delicate skin of your ass. Your punishment for guessing the wrong answer.

“It’s ok, y/n,” you noted the slightly smug tone in Iida’s deep voice. “I’ll drill it into you. You’ll know who to thank when you pass your test, won’t you, y/n?”

His voice sounded hazy through your blissed out senses, but you still gathered enough energy to murmur a weak: “Yes Mr. President.”

((Ooh bitch I snapped on this one I’m DIGGING Iida x Bad girl reader))

#bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha headcanons #my hero academia #black writers #bnha #my hero fanfic #bnha scenarios #bnha smut #black women writers #iida tenya #iida smut #iida x you #bblu #bad girl #good boy

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years ago

Text

serpentine — kozume kenma

4.2k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: cursing | pairing: kenma x f!reader

↪︎ in which nekoma’s new manager captures their setter’s attention

a/n: this was requested by an anon but i accidentally deleted the ask 💀 this wasn’t proofread btw since i’m posting this hella late (atp none of my works are anymore lmao) anyway, the ending is uhh... not good

it takes up to ten seconds for your brain to realize it’s making a decision. you weren’t sure how it all happened considering it didn’t feel like it took ten seconds, and yet somehow, in some way, you agreed to the offer. it was no lingering doubt in your head that you could very well have answered due to the way the third-year manager (all ready to graduate in a few months notice) was looming over you. the look on their face drenched in optimism and a coaxing smile. you liked to think you were a generous person and you couldn’t have possibly said no.

"thank you so much, (y/l/n)!” your upperclassman exclaimed, eyes widening in a bright blithe as they held you at your shoulders and shaking you. “you totally saved my ass getting beat by coach nekomata! see you after school!”

that’s when it dawned at you. were you seriously going to become nekoma’s newest manager for the volleyball club when you had zero knowledge on the sport let alone know how to properly manage a team full of towering individuals? your jaw was basically on the floor as you attempted to plead something back to their current manager, yet nothing was coming out.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

you slumped back at your desk, face still in awe as you couldn’t help but almost felt betrayed by your own selfish mouth that spoke before you could even fathom the task. a sigh escaped you when lunch came to an end and lessons came back in session.

it was no lie that you didn’t really pay attention much in class in the first place. you had a tendency to space out and daydream from time to time with thoughts that serpentine from one idea to the next. however, at one point all you could ever think about was the inevitable doom of having to go to the gym in just a few hours time.

the feeling wasn’t enough to cause an onset sensation of suffocation from nerves, but it was just rather unpleasant knowing that these volleyball jocks would be part of your daily life now.

like a plucked flower petal, your body stood from your seat the moment the final bell rang through the echoing hallways. as if you were moving on autopilot, you hadn’t even noticed how fast you were treading through the hallways. perhaps your nerves were the fuel to your fire as you forced yourself to slow down and mingle into the lightly crowded corridors. perhaps you were glad that your classroom was on the other side of campus from the gymnasium.

you were taking your sweet time and surely they would understand if you were a little late right? granted, it was all too last minute and who knows if you had plans after school or not. spoiler: you didn’t, but that’s beside the point.

at one point, you’ve concluded that you were still walking too fast on your way to the gym despite going at a snail’s pace. it didn’t matter either way as your honey-coated eyes had fallen over the doors of the gym. the right door remained shut while the left was wide open, letting sounds of squeaking sneakers, bouncing white volleyballs, and shouts emitted from the building.

your pace came to a halt just a few feet shy of the door. your hand clutching at your bag’s strap as you waited for a few beats to pass. you weren’t sure what you were waiting for, yet standing there felt like a safer bet more than anything.

“oh there you are, (y/l/n)!” a voice called out to you in the midst of your personal speculation. this forced your attention up to them as you gave them a meek smile. “don’t be shy, come in! let me introduce you to the boys.”

they grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you inside the gym as you shook your head. “uhh, you really don’t have to. i can meet them all later, everyone seems busy right now.”

“don’t be silly!” they wave their hand off like it’s nothing. you follow them to the sidelines of the court, eyes scanning the gym out of instinct—you’ve heard about the many horror stories of those who stopped by and ended up being the target of an oncoming volleyball. a broken nose was definitely the last thing you wanted.

your head turned from watching the volleyball players do their drills as you stopped in front of two bickering individuals. the shorter one with copper brown hair points an accusatory finger at the boy in front of him, the tip of his finger barely reaching the top of the other’s shoulder as he ran a hand through his gray hair. “i swear to god lev, if i hear another word from you i will—”

nekoma’s manager clears their throat.

“oh shit—ha, hey mizuhara.” so that’s their name, you thought. the shorter one greets with a smile, expression all normal as if a complete stranger didn’t just witness him yelling at his teammate.

mizuhara only scoffs, “you’ve always been one for first impressions, yaku, which is why i brought our new manager here in the first place, but i suppose i came at the wrong time.”

“this is our new manager?” the taller one then cuts in, completely pushing away yaku as if his shorter stature weighed like nothing. there was a swift kick in his step as he approached you closer, sticking his hand out for you to shake. man, was this guy tall. “i’m haiba lev, it’s nice to meet you!”

you shook his hand, nodding, “(y/l/n) (y/n).” you introduced before turning towards the poor volleyball player that was pushed out the way.

“yaku morisuke,” he answers without missing a single beat, “i’m nekoma’s libero—”

“that’s why he’s short!” lev interjects and yaku gives him a poisonous look.

you bite back a smile as the libero continues, “don’t be fooled by the height, though, i’m most likely older than you anyway and you look like the type to actually respect your senpais, unlike this guy.” yaku pokes lev.

“are you a third-year?” you ask curiously to which he nods.

“he thinks he can boss me around just because i’m only a first year, but the only one who can give me orders around here is coach and kuroo.” says lev with a smirk that radiated provocation. this seems to be a normal thing between the two of them.

“speaking of which,” mizahara chimed in, head turning towards the courts as your irises scanned for a specific person. “where’s kuroo? i obviously have to introduce our new manager to the team captain.”

“i think he’s still in the locker room talking with the coaches. i’ll go get him,” yaku muttered over his shoulder before walking away.

silence then ensued the trio like a wet blanket, nothing but the lingering sounds of volleyballs thudding against the glazed wooden floors and squealing rubber. everyone in the gym didn’t seem to be too phased by your presence and if they were, they were probably just too preoccupied with their own practice to even spare a single glance.

“so...” lev starts, teetering his weight back and forth as you look up at him. “you’re a second year, right?” you nod, words not wanting to come out. “cool. do you have a boyfriend—or a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re into. i don’t judge!” he laughs then, somehow easing your unease.

“stop asking such personal questions, lev.” a voice calls out from behind him, treading lightly towards you.

the first year shrugs innocently, “i was just curious, cap.”

“yeah, yeah,” kuroo waves him off, “go practice before i double your drills.”

lev nods, “yessir.” before dipping away.

kuroo then gives you a welcoming smile, one that feels quite genuine as his coaches appear behind him. “i’m guessing you’re our new manager in training, right? i’m kuroo if you don’t already know, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduced yourself yet again, repeating the gesture to coach nakomata and coach naoi. they both radiated a calming, yet serious energy that you weren’t sure to be intimidated by. yet at some point, you shouldn’t even be thinking of such thing considering you would working with them for the rest of the school year and the year after that.

“here, i’ll call the rest of the team over to meet you.” kuroo suggests, his arm already waving everybody down before you could retaliate. “gather ‘round, we have someone you guys have to meet!”

his shout was accompanied by coach nekomata’s shrieking whistle, capturing the attention of the rest of the volleyball team as the sounds of hands impacting the white leather came to a halt.

perhaps that forgotten tingling of nerves had hit you right in the chest like a train the moment all their eyes fell on you. this was not it.

“a girl!” one of them exclaims, hair styled in a strange curly mohawk that charged his way towards you.

“jesus, take it easy yamamoto.” one with a darker complexion and buzzcut says, throwing you a pitiful smile as if to say ‘i’m sorry.’

“sorry, kai...”

you held back a bit of laughter behind your hand.

“everyone, this is (y/l/n) (y/n), she’ll be our team’s new manager.” coach naoi motions towards you, bag strap still clutched within your hands that your knuckles were turning alabaster. “please take care of her well.”

as kuroo opened his mouth to speak, the same one who shouted earlier—yamamoto, you think—cuts in again and says, “are you dating anyone?”

lev laughs from the back of the group, “i already asked her that!”

“but i still want to know!”

“please be respectful or i’m stealing your kneecaps while you sleep.” mizuhara deadpans before motioning for kuroo to speak.

the obsidian-haired captain rolled his eyes in amusement as he began introducing each member of the team one by one, “i don’t want you guys bombarding (y/n), so i’ll introduce you guys myself.” cue yamamoto groaning in disappointment, “the one that keeps asking you such personal questions is yamamoto, our wing spiker.” to which the same man salutes you and gives you a wink. “then there’s kai nobuyuki, our vice-captain. teshiro tamahiko, our pinch server. fukunaga shohei, our other wing spiker. lev and yaku, which you’ve already met. and kozume kenma, our setter.”

your eyes had landed on each and every one of them before abruptly stopping on the last one called. you knew of kenma and his familiar yellow-blond hair. granted, you were in the same year, but he was in a different class and just didn’t really have any interactions besides that one time you two had cleaning duty last year and had to take out the trash together.

the last time you remember him, he was quiet and didn’t speak much, yet there was always a charm within him that had you drawn to him from the start. it was a shame you two never really had a chance to get close.

you wonder if he still remembers you.

meanwhile, the moment your gaze landed upon him, kenma couldn’t help but choke back the rising lump forming in his throat. he surely never thought you two would meet again like this.

the last time he remembers you, you had quite the allure within the way you spoke so nicely. he recalls the way you two first met last year where he offered to take out your trash bag so you wouldn’t have to do work, but you utterly refused. your kind actions stuck with him and despite not being one to talk much in the first place, he couldn’t bring himself to ever speak knowing your lasting presence overran his nerves like a high wire.

kenma’s thoughts are interrupted by a pat on his shoulder, heavy and weighted. his looks over to kuroo’s giving him a sly side-eye as a smirk melted upon his best friend’s visage.

“everyone, go back to practice,” kuroo commands, “mizuhara will take care of the rest.”

a chorus of discernable groans and ‘yessirs’ erupted in the gym as the hoard of volleyball players turned their backs towards you. everything seemed to be back to normal the way the echoing sounds of a run-of-the-mill practice was back in session. and despite the attention no longer being on you (thank goodness), there was still an inkling in your chest of someone’s eyes lingering as you looked back to mizuhara.

“that’s the girl, isn’t it?” whispers kuroo to kenma, practically scaring him out of his unbeknownst trance that was stuck on you.

the setter didn’t answer right away as he twirled the volleyball in his hand, eyes searching the bronze floorboards below him to find an answer he knew he couldn’t find. “it is,” he sighs.

kenma didn’t like lying, anyway.

you weren’t sure how it really happened. you supposed it was just mere fate or purely the universe throwing you a bone that within two weeks of being nekoma’s newest manager, that you would somehow, someway, found yourself glued to kenma’s side for the majority of the day.

it first started off like this: normal. nothing much had changed to your daily school life besides the fact that you stay after school every day for volleyball practice now, but that’s was beside the point. It continued on like this for a few days, until your scanning gaze over the practicing volleyball players almost always ended up stopping on kenma.

it didn’t matter what he was doing at the time whether he was sweating his ass off playing a practice game or simply staying on the sidelines, body hunched over with his dyed hair falling over his face as he played his video game.

unbeknownst to you, though, your stares were everything but discrete. kenma had always been quite skilled at hiding his emotions and looking nonchalant as possible. either that or he just had no filter whatsoever—there was no in between.

at first, the attention would always send his heart spiraling out of control. you were always on the other side of the gym when this happens, and he’s glad for that fact considering you couldn’t have seen the way his hands shivered slightly at the way you looked at him.

don’t even get him started on the way his usual patience ran lower and lower the more his teammates flirted with you. from yamamoto’s blatant disregard of your crystal clear unease to lev’s constant presence around you, had affected kenma more than he had hoped.

god, he hated feeling this way, and yet it was addicting that why you still looked at him regardless.

perhaps it was the only reason why he started reciprocating your sly glances to vie for your attention—granted, he already had it.

the subtle linking of your gazes eventually turned into smiles across the court to kenma finally getting the courage to walk up to you after practice. the sky was dim, shrouded by the last few sunrays of the setting sun as he offered to stay behind to help clean up. usually, he would be one of the first ones to leave the gym with kuroo by his side to walk home, but it didn’t take much for his best friend to know what he was up to.

you were folding up one of the volleyball nets at one end to which the setter reached for the other. he folded along the lines, eventually meeting you halfway to which you could say that’s where it all started.

the blossoming of a new friendship.

something about the way you two complimented each other so much, that the moment you two even started talking, it felt like two old friends reuniting. you felt at home with kenma and he liked being by your side.

you supposed that sensation of familiarity you found in kenma led to your days of shy glances to each other turned into eating lunch together to even walking side by side to practice. you both had a knack for being seen with each other to often, that people started to suspect things. from your classmates to the rest of nekoma’s volleyball team did they tread lightly around the subject. it wasn’t like it was any of their business anyway, but good gossip is always entertaining.

“can you please help me beat this level, kenma?”

“absolutely not,” the setter deadpanned, flicking you a tired look as you two neared the opposing school’s gym.

poor kuroo was third-wheeling a few feet behind you.

the night prior, you and kenma stayed up until the sunlight’s orange hues teased away the shadow of the moon, the quiet night in suburban tokyo was filled with your laughter through your gaming headsets. you two stayed up all night playing video games or simply just talking the night away, bridging over the same gap that had already been filled. surely, it was a terrible idea considering kenma literally had a game the next day, but his only excuse was hanging out with you was much better than wallowing in nervous thoughts, so he digresses.

“why not?” you gasp with offense written over your face as clear as day.

kenma shrugs, “maybe after we win this game, i’ll help you beat it.”

you hum in response, tucking your phone back into your windbreaker as you felt the rush of air-conditioned cold air breeze through your hair. approaching the benches, you quickly greet the opposing team’s manager and coach before situating yourself back to nekoma’s side of the court. mizuhara was already in the process of taking out the empty water bottles and placing them into holders to fill them up.

“i’ll help with that,” you offer as you had already picked up a bottle, but mizuhara waved you away with a smile.

“no, no, i’ll take care of this. you can start telling the boys to get changed and have them gather around coach nekomata.” they say, feet already trailing out towards the water fountains as you nod.

your hand scratched the nape of your neck as you turned towards the boys, mouth opening to speak and yet they seemed to already be one step ahead of you. their red tracksuits were already off and stuffed into the deep ends of their duffle bags—it was obvious with the way their bags bulged from the crammed clothing items.

a sigh leaves your lips, shrugging to yourself as it seemed like there wasn’t much to do when the majority of the things were sorted out already. sitting atop the courtside bench, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, typing in your password as you immediately opened up your game. the real game wasn’t going to be starting for the next ten minutes anyway, surely there was enough time to attempt to beat a level within that time span.

your hands gripped the sides of your phone with eyes focused to each detail the flashing graphics shined upon your face. you were so caught up within your own little world, that the ambient sounds of talking murmurs and approaching footsteps bled together.

kenma clears his throat before dropping onto the bench next to you. he peered over to your screen for a second, almost laughing at how much he had rubbed off on you. he feigned himself from scoffing at the way you hadn’t even acknowledged him, but he couldn’t you. it was technically his fault for introducing you to this game. besides, you looked so adorable with the way you would bite your lip whenever you were at the verge of dying.

you groaned, dropping your arms in defeat as you pouted towards him, “i died again.”

