#it was a school issued backpack so it was fine he immediately got a new one

[nexus-nebulae]

very randomly remembered how I used to have a bunch of old my little pony toys and for some fucking reason if Any of my mlp toys had brushable manes the first thing I'd do is chop them off so i just had a ton of bald mlps

[ragingbookdragon]

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

[juliaia]

Snowfall

—————————————————————

summary: shadyside gets its first snowfall of the year, you and simon take a snow-day and talk about being lonely on the holidays.

pairing: simon kalivoda x gn!reader

warnings: swears, ditching school, general teenage hijinks, bad writing probably—also I really tried to keep this in the 1990s, but I’m pretty bad at that, so forgive me if I’ve let some sort of modern reference slip!

a/n: got kinda bored during class, and the place where I live still hasn’t gotten any measurable snow (i believe it’s the new late-snowfall record for my state!). I try to keep it pretty neutral when talking about holidays and the readers family (at least in terms of your family members), so it’s easier to put yourself into the story no matter what your family situation is like or what holiday you celebrate, but I apologize if I say anything that makes this feel too Christmas-y. Also, apologies for any issues with the formatting of this, first fic I’ve posted here!

—————————————————————

It is Monday, December 20th, there are three days left in the semester, 11 left in the year, and Shadyside has yet to be graced with it’s first snowfall.

You’re sitting on your sofa, looking out the window as you wait for Simon to pull up out front. Your backpack is sitting on the ground near your feet, and you’re beginning to sweat from your heavy jacket—no snow does not mean no cold, it’s a near-freezing 27°F outside.

The sky is a heavy grey, and the grass has frozen into crisp yellow-brown chunks on the ground.

You’re beginning to drift off into your own head when Simon finally pulls into the driveway, honking the horn and waving to you out the driver’s side window.

You pull yourself off the couch, hauling your backpack onto your shoulders and snatching your keys off the coffee table as you hurry out the front door.

Simon leans over to kiss you as you clip into the passenger seat.

“Hi babe.” He says. You smile.

“Hi. Thanks.” You say. He nods.

“Sorry I’m late.” He says, giving you an apologetic smile. You shrug.

“It’s fine. Just glad I don’t have to walk.” You say, as he begins the route to school.

Usually, you two talk a lot more on the ride to school, but it’s Monday and you’re tired and outside everything is bathed in gloomy shades of grey, and you aren’t really in the mood to chat.

You’re leaning your head back against the seat, drifting in and out of consciousness in the dim, early morning light.

You feel the car slow, and you flick your eyes open.

You’re on a road lined with houses, and Simon is staring out the front window, squinting up at the sky—the sky that is now dotted with heavy white specks.

“Is that—“

“Snow! It’s snowing.” Simon scrambles to park on the side of the road and roll down the window, sticking his arm out and watching as the snowflakes land and melt almost immediately on his warm hand. You roll down your own window, sticking your hand out to feel the cold flakes against your skin.

“You down to ditch?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow.

“We’ve only got three days left.” You say. He grins.

“Exactly. Besides, it’s a special occasion.” Simon gestures to the snow outside. You hum in consideration.

It is a special occasion.

“I’m down.”

There’s not nearly enough snow for anything like sledding, or snowball fights, but there’s certainly enough for the two of you to sit in an empty park and drink hot coffee on a bench while you watch the snow fall.

“It’s so pretty.” Simon says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You smile and nod, and Simon turns his face skyward and sticks out his tongue, hoping to catch some snowflakes.

Winter break has snuck up on you. October looks further and further away with each passing day, and although you know you won’t ever forget what happened with Nick Goode and Sarah Fier—you’ve been left with too much fear, in the form of near-death experiences, nightmares, and a few scars from Ruby Lane—the experience has found its place in your past. Just a really, really, shitty week out of the dozens of shitty weeks that will make up your senior year.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so reflective today. Why you’re spending so much time in your head, trying to sort through your thoughts and feelings. It’s not bad, it’s just…distracting. You’d much rather enjoy the day with Simon, but it’s proving to be a bit difficult.

“Hey.” Simon gives your hand a squeeze, and you glance up at him.

“Hm?”

“You okay?” He asks. You smile apologetically, face warming pleasantly at his ability to read your moods.

“Sorry, just a little in my own head right now.” You explain. He nods and leans over to kiss you on the forehead.

“I’m hoping my manager’ll give me the week off.” He says. You can tell he’s trying to distract you, and you give him your most appreciative look.

“Tammy? Fat chance.” You say. He laughs.

“No, c’mon, Tammy likes me! I’m her favorite employee.” He says. You nod.

“Five days till Christmas, you’ll be busy.”

“I deserve a week off.”

“You do. Doesn’t mean you’ll get one.” You say. He pecks you on the nose.

“Be optimistic with me.” He says. You laugh, but nod again. “What’s your family doing for the holidays?” He asks. You frown.

“Working.” You say. He gives you a sympathetic smile.

“My mom says you can join us if you want. For our Christmas dinner and whatever. I’d be totally fine with you joining us all break.” He says, giving you a playful nudge. You smile.

“That’d be nice.” You say, rubbing your shoulders absentmindedly against the brisk air.

“Cold?” Simon asks. You shrug.

“Little bit.”

“Me too, wanna go back to your house?” He asks. You nod, and the two of you start back to the car, tossing your empty coffee cups in a trash can on the way.

When you get home, you push the door shut against the chill, and Simon collapses onto your couch as you wrestle with your jacket.

“Shoes.” You say. He gives a little grumble and kicks off his boots, stretching out his arms to reach for you.

“C’mere please.” He says. You smile, pulling off your own shoes and tossing your backpack near the door, crossing the living room to climb onto the sofa beside Simon.

He wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Hi, clingy.” You say. Simon laughs.

“I thought you were cold? I’m trying to warm you up.” He says. You roll your eyes, but reach down to take his hands in yours and kiss the tips of his fingers.

“Love you.” You say. Simon kisses your shoulder gently.

“Love you too.” He says.

“It’s so quiet here.” He says after a moment. You chuckle.

“Cause it’s empty.” You say. Simon gently squeezes your hands.

“You don’t get lonely?” He asks. You shrug.

“You’re here.”

“But what about when I’m not?” He asks. You let go of his hands and turn over to face him.

“You worrying about me?” He bumps his forehead against yours.

“Mhm.”

“I get a little lonely. Not very.” You say. Simon kisses your forehead.

“Well, you know you can always call me, even if you’re only a little lonely.” He says. You laugh and nod.

“Thank you Si’…why’d you ask that?”

“Hm?”

“Why’re you asking if I’m lonely?”

“I just know how you get around the holidays.” He says. You smile.

“You’re sweet.” He gives you a smug grin.

“I know.” You’ve found Simon has a talent for killing even the loveliest of moods. 

You groan and roll your eyes, pushing him away and burying your face into his shirt. “When we get outta here, I swear I’ll never let you be lonely again. You’ll get so sick of me.” He says, squeezing you tightly against his warm chest. You laugh.

“I could never get sick of you.” You say. He tilts your face back up towards him.

“Mean that?” He asks. You nod.

“Mean it.“

You do. You really do. Of all the things you’ve found in Shadyside, Simon (and of course, Deena, Kate, Josh, and Sam) has been one of the few good things. He’s sweet, and he’s warm, and he makes you laugh, and he has sat and been your shoulder to cry on countless times, and above all else—Simon has become your home. Your friends have become your family.

Against all odds, you have carved out a place of your own in Shadyside, and as the first snow of the season falls outside, you sit, warm and happy, on your sofa with Simon—who of course, is relentlessly trying to cajole you into putting on a cheesy holiday movie.

[typical-simplelove]

Since We Were Three (J. Oleksiak)

Summary: What happens when you go work for the Dallas Stars and your childhood enemy plays for them, too?

A/n: Here is a fun enemies to lovers I wrote. This is the first time I've ever written for that trope, but I want to write more so buckle up! Enjoy this!!

Warnings: people doing things enemies do (sorry, that's really vague), mentions of sex, breaking/spraining ankles

Word Count: 12.1k

You didn’t expect to move to Dallas; it wasn’t even on your radar. All you really remember is sitting at your parents' house back home and you got an email from your Linkedin saying that there was a position open for something you were qualified for. You didn’t even bother to look at where it was; you opened the application, read the prerequisites, and filled it out. You were desperate to get a job, so it didn’t matter. Only after you emailed your application did you realize where it was - Dallas. It didn’t even register in your mind at the time that your former neighbor and lifelong enemy lives in Dallas or plays for the Dallas Stars, the organization you just sent an application for. They were looking for someone to work in their marketing department. If you knew that your former neighbor and lifetime enemy was working for the Dallas Stars, then you’d probably not have submitted the application. You decided, however, that the pros greatly outweighed the cons, and you doubted that you’d ever need to interact with the players unless they had a marketing issue. You doubt they would, right?

You got an email three days later asking for an interview. You emailed them back saying that you lived in Canada and weren’t sure if you could make it down for an interview. Thankfully, they said that they’d be willing to have a virtual interview; however, you’d have to be willing to move to Dallas for the job. You knew for a fact that you’d be more than willing to move to Dallas. That wasn’t the problem. So, you and the Dallas Stars’ representative set a time for your virtual meeting. You had the interview, and it seemed like they liked you. You got an email three days later that you got the job; you moved to Dallas three days after that and started four days later.