“i can see that,” he amused. rolling your eyes at the look he gave you, you rested your elbows upon your thighs again as you reset the level. however, before you resume on playing, the setter swiftly snatched your phone out of your hand.

for once he had to help you with this one.

“watch and learn, (y/n).”

you huffed at his cockiness, resting your chin upon kenma’s shoulder.

usually, he would find himself tensing at your contact, but lately, he’s been treasuring these little moments with you. kuroo would often catch himself off guard whenever he finds kenma cozying up to you like a kitten. this was definitely not something he would usually do unless of course, it’s for someone he is absolutely in love with. it was obvious the way kenma tried so hard to hide his feelings, yet still failing despite the nonchalant exterior.

if only you two just confessed to each other already, this would’ve been easier on literally everyone here.

kenma seemed pretty confident—so incredibly sure that he would beat this level for you that you couldn’t help but find it the tiniest bit attractive... okay maybe a lot. from the way his fingers intricately worked at the game as if it was second nature. you wondered how in the hell he plays so well, but the hours he puts into gaming was no surprise. within minutes, he had already beat the level.

“holy shit!” you exclaimed in excitement as you pulled yourself off of him, grabbing your phone to look at the ‘VICTORY!’ screen just to make sure it was legit.

the setter couldn’t help but feel the ends of his lips tug into a small smile as he admired the glow in your eyes. he liked it when you looked like this—grinning as if you were an absolute maniac with sugarcoated teeth of saccharine.

you beamed at him, “you’re amazing.”

there is was again, his rapid beating heart causing an avalanche between kenma’s lungs. he couldn’t get used to the way you make him feel. it still felt like the same rising warmth that hugged him like a bear whenever you would praise him or let out a slick laugh. he really liked your laugh. he discovered that about himself the first time he made you giggle over your first discord call together. it sounded like a forgotten epiphany finally finding itself back to him that he wanting to make you laugh again and again. even though the low-quality grain of the microphone, it was enough to ease his yearning to just hold you within his arms.

hearing you laugh over a call was one thing, but it hit differently in real life.

“yeah, right,” kenma scoffs, almost unconvinced. he leans over a bit more, his shoulder touching yours as he tapped a few buttons on your screen. his expression was almost unfazed as you continued staring at him. “you don’t mean that.”

kenma looks back up at you. his lips purse together, forcing the lump forming in his throat when he noticed how close your faces were. his eyes flickered over your features, memorizing them as if this was his last time ever seeing your face. for a brief moment, you felt your heart stop again and again. it punched against your ribcage with such brutal force, you swore kenma could’ve heard it.

you chuckled nervously, taking a deep breath as the words spilled out of your mouth. “i don’t lie to people i have feelings for.”

it ended up being softer than you thought it was. you supposed it was the way you were so careful to approach kenma’s lips, slowly and gently, just in case he wanted to pull away. in fact, you did expect him to pull away no matter embarrassing it may have been. there was such a pouring downfall within you that maybe you were okay with that possibility of him rejecting your kiss if it meant that there was a chance he might return it.

his lips were like velvet when he kissed you softly. even if it was a brief moment of vulnerability, you were both aware of how inappropriate it was to kiss not only your closest friend, but a member of your team just minutes before a game.

you pulled away then, hands slapping over your cheeks to hide the crimson red blush that suspended itself all the way up to your ears. kenma looked just the same, but he simply looked away.

you prayed that the rest of the guys did see—but they did.

kuroo saw it first, having to do a double-take the moment you pulled away from kenma. honestly, no one would’ve noticed if yamamoto’s loud ass shout didn’t echo throughout the gymnasium. as if your sudden humiliation moved like a domino-effect, jumping from one person to another.

you pushed yourself off the bench, hoping your hair would cover your tomato-colored face as you excused yourself to the bathroom.

right as your figure left the gym, the boys immediately ran towards kenma, still in a dazed state. the poor setter’s lips still buzzed from the kiss no matter how short it was. it still sent flickers of electricity through him as kai shook his shoulder.

“since when were you and (y/n) a thing?” he questioned quite loudly.

he acted as if kenma even knew the answer to that. if anything, he was just glad that he was saved by the buzzer as the game was to start. he let out a sigh as he scanned all of his teammate’s expressions, pushing himself off the bench. “don’t look at me like that.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma scenarios #kenma imagines #kenma oneshot #kenma fluff #hq kenma

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crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping a Secret - Prologue

plot: ehehe lemme leave this blank for now as this is only a prologue genre: fluff, crack, slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, angst at some point wc: 2.7k

[a/n]

I am reeling just from finishing this one because Tsukki is my boy (Kuroo ily too i swear)

Who writes 2.7k words of prologue? lol me

I’ll set up the masterlist when I’m done with the 1st Chapter.

Thank you so much @oii-sugasan and @haikyuu-is-for-lovers for the betaread! :)

Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Chapter 1 || masterlist

You aren’t just annoying. You’re a fucking menace. Every time he goes to the gym, your presence is like a plague. You're just a manager, but sometimes he thinks that you think you’re the assistant coach. There’s nothing he’d love more than to shower you with the nastiest, most off-handed comments, just to shut you up and wipe the cheery grin that taunts him every time he sees you.

Seriously, you’re all over the place -- you talk to all members of the team as if you’re a player yourself, you nag everyone to take care of themselves outside training like you’re their older sister, you hand out self-gathered information on upcoming matches as soon as matchups are announced, you scamper around the gym tossing balls, assembling the net, doing whatever the hell you can get your hands on, all the while wearing those stupid shorts that distract the majority of the team, especially the new members.

As his eyes follow you, you suddenly turn around to face him, breaking him from his reverie. Even when you’re halfway across the gymnasium, he can see the sharp playfulness that you always exude whenever you talk to him.

“Tsukishima!” You wave at him with that disgustingly sweet grin. “If you’re done staring at my sexy back, you can start your blocking drills, okay?!” you shout with a voice loud enough for everyone else in the gym to hear. Tsukishima feels multiple sets of eyes glance towards his direction and he ‘tsks’ in annoyance under his breath.

He immediately walks away. He refuses to hear more of the unnecessary and untrue prattles directed at him by you.

He hears footsteps follow him. Judging from its pace and heavy strides, he already knows its Kogane without even looking

“Oi, Tsukki. Do you like our manager?”

He doesn’t understand why Kogane is whispering when you’re half a court away from them. More than that, he doesn’t understand why Kogane assumes he likes you. For one, you were wrong: he wasn’t even staring at you. He was staring randomly at nothing while thinking about how irritating you are and you just happened to be at his line of sight.

“I don’t see anything to like about her,” he replies passively.

“What? Why? She’s super helpful -- and pretty too.” Kogane, just like the rest of the team, believes so. Even Kyoutani is fond of you because of that one time you received his spike on full force. You rolled on your back from the sheer power of it but you were able to receive it perfectly, making the whole team go wild when you did, with him as the only exception as he found it inane.

“If you think so, go confess or something then.”

“You know we can’t!” Pink stains begin to surface on his teammate’s cheeks, obviously infatuated with you. Then again, this is not new to him. It was a basic reaction from anyone whose dick is more functional than their brain. Maybe it’s because you’re the only female so close to everyone else. Honestly, he really doesn’t know. But one thing’s for sure. Kogane has 0 chances with you, and neither does every player of Sendai Frogs.

He remembers the conceitedness you displayed even in your first year as a manager. You two became part of the team almost at the same time. He was two months in when the former manager introduced you to the team. As she finished introducing you, you whispered to her to add something. It went something like ‘oh, umm. y/n-chan also said that no one from the team can’t date her.’ Even the former manager looked at you weirdly but you were just there beaming as you bowed to everybody.

They thought it was a joke, but when you became a full-pledged manager in less than six months, you announced it yourself.

‘I know I’m kind of cute, but I won’t ever consider dating anyone from the team. Okay?’

You announce it with a sickening smile every time there are new members, reminding everyone else that you’re untouchable.

It’s fucking atrocious, to him at least. Unlike the other players from his team, he’s not shallow enough to fancy you just because you’re not disgusting to look at, or that you did your managerial duties so exceedingly well.

He grits his teeth. He hates it. How can someone so chaotic as you be so effective in managing the team. What grinds him even more is that you go to the same university he does, and even there, your presence stinks. He once had a class with you only to find out that you’re not as dumb as you make yourself out to be.

It’s infuriating. He can’t wait for the day you mess up -- only then would he finally get the chance to diss you. He’ll turn that shit-eating smile of yours upside down.

Man, nothing boosts your mood better than bugging Tsukishima. When you felt his sinister stare boring at your back earlier, you just couldn’t waste the opportunity to say something about it. He just ignored you, but the scowl on his face was enough response to satisfy you.

The truth is, you have nothing against Tsukishima. Yeah, he has a sharp tongue and a vile attitude, but hey, he’s a good team player. He doesn’t speak much, but he gets shit done in matches. Despite his foul personality, he’s actually manageable: he listens to you and he rarely shows up late. He’s not particularly motivating to look at, but he still does what’s asked of him. For some reason that you don’t know, he still hasn’t spat out his usual, rancid remarks towards you. You know he’s itching to, and honestly, you’re kind of curious of what he’ll throw your way.

Still, for the last three years he kept his mouth shut even though he looks at you like you’re the most unpleasant being he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Y/n!”

You jog towards the team coach, Coach Mira. “Yes, Coach?”

“Do you like Tsukishima?” she asks curiously. The question is funny to you but you hold back the laughter and smile instead.

You like Coach Mira a lot. She’s more like an older sister than a coach to you. You’re free to share a few laughs with her, and she values your input to the team. Maybe it’s because you’re both women drowned in a sea of male athletes that you sort of have that innate connection.

“No, Coach. Why?”

“Cause you pay attention to him the most.”

“I don’t see what’s to like about him,” you veer your gaze towards his direction, watching his scowling face as he walks away, Koganegawa following closely behind him. You can’t hear them, but the sight is already amusing as it is. “I just like putting him in place whenever he’s being extra nasty,” you add.

“If you say so, y/n. Honestly, I don’t really care if you go out with one of them.”

You wave your hand back and forth like you’re swatting a fly. “No way, Coach. They’re like little boys I’m taking care of.”

She sweeps her gaze behind you, scanning all the players present in the court. “Can’t say they feel the same way though.” Then she looks at the same person you’re looking at. “Well, maybe except for Tsukishima.”

“That’s why I like messing around with him the most,” you admit with mirth as you watch Tsukishima get away from Kogane.

Everyone in the gymnasium is staring as they enter the arena. If there’s one thing opposing teams remember about the Sendai Frogs, it’s their female tandem of a stone-cold coach and a ‘hot,’ bubbly manager who walk side by side in front of the whole team, not the players.

It’s not really an issue for Tsukishima. He doesn’t really care. Shimizu had the same reputation back in high school. But you? You’re not Shimizu. You aren’t even close.

And you, being the chaotic mess that you are, you milked the attention. Whenever someone blatantly gapes at you, you’d wave at them. You’d even entertain those who openly flirted with you. In retrospect, he should find it despicable. Rather finds it entertaining. So does the rest of the team.

When the Sendai Frogs reach their spot, a guy wearing a Tamaden Elephants jersey approaches you shamelessly. A brave (maybe a little bit foolish) act, considering you’re with the whole team.

“Hi!”

You turn around and greet him just as enthusiastically, maybe even more.

“I just want to say, great game from last season, he says as he scratches the back of his head.

Liar.

If the guy really wants to acknowledge the team’s play from last season, he’d approach one of the players. He also wouldn’t have that stupid blush on his awe-struck face.

“Thank you! Great game indeed,” you return the compliment.

As soon as the guy starts fidgeting, Tsukishima can already guess what comes next: it’s either a date or your number.

“If you don’t mind, can I get your number?”

Tsukishima sneers at how predictable the scene is, and he can’t wait to see what comes next.

You beam at the guy. “Sure! It’s number 1.”

He still smiles even though he’s obviously dumb-founded. “Sorry, what?”

“My number, right? It’s 1. Cause we’re number 1 in the district,” You say with that fake innocence that isn’t really fooling anyone.

“...Uhh.”

“Go Sendai Frogs!” You cheer out of the blue and as if an automated response, the rest of the team, even Tsukishima (though lifelessly), answers.

“Sendai Frogs fight!”

The loud baritone of deep male voices drew the attention of other people in the area, brightening your face up even more as you focus on the guy in front of you again. He looks scandalized by what just happened.

“How about you? What’s your number?” you ask, pushing the guy to a mental corner as Tsukishima and his team glares at him while waiting for how he’ll answer. An embarrassed blush replaces the previously infatuated one as he realizes that he shouldn’t have made the mistake of hitting on you.

“I-I’m not really sure,” his voice loses any shred of confidence it once had.

“Oh. That’s too bad,” you feign sympathy.

“Yeah.” The guy looks down. “Guess I’ll see you around,” he adds before retreating defeatedly.

“Bye! Nice to meet you,” you wave cordially. ‘Whoever you are, newbie elephant,’ you say to yourself as you watch the unfamiliar member of the Elephants go back to his team, a team you wiped the floor with last season.

Until now, you don’t understand why people still even bother. You welcomed the flirtations, but never really went out with anybody. You’re not really opposed to getting in a relationship, but like -- Gooood! They’re all so uninteresting. Rejecting them is more fun than the mere prospect of dating them.

You feel a familiar touch on your shoulder.

“Good job boosting the team morale,” Coach Mari says in a volume that only you can hear as she pats you.

“Thanks, Coach!” You grin at her praise.

You turn around to check your players and your eyes instantly land on Tsukishima who had just put on his white headphones and began scrolling at his phone. Around him, everyone else has already started stretching.

You bounce your way to him, knowing that you’d instantly get his attention even without saying anything. But even with you ogling when you stopped in front of him, he still doesn’t budge.

“Tsukishima.”

No response.

‘Heh,’ you snicker internally. He never fails to amuse you when he tries to ignore you.

“Tsu~ ki~ shi~ ma~” You bob your head sideways, popping at the opposing sides of his phone so he’ll notice you.

You don’t miss the minute twitch of his eyes as he drags his phone closer to him in an attempt to shut you out.

Tsk tsk. He should know better by now that you're not the type to back away.

You go beside him instead, tiptoeing so you can see what he’s so busy looking at. As soon as your arms touch his, he puts down his phone and irritatedly removes his headphones.

He’s shooting daggers at you, making you giddy with excitement as he looks like he’s about to say something you. You hold his gaze with a raised eyebrow and subtle smirk that you couldn’t suppress. Did he get fed up already? Is he finally going to say something?

‘Do it. Do it. Do it,’ you chant in your head.

He takes in a painful deep breath instead. “What?” The single word contains so much disdain that you want to cackle so bad.

“Shouldn’t you be stretching?” you query.

“In a bit.”

You leisurely shake your head with disapproval. “I know you’re a lazy ass fucker sometimes,” you begin. “But you always help us win. You’re our meanest, tallest, best blocker.” Your gaze drops down to his ankles and travels up.

“So,” you continue, dropping your voice amusedly, “stretch those gorgeous, God-given, legs you have.” Your eyes linger on his thighs before landing up to his face to smile sweetly at him. “Will you?”

This is one of the moments you’re pretty sure he won’t dare talk back at you. Why? Because you’re one hundred percent right, and he knows that too.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate it.

He glares at you for one second and walks towards the rest of the team to join them.

Playing at the professional level, he always considers one match to be a big win already, even if it’s just the first match of the regular rounds. Ever since he became a starter for Sendai Frogs, he was not allowed to slack off even for one rally. He could take the lecture if it’s from Coach, but he couldn’t stomach it if it’s from you.

Even before the match started, you were already on his grill, pestering him just because he wasn’t warming up yet. He was pissed the whole game and put extra effort than usual to make sure that you won’t have anything to say after.

“Um, excuse me.” A girl from Red Rabbits blocks him on his way to the restroom. “Tsukishima, right?”

He can tell that she is trying her best to look nonchalant, but the familiar tint on her face is telling.

Tsukishima had never understood girls who approach him for anything remotely romantic. Does he look like he’s interested? It’s not that he’s not open to the idea of dating, but he finds it unpleasant when people go after him because they like how he plays. Worse, for some obtuse reason like him being ‘cute.’

“Yes. Why?”

She smiles at him bashfully with her arms crossed behind her. “I’m also a middle blocker. I was really inspired with how you read block so well. If it’s okay with you, can you teach me how you do it?”

Why would he do that? He’s already a senior college student who’s also a professional athlete. He has no reason to go out of his way to teach someone read blocking. Especially someone who’s already supposed to know it since (as she claims) she’s also a middle blocker. Judging from where they currently are, someone from Division 1 no less.

“Sorry. I’m really busy,” he says bluntly.

“Oh, okay. Sorry for bothering you.” She bows then takes off immediately.

He watches as the girl from Red Rabbits scampers off as quickly as humanly possible. Did she really think he’d agree to it?

He is too occupied to notice the faint sound of footsteps behind him, and only when you speak does he notice your presence.

“Aww, poor girl going out of her way to ask you out.”

He groans. Why are you even here? You’re supposed to be checking on the team since their match just ended.

You fall into step beside him as he brushes your comment off and continues heading for the rest rooms.

“I didn’t ask her to,” he calmly responds despite your irksome presence.

“How are you going to get a girlfriend like that?” you ask exaggeratedly as if not getting in a relationship will lead to his ruin.

“I don’t need one.”

You gasp. “Damn, Tsukishima. Men your age are all about raging hormones. Where do you put all that raging testosterone?”

He purses his lips in a corner, his jaw tensing at your remark. Men his age? You talk as if you’re older when you’re in the same year he is.

Also, what the fuck?

Now you’re nagging about his personal life too? You’re already aggravating as the team manager. Now you’re even sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.

His blatant irritation must have shown in his face because you suddenly let out a giggle. “My bad, my bad. Don’t look so scary. Geez. Where you get action is none of my business. I just followed you to let you know that we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

You turn around, about to go back but stop before you make the first step. “Oh, and we have a meeting later. I did the stat sheets of the game and gave it to the coach already. Great blocking, Tsukishima!” You pat his shoulder twice with a proud smile, then saunter off back to the arena.

Damn it. If only you aren’t so good at being a manager, he would actually be able to dislike you to the fullest. Not only that, he wouldn’t feel that silly, tiny contentment he felt upon hearing you.

Chapter 1 || masterlist

Taglist:(those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima crack #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukisima series #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack

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junova · 4 years ago

Text

↬ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract — the one where the tables are turned.

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader

wc — 1.6k

warnings — unrequited feelings, fluff, angst, teasing!steve, cussing

[m blabs] — this is not my best work but it was really fun to write! hope you enjoy nonetheless. happy reading! :’) ps this so cheesy i was in a moooooddddd pls it was fully inspired by the amazing tune love me again by raye (give it a listen she is a pure goddess)

Do you think he feels the same?” You questioned Sam as you watched Steve talk to Bucky.

He looked good enough to eat with his tight button up, muscles practically ripping into the material of his shirt.

“You could just ask him.” Sam watched as you didn’t make a movement to break your gaze away from Steve. Especially, when Sharon slithered her way right next to him.

“I could, but doesn’t mean I’m going to.” You finished the rest of your white wine before hopping off the bar stool.

“Besides, it seems like he’s going home again with her and I’ll be going home alone.” You couldn’t help but notice how she flattened her palm against his chest, pushing you into the grave.

“It’d be different if he actually knew how you felt.” Sam sighed. Genuinely he was growing tired of the ‘will they won’t they’. “You rejected him, he’s not going to go out baring his feelings if he does have them.”

“Really? That’s what you’re playing at? We were in high school.” You honestly hadn’t thought about it in years and would be surprised if he had. “Yeah, it was seven years ago but he was in love with you.”

You didn’t really like to think about it because it wasn't a version of yourself you liked to acknowledge. As much as you love Steve now, it was in a completely different way back then.

Now? It seems like the universe really, really fucking hates you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned him, while eyeing the exit. Upset you even poked the bear in the first place. “It means he wanted nothing more than to be with you and he got rejected. Shit stings no matter who it’s coming from.”

“Especially since the two of you were inseparable.” You kind of got what he was saying, but really hadn’t given it too much thought. “He had girlfriends after me. He even dated Peggy for two years.”

“Have you ever thought about why he wouldn’t commit?” Sam drilled you, trying to help you connect the very two simple dots. “Lots of people in their twenties don’t want to settle down. It’s normal.” You reasoned with him, almost like you already knew the answer.

“Yeah, but you know why he broke up with her.” With furrowed eyebrows you looked up quizzically at him.

“Weren’t you leaving, princess?” Sam’s endearing tone could have fooled anyone, but you knew what he was playing at.

And you didn’t like it one bit.

A simple, exasperated grunt directed towards Sam and you were just about stomping out of the runned down pub you couldn’t stop from requesting at.

What you didn’t notice was Steve watching your body funnel out the exit, detangling himself from Sharon making his way to you.

He didn’t reach you until you were sitting down on the wooden bench across the street. It wasn’t like you intended to stay here, especially downtown but seeing Steve be so close to her just didn’t seem better than this.

Perhaps, you were being a bit of a child. Steve loved you seven years ago, you couldn’t be mad because he moved on. No matter what Sam was insinuating you knew better.

It just really sucked your feelings only started to develop now you’d gone through a laundry list of boyfriends to realize none of them could give you what you needed. He was fundamentally better in every prospect.

“Hey, stranger.” There he was. Your knight in the darkness coming to your protection. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you beam that he’d left Sharon alone to be here with you.

“Hi, Stevie.” He was smiling wide and part of you questioned if he was just saying goodbye, too. “You alright? Sam and you seemed to be getting into it, a bit.”

Was he watching you?

“Yeah, it’s fine. Sam was just helping me with some guy trouble.” You exhaled, not wanting to get into. Obviously.

“He just wasn’t much help so I stormed off kinda pissed off. You know? The usual.” You were about to steer the conversation in another direction, but Steve didn’t want to leave it alone.

He just became more insistent.

“Maybe I can help. What’s going on?” Making his effort valid, he sat down right next to you with his thigh pressing against your own.

“C’mon, Stevie. I don’t want to bore you. Let’s just go for a walk.” You watched him think for a second, with his eyebrows raised and eyes to the sky.

“Fine. We’ll go for a walk, but we’re definitely still talking about this.” He left it alone for a bit. Until you wandered to the city park, side by side on the swings, when he brought it up again.

“Okay. Out with it, Bambi.” You looked at him defensively. “You did not just call me ‘Bambi’.” You made sure to gesture air quotes to the nickname you despised.

“It’s endearing coming from me. I promise.” You wanted to push him further, but you decided not to. “Now, lay it on me. Who fucked you over this time? Was it Owen? I never liked him anyway.”

“No, um, I broke up with him like three months ago. Where have you been?” You swung so your side bumped into his, but all Steve did was giggle.

“Too far away from you.” You tried to look anywhere but his cerulean pools. Surely, you would drown.

Especially if you analyzed his words, you might think he was coming on to you and he wasn’t. This was Steve.

“So, what’s the issue then? I thought you really into Owen. Sam said the two of you were thinking about moving in together.” He was questioning with intent, but you couldn’t sense where he was headed.

“We were at the time, but I couldn’t go through with it. I had this self-realization, I guess.” He hopped out of the swing, until he was standing in front of you. Looking down at you, with a glimmer of light in his eyes.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I hope you’d feel safe enough to know I’d never judge you for anything.” And you did know it, but it was hard to think with his body so close against yours.

“I know. It’s just hard for me to talk about.” You breathed out, trying to muster up some courage. Even if it was indirectly, you had a feeling he would pick up on it.

It wasn’t like you were going to great lengths to try and hide it.

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m one hell of a listener.” Steve grabbed you by the hand, intertwining it with his own as he tugged you off the swing and walking by his side.

Smoothly, he brought his left arm around your waist, tugging you into his side.

“It’s just, there’s a guy.”

“Hun, I figured that much.” Ironically, enough you were afraid of the rejection you had served him on a silver platter.

“I’ve never really been good at this stuff, you know. The big R. It always seems to tip south no matter what I do. Then I met Owen, and I just kept thinking this is the guy. He’s got to be it. He was sweet, kind, and committed, but something was just missing.”

God, you couldn’t back away from this now. The way Steve was gazing down at you nearly made you want to.

“Okay. Then what changed your mind?” Steve challenged you, daring you to finish.

“I had a long conversation with Sam, funnily enough. He asked me who I saw myself with five years from now and it wasn’t with Owen.” You deeply sighed, hating yourself for rejecting someone else who had been so good to you.

“Who did you see yourself with?” Steve stopped walking as you continued on, but he’s the one who didn’t miss a beat.

“What?” Oh shit. Had I said that outloud?

“You said it wasn’t Owen. Who was it then?” You felt your body run cold as you stopped with a determined Steve making his over to you.

“Oh, you know. Sam, Bucky, Nat, and You. You guys are my family.” You tried to play it off, but you weren’t too sure if he was buying it.

“Bambi, stop playing games.”

Fuck. You were screwed.

“I’m not. Some of us just don’t wear our heart on our sleeve.”

Ouch.

You knew it would sting and maybe that’s why you said it. Self sabotaging your chance with him would hurt much less than a rejection.

“Then just tell me who it was you saw yourself next to. If you don’t wear your heart out it shouldn’t matter.” He grunted out, his patience wearing thin.

“It doesn’t matter, Stevie. Leave it alone.” You pulled away from him, dashing into the other direction. Maybe you just didn’t have the guts to lay it all out there like he did.

“I love you.” You whipped around, the same puppy dog look he’s given you seven years ago etched on his face. The same one begging for reciprocation many heartbreaks later.

“You don’t.” Even if he did, you were sure you weren’t deserving of it.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was eighteen and I know it’s a lot to ask but just don’t break my heart twice, Bambi. If it wasn’t me you were talking about, we’re pretending this never happened.” Before your brain could catch up with your heart, you threw yourself into his arms.

“Never. Just love me again.” That he did.

#this was so rushed sksksks #but i havent posted in like a month so #m.writes #steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem reader #steve rogers fanfiction

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

Warnings College AU sexual and adult themes. Yall know the drill okay

Chapter 2

Bugzapper⚡💔: i have a proposition to make.

Jiro flashes Mina her phone as she sips iced coffee in the blessed air conditioning of the cafe.

"That's never a good sign." She comments, moon bright eyes glued to the phone as she thinks.

"What's not a good sign?" Uraraka asks from across the table, the two girls fill her in.

"Oh." She racks her brain on what that could be, "Okay well I'm dying to know, now."

🎵Music to my soul 🎶 : What do you want airhead?

Jiro's text sent a surge of excitement through Kaminari. It was exactly what he needed after three hours of begging and bribing Bakugou to allow the sorority in or at least invite them. His fingers fly across the screen setting up a date and time for a "meeting over lunch" to discuss the proposition in further detail.

Meanwhile across campus, you huff, eyes narrowed as a rare emotion is pulled from your fingertips in the form of deadly ice. Pulling the moisture from the air to freeze it or pulling any water towards you to keep your flank safe as your opponent rushes you at breakneck speeds.

You hated this fucking guy, cocky, brash, so God damn arrogant in the way he held himself, in the way he spoke. It made you nauseous just thinking of him.Had you known he was the male star of this university you wouldn't have transferred, yet you still needed to transfer didn't you? Anything to get out from under the shadow of a certain Todoroki.

No one cared to admit or to notice, that your quirk was different from Shoto's. You could manipulate water towards you to freeze, and manipulate whatever was already frozen. Your ice was denser and more durable than his and dare you say it colder than his too. Yet no one gave a shit, his was ice AND fire. You were just a one trick pony and a trick they already saw. Your opponent's taunting doesn't help matters much.

"I've already seen this before Ice Brat. Did ya forget where I fucking went to high school?" His hand heats the ice as he activates his quirk before three deafening blasts ring out.

As you allow him to break down the ice you act on pure rage, securing some revenge from the first time he signed your hair. Pointed icicles lie in wait and once the wall is fully down you give him a nasty smirk before sending the straight his way.

You're supposed to melt your weapons before they hit your opponent, neither of you are supposed to go all out per the professor's and college's strict rules in the athletics department but Bakugou always does. Somehow his big stupid mouth spews something that eggs you on. As if someone were shoving bamboo skewers beneath your skin, under your nails, sending you into an unheard of rage.

Normally you were as your quirk, icy, unbothered by the world but Bakugou, God you could wring his neck. Freeze his hot blood as you watch him turn into slush beneath your feet.

He expects you to abide by the rules, to splash him with glacier water but he realizes it too late. That you won't he let's off a quick blast, shattering two of the four deadly points. One grazes his cheek as he just barely dodges while the other lodges itself into his arm.

You have half a mind to twist it. You pull at his blood bringing it into your arsenal. Blood red needles and bullets surround Bakugou.

"I don't think you've seen this before.." You say darkly ready to release your hold and shred him into, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he would see how bitter and nauseating he was. He smirks, opening his mouth to retort but you send your ice his way aiming for non vital spots although the ice creeps closer to your heart begging it to hit something vital. The inside of your ice palace begins to reek of burning sugar and spice, he plans to let out an explosion to bring this whole place down from the inside out.

Just as he is about to detonate and just as the blood and ice are about to pierce skin the professor bursts into the gym.

"I step out for five minutes and this is what happens?!"

The ice and blood return to liquid splashing across Bakugou as his skin pops. The professor takes in the damage from your ice and his explosions, still better controlled than most of his other students quirks.

"I gotta stop pairing these two together." He murmurs to himself before dismissing class. With a flick of your wrist the ice fortress melts, returning to the reservoir below the gym floor, ignoring the molten glare that is sent your way.

"You're such a bitch." Bakugou growls as you pass, flinging blood from his fingers as he wipes at his face. You offer him a fake pitying smile before heading into the women's locker room.

"Fucking asshole." You hiss, forcing the sight of his garnet gaze out of your mind. Instead turning your attention to your buzzing phone in your locker. It's a few missed calls and some texts in the girl's group chat. Briefly you wonder if you ever should have joined that stupid sorority, it was small, non toxic, and would look good should you need to transfer again.

Not only did you somehow get elected the president but you also became friends with the three other ladies despite your best efforts not too.

Mins: Prez we might have a way to save the sorority...lunch after you're done with training?

IceQueen ❄: Hope it's good, the Dean already put the house up for sale. Let me get ready and I'll be there shortly.

Mina presents her phone to the crowd around her, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro and Uraraka do a small celebration. Denki more so than anyone else, he knows the combined car washes will be more than enough to fix up the house, he also recently learned that you had the power of negotiation on your side. Having just listened to Mina retell the story of how you got free food for a month from a bar for yourself and your friends. And not from some sleaze who wanted to sleep with you either, no it was from the owner himself.

Denki is hopeful and so are the ladies indicating that this may be his best idea yet.