You completely forgot about the fact that your enemy slash former neighbor was in Dallas until your mother brought it up.

“Hey, yn, you know, you don’t not know anyone in Dallas.” You were confused. You literally moved to a country in which you knew no one.

“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jamie, remember him? Jamie Oleksiak. You hated him growing up. Well, remember, he plays for the Dallas Stars. You should contact him.”

The normal warmth in your face immediately drained. Yeah, now you remember. The only reason you had the slightest inkling as to what Jamie was up to was because your mother and his mother were good friends. You don’t care for him at all.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright and tell your mother “no”, so you pivoted. “Maybe,” you said and your mother seemed to think that meant that you’d be reaching out to Jamie. You weren’t. You were going to do everything in your power to try to avoid him. There was no way that someone who worked in marketing would ever come in contact with any of the players, right? You didn’t work in media that was in constant contact with the team, and you didn’t work in anything to do with the contracts or paychecks. As long as you keep a quiet profile, you expect you should be fine, right?

This worked for your first season working with Stars. You were new and a few years out of college, so your more experienced colleagues made sure to observe what you were doing. You were happy with this. Before working in Dallas, you only worked for one small company and you were one of two people in the marketing department. The reason you were looking for a new job was that this company went bankrupt. Yeah, you were grateful for the oversight you received. You made it one year without seeing, hearing, talking to, or being around Jamie. The fact that the two of you were in the same city made your blood boil. You hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being, and you hoped to avoid him as much as possible.

You went into the second season thinking that you’d have the ability to remain anonymous to the team and stay in your lane. This, unfortunately, did not work. You went to work on the morning that training camp started. You sat at your desk and noticed that everyone was quite angsty. You turned to a friend and asked what was going on. She told you that someone from management was coming to find people to work for the GM, specifically, someone in marketing. You knew that you’d be the last one selected considering your lack of experience. You were wrong.

The minute the representative from the GM’s offices walked in and saw your application, you were swept up and taken to their offices. Happy with the new promotion, you didn’t realize that you’d be closer to Jamie.

The notion hit you nine days after you were promoted when Tyler Seguin walked into the office and walked over to you.

“Yn, right?” he says and you nod. “We need someone to fill in with media personnel and they asked for you.”

“Oh!” you say; you had experience in media but not that much to get a recommendation.

“Yeah, they said to be there at 1:30pm.”

“Thanks,” you tell Tyler; he smiles at you and waves.

So you were going to be getting closer to the team than you thought.

. . .

As you walked down the hall towards the locker room, you ran right into the wall. Except it wasn’t a wall.

“Oh, you’re not a wall,” you say mostly to yourself. It was a very hard and firm person.

“So, you’re telling me you would have walked into me also if I were a wall?” You look up and see none other than Jamie Oleksiak looking back at you.

His beautiful eyes made you want to throw up. There was no word to express how much you hated him. Literally just staring at him for a second made you want to run away and scream.

“I, no, I just thought I had more time before I had to turn the corner.”

“Sure,” he says in a voice that makes you want to punch him; however, looking at him, you know it wouldn’t hurt at all and do the damage you wanted. Since when did he get so big? “Hey, Yn. I heard you started working for the Stars organization. Welcome to Dallas.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not my welcome party. And I’ve been in Dallas for almost a year.” You immediately back up but trip over your feet. Jamie instantly reaches out and helps you balance. You feel your face suddenly grow warm. Why did Jamie’s enormously large hands have this effect on you?

“You always were quite clumsy growing up. Tripping and falling for me, I mean in front of me.” Jamie’s joke didn’t go past you. It infuriated you. He liked to think that you were in love with him. You weren’t.

“You know, the only reason I kept on falling was because you kept tripping me. It’s your fault.” You storm away angrily and head to where you need to be.

Jamie smiles after you. “That’s the feistiness that I remember.”

You turn around and glare at him. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

. . .

You’ve hated Jamie Oleksiak since he tripped you in daycare when you were three years old. The first three years of your life, you didn’t mind Jamie. Your mothers were best friends, and you were both neighbors. Your parents were both ER surgeons and sometimes they had to go in for emergency surgery. This was one of those days. Your father was already working and your mother was called in for emergency surgery, so Jamie’s mother was going to pick you up from preschool. You put on your small, sparkly light purple backpack and followed Jamie and his mother out the door. The minute you were about to cross the parking lot, Jamie stuck his foot out and you tripped and fell on your face. You didn’t immediately feel the pain until Jamie’s mother helped you up and mentioned that your face was bleeding. You touched your face and began to cry. Jamie tripped you purposefully and now your face was bleeding. From that day forward, you hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being. How could someone who was supposed to be your friend and care for you purposefully hurt you? Where was the logic in that? Why could Jamie purposefully hurt you unless he didn’t like you? He must hate you to want to hurt you.

It wasn’t just because he tripped you; Jamie began to make your life miserable. From taunting you on the playground to tripping you all the time. It continued into kindergarten and elementary school. Middle school was terrible. He taunted you and made fun of you. He always found ways to make anything you were enthusiastic about a reason to taunt you. He joined clubs because you were in them and so he could bring his stupid with him who would the experience unenjoyable for you. You remember your parents telling you to ignore him and Jamie probably had a crush on you. He didn’t. He just out of nowhere opted to make your life miserable.

It only got worse in high school. As his popularity grew in high school as a result of hockey, he only became more cocky and unbearable. He always found a way to make you miserable. Whenever you had any remote crush or boyfriend, Jamie always swept in and ruined it for you. By the time you graduated and went to college, you were ready to leave the horrors that Jamie brought on to you. You were quite proud of the fact that despite your mothers being friends, you had no idea about anything to do with Jamie’s life. You went to college and built a life that was the exact opposite of the misery that Jamie brought into your life.

. . .

You walk into the locker room and Carrie, one of the other media execs, greets you. “Yn, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“We need you to fill in for a few weeks with our media team because one of the media personnel had to leave for a family emergency. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Carrie laughs. “It’s not too hard. You just have to take photos and videos of the team during warmups, practices, and stuff like that. If you know how to use Instagram, then you should be great.”

“Well, then, I think I should be good.”

“We’re going to give you a separate phone to use that you can just keep at your desk in the GM’s offices.”

“Perfect, that sounds great.” You and Carrie continue to talk and work out the little details about your new temporary position. You walked back to your desk in the GM’s offices with a smile on your face. You were happy to have this new position. At first, I didn’t recall to you that you’d have to be in contact with the team. When you heard Jamie’s voice echoing through the halls, your blood began to boil. You definitely weren’t looking forward to having to have to work with him.

. . .

The day after you got the word that you were filling in with the Media Department, you started right away. You were told to sit in the practice arena ready to take photos and videos of the team. As the practice was ending, Carrie asked you to head to the locker room and take one-minute interviews with the players. She gave you the list of players: Tyler Seguin, John Klingberg, Esa Lindell, Roope Hintz, and, much to your disappointment, Jamie Oleksiak. You sighed. You really didn’t want to have to talk to him, but you were going to be professional and try not to let him get to you.

You walk towards the locker room and Carrie tells you to wait a moment; the players aren’t ready. After fifteen minutes of small talk, you and Carrie walk into the locker room. The players that you and Carrie were going to interview were sitting on the bench waiting. You glance around the room and Jamie is looking at you with a curious eye.

“This is yn; she’s filling in for a few weeks as media personnel whilst Tristain is out with a family emergency,” Carrie explains. “Be nice to her please.”

Jamie meets your eye again and smirks. You roll your eyes and some of the players notice with confusion.

“Yn, why don’t you start with Tyler and I’ll start with John and we’ll work our way around?” Carrie explains.

You nod. You glance around the room and take note of who you’d be interviewing. You were going to be interviewing Jamie Oleksiak much to your disappointment. You get through the interview with Tyler, but he stops you before you can move on.

“What’s with you and Big Rig?” Tyler asks.

You smile at him trying to hide your disdain for your former friend. “Nothing, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Tyler laughs. “If you say so.”

You move on and interview Roope next. His interview made you giggle like a maniac behind the camera, and you didn’t notice the glares that Jamie gave his teammate and you.

You finish your interview with Roope and get ready to interview Jamie.

“Hi Jamie, ready for your interview?” you ask professionally.

“Yeah, I am,” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher but it’s already got your blood boiling. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“So, Jamie, tell me, what’s been the best part of the start of the new season?”

He puts a smirk on his face and you know exactly what he’s thinking - you’re not going to get an answer you like. “Uh, I’ve liked that I’ve been able to rekindle our companionship.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not what this is, and you have to give me a different answer.”

Jamie’s answer didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates and they were begging, no yearning, to ask more.

“Fine,” Jamie pauses briefly to think of another question. “I would say just being back with the team and skating with everyone again is probably the best part about the start of the new season.”

You nod and glance down at your list of questions. “What do you hope to get out of this new season?”

“Hopefully a Stanley Cup?” he says and quirks his eyebrows in a way that sends warmth to your face but also infuriates you. You nod in a sign of acknowledgment and Jamie can’t pass up the opportunity to get a rise out of you. “Maybe you, too.”

You instantly drop your notepad and glare up at him. What was his problem? Why was he like this? Jamie should know you hate him, so why does he suddenly think that you two were going to fix the hatred that’s been building for years? Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. “Can you please stop? Just so you know, I hate you, so whatever fantasy you’re playing out in your mind? It’s not happening, Jamie. Can you please stop making it harder for me to do my job?”

Jamie smirks. He knows he should stop, but he won’t. “I always liked watching you get frustrated at me.”

“Jamie! Just cut it out!”

“Is everything okay over here?” Carrie says, trying to calm the situation.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Jamie’s just rehashing things from our childhoods.” You explain.

“Wait, you two know each other?” John asks comically.

Jamie nods. “Know is not quite it, but yes.”

“What does that mean?” John asks

“That means that Yn hates me.”

“You hate me too, Jamie; don’t just put this on me. You’ve only ever made my life more difficult throughout every part of it.”

“Yn, why don’t you interview Esa, and I’ll finish with Jamie, that good?” Carrie suggests

“Yes, that works,” you walk over to Esa and breathe out a sigh of relief. Yeah, you knew that this was exactly what was going to happen.

You finished your interview with Esa, and you and Carrie walked out of the locker room to prep the videos to be posted.

“Dude, what did you do to make her so angry at you?” Esa asks. “It seems like your mere presence pisses her off.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does,” Jamie admits. “I can’t remember why; all I remember is that one day we started hating each other.”

“I’d hate to be in your shoes,” Tyler tells his teammate. “A pretty girl hates you, and you very obviously like her.”

Jamie pales. He didn’t think it was that obvious to anyone, ever. “What?”

Everyone laughs.

“It’s obvious,” Roope agrees. “You like her. Just the way you looked at her and acted around her. You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” Jamie grumbles.

“Dude, you were staring at her the entire time she was interviewing Roope. All the giggling made you jealous, didn’t it?” Esa states.

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t care. There is nothing but hate between us.” Jamie tries to defend himself. It’s useless; Jamie knows for a fact that he was jealous that Roope got to be on the receiving end of your giggles.

“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” John says.

It truly will be.

. . .

When you got home from work that day, you immediately called your best friend, Lisa, to tell her all about your day with Jamie.

“You know?” you being. “He’s just as infuriating as when we were children. He had the audacity to believe that we could possibly be friends. I mean, come on, the antipathy and rancor between us can be felt for miles and miles. He drives me crazy so much.”

Lisa was glad that you weren’t doing a video call because the smile on her face was wide. Deep down, she knows that there are other feelings besides this hate between you and Jamie; she just wasn’t sure if it would ever come out. “Maybe he wants to be nice again.”

“No, that’s not what this is. If he wanted to be nice and try to be friends again, then he wouldn’t have done exactly what he knew would drive me insane. It’s probably like caffeine to him; driving me insane is the coffee that wakes him up in the morning. You know, now, probably, he wakes up and hatches a plan to try to drive me insane.”

Lisa laughs. “Aren’t you taking this a bit far?”

“Absolutely not, I think I’m acting appropriately. You didn’t see his smirk; I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. Obviously, it wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him as he’s huge now.”

“Oh? Down there too?”

Your face warms suddenly, and you’re glad Lisa can’t see your face. “That’s not what I meant. He’s giant and super muscular. I guess you could assume that he’s packing quite a bit.”

“You know, yn, maybe this is just pent-up sexual tension and frustration. Maybe you just need to get laid and get laid by someone in particular.”

“You’re telling me that when we were seven when Jamie broke my ankle, that was pent-up sexual frustration?”

Lisa laughs. “Okay, maybe not your entire relationship was pent-up sexual tension. Maybe just now and parts of high school? You have to admit, Jamie is quite hot, now, right? Maybe the past few years of hate has led to the dire need to just sleep with each other.”

“Thank you for your take, but these past few days is the first time I’ve spoken to Jamie in almost five years. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just talk to him. Maybe tell him that you want this to be as professional as possible and try to move past the hate. Yn, before you argue, just think of what working for the Dallas Stars could do to your career. That’s a high-profile job. Maybe if you try to be professional and polite, then maybe he will too?”

You wanted to contradict everything Lisa said, but you knew she was right. For your job to go smoothly, it was important for you to keep a professional attitude and any hate you have for Jamie on the backburner. “You’re right; however, I’m not promising that it’s going to work. I’ll try my best to be professional, but if he starts to aggravate me, I’m not sure if I can keep up that facade.”

“That’s why you talk to him. Maybe set up a time to meet up or something and just discuss what you have to say.”

“That would require me to unblock him on literally everything, even Facebook.”

“Does he still even have that?”

“He does; it’s not even his real name. It’s an alias. He only made it to try to talk to me and bother me. I doubt he uses it and it may be deactivated now.”

“This is besides the point. Yn, Jamie is obviously not going to try to be professional with you, so it’s up to you to make that clear.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The only lingering thought you had was whether or not this would work. Surely, Jamie could be a decent human being to you, right?

. . .

The next day, you went and sat in the practice arena ready to take the photos that your job required you to take. Today, you decided was going to be the day that you had that all too important conversation with Jamie. You really didn’t want to have that conversation, but you knew that it was important in having a not chaotic working environment for everyone, not just you and Jamie.

When practice was over, you waited outside the locker room for Jamie. He walked out on his own and smirked when he saw you waiting. He didn’t know for sure you were waiting for him; however, when he saw that your phone was off, he assumed you weren’t there for work.

“Hey, ynn,” Jamie says to you and your blood instantly begins to boil. Jamie knew that you never gave him the jurisdiction to call you that, yet he still used it. You wanted to call him out on it but thought better of it. You were here to try to be professional and rehashing this would contradict your objective.

“Hey, Jamie, can we talk? It’s about something important.”

Jamie’s smirk instantly left his face and worry washed over his face. You didn’t know that Jamie could be sympathetic towards anything you said. “Yeah, is everything okay?”

His response shocked you and it took you a moment to regroup. “Oh, yeah. I just want to talk about our relationship, well, lack thereof of one. I think that when we’re here at work, we should be professional. We should put any hate that we have for each other on the side while here so that we can have a better working environment.”

Jamie laughs. “This is what you wanted to talk about? This couldn’t have been a text? You had me so worried, yn.”

“It’s important to me, Jamie,” you protest. You didn’t want to get angry at him, so you calmed yourself down. “I think it’s better for both of us if we can just keep our history and past behind us while we are doing anything to do with the Dallas Stars.”

“If I were to take you out on a date, then we could hate each other as normal?”

“What?” you falter.

“You heard me, yn. You never had a hard time hearing what I had to say.”

“No, absolutely not. You will not be taking me out on a date, ever.”

“Come on, really?”

“Jamie, this is beside the point. I’m trying to move on from our pasts and you aren’t really making this any easier. Isn’t this what you said the other day? You were hoping for a rekindling? Well, this is the first part. Trying to put behind us any hate.” You were raising your voice now. “I’m trying to make my job easier, but you’re making it incredibly difficult. Jamie, all I want is to come to work and not have to worry about whether or not an outburst I make at you will cost me my job.”

Jamie doesn’t have anything to say. “Yn.”

“No, don’t do that. You know, the reason we hate each other is your fault, so you should be the one fixing things, not me.”

“What?”

“You tripped me purposefully when we were three and laughed at me.”

“Wait, this is what this is about?”

“No, that’s the first time you treated me terribly. It was the start of you belittling me and making me feel terrible. I hated going to school because I was always worried about you and your stupid antics.” Tears are forming at the corners of your eyes, and you try to will them away.

Jamie feels terrible now. “I’m sorry, ynn. I didn’t know.”

“Firstly, don’t call me ynn; you don’t get to do that. Secondly, seriously? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were being a total ass to me? No, I don’t believe that because I know for a fact that your mother talked to you. Do you want to know how I know that? Because she apologized to me time and time again for what you did to me. Don’t you dare say that you had no idea.”

Jamie looks down at you and extends his left leg so it’s jutting out. “You’re right. I was a total ass.”

“Only took you twenty-plus years to finally admit that.”

“Come on, ynn,” Jamie says and you glare at him. “Yn, I’m trying here, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Oh my goodness, Jamie. Literally, that’s what I’ve been trying to do! You not willing to accept my proposition is the whole reason we’re rehashing this stuff.”

“Yn, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You look at him and are shocked to see that he has remorse in his eyes. “Nothing, just let me be.” You take a step to the right and begin to walk away. Unfortunately, because Jamie extended his leg, you tripped over it and went crashing to the floor hurting your ankle in the process. You screamed out in pain; you always had weak ankles after breaking them in elementary school. Your cry out in pain brought some people out of the locker room.

Jamie’s eyes go wide in fear. “Yn! Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay? Jamie, did you really have to trip me?”

“Really? I didn’t mean to! My leg was just there, and you tripped.”

“It doesn’t matter; let me just get up.” You put your hands flat on the ground to help yourself up. The minute your leg is stable enough to be stood up on, you get up but fall immediately. You cry out in pain again.

“You might have sprained your ankle,” Roope says. He was one of the people who rushed out of the locker room when you first fell.

“No, I don’t think so. I just have very weak ankles after Jamie broke, I mean, I broke my ankles in elementary school.” Your correction of Jamie breaking your ankles does not go unnoticed by him. He wants to ask why but feels it’s not the right moment.