You arrive at the small bistro early, spying your party on the front patio. The three men had seen you in person before, they knew you were easy on the eyes but up close you were breathtaking. Manicured nails but nothing gaudy, normally nude or soft shades, light makeup, mascara at most as far as they could tell and your outfit was well put together. You were what the world called plus size but everyone else called thiccc. Your confidence oozing in your light blouse tucked into your black skinny jeans, uncaring that you had a pouch.

You needed that extra fat to keep from freezing by your own quirk. The only thing you needed society to worry about was your intelligence and your power.

Both were SSR ranked so what did you fucking care that your body was ranked lower. They were stupid in thinking you'd skimp power in the name of vanity.

You recognize everyone at the table and internalize the dread you're feeling. Scheming is afoot and you're the last to arrive. You can tell by their half finished drinks and picked over appetizer, still you sit and act unaware. Denki goes to hold out his hand first for a formal introduction causing a sly cat smile to settle over your glossy lips.

"No need, I'm aware of who the three of you are. Sero we share our lingual class, Denki, our chemistry class, and Kirishima we share two classes, world studies and villain hero theory. Truly a pleasure." You tell then your name before ordering something to drink from the lingering waitress. Sitting stick straight with your shoulders backs has the men mirroring you.

"Well ladies I take it the plan to save the sorority involves these fine gentlemen." You ask coolly and they nod. After a moment of silence Mina and Denki go to speak. Awkwardly encouraging the other to speak until Minai clears her throat.

"As you know they are a newly formed frat with Sero as their president. They moved into their house about a month ago and they say it is quite large. So they have invited us to move in."

"How do you propose we ask the college to have a co-ed house? What does this fraternity home even look like?" They knew you would be quick to ask questions Mina answers the first while Denki provides the answer to the second.

"Union and Diversity. Forming close relationships now to carry over into our hero careers."

"The house needs some work but looks a lot better than what it did." Denki shows you before and after pictures as you gesture for his phone. He passes you his electric yellow case with nervous hope tingling beneath his skin. You swipe through the photos.

"You boys did a great job on the outside. Inside needs a lot of work. Hardwoods will be easy to fix, they are original but don't seen to be damaged, a good scrub will spruce them up. Wait, are those?" You zoom in on the photo of the living room, "Are those foldable camping chairs and a VHS tv?"

They gulp loudly as they nod, your purse your lips in disapproval.

"I can fix that." You pass Denki back his phone, assuming that all the roommates will be present, "I see the main focus was the kitchen but some of the appliances seem to be on their last legs. I can fix that as well."

"Soooo….So it's a yes?" Jiro asks, feeling relief for the first time in months since they received the letter of eviction.

"Gotta get the college to agree first." You think on it a moment, "But I'm sure we can arrange that. Uraraka can you draft an email to the Dean requesting an official meeting regarding our sorority? Be sure to explain in detail our situation, how we are being forced to disband by their account and the solution we have. Make sure it's an afternoon meeting too. The dean hates to miss golf with our rival university's dean."

With the plan set in motion all of you return to your evening classes. Jiro nudges Denki in the ribs, listening to his heart race from their closeness.

"When are we going to tell her about Bakugou?" She throws her almost lover a look that he seems to wither beneath. His jaw tics before he retorts.

"I think we should wait to see if this even works first."

After a week the important meeting arrives and as you thought the Dean is already exhibiting signs of impatience. He is more than ready to wrap this up and you already know his answer is going to be no. Already trying to get it out before the four of you can even have a seat.

Still you weren't the Ice Queen on campus for nothing. You saunter into the room, mineola folder filled with your copies of counterpoints pressed firmly to your chest, you can already see he doesn't have the copies you sent him. You place the folder down and open it, leafing through the pages as you speak.

"This request is going to be approved and here are the reasons why. An example of sexism could be made that a new fraternity was approved housing, new housing, after a decades old sorority was deemed "too small" both parties are similar in count. Second funding and donations are easily influenced with letters to alumni and especially by attendees to this university. My transfer from YAU has brought in revenue of roughly 2.6 million dollars, increasing your diversity for women when this is normally a male dominated school. I am aware that my transfer had even encouraged other students from YAU to transfer here. Which I'm sure is one of your favorite bragging points to tell Dean Fraunk during your weekly golf trips isn't it? So it would truly be a shame if these points would come to light in the investigation of my return to YUA just months before the university sports festival. I do look amazing in Ice Blue you know. Matches my quirk a lot better than Maroon." You put the ball in his court, he is visibly upset, eyes flying to the facts that you've presented. All important, viable facts. You were right MMU was known to be a male dominated school and the media would have a field day if they uncovered a mistake he happened to look over. Not to mention you were his main bragging point, Dean Yuzi always talked about how he had stolen you, the female star of rising heroes, from YUA. The silence in the room is amplified by the ticking of the clock, seconds accumulating into minutes as it counts down his T time with his old college buddy and rival. He gulps nervously, knowing what he has to do in order to keep both his bragging rights and a law suit under wraps. He looks up to you as you wear your stone cold face, making him think of a loan shark who hasn't been getting their payments on time. He is fearful for your future boss.

"I believe I have no choice but to approve."

"Correct." You respond, "Now we have a bit more to discuss. I noticed that classrooms 456 and 215 are being remodeled. Those gently used flat screens will be given to our house since it is technically college property. Common space 3 and 1 are being renovated in dorms A and B. We will accept the leather arm chairs as they are in good shape but we demand a new couch. I know it is in the budget as I help plan the budget. I also believe it is time for an allowance for our hybrid house." The Dean shrinks away from your tenacity, nodding as that is all he can do.

"Well this is a generous offer and should cover most of the basic necessities such as a new fridge and mattress. The aesthetic we will be raising funds for. Kindly spread the word, we don't want to take up more of your time and be late with your 'meeting' with Dean Fraunk." You place a flyer on his desk as you turn on your heel. The rest of the sorority, mouth agape following suit. Yuzi looks down at the flyer, head hung in a mixture of disbelief and shame as he reads over the neon paper advertising a co-ed car wash.

He just hopes you and Bakugou are worth the trouble.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha imagine

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imnotwolverine · 4 years ago

Text

The Accidental Family - Chapter 5

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 4 | Chap 5 How to dad | Chap 6 >

Disclaimer: fluff, sadness, memory loss, some strong language

Word count: 2.098

Author’s note: I had a home spa day and I may or may not have made WAY too many bubbles in the bathtub..which then in turn kind of floated out into our adjoining kitchen and...yea...I’m posting this to procrastinate the clean up of ..THAT. Wish me luck. 😂

(Link to my Masterlist)

It was not unusual for Henry to be up this early, and yet Phoebe was slightly surprised to find him in the kitchen, the smell of coffee searing into her nose as she was welcomed with the sight of a kitchen island crowded with paper folders and the family whiteboard scribbled full with an enormous, intricately filled out schedule.

Henry was still working on it as she quietly stepped over the threshold, her arms crossing before her bathrobe as she watched him bend down, ass sticking out as he leaned in to scribble something in the far right bottom corner.

‘Morning.’ She chimed, making Henry jerk up in surprise, his eyes looking at her like she had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

‘Whatcha doin’?’ She leaned into the kitchen island and looked at the papers that were strewn over the smooth light grey marble.

‘Oh, ehm, just ..trying to find some order in this mess.’ He shrugged and clicked the cap back onto the whiteboard marker, his fingers pushing it on the small whiteboard ledge before he fully turned towards his wife, her dazed eyes still blinking at him with mild confusion.

‘You see I found all these things you keep around. School schedules, doctor’s appointments, swimming classes, soccer, eh..you know. I wanted to have an overview.’ He shrugged, making Phoebe cry out laughing.

‘You did what now?!’

‘Wait, don’t tell me you have a schedule just like this laying around..’

‘No, no. Eh..’ Phoebe looked over at the coffee machine, deciding she’d need a cuppa before she’d dive into Henry’s findings.

‘Want some coffee as well?’

‘No, no, I’m good. Gotta keep fit, so I can get back in the saddle as quickly as possible.’ He jabbed into the air, as if ready to beat an invisible opponent.

‘Silly man.’ Phoebe chuckled, pouring some of the hot brew into a mug with a smiling elephant on it - yes suddenly Henry owned a whole arsenal of silly mugs. Squinting his eyes playfully he studied Phoebe:

‘Silly stupid or silly smart?’ Henry asked, but all Phoebe did was shrug, turning a pair of mischievous eyes at him while she sipped on her coffee.

‘Anyways. I think, if the doctor’s okay with it, I can start squeezing in office visits between Sam’s soccer practise and Piper’s speech therapy and..’

‘Hen..’ Phoebe sighed, walking up to him to brush a hand over his arm, his shirt fitting snugly around his large chest, attracting her gaze for a short moment. ‘..one step at a time okay?’

‘Yes-yes, I know. I..’

And then she chuckled, earning an even more confused look from him. ‘What’s so funny?’ His brow furrowed.

‘Oh..it’s just. I never thought I’d get you to..draft school appointment schedules.’

‘Why’s that?’

Phoebe hesitantly licked her lips, her stormy blues meeting his aquamarine, his face betraying that he truly didn’t understand. ‘You were at work..a lot.’

‘Oh.’

Henry slowly turned around, also looking back at the busy schedule; it was indeed quite impossible to fit all this in with the 14-hour workdays he had always been so accustomed to.

‘..fuck.’ He breathed softly, scolding his old-Henry-self for being such a workaholic idiot.

‘That’s okay. We were a pretty good team.’ Phoebe leaned into the kitchen island, her hand lowering the coffee cup to her hip as she quirked her head to the side to study the schedule he had drawn up.

‘So which of these did I do with the kids?’ He asked hesitantly.

‘Soccer, on Saturday.’

Henry blinked at the 40-something other items that were listed on the meticulously drawn out grid. ‘Oh my.’

‘Yea..’ Phoebe grinned. ‘There’s a good reason why I quit my job as a nurse.’

‘You were a nurse?’

Phoebe turned her head to answer, but decided not to, her lips instead just twitching up in a half-smirk. ‘For a while. But at least now I know exactly what to do when one of the cubs run a fever.’

‘Did you like being a nurse?’

She shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. ‘Wiping shit of a patient’s ass or my kid? I’ll choose my kid any day of the week.’ She winked at him.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Henry chuckled. ‘And about that; shouldn’t the children move home at some point? Or..you go to them, or..?’ He wished to scratch his head as he did whenever he was unsure, but Phoebe was quick to stop him, her hand catching his wrist before he could move it up higher.

‘Eventually.’ She swallowed harshly and released his wrist. ‘I just don’t know when.’ Her eyes moved back to the board as she continued with slight melancholy. ‘There’s only so much you can plan.’

‘Hi Danny.’ Relief flooded Henry’s limbs as the amazonian goddess of a woman stepped into the office he had been left in some fifteen minutes earlier.

It would be just a short visit to the office, the studio having postponed the production of the new Witcher season until things were cleared out; Henry’s doctors were not very eager to give any green lights until Henry himself showed he was able to carry the burdens that came with being a lead actor in such a heavily regarded tv show.

‘Hey there big guy! Lookin’ good!!’

‘Yea,’ Henry smiled happily. ‘Feeling pretty good as well.’

‘Good to hear, good to hear! Oh and sorry if I’m a little slow. Jet lagging pretty hard over here; just got back from LA and had like..the craziest delay. But, here I am! It’s good to see you, Henry.’

‘Likewise.’ Henry cleared his throat as he tried to remember the short script she had sent the day before. A script that he’d have usually learned in between scenes, taking up no more than half an hour. But now he felt a certain nerve crawling up his spine as she plucked out that very same script from her bag.

‘Alright. So. I thought we’d have a little reading first? See how that’s going? I mean, if that’s alright with you, of course.’

‘Eh..yea, sure.’ Henry hesitated as his eye flew over the bag he had brought along, the script in there begging him to be picked up in case he failed to produce the words.

No, he could do this. He had to prove he could…

‘So, starting at the top of the scene. Geralt is sleep deprived and agitated. You know the drill..’ She waved her hand like it was no big deal, only to remember moments later it might be a deal after all, her tongue clicking as she realised her mistake. ‘I mean. IF you know the drill, or don’t know the drill, either way is fine. No question is bad. We have no stupid questions in this room, mkay? I mean, I’m just so glad to see you here! And..-’

‘No, I can do it.’ Henry frowned and tried to focus on the blurry daze that was his memory, the words somehow sticking to the tip of tongue like they were about to spill..but didn’t come. ‘Okay, maybe just eh, keep the script to be sure.’ He quickly grabbed for his bag, unzipping it to retrieve the script, the many marks indicating just how much he had struggled with it the night before; at some point Phoebe had to pull the paper from his stiff fingers, so he’d at least get some sleep.

Reading the first lines of the paper, he tried to get the voice right, the sentence right, the atmosphere right. Things that usually came like second nature. But now it all just didn’t click, his brain sluggish as he tried to read aloud the words as he tried to give his all - it wasn’t enough.

‘Okay-okay-okay.’ Danny stopped him after a short monologue. ‘Maybe let’s just..read? No crazy stuff?’

Again Henry tried. And this time it went a little better. A little. Not enough. Frustration raged through Henry’s bones as he tried to remain calm, his fists clenching around the paper as his eyes read the words and his mouth spilled them, but it just wasn’t as magical as it had once been.

By the time he said goodbye to Danny he kind of knew what had just happened; he had lost it.

‘Hey! How’d it go?’ Phoebe called from the couch, her eyes remaining trained on the laptop perched on her lap, a cup of steaming hot tea next to her on the side table.

Henry grumbled something indiscernible and bid her good night, heavy feet dragging up the stairs way before Phoebe had the chance to ask what happened. Closing her laptop she rushed up after him, knowing full well that he couldn’t be in much of a good mood - her Bear had always been like an open book to her.

She could already see him open Sam’s room to go to sleep in the narrow bed, but she stopped him at that, her hand clutching around his bicep, pulling him back towards the master bed room.

‘Come!’ She exclaimed, tugging at his heavy body which refused to move.

‘I can’t. Not ..now, okay?’ He lowered his head as he leaned his forehead into the door frame. It was more than a little clear that he was heartbroken.

Phoebe frowned, her arms opting to wrap around him instead, fingers accidentally brushing over his cock as she shimmied her hands around him, locking fingers in front of his belly. Did he think she wanted to have sexy time? She could hear his breath choke up.

‘Not that, silly.’ She whispered, her hot breath fanning over his dark blue shirt.

‘Then what? I can’t even..’ His breath choked again and an ever so quiet sob erupted from his lips. It broke Phoebe’s heart.

‘Mr. Cavill. You’re too heavy for me to carry, but could you please get to the big bed, so I can cuddle with you? Please?’ Phoebe squeezed her arms a little tighter around his chest, making him sob harder.

‘I just…’ His large paw wiped over the expanse of his cheek, angrily removing a tear that had strayed down to his jaw. ‘Fuck.’ And with that he caved, his head removing from the door frame as he slowly turned in Phoebe’s tight embrace, his head looking down at her pleading eyes. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

It took a good thirty minutes of crying and half muttering what had happened before Henry had calmed a little, Phoebe sitting next to him beneath the sheets, her eyes watching in agony as her Bear totally fell apart, thick tears running down his beautiful cheeks. He was convinced that he could never act again. That this was it. His memory was failing him. He could do simple stuff, but acting? No way, José.

Phoebe scooted a little closer as Henry finally sighed, the last of his tears spent for the moment being. Without question or answer, the both of them curled into a sweet embrace, Henry’s head leaning down onto her chest as she carefully brushed her hands through his curls, finding the scar that now ran evidently over the back of his skull; it was just another piece of Henry she’d learn to love.