“Here, let me help you,” Jamie reaches for your arms and you move them away. “Really, yn? Just let me help you.”

Jamie and Roope help you up and put you on the bench in the locker room, and Roope goes to find a trainer to check on your ankle.

“I’m sorry, yn, really,” Jamie says with a soft voice. You begin to put your foot on the ground but Jamie stops you gently. “Put it on the bench. It’s important to keep it elevated.”

“It’s cold, though,” you pout.

Jamie laughs. “Here, put it on my lap then, okay?”

You look at Jamie hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trick, yn. I think I’ve hurt you enough over the years. Just put your leg on my lap.”

You do as he says and Jamie rests his hands on top of your ankle. Your face grows warm at the touch and you suddenly don’t hate Jamie. “So, you’re finally admitting that you made me miserable?”

“I don’t think I made you miserable,” Jamie says and you scoff. “Wait, let me finish. I think I didn’t make your life any easier. I’m not relenting any more than that, babe.”

You flinch at the pet name, but your face grows warm. Do you address it?

Jamie makes the decision for you. “Yn, I have a question for you.”

You nod, signaling him to continue.

“You were saying something about how you have weak ankles and then said something about me. This isn’t me trying to be self-centered or whatever. I just genuinely want to know. I don’t remember what happened.”

“Well, we were in elementary school and you once, I’m pretty sure it was accidental, put your hand out and it hit me while I was walking down the stairs and I fell. I landed weirdly on my ankle and broke it.”

“So you blame me?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you blame me? You had a way of hurting me and making it seem like an accident.”

Jamie laughs and you giggle along; he’s about to comment when a trainer walks in.

“Let’s see what’s the matter here,” he says. You are suddenly extremely aware that your leg is sitting on Jamie’s lap and his hands are on your lap. The trainer examines your ankle. “It’s nothing too terrible; just a small sprain. I think if you keep it elevated as much as possible then it should be healed in a few days. Can you try walking on it?”

You nod and put your foot on the ground gently. Jamie puts his hands on your waist as you try to stand, and your skin is burning beneath his touch. “I think I’m good to get back to work.”

“You sure?” Jamie asks, concerned.

You nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you walk away from Jamie’s embrace. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Just ice it and keep it elevated once you get home tonight,” the trainer tells you. You nod and walk out of the locker room.

“What did you do to her?” Roope asks Jamie.

“Too much damage to ever fix,” Jamie says with a sigh. There was no way that your relationship with Jamie would ever go past professional acquaintances after what you revealed to him today. If Jamie knew one thing about you it was that you were strong and steadfast with your opinions and rarely changed them, especially when it came to people. Jamie doubted that he’d be an exception considering all of the past history there.

. . .

The days that followed your fall, you avoided Jamie as much as possible. You could proudly say that you didn’t hate him anymore. That’s not true. You still hated Jamie; however, when you heard his name, you didn’t immediately roll your eyes and get angry. Sometimes, you’d smile and other times you’d have no reaction. This shocked everyone because they all knew about the hatred you had for the Dallas Stars hockey player.

Shortly after, you were taken off of the media job and went back to your marketing job. The night of the home opener, however, Carrie comes up to your office with a request. “Tristain can be back at work but not for games at the moment. Do you think that you could fill in tonight? We had her on the schedule and no one else can be there.”

You hesitate; the only thing holding you back was the fact that you’d be seeing Jamie again.

“Sure, of course!”

You sort out the details with Carrie and are set to be available as part of the media team tonight for the home opener.

Later that day, you’re standing outside of the locker room filming the boys get ready for warmups. Once the video was taken and posted, you put the phone in your pocket and begin to head to the place you were supposed to be. However, someone grabs onto your arm gently and stops you.

“How’s your ankle?” Jamie asks softly.

This should infuriate you; however, his concern has you touched. You don’t show it though. “Better. I think I’d be better, though, if I didn’t have to worry about my ankles but oh well.”

Jamie shakes his head; he wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything else from you.

“I have to go, good luck tonight, Jamie,” you tell him and walk away. You’ll admit, your comment was quite snarky and unneeded. You feel bad for what you said, and Jamie was only trying to be nice. You had to keep up familiarities, right? You hated Jamie Oleksiak for the majority of your life, so why did you suddenly feel bad for what you said to him?

. . .

“Are you coming out with us tonight, Yn?” Denis asks. The team won and wanted to go out and celebrate.

You shake your head. “No, thanks for the invite though.”

“Oh, come on, why not, Ynn?” Jamie asks. Why was he asking you that? Did he not remember that the two of you have hated each other since birth? “Don’t not go because of me.”

“Funny. You think that I care about what you do or think. I just have a few things I have to do.” you lied; you weren’t going to admit that Jamie was the reason you weren’t going out.

Jamie smirks. “Fine, if you say so, but I will continue to think in my head that the reason you’re not coming out with us is because of me and the animosity we have for each other.”

“Well, look at you. Did you finally begin to remember the vocabulary we learned in high school?”

Jamie’s face turns red. Yes, he asked his sister to send photos of his old stuff from high school to try to impress you. He wasn’t going to admit it, however. Ever since that heart to heart in the locker room, Jamie wanted nothing more than to impress you. You went back to bantering and driving each other crazy; however, this was a lighter teasing and driving each other crazy. Some would even call it flirting. Would Jamie say he was flirting with you? Yes, absolutely. Would Jamie say you were flirting back with him? No, absolutely not. You hated him, so Jamie knew that whatever he thought you felt was obviously in his head.

“No,” he grumbles and some of his teammates laugh at him. The one thing that was sticking out to Jamie was that you didn’t correct him when he called you by your nickname. You went along with it. Was there some progress being made? “Enjoy whatever you have to do tonight, yn.”

You smile at him softly that has Jamie’s heart beating fast and walk away.

“Dude, you’re in deep with her,” someone says as they clap Jamie on the back. He didn’t have the energy to determine who was talking to him or contradict what they were saying. They were right; Jamie was in deep and he had no idea what to do about it.

After taking the video you needed for the Stars Instagram of the boys playing soccer at the next home game, you wave goodbye and head to the media offices; you once again had to fill in for the media team. You take five steps and hear a loud “ow!” from the one voice you despised. You turn around to see Jamie rubbing his head and staring down at his teammates. You can’t help but smile.

“Stop staring at her, you idiot,” Roope calls out and this gets a laugh out of all the boys. “Just ask her out instead of staring,” someone else yells. A deep red blush overtakes Jamie’s face and you can’t help but smile. You walk away with a giant smile on your face. You immediately shake it off. Why was Jamie getting flustered making you smile? You hated Oleksiak, right?

. . .

When you got home from work after a long day, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. You had a minor sinus infection and the day was exhausting. You had a massive headache and felt nauseous all day. There was nothing more you wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up in warm clothing, and call it a night. You weren’t expecting to come home and see a DoorDash bag sitting outside your door. You knew for a fact that you didn’t order anything. You picked up the bag and noticed there was a note attached.

Yn,

I heard that you were feeling sick, so I bought you some soup.

Enjoy,

Jamie

Jamie bought you soup? Jamie was asking about you? Where did this come from? Why would Jamie extend any kindness towards you? Isn’t he supposed to hate you? Isn’t Jamie supposed to be making your life miserable? You’ll admit, after the incident where you sprained your ankle slightly, you and Jamie have been cordial. Whenever you both talked to each other, mean words were being passed around. However, it was more of a teasing and flirting meanness. Does this mean that you and Jamie were friends now? No, right?

You walk into your apartment and open the bag - it was Italian Wedding Soup, your favorite. Your heart warmed at the fact that Jamie remembered your favorite soup. Growing up, your grandmother always made this for you when you were sick. Sometimes, she’d bring some over to the Oleksiak house if anyone was sick there, too. You grabbed a bowl and ladle and put some soup in a bowl. The minute you took the first bite, you sighed in content. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close. You started to immediately feel better. How did Jamie know this was exactly what you needed? You wanted to text him to thank him; however, you didn’t have his phone number and didn’t feel comfortable sending him a text through Instagram quite yet. You opted to write him and note and were going to leave it in his stall the next morning.

You finished the soup and began to feel better. You were happy and thankful for the soup, but you had one lingering thought. Why would Jamie do something like this for you?

The next morning, when Jamie got to his stall, he noticed that there was a gift bag sitting on the bench. He looked around to see if maybe one of his teammates left it there. It wasn't his birthday and there was no big milestone coming up. What was the message behind it, then?

“It was here when I got here,” John tells Jamie.

“He wanted to open it, but we told him that it wouldn’t be nice,” Roope says.

“I didn’t want to open it; I wanted to see who it was from. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever, Jamie, just open it.”

Jamie grabs the bag and looks for a card or maybe a note. He removes a piece of tissue paper and sees a note. He smiles as he sees your familiar handwriting that always got Jamie’s heart racing back in high school.

Jamie,

Thank you so much for the soup last night. How did you know it was my favorite? I didn’t have your phone number, so I am leaving this for you. Enjoy a small treat from home! Again, thank you.

Yn

Jamie smiles and peers into the bag. Inside, Jamie finds a bag of snacks that are endemic to the Toronto area. Only, you would know what his favorites were. “It’s from Yn,” Jamie tells his curious teammates.

This gets a few raised eyebrows and snickers from the people that were currently in the locker room.