Sniffling softly, Henry melted into her touch, his breathing slowly calming to a soft and deep in-and-out.

And then, she sang, her body slightly swaying on a quiet tune.

You’re my Honeybunch,

Sugarplum

Pumpy-umpy-umpkin,

You’re my Sweetie Pie

Henry smiled into the fabric of her night gown, the soft satin like mother’s skin against his glowing cheek. ‘My mom used to sing that.’ He murmured.

You’re my Cuppycake,

Gumdrop

Snoogums-Boogums,

You’re the Apple of my Eye

Henry slightly lifted his head and looked at Phoebe as she gently continued to caress his hair, her lips chanting the sweet little lullaby. Finally she turned her attention to him, warm eyes melting his fragile heart.

‘I know. She actually taught me. With Sam. I mean, he was probably the fussiest baby ever to exist.’

Henry chuckled. ‘And now I am your baby.’

The both of them laughed softly. ‘No, no, no. You’re no baby! Though if you need some smothering with love, I’m glad to offer it.’ She playfully jiggled her momma-licious tits, making Henry swallow quickly.

Any other day of the week he would have jumped at the chance - nothing much had happened yet on that department, but right now, with his body all rosy and exhausted, he could only shake his head no, his cheek moving back to rest on her chest. ‘Another time.’ He sighed, melting back into her loving embrace.

‘Okay then Bear. Sleep well.’ She pressed a kiss on his crown and shimmied a little to get comfortable.

Sometimes, dads also need a little bit of mommy love.

Chap 6 >

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #fluff #sadness #the accidental family #how to dad

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draco-kasai · 3 years ago

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Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 1: Welcome to The Program! -->

Chapter 2 pt. 2 Find Chapter 1 here!

Story Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

AKA; A very bitg crossover fanfic I started because I can’t help myself. I adore all of these characters and hope I had done them justice, though I did take many backstories and threw them into the meat grinder to remold them in a way that fits this universe. Also, I love 1-A but I also want to take them down a peg or two... I also just want to see them get their asses handed to them.

A/N: Here it is! Chapter two! I hope anyone who decides to read it enjoys!

Alfred Freedom Jones practically bounced out of his bed in excitement. All the exchange student’s had arrived around 7PM last night in hopes for them to receive enough rest and get used to any sudden time change and jet lag. He and Valerie - a teacher of the school where they conduct part of the program - had wanted to be the ones to pick up and welcome all the kids. However, They were tasked with any last minute decorating to make the dorms presentable and welcoming and preparing dinner, that way the kids would have food in their bellies before they headed to their dorms and began unpacking and going to bed.

The dorms of the school are located right behind the school itself. Although they were especially made 15 years ago since the program had begun, they are used for other purposes throughout the year to not go to waste. When students find themselves in situations where they need a place to stay, they are welcome to speak to a counselor to explain the situation, where they are given a room key and a ‘job’ as a tutor or teacher's assistant as well as have mandatory counseling to ‘pay off’ their stay. Sports clubs are also welcome to apply and stay in the program dorms during the summer for training camp, and many clubs even enjoy having sleep-overs for a few days as a bonding activity.

This year has been one of the few where nobody has found the need to stay in the dorms throughout their school year. Alfred could almost cry for joy at that fact. Not only is there no student in the school facing such problems, but there won't be a random kid trying to sneak into all of their activities. It’s endearing when it happens the first few times, but the moment you have every one of those students trying to sneak into amusement parks and other field trips with the exchange students they’d become attached to, making you buy them a ticket on the spot to not just send them back, it becomes a little of a problem. Needless to say, he and Valerie have started carrying extra money with them on field trips.

Last year was a new one. Instead of them just buying a ticket on the spot, the two seniors that were with them had been snuck onto the bus and into six flags. They had somehow convinced the shy Brazilian boy to use their quirk to turn them into mice for an hour, so they could sneak in.

Everyone that enters a theme park nowadays are given quirk suppressant bracelets, that are custom-made for each theme park with designs, shapes and looks, that they must wear during their stay and return when they leave. The senior students were somehow able to get their hands on some when they transformed back, inside the theme park.

Everyone was very smug when they explained to Alfred and Valerie how exactly two seniors not in the program and without tickets got into the theme park. Even the shy boy seemed proud that so much was accomplished with their quirk. As illegal as that is, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they had just outsmarted the system. Although that didn’t stop, he or Valerie from lecturing them. His kids were very apologetic, and tried to make up for it by paying the teachers for the two students tickets by all pitching in. He had avoided Aizawa’s questioning stare at the two students the whole day and allowed Valerie and the kids to keep him busy.

All things considered, Alfred and Valerie might not be the best choices as chaperones for the students, since they let them get away with shit when they know they’ve been outsmarted. Their superiors don’t have to know. Although the teachers praise them for being so innovative, the two teachers always make sure to drill it into their brain how important following the law is and how they shouldn't abuse their quirks in such ways. They also make sure to explain what kind of consequences such actions can cause, especially if they were pros.

The reason they don’t kick them out of the program or anything, though, is because they are kids in training for a dangerous profession. They deserve the opportunity to have fun and act their age every now and again. Sure, they usually end up realizing how idiotic many of their ideas turn out to be, but it’s best they start learning now than mess up later and have their careers ruined for it. He and Valerie have kept in contact with kids who had graduated too! They have all become wonderful heroes, even if they had pulled quite a few pranks during their time in the program.

Adjusting the prescription glasses on his face, Alfred grabbed all the lanyards with cardholders attached to them and made sure each of the students program ID’s, room and key cards were there. He was going to hand them out last night after dinner, but all the kids seemed too exhausted, so he and Valerie had led them to their rooms to go unpack and rest. Once he was sure all of them were there, he grabbed his own lanyard. Wrapping it around his jeans' belt loop, he grabbed a folder and stepped out of his dorm.

Looking at his watch, he realized it was 9:01 AM. They had told the kids to set their alarms, so they should be awake and getting ready by now. Going over the schedule he had memorized, he noted that they all had to be in the cafeteria at 9:45 for a late breakfast. After, they would head over to the large field separating the two dorm buildings for group activities. Since the students are all jet-lagged, they are free from classes till Friday, tomorrow. It may be a program for training, but they're students, can’t let them all fall behind.

Making his way down the hallway, he began knocking on doors to the boys rooms on his floor. “Head down to the common area in ten minutes! Wear something comfortable for physical activity!” he called out as he made his way down all 12 doors. He could faintly hear Valerie doing the same downstairs to the females.

As he walked towards the stairs, he spotted a few students already following behind him. He had even spotted a few of the girls walking behind Valerie, already attempting small talk. Once in the common area, he and Valerie smiled at the kids that followed them down.

“You kids are free to enjoy yourselves with anything you’d like while we wait for the others.” Valerie’s chipper voice practically sang as she spoke. “The remote to the TV is on the coffee table, the pool table racks are on the wall over there, the ball for the foosball table should be in one of the goals, and you are free to explore the field, just don’t go too far.”

Both adults watched in amusement as the students stared around in awe. By the time the ten minutes had passed, all the students were scattered throughout the field, or common room. It hadn’t taken long for the two adults to gather them all up outside. One of the students had been quite sociable, going around speaking to everyone.

“Alright students ~!” Valerie sang as she closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her, “Since we still have time before we have to head over for breakfast, let’s all introduce ourselves properly to one another.”

Alfred gave the kids a two finger salute as his partner took her place next to him, “Wassup guys! I’m Alfred Freedom Jones! Call me Mr. Jones! I’m a representative of the Hero collaboration program! I’ve been to both schools and have been doing this for 6 years! I was actually a student of this program when it was established! I hope you all enjoy yourselves while you are here!”

“Hello~! I’m Valerie Felicity Frizzle! Please, feel free to call me Miss. Frizzle or even Frizz, as many of my kids call me. I have been teaching in Marina high school for 19 years now. I was actually the teacher that had convinced my coworkers and the district to sign our school up for this lovely program! Truly, it has been a wonderful joy to meet and work with such wonderful children! I hope you all have a glorious experience and take home with you something new~!” The woman curtsied, showing off her dark purple dress that depicted outer space in beautiful patterns and colors.

“Now then! Your turn guys! Anyone want to go first, or shall we popcorn it? Maybe left to right? Choose someone and let them choose after? Whatcha guys up for?”

Both teachers watched in amusement as they watched the kids glance around at one another. They had seen some of them already starting to make some friends. Five of them seemed to get along well while playing foosball. Two had played 8-ball while conversing with two other students that watched with interest. Some of the others kept to themselves while watching TV or hanging around outside. Hopefully they are able to make some friends too. Just as Miss. Frizzle prepared to call on someone, a green arm raised up.

“Me! Me! I would love to go first!” The boy’s grin widened as everyone's gaze landed on him. Everything about him was a different shade of green, from his skin to his hair and eyes. He wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned short-sleeved button up that has Disney dogs printed all over it, and loose, knee-length jean shorts. A boy at the other end of the crowd of students with green eyes and a serious face jolted in surprise and sank a little into his seat once he noticed him.

“I like your enthusiasm, kid! Alright! Let’s hear it! Ah, don’t share any quirk information, though! We have a little activity planned later, and staying anonymous would be the best course of action.” Alfred grinned just as wide in response.

“Okay!” He bounced over to stand between them. It was unnecessary, but it looks like it’s a thing now. Both teachers could see the discomfort that had settled on a small handful of students at the thought of standing in front of strangers to introduce themselves. “Hi! My name is Garfield Mark Logan! You guys can call me Gar! My name can be quite the mouthful. My hero name is Beast Boy and I came from San Francisco, aaand oh yeah! I’m Vegetarian! It’s nice to meet you all -! Oh my gosh, Damian! Hey dude!!”

Said boy groaned as he facepalmed. A few people in the group held back their laughter as best they could as Garfield rushed over to him. Grabbing the sleeve of Damian’s jacket, he dragged him to the front of the crowd, “You practically ghosted us, dude. This is your punishment. Introduce yourself.”

Damian almost stumbled when Garfield pushed him before retreating back to his spot next to a boy with green highlights in his hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed the sleeve to his hoodie and straightened his black V-neck shirt. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Hello, I am Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I suppose if I am going off of Garfield’s introduction; my hero name is Red Bird, I came from Gotham in New Jersey, and I am also Vegetarian.” Green eyes scanned the crowd before pointing to a boy with light brown hair wearing a tie diy shirt. “You go next.”

“O - oh! Um, okay.” The boy stood to his feet from his place on the concrete, “Hi, uh, My name is Rudy Tabootie. I live pretty close actually, Burbank, to be exact. Uh, I’m not vegetarian… sorry? Uh, my Hero name is Snap. It’s really cool to meet you all.” and just like that, all the introductions went, and the group found themselves in the cafeteria for breakfast with their new lanyards. It wasn’t long till all the student’s exited the cafeteria and made their way to the field between the dorms.

“Alright guys! We want to explain a few things with you before we start today’s first activity!” Mr. Jones clapped his hands together, excitedly.

“I’m sure you have all noticed how the special guests, the main reason for this program, Yuuei isn’t here yet. Well, they will all be arriving tomorrow. However, you will not be introduced to them until Monday.” Miss. Frizzle smiled widely, the students before them began murmuring to one another in confusion.

“Um, Why?” A girl with pearl white skin asked. She wore light gray joggers, a sky blue tank top and had her cobalt blue hair tied up in pigtails. Jenny Walkman.

“The answer is simple! The students of Yuuei have had the whole school year to train and get to know one another, as well as their abilities. Needless to say, they all know how to work together.” Miss. Frizzle explained, “For this reason, our program is set up to allow all the exchange students to have time to get to know one another as well as each other's quirks and skills, so you may be able to work together when needed. This way, when we do battle training, everything would be on as equal footing as we can get.”

Mr. Jones nodded beside her, “Which is why all weekend, as they rest from their long flight, get accustomed to their surroundings and have fun sightseeing, we will be doing a bunch of group activities to get to know one another better. That way, when we begin battle training…” He trails off, hoping someone would finish for him. He wasn’t disappointed.

“We’d at least be on equal footing against them.” A girl with long red hair that she had tied up in a ponytail responded. Wearing a green crop top, and dark blue cargo pants, she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile crossing her lips slightly at the plan. Kimberly Anne Possible

“Precisely!” Miss. Frizzle and Mr. Jones sang together.

“Today’s activity, drum roll please,” Miss. Frizzle happily made the sound effect for her coworker. Mr. Jones held up a dodgeball, where he got it, nobody knows, “Dodgeball!”

Chapter 2 pt. 2

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destiniesfic · 4 years ago

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132 Hours, Chapter 2:

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or read below:

This is the shape of my nightmares:

My sister Taryn and I are thirteen years old, sick and miserable. We’ve just endured our first heats and stayed home from school for a week with doctor permission. Even now, we feel residual awfulness: headaches and sore muscles. Heats are painful when there’s no one to help you through them, and obviously we’re too young to mate. We sheltered in our rooms, and our adoptive father briefly hired an omega nurse to tend to our high temperatures and help us wrap up in blankets, so at least we felt safe and cocooned.

Everybody knows why we missed school, and they whisper about it behind our backs. Even before we presented, our designation was obvious. The rest of our class—the rest of the school—is alpha kids, and the ones in our year have all started growing out of their baby fat, shooting up like wheat stalks. Taryn and I are only barely taller than we were last year, our cheeks are still soft, and we are gaining weight in our hips and chests. Everything about this is awful. Nothing is fun.

We are outside for gym class. The alpha kids, growing into their bodies, have a lot of extra energy, so they need to spend time circling the track or tackling each other in games of capture the flag. Taryn and I will join them until we get tired, but if we show signs of flagging, we’re benched. Omegas aren’t as sturdy. Omegas break.

Today, the teacher is more generous. During our game of capture the flag, she simply mandates we play defense, guarding the precious flag, and abstain from running around with our classmates. It’s boring, but fine. We get to talk to each other while the alphas tussle among themselves upfield.

Except a few of them are “on defense” today too—the alpha elites, too lazy or too important for gym, who can slack off. As the only two omegas on school grounds who aren’t staff, Taryn and I are categorically beneath their notice, but we know every member of the clique by name: Locke, the son of a wealthy consultant who’s never home, always traveling; Nicasia, whose mom is a senator; Valerian—nobody knows what his family does so we all kind of assume it’s crime; Cardan, the youngest of six heirs to the most absurd family fortune this side of the Rockies.

Already, they are taller than us, stronger than us, looking unfairly sculpted in the autumn sun. Already I am aware of how we are different.

Then the wind blows past me, picking up my hair. And the scene changes.

The first thing I notice when Cardan unexpectedly strides toward me is that he smells amazing. He smells so incredible that I goggle at him for a second, baffled by how I somehow didn’t notice this about him before. I feel a clenching in my stomach and the urge to do something, although at the time I don’t know what. And then, while I am paralyzed by his scent, he gives me a hard shove for no reason, knocking me off-balance.

I land on my backside, an embarrassing but safe place to land, padded with muscle and fat. Our adoptive father always taught us that it’s better to land there than anywhere else, better to suffer a little humiliation than to crack your skull open or shatter your ankle or wrist. It still smarts, but at least the only thing bruised is my pride.

Then Valerian throws his head back and laughs. “That’s where she belongs,” he crows. “On her back, like a good little omega.”

Nicasia thinks that’s hilarious. Locke raises his eyebrows, blinking at us with large, tawny eyes. And Cardan, the instigator. Cardan just sneers.