“Why did she leave you a gift?” Roope asks.

“I bought her some soup and had it delivered to her house yesterday because I heard she was sick. This is her thank you.” Jamie blushes with these words and can’t meet anyone’s eye.

“You got her soup?” John asks curiously. What did this mean? “Are you trying to date her?”

Jamie pales. “What? No. She just wasn’t feeling well, so I tried to make her feel better.”

John smirks. “How did you know exactly what she would want?”

Jamie, not realizing that his teammates were setting him up, answered obliviously. “It was always her favorite growing up.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I loved her, still do.”

This was not the answer that everyone was expecting. “What?” someone asks.

“What?” Jamie looks up from the note to see everyone staring at him.

“You love Yn? The girl who hates you? The girl who you treated like absolute shit your entire life?” Roope confirms.

“I, yeah, I loved her. In middle school and elementary school, I just messed with her because she was a girl and, you know when you have a crush on a girl that young, you tease her.”

“No, you don’t,” Miro says.

Jamie glares at his teammate. “Whatever, not the point. I thought I was being obvious, and then in high school, I realized I was in love with her.”

“You wanted to treat her right, but you knew she’d find it suspicious.”

“I forgot about my feelings when she went to college and my career picked up, but when I saw her that first time I, just,” Jamie stops talking because he isn’t sure how to continue.

“Realized your feelings.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?” John suggests.

“That probably won’t work. How do I tell her that I’ve been in love with her since we were three and I treated her terribly because I was scared of my feelings? Oh, and I ruined any possibility of her dating anyone in high school because I was a jealous idiot who couldn’t figure anything out.”

Jamie’s words get a few pitiful glances, “that sucks”, and pats on the shoulder. No one knows what to say or do. Jamie was in love with the one person who might never love him back.

. . .

Walking into the ballroom, you were trying to find your boss so that you could tell her that you were here. Tonight was the annual Casino Night and you were working behind the scenes to make sure the night went smoothly. This was the first time you were attending because last year, the marketing team didn’t need you to work it, and you also caught a cold right before.

“Oh, hey, yn’s here,” Carrie calls out and crosses your name off the list. “Perfect, you’re going to be sitting at the table in the front welcoming guests and stuff. You are going to ask for their name, ID, and ticket. Once you do that, you’ll tell them their table number and give them a gift bag. A few of the players will be serving as ushers tonight, so they’ll bring the guests to their tables.”

You nod. You want to ask who the players are, but you don’t want to sound eager.

“The organization assigned Roope Hintz, Denis Gurianov, and Jason Dickinson as ushers. They also put Jamie Oleksiak. I know the two of you have some hardcore animosity between you two, so if you don’t want him there, then we can get someone else.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” you tell Carrie. For the first time in your life, you were serious. Things between you and Jamie were cordial and professional. You still hated him like crazy but significantly less than when you were growing up. You weren’t even sure that you and Jamie would be at this point, but here you two both were.”

“Okay, great, why don’t I bring you to your station and show you how the software works,” Carrie says and leads you to the entrance of the ballroom. The next ten minutes pass, and you think you’ve got the software and system figured out pretty well that you should be okay. Carrie told you to organize the table in any way that’s fitting to your needs, so you begin to reorganize based on how you think you’ll be able to work more efficiently.

Walking to the front entrance from the back entrance are the ushers. Leading the pack is Jamie and Roope. They were walking and talking casually when Jamie suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Keep walking,” Jason says and smacks Jamie over the head.

“What are you staring at - oh,” Roope follows Jamie’s eye line and spots you organizing the table.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jamie says with heart eyes. You were wearing a dark green dress that fell just above your knees and matching green stilettos. Your hair was done in the way that you knew looked best. Jamie recognized it as the same way you did your hair for Senior Prom and graduation.

“You know, maybe tonight you should tell her?” Denis suggests.

“I don’t think so,” Jamie says with reluctance. “I know she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then try not to stare or gape too much, then.”

Jamie nods. “We should head to where we need to be, right?”

The four boys continue walking to where you were. “Hey, yn,” Roope greets you.

You look up and smile. “Hi, well, you guys clean up nicely.”

“As do you,” Jamie tells you, and the heat rushes to your face. So, Jamie was complimenting you now.

“Um, so, I’ll be greeting guests and taking their ticket information,” you explain. “Your job, which you've probably been briefed on, is to escort them to their table numbers.”

“‘Briefed on’?” Jason begins. “Are we in some kind of spy or FBI movie?”

“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “Not the point, but that’s it basically. I think Ryan from marketing will be here to help me with the tickets. Carrie told me that two of you will be on my side of the table and two on Ryan’s side.”

Ryan suddenly appears and greets you with a hug. “You look nice, yn.”

“Thanks, Ryan, you clean up well, too,” you say back to him. You don’t catch the glare that Jamie was giving to Ryan. “I was just explaining what we’re going to be doing tonight to the boys. Two will be working with you and two with me.”

“Perfect, thanks for briefing them; you four can talk amongst yourselves as to who you’re going to be working with. I don’t care either way.”

“See?” you look pointedly at Jason. “Ryan used ‘brief’, too. Oh, I also don’t care. Actually, I’m going to head to the washroom quickly before people start to arrive.”

You get up and walk away, but you don’t notice Jamie watching you leave. He was incredibly captivated with you and wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you. He wants to profess his love to you and love you forever. Sadly, you would never feel the same way as a result of how he treated you growing up. Jamie is drawn out of his thoughts by Jason smacking his arm.

“Dude, you have to stop staring,” Jason says.

“Oh, you like her?” Ryan asks. “She’s quite a catch.”

“Oh, no, I don’t,” Jamie denies. He gets stares from his teammates. Jamie isn’t sure why he denied having feelings for you. You weren’t even here to hear them anyways.

“Good, I like her, and I think I’m going to ask her out. I wasn’t going to say anything if you liked her, but since you don’t, I should be okay to do so.”

Jamie nods but locks his jaw. “Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom, too.” Jamie walks to the bathroom angrily. Of course, Ryan likes you, who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t Jamie just tell Ryan he likes you? That way, Ryan won’t be asking you out. Too entranced in his thoughts, he runs right into you, again.

“Oof, wow, hi Jamie,” you say to him giggly after regaining your composure. “I should stop doing this, you know, running into you. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“You look really angry and pissed off.”

“Oh, well, I’m not, so, don’t worry,” Jamie says in a voice that doesn’t express what he just said.

You laugh softly.

“What?” Jamie asks.

“You say you’re not angry, but your tone says anything but,” you explain with an amused smile. You look up to meet Jamie’s eyes, and you see the fury going on in his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Jamie brushes you off and walks away toward the washroom.

You want to yell after him, but you don’t feel it’s your place to do so.

“Oh good, you’re back,” Ryan says to you. “Jamie and Jason are going to be your ushers and Roope and Denis will be mine.”

You nod and sit down. So, Jamie was going to be closer to you than you thought. “Perfect.”

When Jamie gets back from the washroom and sees you talking to Ryan in a much too friendly manner for his liking, Jamie sulks again. This was going to be a long night.

Somehow, despite his anger and frustration, Jamie was able to put that all aside as he was working as an usher for the Casino Night. Just being near you and around you was enough to calm him down. Watching you interact with the guests made Jamie’s heart warm. He always knew that you were incredibly caring to everyone you met; he just didn’t know that your actions would make him melt and fall more in love with you. After about an hour and a half of welcoming guests, Carrie walks over and says that one group can go and get something to eat. She walks away and the six of you talk amongst yourselves as to who should go. The decision is made for you when two guests walk up to you and begin pulling out their IDs. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Ryan, Roope, and Denis head into the ballroom to have dinner. After welcoming them in, Denis ushers the guests to their table. You take a breath of releasing exhaustion and Jamie smiles at you.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of people to talk to; when I took this job, I thought it would just be marketing, not the rest of this, too,” you tell him. “It’s a very versatile job.”

“Well, if it weren’t versatile, then we wouldn’t have ever come into contact with each other, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.”

Jamie looks you in the eye. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?” you say to Jamie, and he nods. “I’ll take that into consideration as I make my decision.”

Jamie chuckles deeply, and you feel the shivers go up your spine.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you ask Jamie.

“Sure,” he tells you.

“Why were you, actually never mind,” you stop asking, seeing Denis walking back to the table.

Jamie was about to question why, but he sees Denis and another guest approaching. He takes this as the reason that you stopped talking. You put on a bright smile and begin talking to the guests and welcoming them. Jamie ushers them into the ballroom after you talk and gives you a wink. You feel the warmth reach your face; you see Denis shaking his head and you question him.

“Just give him a chance,” he replies to you.

“What?” you ask confused.

“I’m serious, just give him a chance.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You will, just give him a chance when you realize you know what I’m talking about.”

You nod. What in the world could he be talking about?

Three hours after the event starts, Carrie comes over to the six of you and tells her that you were all relieved of your duties and were free to enjoy the event. You weren’t sure what to do now.

“Where are you headed?” Jamie asks.

“I’m not sure, you?”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been to one of these before, and most of my friends are working or have their own dates. I don’t have a table to sit at and don’t want to intrude.”

Jamie nods. He extends his arm for you, and you look at him skeptically.

“What?” you ask.

“Dance with me,” he tells you.