That sneer has haunted me. I’ve seen it countless times since then. He starts holding his nose when he passes me in the hallway. Whenever I get complacent, he makes sure to whisper in my ear that I reek. He and his friends seem to find it more fun to bully the alphas smaller or weaker than them—omegas already know their place, after all—but that does not protect us when they’re bored, or when said alphas further down the food chain need to take out their own aggressions.

I think they thought it would break me.

They couldn’t know it would do the opposite.

---

“Jude?”

I open my eyes to a darkened room, and groan. I feel vaguely like I’ve been run over by a truck, then the truck stopped and someone picked me up and threw me in the back of it, and we proceeded to drive down a very bumpy road. In other words: like shit. My head throbs, and when I try to sit up, the world spins and I flop back over.

“What happened?” I mutter. Everything is greyish and blurry. Dim light seems to be filtering in from somewhere above my head and to the left, but there isn’t very much of it. I hold my hand up in front of my eyes and squint at it until I stop seeing double.

There’s a relieved sigh from somewhere past my hand. A male voice. “You’re okay.”

I make a second attempt at sitting up and am more successful this time. My shoulder scrapes against a wall to my right, so I lean into it. The light source I clocked before is a small window, longer than it is wide, set high up above me. And on the other side of the room, sitting across from me, sits the dark shape of a boy, or a man, or someone caught eternally in between those two things.

Cardan.

I blink at him. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, you too.” Cardan rubs his eye. He isn’t sneering now. In fact, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen him. His hair is messy—which is nothing new, people are doubtless running their hands through it all the time with how perpetually tousled it seems—but there are circles under his eyes and he looks pale. He’s also bleary-eyed and squinting a little. He doesn’t seem to have any visible injuries, though, although jury’s out on whether that’s good or bad. I’ve often thought he could stand to get pushed around a little more, instead of always being the one to do the pushing.

“I gave you the mattress,” he says, gesturing at what I’m sitting on. “There was only one.”

I look down. I’m indeed sitting on a mattress. There’s no linens, but someone has thrown a slightly scratchy blanket over the lower half of my body. I peer around, dread sinking in as I begin to grasp the severity of our situation. “Oh, fuck.”

“I think it’s ransom,” Cardan volunteers. “I mean, I really can’t think of anything else it would be.”

I hug my arms to my chest and say the thing drilled into every omega’s brain since they’re old enough to wander off from their parents. “What about sex slavery?”

“Yeah, there’s not a huge demand for alpha men on the black market. Although…” He looks down at himself and smirks a little. He’s built like a classical sculpture and he is well aware of this fact. “Can’t blame them if they decided to make an exception.”

It’s impossible to think he’s making a joke about this, not when it’s actually a thing that could happen to me, a possibility that my stepmother Oriana warned us of ever since she married Madoc and inherited his adopted twins. Sex slavers looking to snatch up omega girls became our bogeymen.

But the odds are that Cardan’s right: it’s probably ransom. I imagine people would do and have done worse to get their hands on a fraction of the late Eldred Greenbriar’s billions.

But I say, “Maybe someone finally got tired of you being annoying as shit.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Feeling mouthy, are we?”

“Fuck off. This is your fault,” I accuse, wagging a finger at him. “You did this.”

Cardan blinks at me. “What, you think I kidnapped myself?”

“Not literally.” I slump back against the wall. “Although it seems like something you would do. You love attention.”

“Ah, yes. All of the attention I am getting from you in our cozy eight-by-ten cell. I’m just soaking it in.” He pantomimes splashing water on his face. “Great for the skin.”

“You’re in a playful mood.” But of course he’s feeling better than me. He would have needed a larger dose—of the chloroform? ether? they used on us to get us here—but he also would have bounced back quicker. Everything about alpha biology is kind of extra like that.

“I joke a lot when I’m nervous.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I am actually freaking the fuck out.”

“Oh, great.”

“I do have water, though. Thought that might interest you.”

I sit up a little straighter. “God, my head is killing me. Yes.”

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Instead of getting up, which I think for a moment he might, he rolls the half-empty bottle of water across the floor and over to me. It bumps against the edge of the mattress and I have to lean over to grab it, which nearly makes me hurl then and there. The water helps, though. It’s room temp, but even a mouthful makes me feel more like a person.

“It’s not drugged,” Cardan calls. “Surprised you didn’t ask in advance.”

I flip him off. After I’ve drained the last of the bottle, I let myself just breathe, counting backwards from ten in my head. There are many warring emotions vying to tip me over the edge of a panic attack, but I can’t let them. I have to get out of here.

Cardan flicks at a bit of dust on the floor. When I am on three, he interrupts my mindful breathing. “You realize that, technically, we have now swapped saliva?”

“Ew.” I throw the empty water bottle at him and am annoyed when he catches it effortlessly from the air. “Could you be, like, useful for once in your life?”

“Sure.” He leans forward and lowers his voice, like he’s afraid someone might overhear. “There are three of them. One’s a woman, I think the other two are men. The only one I’ve seen is tall and white and barely spoke a word to me. He dropped off the water when I was still groggy.”

That is useful. Dammit. I frown. “Designation?”

“Dunno. Couldn’t get a read on him. I think they might be using maskers for their scents.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I exhale. “Tall” doesn’t have to mean alpha—my sister Vivi, who’s shorter than me, is proof enough of that. But it doesn’t sound good. “Any idea where we are?”

“I don’t think we’ve left Long Island. I don’t know for sure, though. We could be in Jersey for all I know.”

“Right.” I sigh again and rub my temples. “Okay, so ransom. Ransom. You could technically pay the ransom yourself, right? You’re over eighteen—”

“I’m twenty.” When I blink at him, he clarifies, “Repeated sixth grade, remember? And I just had my birthday in July.”

How could I forget? My life wasn’t exactly blissful before he came along, but it definitely got worse when he got bumped down to my year. “Okay, you’re twenty, and your dad died last year. So you’ve got your own money now.”

Cardan raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Real considerate.”

Now is definitely not the time to quibble over manners, but I manage, “Sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t be. He was a dick.” I glare at him, but he ignores me, patting down the pockets of his skinny jeans. “Huh, you know, when they took my phone and my wallet, they must have also taken the special checkbook I keep on me just for hostage situations. Think they’d accept Venmo?”

“Very funny.”

“But the real issue here is that I can’t touch my trust until I turn twenty-one.”

I wish I could say that didn’t interest me, but it does. Sure, Madoc has money. He’s a ruthlessly efficient attorney with killer instincts, and, among other prominent clients, he’s represented Cardan’s dad and both of his older brothers at one point or another. But he’s not among the alpha ultra-rich. Private helicopter rich. Secluded island rich. And I’m nosy enough about how the point one percent of the one percent lives. Anyone would be. So I ask, “Why’s that?”

“Why did my dad do anything?” Cardan folds his hands behind his head. “To make my life difficult, I guess. It was probably to ensure I wouldn’t embarrass myself by buying and crashing seventeen Porsches in a row. Give that frontal lobe time to develop. He’s not here to say. Anyway, Balekin’s the trustee. Maybe there’s some clause about life-threatening emergencies.”

Balekin is Cardan’s oldest brother, but thinking about siblings makes me wonder, with a pang in my chest, about Taryn. What had she done when she and Locke couldn’t find me at the party? Had she panicked? Had she gotten home safe? I don’t want to think about Madoc because he’s probably freaking out in a big way, a side of him I have only seen once before, the last time someone threatened me. It’s more likely that he’ll tear the kidnappers limb from limb than give into anybody’s demands. I hope Balekin has a more level head, although given his reputation for throwing massive parties, I am not counting on it.

“Right,” I say. “So they’ll hit up Balekin for the money?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Honestly? He might have staged this himself to get at the trust, or more likely my stake in the corporation. In some ways, I think it’s better for my family if I disappear.”

It surprises me to hear him say that. “Wouldn’t—that would be a huge scandal, though?”

I don’t say what I think, which is Don’t they love you? But there’s a pretty big age gap between Cardan and his oldest siblings. They could be practically strangers for all I know.

Cardan just shrugs and looks gloomy.

“I don’t think they planned on getting me, too,” I say quietly. There’s only one mattress in the room. One bottle of water on hand for when Cardan woke up. And anyone who thinks they can extort “Mad Dog” Madoc is definitely biting off more than they can chew. But that curdles my stomach, because if Cardan hadn’t chased me down the beach, I probably would have woken up in my lavender canopied bed, safe. Probably with a killer headache from overstimulation, but safe. As safe as I can ever be.

“Yeah,” Cardan agrees, which doesn’t help me feel any better. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

I blow out a breath. “Well, Balekin better pay up in the next forty-eight hours, or we need to figure out how to get out of here. Otherwise we’re going to have problems.”

“We are?”

I swallow. I hate that I have to spell it out for him. But I keep my voice even, casual. “Unless you’ve got spare heat suppressants on you.”

Cardan looks dumbstruck. “Oh,” he says after a moment. “Shit, no. I must have left them in my other jeans with my hostage checkbook.”

I feel myself blush, which is ridiculous. Unregulated heat cycles, messy and inconvenient as they are, are nothing to be ashamed of, as everyone says. Just a quirk of biology. Just the way I am. There’s even a group of pretty radical omega activists out there fighting to destigmatize unregulated cycles, citing the damage that suppressants can wreak on the body. Except my designation is going to be pretty problematic if I’m locked in this room with Cardan for reasons other than societal stigma.

To be honest, it’s already a problem. The room is probably ten feet long, not long enough for us both to lie down across from each other without curling up to avoid touching. I am already hyper-aware of his presence, the nervous drumming of his long fingers, the terrible urge I have to run my fingers through his already messy curls. It’s just chemistry, but if it’s bad now, it’ll be about eighty times worse for both of us if I go into heat.

And if any of our captors are also alphas…

I shake myself all over. I can’t go down that road. I’ll never pull myself back. I’ll just curl up in a little ball and then it’ll be up to Cardan to save us, which, no thank you. “Yeah. So, one way or another we have to get out of here.”

Cardan goes pale. “Jude, I—”

“So we assume nobody’s coming,” I continue. “Use the next twenty-four hours to figure out as much as we can about the people who’ve taken us and where we’re being held, and the next twenty-four to escape. That’s the plan.”

“That’s a reasonable plan,” he says, vaguely startled.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I’m not. You were valedictorian, of course you have a plan. Just, uh, my mind went totally blank when you pointed out you’d—”

“We don’t have to talk about it, okay?” I snap. “I assume you want that just as much as I do.” Which is not at all.

The way he pales further tells me I’m not far from wrong. I mean, he’s always made it clear how much he’s hated my scent, the way I look, the fact that I get better grades than him. He hates pretty much everything about me, because I am an omega and he is an alpha, and that means he should be on top of the world and I should know my place.

I massage my temples, trying to clear my head. “No, we’re going to get out of here before that happens.”

For reasons I can’t pretend to understand, that seems to reassure Cardan. He nods and unfolds his arms, letting his head fall back against the wall. His eyes close. “Okay.”

I am surprised that he seems at all willing to trust me, but I suppose he is pretty low on options. That’s his mistake. Already I am thinking of what a relief it will be to leave him behind, even though I know that, morally speaking, I should be formulating an escape plan for the both of us. Besides, abandoning Cardan to his fate wouldn’t really solve any of my problems. But I wouldn’t have to face his sneer anymore, wouldn’t have to wonder what it would take to convince him I have earned my place when the answer is clearly “Nothing, ever.”

“I just have to figure out how,” I mutter under my breath.

Cardan cracks one dark eye open to look at me, but I ignore him, staring up at the little window. There has to be a way to crack this place open like a nut, and if there is, I’ll find it. There is no other option but this, no other way but out.

I refuse to believe otherwise.

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

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The Marriage Project (2)

part 2 is already here! fun fact, I’ve actually written like 16 chapters and I probs won’t always be posting weekly but I really wanted to put out part 2 sooooo... yeah. The Tom Holland x reader high school AU continues

Story Masterlist

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 2365 (shorter than before, I know)

% approximately 1st week of September %

The next week had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Flynn gave you both an A on your budget for the first week.

She also drew the next weekly condition, which for you was a $300 doctor’s visit of one family member.

“Well that’s stupid. If this were real life, we wouldn’t even need to take our kids to the doctor as PA’s,” Tom argued.

“First off, it’s not real life, and secondly, what if the kid broke a bone? Who’s gonna cast it, genius?”

“Well we probably wouldn’t have to pay,” he grumbled

When Friday afternoon hit, you were almost disappointed to see Tom not in the stands for your game, but remembered that the team had to start all their pregame rituals a couple hours before kickoff.

After crushing the competition, you took a quick shower and put on the shirt every senior was supposed to wear and walked to the field, where some of your friends had already claimed a spot on the bleachers.

It was still a half hour before kickoff, so you talked as they helped put paint streaks on your cheeks and tie ribbons in your hair to show school spirit. You also watched the boys run drills until they were called to the sidelines for the national anthem.

The team captains met for the coin toss, and as Tom and his co captain headed back to the team huddle, Tom spotted you in the crowd and pointed directly at you.

You didn’t know what he was doing so you quickly flipped him off and went back to your conversation.

They ended up winning the game by a field goal, and true to his word, Tom had actually played pretty well, aside from getting sacked towards the end of the game.

You and the girls, not yet wanting to go home, hung out in the parking lot as families left.

“Hey, look. It’s your husband,” Alexis pointed out as Tom and a couple other players came limping down the lot with bags in tow. They were still wearing their football pants but had removed their jerseys, leaving on sleeveless compression shirts.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. But I will say, his mom already loves me. We’re on a first name basis.”

She gave you a little low-five out of pride.

You couldn’t help but notice Tom pull the necklace out from under his shirt’s collar, the ring still attached.

Did he wear that the whole game?

He spotted you from a few yards away and yelled out,

“Hey hey hey. What did I tell you? Swooning yet?” he held his arms out as if to show he was right.

“Not quite, bub. But I’ll give you that touchdown pass. Don’t forget we have to work on the budget tomorrow!”

“Yeah yeah, see you then, princess.” He waved a hand as he continued on to his car.

Ugh. Princess.

Tom had been calling you that ever since the time freshman year you were the leading princess in a school play.

You had hated the role for many reasons.

For one, the character had no development and was basically dumb and defenseless (aka the exact opposite of you and everything you stood for). On top of that, the costumes were hideous, and what should have been a couple of pretty ballgowns and flowing skirts ended up being completely unflattering in color, shape, and style.

Everyone knew you hated it, and Tom loved to rub that in your face.

Eventually, you decided to retire home for the night since you had had such a taxing day.

You rang the Holland’s doorbell again, and this time it was opened by Tom’s youngest brother, Paddy. He was in the 5th grade, so you didn’t know him well.

A perfect opportunity to make a good impression.

“Hey there, Paddy. Is Tom around? We’re supposed to work on our project today.”

“I’m not sure where he is, but I’m sure I can find him. Come on in.”

“Oh thank you. So polite.”

He sheepishly looked down as his face reddened.

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran to the stairs and disappeared up them. A few minutes later an exhausted looking Tom appeared at the top of the stairs next to his brother.

“Come on up, I need to take a piss before we get started.” he called down, ever the charmer. He rubbed his eyes. He was only wearing a pair of sweats.

You followed his word and sat down on his bedroom floor, pulling up the documents on your computer as you waited. He came back wearing a shirt, a mug of coffee in hand.

“Want some? I made it fresh. I just woke up if you couldn’t tell.”

“No thanks. I don’t drink coffee, I find it disgusting. Caffeine addiction’s bad for you anyways.”

He looked down at the drink and back at you.

“Well we can’t all be perfect little princesses.”

You wanted to slap him, but just fired back with an insult and got to work. There wasn’t as much to do today other than reallocate the funds for the appointment and make up a story of what could have happened.

You both laid on your stomachs looking at the screen. As you typed, you heard heavy breathing and glanced over to see Tom had fallen back asleep.

Wow. He almost looks nice when he’s sleeping. What a disappointment.

You finished your paragraph and shook him awake.

“Ugh. sorry. I told you I’m a mess after game days.”

He went to push up to a sitting position when he winced, inhaling sharply. He put his head back on the ground.

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just pulled a muscle in my back last night. I think it’s from that sack.”

“Do you need me to get you something? LIke icy hot or some advil? I carry both at all times.”

“Icy hot would be perfect. I already took some painkillers.”

You shifted up and grabbed your backpack, pulling out the tube. You tossed it next to him to use.

“I hate to ask this, because you’re you, but could you put it on for me? I don’t think I can reach.”

You hesitated, but agreed since you knew what it felt like to be in pain like that.

“Okay. Give me a general idea of where it is and I’ll poke around to find it.”

“Just under my shoulder blades on the right.”

He pulled up his shirt and you went to touch his back lightly. He flinched when your fingers graced his skin.

“Oh yeah, my hands are cold by the way.”

“No shit.”

You put your hand back, pressing lightly until he winced again, then you put a small amount of the ointment on your hand, massaging it in.

You rhythmically rubbed your hand over the area in little circles, trying to loosen the tight muscle with your palm. You didn’t think much about it until he let out a moan, and you pulled your hand back like he was on fire.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry. It just felt so good on that spot and it just slipped out-”

“Let’s just agree to never mention this again. I’m gonna go wash my hands. And hopefully my brain while I’m at it. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just across the hall. Can’t miss it.”

A little bit later and you were finally done for the day, so you helped Tom up and again packed your things.

“Sorry again about earlier. Thanks, though. It really helped.”

“Like I said, we don’t need to talk about it. Just never make that sound again, please. See you Monday.”

And with that you were out the door.

Another week, and Mrs. Flynn gave you another A and a budget condition.

Both you and Tom again won at your respective sporting events, and you again went to Tom’s.

Throughout the week, you and Tom had been on your usual game, firing shots. But at home it was like he was a different person. Sure you still jabbed at each other occasionally, but there was a more friendly aspect to it this week.

You were sitting on the floor when you felt a familiar pain in your lower abdomen.

You ignored it for a minute, but then it hit twice as strong. Immediately you shot up.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you stated, speaking quickly.

“Uh. Okay?”

You rushed in and as you sat down pulled up your period tracker app.

You weren’t supposed to start for 4 more days.

Well that’s a lie you thought as you caught a streak of red upon wiping.

You dug through the under-sink cabinet, hoping and praying to find something, anything you could use. When that came up dry, you just stuffed up some toilet paper and resigned to getting a tampon from your backpack.

A sense of panic filled your chest, however, when you realized the little bag you kept with extra supplies was nowhere to be found. That’s when you remembered that you had taken it out to replenish and apparently never put it back.

“Oh no. Oh no no no!”

There wasn’t even a single liner at the bottom of the bag.

“What’s got you in a tiff, princess? Don’t we have everything we need already?”

You sighed. You weren’t one to announce when you were on your period, since guys liked to believe that all women become bitches when they bleed. But you were desperate.

“Look, I know you’re gonna make fun of me, but I just started my period and don’t have anything to deal with it and I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you just hold it?”

“Ha ha good one. Seriously though I don’t know what I’m gonna do. If I don’t figure out something fast, I’ll bleed through my pants.”

Tom looked at you confused.

“Wait a second,” you started. “You weren’t serious right then, right? Like you do know it’s something women can’t control?”

“WHAT?” he exclaimed. “You can’t?”

“You know, for someone who calls himself so smart you sure are a dumbass. How do you know nothing about periods? You play football, haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

He got quiet.

“No. I’m too busy competing with you that when I do get free time, everyone gets really intimidated by you.”

“Oh... “ you didn’t know what to say, but then a cramp hit you like a ton of bricks and you doubled over. “Ugh. could you just go get your mom? I need to go back to the bathroom and try not to throw up.”

Eventually, Nikki came and left some midol, tampons, and a heating pad for you and you were able to go back to Tom’s room, finding him leaning against his bed. He sat up straight when you walked in.

“Are- are you okay? You seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier.”

You plugged in the heating pad and turned it on, laying down on your back so you could drape it across your stomach. The midol hadn’t yet kicked in.

“Yeah, I’m good. It was early this month and I just wasn’t prepared,” you said staring at the ceiling, but turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry if what I said was insensitive. I just figured you knew more about it than the average guy and I was so panicked that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never had a boyfriend either. Same situation.”

“Hah, nerd.”

You rolled your eyes and threw a nearby pillow at him.

“Like you have room to talk. Now let’s just finish this so I can go home and take a nap.”

When you got to home ec Monday, you hadn’t spoken to Tom since leaving his house Saturday. Frankly, you were embarrassed about the situation still and figured he felt awkward too.

Then, of course, you learned that Mrs. Flynn had decided to throw the class a curveball to tie the marriage project into regular class assignments.

For a unit on sewing, she was making each couple work together to make a small “marriage quilt” approximately the size of a baby blanket. Partners would have to work together to choose the colors, make a design, and sew it together within 2 weeks in class.

So there you were, sitting in the back corner of the room discussing design options and drawing up a pattern with Tom.

Upon realizing you both loved blue, you decided to make a blue based quilt. There would be little teal and pink accents as well in a couple of the fabrics you chose.

You sat in silence as you both cut small squares of fabric and batting. Other groups were talking, but things still felt heavy.

“Hey, uh. About Saturday…” Tom began quietly from the right of you.

“Please don’t bring it up. Everything turned out fine so let’s just keep it that way. I don’t need you to embarrass me more.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… what you said got me thinking. I know about all kinds of stuff and I’d like to go into medicine one day, but I know nothing about women’s health. So, I spent a good portion of yesterday researching and honestly, I had no idea how much you all go through. We may hate each other, but I respect you a lot more than before.”

“Oh. Wow. You know, I’m sure you read about it yesterday, but it’s super different for everyone. I wouldn’t even consider mine nearly as bad to some peoples’. But that’s really nice of you. And just because we hate each other doesn’t mean I won’t offer to let you ask me questions whenever. Education is way more important than any rivalry.”

He smiled slightly and looked down at his desk, then back up, putting out his left fist.

“Is a fist bump a good enough agreement to let each other ask any kinds of questions like that, no malice intended?” he asked.

You smiled back and hit your right fist to his left one. Eventually you went back to your normal arguing, but you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

A/N: thanks for reading guys! I’m so so busy with school right now that it’s going to be hard to release chapters weekly but I am trying to keep a somewhat regular upload schedule! I’ve written about 16 chapters so I have a lot of content to share already and there’s still more before I finish. As always, I can’t reply to post replies but my messages and asks are always open!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #high school!tom holland #sam holland #Harry Holland #paddy holland

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missinghan · 5 years ago

Text

radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College.

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.

Man, what a life.

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

935 notes · View notes

aclosetfan · 4 years ago

Note

hi so like

“i saw this and thought of you immediately”

if you want to for any ship HDHDHDHDHD

@over-under-through1 Okay, so, I gave ya greens last time, and you said ANY ship, so I decided to give my rare pair some love. And it’s just sweet pure brain rot. Anyway, as always, thanks for the prompt!!!

Prompt: “I saw this and thought of you immediately” from the prompt list of ways to say “I love you” without actually saying it 😊 that whole list makes me go soft. Pairing: brick/bubbles

Word count: 4696// this was supposed to be a drabble :)))))

Summary: I’ve got nothing witty to say. Bubbles just gives our boy a gift and he almost hemorrhages.

(Bubbles’ love language would totally be gift-giving based on how crafty she is, my love language is definitely NOT gift giving so I hope this isn’t horrible)

Brick licked chip crumbs from his fingers as he flipped through the tv. On the floor, next to the recliner he had deemed his for the afternoon, his journalism partner—one seemingly disgruntled Blossom Utonium—was busy organizing their project into five hundred million different tasks. She was dividing them evenly, and despite her warnings and threats, he had already resigned to do his two hundred and fifty million assigned mini-steps last minute like usual. It was the same song and dance they did for every project they were paired up for, which was incredibly often and, frankly, not by choice, though now, he supposed he'd be a bit insulted if she went and picked a new partner after everything they had been through together.

Investigative Journalism 302 was supposed to be another blowoff class he had decided to take solely for the credits. Still, when it became clear to the professor that Brick wasn't going to be taking their class seriously, they had gone out of their way to ruin his life and pair him with Blossom Utonium. Despite the good A-quality content they churned out, it had not been an easy go around the first few times they had been paired together. They were too similar and too different in all the worst ways. She was too type-A to his type-B, and they were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong. But, him and Blossom both had a penchant for sticking their noses in places they shouldn't, so somewhere along the line—probably around the time they had broken into More Co. to follow a lead and diffused a hostage situation at the Mayor's Manor—they figured it was easier to be friends, not enemies.

They were chalking up to be Townsville's resident Sherlock and Watson, except they both fancied themselves Sherlock and the other Watson, but, eh, what relationship was perfect?

This time around, they were investigating some strange chemical. The only lead they had come from Blossom's own father. He had apparently said something "cryptic" over Sunday brunch that had launched Blossom into overdrive. Eavesdropping on one of her old man's telephone conversations, she had listened to him mutter about the letter X, failed mutations, a strict deadline, and an explosion that may or may not have been the same explosion at the 'abandon' smelting factory two weeks ago.

She took the information personally since it involved her father, but Brick had met the man before and didn't think there was an evil bone in his body. The lab he worked for, though, was an entirely different story. H.I. Mechanics was one hundred different kinds of shady.

Three days from now, Blossom had decided that he would need to have the, again, two hundred and fifty million preliminary tasks done before their big stakeout. She’d be lucky if he decided to do three of them, but he entertained her ramblings anyway because the longer he stuck around her place, the longer he got to bum her cable.

That had become their routine. Meet at Blossom's place, let her rant like an anal madwoman, ignore her in favor of the reality trash tv that he loved but could not afford at his own apartment, and then have whatever painstakingly thought-out plan Blossom had concocted backfire on them in the near distant future. The process was like clockwork.

"—and if we go in at that time, really, why would they refuse us entry? The records we're looking for should technically be public record, though they're no doubt redacted. We're going to have to—you're not listening to me, are you?"

"Yeah," he hummed, more focused on the reality tv season wrap-up reunion he was watching, then whatever she was talking about, "that sounds good."

"So, you're not." She snipped, and the tone of her voice caught his attention.

"Huh?" He glanced at her for a moment before looking back at the tv, "Not what?

"Listening to me." She gave him a cross look, stepping in front of the tv, "You're not listening to me.

"Whaaa?" He tried sounding offended as he attempted to shoo her out of the way, "Noooo, what gave you that impression?"

"Listen," she snapped her fingers in front of his face a few times, and he felt his face scrunch up in distaste—he wasn't a dog, "both of my sisters are going to be home soon, and I don't want them to get mixed up in all of this, so we need to drill out the details of this plan before they get home!"

Blossom lived with her sisters—Buttercup, and Bubbles—in a two-bedroom apartment close to the University in downtown Townsville. All three went to TownU, which wasn't too surprising to Brick. It was an incredibly good school, and he'd admit all three of them were smart, but still, three for three had to be a little weird, right? And to think, people accused him and his brothers of being joined at the hips.

He gave her a dry look as she walked back to her spot on the carpet. "We both know that's not how this works."

Blossom slammed the book she had opened shut, "You're impossible."

"I think you meant to say consistent." He spared her one last glance before settling back into the recliner, "Really, Bloss, how in the world do you think you'd be able to keep this one from them? At this point, my brothers just assume I'm at the center of the mayhem."

She tsked, but the lack of argument was deafening. After a moment, she sighed, and her shoulders dropped, "I just don't want them to get hurt. Not like last time."

"Don't know what you're so worried about." He drawled, "I recall them saving us, not the other way around."

"And I recall the scar that's now running up and down Butters' back." She shot back, "This time, there will be no mess-ups."

"Yeah, wanna bet on—"

"Home!" Buttercup's voice rang throughout the apartment as the front door was slammed open and shut, "How we feeling about take-out—Oh, sup, Brick. You good with Chinese tonight?"

"We're working on school stuff!" Blossom exclaimed, scrambling to cover up the more elicit details of their ‘homework.'

Buttercup rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip, "I can tell. What's it this time, huh? Something normal or is there a bomb threatening to reactivate the volcano in Townsville Central Park that I should be made aware of?"

"It's norm—"

"—mutants." He interrupted Blossom, "The man funding your dad's company is sups sketch."

Buttercup shifted on her feet and crossed her arms, "Does this have to do with that Chemical-X stuff dad was talking about?"

"Don't you have a shower you should be taking?" Blossom huffed, glaring at the both of them, "You just finished a run, I can tell; you smell like a pig."

"That's what tipped you off?" Buttercup snorted, "Not the copious amount of sweat dripping down my face? Hey," she nodded her head at them, "ask me how my run went."

Together, he and Blossom rolled their eyes and sighed, "How'd your run—"

"Really well, wow, thanks for asking!" Buttercup smiled, "I beat my average, sooo think hard about what where you want to order from for dinner tonight. We're celebrating! I already texted Bubs," Buttercup stuck her tongue out at them, "she was much more enthusiastic."

"Then celebrate with her," Blossom frowned from her spot on the floor, fingering the edges of her notebook, "we've got a lot to finish tonight. I don't think we'll have—"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen here, hero-girl," Buttercup scowled, hands back on her hips, "you still gotta eat. Ima take a shower, you have till then to put the spy shit away. Speaking of spy shit," her glare shifted to him, "your brother done fixing my car yet?"

"Ask him, babe." He sniffed, looking pointedly at the tv, "I ain't the middleman."

He suppressed the urge to bulk as Buttercup lifted him up off the recliner by the collar of his shirt. A dark smile snuck its way across her face as she leaned close into him, "Considering the fact that you owe me for getting it destroyed in the first place, baby, then I think you are."

"A lesson in forgiveness would do you well, but fine, I'll ask." He sneered back, unwillingly to show the dread that ran up his spine when he saw the look in her eyes, "You do realize, though, it'd be faster if you just called—"

"Nope!" She sang, dropping him back down in the seat, like nothing had just transpired between them, "If he wants my number, he has to ask for it!" She walked down the hall towards the bathroom, "I don't make the rules."

He scowled, watching her walk away before turning his head back to Blossom, "She's lucky I owe her."

"You're lucky," Buttercup called from down the hallway, "that I saved your sorry ass!"

Blossom snorted, and he shot her a dirty look, "Don't encourage her."

"Oh, be quiet," Blossom snickered, "just watch TV like you always do, and I'll put—"

"I'm home!" A high, singsong voice rang through the house, as the door was once again thrown open, and his heart palpitated without permission. He forced his eyes to focus on the tv, and if Blossom noticed how he sunk low into the recliner, she thankfully didn't say anything.

"In here!" Blossom called back, and from the corner of his eye, he watched as Bubbles stuck her head around the corner. Quickly, he turned his attention back to the tv and tried his best not to seem at all interested as she practically danced her way into the room. She was always practically dancing everywhere she went. It was annoying.

"Blossy, oh my god, you will not believe what—Brick!" She exclaimed, shoving a finger in his face when she noticed he was in the room, "Wai—Brick Jojo! Do not move from that spot!"

He blinked and looked around at the spot he had forged for himself in their living room. His bookbag, snack bags, disregarded textbooks, and his jacket littered the space around him, and his body had imprinted into the recliner's seat cushions, so when he looked back at Bubbles and gave her a dry look, he meant it when he said, "Yeah, wasn't planning on it."