You want to tell him he’s crazy and that there was no way in hell that you were going to dance with him. However, you wanted to. You wanted to dance with Jamie, so you loop your arm through his and he leads you into the ballroom. The two of you find a spot on the dance floor and maneuver yourselves into a dancing position. Jamie rests his two hands on your waist and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle softly; your hands don’t reach because Jamie is too tall.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re too tall; I can’t get my arms to go around your neck,” you tell him.

“Oh,” Jamie says. His eyes suddenly light up. He removes one of his hands from your waist and takes your hand. “Now, you put one of your hands on my back. This work?”

You do as he says and nods. “Yeah, and now we dance!”

“That we do.”

You and Jamie begin swaying with the music. You remember that you had a question you wanted to ask Jamie, so you decide to prompt him with it now. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, ynn?”

“Why were you so upset earlier?” you ask.

Jamie suddenly stiffens, and you begin tracing patterns on his back with your hand to try to calm him down. “No reason.”

“So, you mean to tell me that you just get angry for no apparent reason?”

“No, I did get angry for a certain reason.”

“Care to share? A penny for your thoughts?”

What about a kiss for my thoughts. “It’s stupid. Ryan just said something I didn’t like, so I got angry.”

“Oh, okay.”

Jamie smiles at you, and you both continue to dance to the song. When the song ends, you begin to release your grasp of Jamie, but he doesn’t do the same.

“Jamie, the song's over.”

“I know, one more?” he asks. You want to say yes, but you aren’t sure why you don’t want to. You aren’t sure what this shift in your relationship is, but you need some time to figure it out on your own.

“I’m sorry, my feet hurt, I think I’m going to head to the back with staff and just rest, okay?” you pivot.

Jamie nods and releases his hold on you. “I probably have to do some sucking up to the donors and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, probably,” you tease. “See you later?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Jamie says to you, and the two of you go your separate ways. You head to the back to find Carrie, and Jamie heads to his teammates.

“So, did you finally tell her?” Denis asks excitedly.

“No,” Jamie says glumly.

The team gathered at this certain location all shook their heads in annoyance. When will the two of you finally realize these things?

You’re sitting in the back kitchen with a piece of chocolate cake as the event wraps up. Carrie told you that you could just sit in the back if you didn’t want to go out. Yeah, that’s what you did. You didn’t want to see Jamie again because you didn’t know what the shift in your guys’ relationship was. You needed to talk to Lisa as soon as you could before you saw Jamie again. Sadly, the universe didn’t care that much about what you felt.

“Is this the pity party?” Jamie asks as he sits across from you. He grabs the fork in your hand and takes a bite out of your cake.

“Hey!” you jokingly scold. “And no, this isn’t a pity party. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You could have come and found me, you know.”

You open your mouth to say something but close it right away.

“What?” Jamie asks with his mouth full of cake.

“Stop eating my cake,” you tell him and take your fork out of his hand. “Should you really be eating this anyway?”

“It’s cake.”

“Yeah, and you’re a professional athlete.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating only healthy things?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“But you’re eating cake.”

“Oh, now I get what you're saying,” Jamie says to you. “Just don’t tell the nutrition staff.”

“Then maybe you should wipe that chocolate icing off your face,” you joke.

“Oops, my bad,” Jamie begins wiping the icing off his face but misses.

“Here, let me,” you say and scoot your chair closer to him. You use your thumb and wipe the icing off your face. “Better.”

“Thank you,” Jamie says to you, and his face gets closer to yours so close that your foreheads are touching. “Yn, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you say to him, realizing how close your face is to his.

“You know how you asked me earlier today about why I was mad?” Jamie asks, and you nod. “Well, I wasn’t entirely telling you the truth. Yes, Ryan said something I didn’t like. When you walked to the washroom, I was staring at you because you were so beautiful. One of the guys told me to stop staring at you, and Ryan asked if I liked you. I don’t know why, but I told him no even though I’m so in love with you. Ryan then said that he was going to ask you out, and I got mad. I got mad because I want to be the one to love you, and I think Ryan might be the one to get that first.”

You pull back slightly, shocked. “What?”

“I’m in love with you; I always was.”

There’s no way you feel the same way. Where did that come from? “What? No, Jamie. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve treated me like shit our entire life. There is no way you’re in love with me. No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You get up abruptly and walk out of the kitchen.

You walk to go find Carrie, so you could tell her you were going to head home. You were going to tell her you feel sick, which you do. You find Carrie and tell her you’re going to head home. She says it’s fine, and you head to the exit.

“Yn, wait, don’t leave because of me,” Jamie says to you as you’re about to leave. Somehow, he found you and was following you.

“No, Jamie, if you didn’t want me to leave, you shouldn’t have said those things to me. Why? Do you hate me that much that you want to mess with me so badly?”

“What? No, of course not. I don’t hate you, yn!”

“That’s rich; I’m leaving. Goodnight, Jamie.”

You don’t see the fallen look on Jamie’s face as you walk away, but his teammates do. Jamie goes back to his table but doesn’t say anything. Why did he think you’d ever feel the same way? Because he was nice for a few months? No, he should have known better. This was his fault, and he had to live what he did.

You held in your tears until you got to your car. The minute your door closed, you broke down. How dare he do this to you? How dare Jamie say something like that to mess with you? What was his problem? Why would he do that?

You and Jamie both went home miserable that night. Jamie went home heartbroken, and you went home angry and annoyed. What happens next?

. . .

You called in sick the Monday after Casino Night. You weren’t ready to face Jamie even though you knew that you’d probably not see him. You weren’t sure what to think. Jamie was always someone that you knew would be in your life. However, you always thought he’d be there as your lifelong enemy who you happened to still be in semi-contact with because your parents were friends. As of late, though, you’ve been seeing Jamie as a friend. You weren’t going to lie, you found Jamie ridiculously attractive, and ever since the accident you had where you and Jamie finally talked, you began to see him in a different light. Instead of your first thought being how much you hated him, you thought about the good things he had to himself. You saw how friendly he was to everyone, and he always asked how you were. He had a selflessness to himself that you were starting to love about him.

“Why are you telling me all this, yn?” Lisa asks you exasperated. “I always thought that the two of you were perfect for each other, even in high school. Don’t lie, you thought about it, too.”

You pause for a moment carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “I guess you’re right. I did have a small crush on him in high school because, for almost six months, he was mostly nice to me.”

“And what about now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes, please, Lisa.”

“I think you’re in love with him, too. I think you always have been; I think he’s one of those people that is always going to be in your life whether or not you like it. At first, everyone thought you two were going to be the best of friends and take over the world. That all changed when he tripped you and the rest is history, but I think it’s different now. This time around, you both are mature adults who, I think, subconsciously realized that the way they dealt with the crushes they had on each other was by absolutely hating each other. You both didn’t know what to do, so you’re coping mechanism? Hate each other senselessly because you didn’t know what else. Now, Jamie realized how he feels and wants that with you. He said it first, right? Maybe he wants to show you he’s changed and truly loves you now.”

“I guess you’re kind of right,” you tell Lisa. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”

“Do you find him attractive?”

“Yes, of course, he’s gorgeous.”

“Did you always think that?”

“Yes, because he’s always been gorgeous.”

“Was one of the reasons you hated him because he was so gorgeous?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Lisa,” you tell your best friend skeptically.

“My point is that if you truly hated him, you wouldn’t have called him gorgeous so quickly. I think you would have just denied finding him attractive and that’s that. Now that you know what nice and kind Jamie is like, I think you want more. You want to have more with him because you’ve seen what a great person Jamie is. Because you’ve seen the goodness, you want more and all of it. Can you say that you currently hate Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being?”

“No, I cannot say that I hate Jamie Oleksiak with my entire being.”

“Your first reaction to him telling you how he feels was not to punch him or to hurt him, was it?”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” you say calmly.

“What was it then, yn?”

“In my head, and I don’t know why I said it, but it was ‘there’s no way you feel the same way', and I was surprised those words even formed in my head.”

“Don’t you see, yn? You feel the same way! You just didn’t know it! Your head and heart have been trying to tell you how you feel by spreading warmth to your face, making you feel shy, or just wanting to be around him. Yn, you’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“Holy shit, I’m in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“You’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak, yn.”

“Oh dear goodness, what do I do now, Lisa?”

“Apologize and tell him.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I can do that, right?”

“If you want to be with him, then yeah.”

“Okay, I can do that, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? What could possibly go wrong?”

. . .

Believe it or not, a lot. The next day, you were set to go back to work, but you woke up with a massive migraine, an aching cough, and a debilitating stomach ache. You couldn’t go to work feeling like this, so you called in sick for real this time. You finally had the courage to go see a doctor, and they told you it was just a bug. They gave you some antibiotics, and you were back to work in three days.

On the Saturday after Casino Night, Carrie asked if you could fill in for the media team, and you agreed enthusiastically. Maybe you’d finally be able to see Jamie and talk to him?

Unfortunately, that was not the case. You weren’t outright trying to talk to Jamie or get his attention, but you weren’t not doing that. You tried to act normal, but Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You were able to catch him alone after the game, but when you called out to him, he didn’t respond. You went home that night crying thinking you ruined something great without knowing you had something great at the tip of your fingers.

The following Monday, you were sitting in the GM’s offices when Jamie walked in looking for one of the team managers. You were the one of two sitting in the room, and Jamie walked to the other person who was on the far side of the room to ask if the manager was there. You’ll admit, that hurt.

You saw Jamie a few days later on your way to the locker room to give some paperwork to the coaching staff. You were about to turn the corner when your foot got stuck in a loose floorboard, and you went tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” someone asks you as you try to get up.

“I mean, considering I just fell to the ground, no, but thanks for asking,” you answer and lookup. “Jamie.”

“Yn,” he replies back to you. “I’m going to go.”

“Jamie, wait, please.”

“What, yn? Are you going to reject me again because I don’t want to have that conversation with you, then.”

“When we both aren’t at work and in a public place, can we please talk?”

“Why should I agree to that, yn? Because, for your information, you’re breaking my heart. I can’t do this if you’re just going to make me feel terrible.”

You falter slightly when Jamie tells you that you’re breaking his heart. “I’m really sorry, can we just please pick a time and place to talk?”

“Sure, right here, right now.”

“Jamie, that’s not what I --”

“No, if you want to talk, then right here. I don’t want to have this conversation later if you’re going to reject me again.”

You’re getting kind of sick and tired of Jamie insisting that you’re going to reject him again because you’re not. “Jamie! I’m not going to reject you again! Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster who loves to see you suffer? Guess what, I don’t! I hate that my words made you hurt and put you in a terrible mood. I apologize for that. You know you got to speak your mind, isn’t it time for me to be able to speak mine?”

Jamie is about to say something, but you stop him.

“No, I’m not going to break your heart, I promise. Just listen, okay?”

Jamie nods and takes one step towards you.

“Casino Night? You caught me off guard. My entire life, I hated you and that was all I knew. Wake up? Hate Jamie. Go to bed? Hate Jamie. You have to admit, though, you didn’t make it hard, but that’s beside the point. When I literally ran into you all those months ago, I picked up where we left off because that was all I knew. Then, come to find out, I didn’t like that. When I tripped over your foot and we talked? That was the shift inside of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. The next few things I’m going to say I didn’t makeup on my own, Lisa helped me with it. She told me that I got to experience nice and kind Jamie, and I loved it. I did, I loved being on the receiving end of it. She was saying how I wanted more, all of the love and kindness you have to offer. She’s not wrong. I want everything you have to offer because I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“Casino Night? I didn’t know what I was feeling. If you gave me a bit more time, on my own, then I think I would have realized it soon. I’m not sure if you know this, but in sophomore year of high school, I had a crush on you because, for once, you were quite nice to me. I like nice Jamie because he makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jamie Oleksiak, I’m in love with you even though I spent almost twenty years hating you. And, that’s all I have to say, so I’m going to go now.”

You begin to turn around, but Jamie’s next words leave you stunned. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were three.”

“What?”

“When we were three years old, I realized I had a crush on you. I wouldn’t have called it a crush, but I always saw how in love my parents were and one day wanted that with you. You know how children get ‘married’? Well, I wanted to marry you. I didn’t know how to process how I felt so I treated you like shit and for that, I’m sorry. I realized I was in love with you in high school, but at that point, too much damage was created for me to go back and change things. When I saw you again a few months back, I realized that I never really got over you, and I wanted more with you.”

You take a step forward. “So.”

“So?”

“So, we’re two idiots who are in love with each other, then?”

“So we are,” Jamie says to you with a smile.

“Now what do we do?” you ask.

“Well, I’d like to take you out for dinner and maybe kiss you? Then, take you out for dinner again and call you my girlfriend. What do you think?”

“I think you should kiss me now and we can just jump to the ‘I’m your girlfriend’ part.”

“That’s a deal,” Jamie says and leans down to kiss you. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to take a breath. He leans in again, and you both deepen the kiss he places on your lips. All of five seconds pass when you hear cheering behind you. “I guess this is why you wanted to talk in private, right?”

You laugh. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should listen to me more often.”

“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, I guess I have more of a reason to.”

“And why’s that?”

“So I get to keep you and love you forever?”

You smile and say, “that I can do.” You perch upon your tippy-toes and kiss Jamie again. Who knew that two childhood enemies could one day learn to love each other?

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @beauvibaby @boqvistsbabe @rmaye @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sidscrosbyy @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs (Join my taglist here!)

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

In which Nestor needs a bandaid and we learn more about you.

Also, my apologies for any mistakes/errors. I was trying to edit this while surrounded by other people, so...

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, and injury; language; mentions of alcohol | Words: 1,600+

Taglist: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie

Part I of Los Guardianes

You had assumed, in your little flirtation with Nestor, that he was joking about coming around injured. So, when he showed up two days later, a little late for afternoon pickup, with a large piece of bloodstained gauze taped to one side of his face, you were shocked.

Your classroom was empty, and your aide had left for the day, leaving you to hang out with Crist��bal while you waited for Nestor to arrive. You were sitting at your desk with Cristóbal beside you, each of you scribbling away with crayons on coloring pages. Movement registered in the corner of your vision and you glanced up to see Nestor standing in the doorway, his face bandaged and the arm of his dress shirt covered in dried blood. His normally immaculate dress pants and shirt were covered in a layer of silt. You inhaled sharply as you rose from your seat, your feet carrying you quickly to stand in front of him. Cristóbal went to Nestor immediately, wrapping himself around Nestor’s leg in a fierce hug. Nestor sagged against the door frame with a grimace and your fingers reached for him instinctively, pausing when he met your gaze. But there was something encouraging in his glance, so you placed your cool hand softly against the feverish skin around the gauze. His eyes closed for just a moment, leaning into your touch, before you spoke.

“You know, I didn’t think you were actually going to take me up on my offer… I’m not sure I have any robot bandaids big enough for all this,” you teased quietly, tracing the bloodstained dressing. Nestor’s eyes opened and he smirked. You pulled your hand away, exceedingly aware of your rapidly increasing heart rate.

“Are you ok?”

His nod was slight, but it made you feel a little better. “I’m sorry I was late,” he mumbled, wincing as he took a breath. “I hate that you had to stay on my account.” He tapped Cristóbal and motioned for him to collect his backpack out of his cubby. Cristóbal did as he was asked, leaving you standing there alone with Nestor.

“Nestor, it’s really fine. Besides, if someone else had come to pick him up, I probably would have assumed you were dead, and that would have been worse.”

He studied you seriously for a few seconds, his expression giving nothing away. You tucked your arms behind your back nervously, rocking back onto your heels, but you managed to keep your eyes locked on his.

“Still,” he said finally. “I’d like to make it up to you. Can I take you out for a drink?” Cristóbal lumbered over, his backpack comically large on his small frame.

You smiled softly, trying not to appear as flustered as you felt on the inside. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Nestor grinned, and underneath the blood and filth, his face lit up. “I’ll text you,” he said with a quick nod, his stare raking over your body briefly before turning and ushering Cristóbal to the car.

Nestor had texted you that same evening and asked you to grab a drink with him the next day, which was how you found yourself at a low-key, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Santo Padre on a Friday night. Your inclination towards promptness meant you had arrived fifteen minutes early, so you headed inside and took a seat at the bar, ordering a gin and ginger.

You glanced around you, trying to hold back the nervousness fluttering in your belly. You fiddled with the hem of your black dress before laying it flat against your thigh. In your classroom, you rarely wore anything other than pants and leggings. Working with preschoolers meant that you were always prepared to be crouching, crawling on the ground, sitting on the floor, bending over, carrying kids on your hip, cleaning up various bodily fluids, getting things spilled on you. So, it was always a treat to get to dress up and you felt extra cute tonight.

Shortly after the bartender returned with your drink, you heard Nestor’s low, familiar voice near the shell of your ear.

“I was supposed to buy that for you,” he murmured, and you shivered just slightly at the fanning of his warm breath on your neck. His hand grazed your lower back as he passed you to take the stool next to yours.

You ducked your head to hide your grin. “You can buy the next one.”

Your smile faltered as he faced you completely and you got a clearer look at his injuries. He had forgone the gauze on his face, instead opting for a series of butterfly closures running down the jagged cut along his cheekbone. He was sporting a shiner on the eye on that side, but he seemed like he was in one piece otherwise.

“How’s the face?” you asked with a grimace.

“I’ve had worse,” he told you before ordering a beer from the bartender.

“I guess a life of crime would do that to you,” you said, and he glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow, perhaps trying to gauge how you meant it. You tossed him a wink and he smirked, shaking his head slightly.

“So,” you asked casually, “how did you end up being a security detail to the little man?”

“Big man’s mad at me.”

You laughed. “What?”

Nestor sighed, smoothing his facial hair with a hand punctuated by scabbed knuckles. “I, uh – fucked up, a while ago. Caused a lot of issues for Mikey. He put me on school duty as a punishment, I guess.” He paused, tossing back his beer. “But things are really tense right now, too, and I think it helps Mikey to have Cristóbal with someone he trusts. So, he kept me on it. And it’s fine, you know? They’re my family.”

He met your gaze meaningfully. “And it’s a nice way to start the morning,” he added.

“You’re really good with Cristóbal,” you commented warmly, heat rising on your cheeks. You hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you adored that about him.

Nestor’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ve been around his whole life. Plus, he’s a pretty great kid.”

“Can confirm.” You paused around a sip of your cocktail. “So, I would imagine that you can’t share too much, but what does being the head of security for a cartel boss entail?”