He looked away quickly when she beamed at him. Her smile was bright, sweet, and dimply, and also very annoying. People couldn't always be so immovably happy, could they?

Bubbles giggled and did a little hoppy-dance before she calmed down and looked back at him, "Ahhh, okay!" She wagged a finger at him, "You stay! I've got a surpriiiisseee for you."

"Again," He huffed, ignoring all the less-than-innocent surprise scenarios his traitorous brain played through, "wasn't going anywhere."

"If you're not going anywhere, why don't you actually do some work while you wait." Blossom's voice bit through the air, but he ignored her, going back to flipping through the tv.

"Yeeepp," He popped, his tone no drier than hers, "wasn't planning on that either."

Blossom mumbled to herself and looked at Bubbles, "Before you go, can you help me with these books? I'm putting them in my bedroom."

Bubbles held out her arms, moving around the recliner and out of his field of vision, "No prob-lamo, chica! What's this all for?"

"Don't worry about it." Blossom brushed Bubbles off, and her sister giggled again.

"What?" The blonde snorted, "Is there a bomb in the volcano?"

He could practically hear the way Blossom stiffened, "Why does everyone keep saying—do people think there's a bomb in the—"

"Blossom!" He groaned, "I'm fucking hungry, hurry up."

She hmphed and stomped out of the living room with Bubbles presumably following, so he relaxed in his seat, ready to blow out the deep breath he was holding when Bubbles' visage filled his vision.

Her smile crinkled the corners of her baby blue eyes, and the back of his neck instantly warmed at the proximity. He wasn't one for people invading his personal space, but Bubbles literally had no freaking concept of it. She was always shoving her face in his. So, unfortunately, Brick was very aware of the sun freckles that littered their way throughout her cheeks and it was particularly distressing because staring at her face made it easier to forget the No Touching Rule he was pretty adamant about people following.

"Stay." She reminded him; her tone tinged with lingering laughter. This close, she smelt like the physical embodiment of a bakery, and it took a significant amount of willpower to pull his eyes away from her.

"Whatever." He mumbled.

With another giggle—always with the dumb giggling—she was gone, and he was finally alone to collect himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a string of particularly nasty curse words at himself. Objectively, he was well aware that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were…attractive, but he was never actually supposed to be attracted to any of them. They were the girls. They were just the girls. Ever since he had known them, they had been just the girls.

Blossom had a stick up her ass.

Buttercup could probably disembowel him.

And Bubbles giggled and smiled.

And it didn't matter if she giggled and smiled at him. Because she giggled and smiled at everything. She was one of those people, the kind of person that gave someone their undivided attention in a room full of people. She was good at making people feel good about themselves. She didn’t do it just for him. No see, if he was attracted to Bubbles, which he wasn't, it was because she was very good at making all people feel seen. So, he wasn't special. He wasn't. And it just—she would…he wasn't used to people just automatically assuming the good in him. People so optimistic tended to avoid him.

The positive attention was just making his head spin, making things confusing, and that was it. He wasn't one of those sad, lonely guys who mistook niceness for flirting. He had a clear head on his shoulders. It was just attention he was unused to. And it was a kind of attention he didn't need. Bubbles was just a nuisance. Her personality was too sweet. They were so different. Even if he did actually end up somehow magically liking her, it wouldn't work between them in a million years.

Besides, everyone already knew that pretty social butterflies didn't actually go for anti-social dweebs. Real-life wasn't an overdramatic coming-of-age rom-com. Realistically, she probably went for guys like Boomer.

He let out a shaky breath and turned up the volume on the tv. Some housewife was crying about something laughably petty, but he couldn't find it in himself to smile.

A second later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hands clasped together over his eyes. He only relaxed when he heard Bubbles voice nice and warm next to his ear. "Peak-a-boo," she laughed, "guess who!"

He ignored the way her breath tickled his neck and frowned into the darkness, "A heart attack?"

"Oof, so close!" She snorted, releasing her hands from his face and leaning around the recliner, so he could see her smiling at him, "It's Bubbles!"

"Hello, Bubbles." He droned, not resisting the way his eyes rolled but fighting the way his mouth was trying to twitch into a smile.

"Ready for your surpriiisse!" She sang, walking around the chair so she could stand in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back. He pressed his way further into the recliner after their knees knocked together, distancing himself from her.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "What is it?"

"It's a gift!" She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, still smiling.

"Okaayyy." He reached a hand out with grabby fingers, "Let's get this over with, give it here."

She tilted her head back and laughed, a real honest belly laugh, before she looked down at him again, and suddenly, he felt tiny under her gaze. "Oh, my goodness, Brick," She chided, "I'm not just gonna hand it to you! Close your eyes and hold out your hands!"

He adjusted the brim of his hat lower down his face and looked away, "I don't—"

"I said—" she repeated, reaching a hand out to pull his hat down completely over his eyes, "Close your eyes!"

"Fine." He hissed, trying to sound as grumpy as he was pretending to be and readjusted his hat as he shut his eyes, "They're closed. Happy?"

"Hold out your hands!"

He sighed but complied, and after a bit of shuffling on Bubbles' part, something small was placed in his hands.

"Okay," she announced, "now open your eyes!"

He opened his eyes and stared at the little…thing in his hands. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he figured it was some kind of fluffy…hat…keychain? He didn't know. He gave it a quizzical look before returning his stare to Bubbles.

"Ta-da!" she sang, accompanied by a pair of jazz hands, before she clapped them together, "Do you like it!"

"What…is it?"

There was a pause, and the smile on Bubbles's face fell away. "What is it!" She huffed, cheeks puffed out like an angry chipmunk, which was the worst angry face she could have because it just made her cuter, "It's a dog keychain!"

"This—" he held the keychain up for both of them to examine, "—is not a dog. It's a ball of fluff."

Bubbles' mouth dropped open, "It totally is! Look," she snatched it out of his hands, smooshing the fluff down so she could show off its' pointed ears, stubby little legs, and tail, "see! Puppy! A little Pomeranian! Baby puppy! Puppy, puppy, puppy!"

With something akin to bloodcurdling embarrassment pulsing through his veins, he watched as Bubbles continued to baby talk the offensive keychain, placing a tiny peck on its' small nose.

"And look!" She gushed, shoving it back into his face, "Look at its wittle red hat!" She squealed, bring it back to her so she could cuddle it to her face, "It's so cute I can't even!" Without warning, she dropped into his lap, which was around the same time his heart dropped into his stomach, "I saw it and thought of you immediately!"

He froze at the admission. He had never once thought of himself as someone who short-circuited very often, but people didn't compare him to a cute Pomeranian keychain very often either. In fact, he had been called a lot of things in his short lifespan—wiseass, smartass, punkass, there was a very consistent theme of derogatory titles thrown at him on the daily—but cute Pomeranian was not one of them. And, frankly, he couldn't say he was a fan.

"Are you comparing me to a Pomeranian?" He sneered, momentarily forgetting the fact that Bubbles Utonium was making herself comfortable on his lap, and he was neglecting to stop her.

"Duh!" She said rather flippantly, pushing the brim of his hat up and off his face, so they could look at each other. Another definite no-no that he was too flabbergasted to address.

"I would not be a Pomeranian!" He argued when he collected his jaw off the ground.

"Uhhh, yes, you would, lol." She argued back, playing with the fluffy little keychain in her hands. She kissed its face again, and in turn, his face only got hotter.

"Uhhhhhh," he mocked, "no, I wouldn't be."

She looked up from the keychain and gave him a somewhat patronizing look, "Yes, you would be."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She laughed, "Brick, yes! You're just like a Pomeranian! You're super intelligent, curious, feisty, you like being the center of attention," she looked off for a second in thought, waving a hand in the air as she talked, "and you've definitely got some tiny dog syndrome in you."

He blinked at her, gaping, as his brain worked overload to find something to dispute in that analysis, but when he couldn't find any, he spat at her, "Why do you know all this shit about Pomeranians, huh?"

"They're one of my favorite breeds!" Her face lit up, "They're just so cute! I love them! And you remind me of them, so I got this for you!" She held the keychain up again, "It's so cute!"

His mind ground to a sudden halt as the words' cute' and 'love' and 'you' repeatedly echoed in his head. His heart hammered away in his chest, and in his panic, he contemplated throwing her off his lap and burning the whole apartment complex to the ground. What was one more arson charge on his record, anyway?

"Bubs—stop saying…so what?" He asked, floundering before changing tactics. She wasn't the only one who could say embarrassing shit. "Does that mean you think I'm cute or something?" He flirted with a smirk, but it was only after the sentence left his mouth that he remembered Bubbles Utonium didn't get embarrassed. She smiled and giggled.

And that continued to ring turn even now, as she laughed, wrapping her arms around hia neck, she squeezed him. Only letting go of him slightly, to the bring the keychain up to his face, so she could bop the little dog’s nose and his nose together. "Of course!" She agreed, "Cute as a button!"

"N-no!" He sputtered.

"No," she pulled away from the crook of his neck, tilting her head in question, "what?"

"No," he sneered, "I'm not cute like a button."

She considered this for a second, tapping the keychain to her face, before shooting him a broad smile, "Handsome? Is that better?" Mirth tinkled in her big doe eyes, "You're our handsome boy?"

"That's worse!" He complained almost hysterically, running a frantic hand through his hair, knocking the hat he had somehow forgotten he had on from his head.

"Aw, Brick, come on," She rolled her eyes, catching the hat before it fell to the ground and plopping it on her head, "what do you want me to say then?"

"The truth never hurt," He spat as if he hadn't lied through his teeth at least three different times this week to three professors that he couldn't attend class because his beloved family pet 'Insert Name Here' had died.

Bubbles pouted, "But I told you the truth! I think you're handsome!" She held up the keychain, and with a horribly fake and cheesy deep voice, she used the gift as a puppet, "You're the most handsomest boy in the whole world!"

She solidified her point by making the keychain kiss his nose once more before pulling back to gape at him, "Wow, see even Mr. Puppy agrees with me!"

"Oh, right," he shook his head, in mock agreement, "a handsome boy with little dog syndrome, right?"

"Well," she shrugged, waving him off, "I never said you were charming."

His retort was caught off with a giggle, and she made the keychain kiss his nose once, then twice, and then his breath hitched as a third wet kiss was planted on his cheek by Bubbles herself. She pulled back with a coy smile.

"Brick…" she hummed, trailing off, and something about her tone made him swallow thickly.

"Y-yeah." He finally pushed out after a moment.

"Can I play with your hair?" She asked, leaning forward, laying her head on his shoulder as she twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, and he swore his soul left his body. No one, absolutely no one, touched his hair. No one wore his hat. No one sat on his lap. And here she was. And here he was. And he wasn't stopping her like he should have been.

"Uhh, umm, I—uhh—"

"Bubs, jeez!"

He jumped, choking on his own spit, as Buttercup marched into the room, her hair still dripping wet.

"Seriously, personal space, you're making him uncomfortable." Buttercup huffed, one hand on her hip as he gestured to his face, which was probably redder than his hat.

"Uncomfy!" Bubbles shot up, and a guilty look flashed across her face as she took in his face, "Ah, shoot, sorry, is this too much?" She took her arms away from his neck and wrung her hands together, for the first time blushing, "I just get too excited sometimes! I have a lotta love in my heart, ya know?" She finished with a bashful chuckle.

The small distance between them actually made it a little easier to think again, but she didn't need to know that. Embarrassed by the noticeable flush of his face and his reaction to Buttercup catching them, Brick shrugged and looked away, "You're fine."

That was apparently not good enough for Bubbles because she pleaded again, "I'm sorry!"

"I said," he hissed, wishing she'd drop it, "you're fine!"

"I'm still so sorry!" Looking back over, he was surprised to see her lower lip wobbling, "I shouldn't have forgotten!" She put her hands on her face, squishing her cheeks, as tears began to well in her eyes, and he sent a frantic look over towards Buttercup, "I know you're not a hugger, I should have asked and—"

"—Bubs, he said he was fine." Buttercup interjected again, "Now, you're just making him uncomfortable all over!"

Bubbles looked from Buttercup to him, back to Buttercup, and then finally to him once more. "You're fine?" She clarified, “This is okay?”

And all he could do was nod, "Yep."

Visibly relaxing, her eyes became less and less watery, and she shot him a relieved look.

"Sheesh." Buttercup mumbled and walked away, "zero to one hundred. Bloss!" She called out, "Come save your poor counterpart from the clutches of cuddly evil over here and let's order the food!"

"What!" Blossom called from her room down the hall.

With an exasperated huff on Buttercup’s part and something more frantic on his part, they both yelled out, "Food!" and there was a scoff from the bedrooms.

"No need to yell!" She shot back, "I'm coming!"

Buttercup shook her head before jabbing her thumb in the direction of their tiny kitchen and announced, "I'm getting the take-out menus."

Bubbles nodded and then, beamed when she noticed Blossom had walked into the room.

"Blossom! Look at this cute keychain I got for Brick!" She cooed, her eyes bright and excited again, which would have brought him some relief if she hadn't opened her big mouth and kept talking, "Doesn't it remind you of him? It's a Pomeranian!"

Face aflame once more, he snapped, "I'm not a Pomeranian!"

"Ho—ly shit!" Obnoxious laughter floated its way out of the kitchen that only made him grind his teeth, "He totally is!"

"It's the little dog syndrome." Blossom agreed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and ignoring the crude gesture he shot her way as she walked past him towards the kitchen, "BC, let's order from Lee's!"

"No way!" Buttercup argued, "Pa Changs!"

He turned back to Bubbles, who, despite it all, had yet to remove herself from his lap. He was about to make some remark about him pushing her off of his lap in the next three seconds, but the way her eyes flinted over his face made him pause. When she realized she had been caught staring, she smiled once more, bright and beaming, and his heart did another funny little dance.

"You like it, right?" She tilted her head, holding the keychain up so it dangled between them, "I…I can take it back if you want."

Her smile fell the slightest of fractions along with his heart.

"No!" His hand shot out, taking hold of the keychain, "It's—I like it, whatever." He sniffed and turned his head away, "So quit the kicked puppy shit, alright?"

Another smile. Another giggle. It felt like a sick joke, but Brick was pretty sure he was falling in love.

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

A/N: That’s right! It seems the only way I can write romance is with a shit ton of pining!!!! To love is to long, I guess. It’s a little awkward in some places, but it was for fun, so I decided to cut myself some slack and post it anyway! I hope you like it!!! The pairing doesn’t get a lot of love, but I think opposites attract dynamic is so so so cute.

Also, sorry this took me forever! First, I got distracted looking at cute dog pics and then halfway through writing the drabble I was like “hey what if I stuck Blossom in this and she and Brick solved mysteries??” So, then I lived with that AU floating around in my head rent-free, and now, finally, here we are. ANYWAY, in this AU, Blossom is in a very sapphic relationship with Princess, who, along with HIM, is the main antagonist. The Professor is the damsel in distress btws. Brick and Bubbles are disgusting cute. Boomer’s gay, who for tho?? Who knows! Not me! But he’s a freelancer, who’s hardcore freeloading off of Brick and Butch, and that’s all you really need to know. Buttercup has big Mom Friend vibes. Also, Butch is a mechanic and playfully flirts with Buttercup, which she thinks is funny until he actually starts really flirting with her, and then she’s like “um, sir, I am a maiden???” b/c she is actually both shy and a prude. (And you know I like my greens) Anyway, el oh el, it’s a good time.

inspo for the keychain (and brick):

#ppg fic drabble #i love you prompts #brickxbubs #my writing

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