Nestor’s eyes darkened broodingly, and you wondered if you’d overstepped, although you’d tried to acknowledge that you realized there were things you weren’t allowed to know. He leaned onto the top of the bar on his elbow, studying you again. “A lot of illegal shit. A lot of violence.” He paused thoughtfully. “But it’s also just a lot of… waiting. A lot of phone calls, researching, driving, babysitting – and not just babies.”

You chuckled at his sardonic choice of words. “I don’t know how you do it,” you joked. “I’m only okay with the babysitting involved in my job because they’re actual babies.”

“What made you decide to be a preschool teacher?” he asked, his shoulders relaxing a bit. You were distracted for a moment by the way his floral dress shirt pulled taut over his biceps and you swallowed hard.

“Uh – I got my degree in elementary education, and I started out as a kindergarten teacher. I was working in LA, but I had sort of a… rough patch, and needed to start over somewhere else. When the director, Maria, opened New River, she offered me a spot so I could come down to Santo Padre and get my shit back together.” You took a long pull on your drink, trying to swallow down your nerves.

Nestor’s head was tilted to the side curiously and you waited to see if he would inquire further. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding when he stuck to easy questions.

“How long have you been in Santo Padre?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.

“About two years. You?”

“Most of my adult life. I grew up with Mikey. And then I was in the Navy, moving around a lot. When I got out, Miguel offered me the job and I’ve been here ever since.” He shrugged slightly.

You studied him thoughtfully for a moment, the question you’d been wanting to ask him since you first met him resting on the tip of your tongue. He held your gaze steadily, so you went for it.

“Is it lonely?”

In the brief silence that followed, you wondered again if you had overstepped, if maybe it was too personal of a question. But you also felt strongly that the way Nestor answered would give you some indication as to his intentions with you.

His eyes narrowed on you, his head cocked to the side. “It can be.” He shifted on his barstool, his clothed knee knocking gently against yours, the touch sending electricity directly to your heart. Before you could respond to his statement, he asked, “Are you lonely?”

You were immediately annoyed at yourself for not anticipating that he would turn the question back on you; that was followed by the rush of embarrassment at your answer. Your mind reeled. Should you be honest with him? If you told him about your past, would he feel sorry for you? If you shared how and why you ended up in Santo Padre, would he pity you? You didn’t want that.

But.

You also desperately wanted to trust him. There was something about Nestor that made you feel safe, and while you supposed that was a side effect of his job, his interest in you represented a connection you hadn’t had with another person in years. And that alone pushed you towards the truth.

Your eyes found the bar top as you answered. “Yeah. I am.” You waited nervously for the follow-up questions, but they never came.

Instead, you felt Nestor’s knee knock softly against yours again and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Maybe you don’t have to be anymore,” he offered, leaning to bump his shoulder into yours, making you smile.

Part III of Los Guardianes

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[illiterateliz]

CH_001: i need a ride

Mae got off the phone with her mom, sighing. Of course she can’t pick me up because of her new kid. What’s new?

The girl pondered about her decision. Sitting on a bench outside of the school in the cool winter breeze, Mae fiddled with her phone. Should I text Taehyun and ask if he can drive me home?

Mae unlocked her phone and went to the messages app.

Mae sat down at the curb of the dismissal area, eating her leftover lunch. After what felt like a very long time, a boy with peach-colored hair, who had probably been forgotten too (it rly sucks) joined her at the curb.

“Uh, hello?” She awkwardly greeted him. Mae inwardly facepalmed. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That came out so mean.”

“You’re fine! It’s my fault for coming over here without saying hi first.” The boy smiled and they stared at each other in an awkward silence before he finally spoke, “Oh! And my name is Sunoo.”

He put out his hand for her to shake and she did. “My name is Mae! And how’d you get forgotten?”

“I was helping my art teacher clean up her classroom and I missed my bus,” Mae smiled at his kindness. “But I’m planning to ask one of my friends to drive me home. What about you?”

“My mom doesn’t want to pick me up and my stepdad is at work. I texted my brother—well, he’s my step-brother—and asked if he could take me home but he hasn’t replied because he’s in his student council meeting.” Sunoo’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Two of my friends are in student council! Could we go up to their room and ask?” The boy offered, standing up.

He reached out his hand for her to take and she stood up. “Let’s go!” They let go of each other’s hands and started walking inside the building.

The two conversed on their way to the classroom and found out a lot about each other. They started following each other on twitter, too. “And we’re here.” Mae went to turn the door knob, but Sunoo stopped her. “You can’t just open the door when they’re meeting! My friends said that what they talk about is confidential to only teachers and student council.”

Mae took a peek through the little window in the door and scoffed. “They’re having a party. I think they’ll survive if I walk in there and ask a question.”

And so she did, and immediately regretted. Everybody’s eyes were on her, including her brother’s. “Hey, you can’t be in here!” Announced Soeun, the secretary.

“Why? You guys are only eating pizza and drinking soda. I don’t see a reason as to why I can’t come in here.” She turned to her brother and gestured for him to check his phone. He walked over to his backpack and reached in for his phone.

“This meeting ends in about 10 minutes. Can you not wait?” Mae rolled her eyes and walked out.

She opened the door again and said, “This is why no one likes student council.” Sunoo laughed as she dragged him to the nearest vending machine. She punched in the numbers to get a bag of veggie straws.

“Can you get me some too?” He pulled out his little coin bag as Mae handed him the bag. “Wait, but I was going to pay.” Sunoo pouted.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re my new friend so I’m buying you food. It’s what I do!”

He rolled his eyes. “Fineeee. But I’m paying next time.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Mae grinned and walked off. Sunoo pulled out his phone and opened Twitter.

And back in the student council room, the president was still smiling because of the girl.

prev | masterlist | next

SYNOPSIS: when mae, taehyun’s step sister, barges into the student council office to ask her brother a question, the president can’t help but take a liking to her.

GENRE: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au, non-idol!au, fluff, romcom

WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcoholism & drug use, inappropriate jokes, stalking but in a joking manner, mommy issues 😍, school, mae gets hit by a car 🚶‍♀️💥🚗

TAGLIST: @jungwoniics @im-on-a-hellavator @i-gf @acciomylove @ja4hyvn @yjwfav

© illiterateliz, 2022

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: “for how long? for how long were you bottling this up?”

♡ pairing: kirby dach (chicago blackhawks) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I used to hear a simple song. that was until you came along. now in its place I hear something new. I hear it when I look at you.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

you sat at your computer, typing away at work you had to get done for an internship. it was work you were putting off for a while now and you had to finally bite down and get it done. 

“hey, what are you doing right now?” your friend Aniya asked as you picked up the third frantic phone call from her, “work I need to get done for school. what do you need from me that you’re calling me for the third time?” you asked a bit annoyed. 

she rolled her eyes from the other side of the phone, “listen, I know you’ve been having issues with him so I want you to come out with us tonight,” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if you’re overwhelmed with work or not. you need to get over this slump and realize there’s more to you than Kirby fuckin’ Dach right now.” 

you slid down your chair, growling in response, “I don’t wanna and if I don’t want too, you can’t make me,” you tried to fight back which only earned a laugh in return, “yeah right! see you tonight at nine! we’re going to be at Falco’s so see you there!” she blurted out before hanging up the phone. 

you looked down at the clock, seeing that it read five in the afternoon. you had been in the coffee shop for a little over three hours and while the first hour and a half was spent with you just procrastinating, the remaining time was you actually working and getting most of it done.

however! 

looking at the time, you realized you might as well get up and leave before it got any later. you knew you had time to go out with your friends but you recent fall out with Kirby made it almost nearly impossible to do as such.  

the fallout was one you saw coming for a while now. 

between your schooling and interning and Kirby’s career, the time you had with each other was rare. you tried to make time for him, you really did, but Kirby ultimately put down the times you asked to hang out with him. he usually said it was because he was hanging with a few teammates and while that was true, you had also saw a few of his girl friends with him. 

you weren’t a jealous girl, not by a long shot but it was hard to see your boyfriend with a bunch of girls hanging out and not inviting you. you tried to remain calm about the situation but eventually, it got too into your head and you confronted him about it. 

+

“you know what Kirby?” you whispered to him, not looking at him anymore, “I’m tired. I don’t know you anymore and you could care less about me. how about I do us both a favor and just end this now?” 

Kirby’s eyes widened at what he was hearing. 

“I never said I cared less about you!” 

“it feels like it, Dach! all I ask for you is hang out with me when you have the time and be around when you can but the last three times I asked to hang out and get dinner, you’ve denied me saying you were going to be with ‘the boys’ and then what do I see? you with Boqvist and a bunch of other girls! hanging out and having a good time. do you know how much that hurts? seeing your boyfriend surrounded by a bunch of girls and not even giving you the time of day anymore?

Kirby looked at the ground, knowing what you were saying was true, “how long? how long were you bottling this up?” he finally asked. 

“too long, I guess but like I said before, let me do us a favor and break it off here. I love you, I really do but I’m tired of not being prioritized. I’m tired of coming second, third, and fourth place in your life. I’m tired of having to beg for the attention of my damn boyfriend at this point,” you tried to contain your tears but couldn’t, “I knew our lives were very different from the very moment we meant but I never thought we’d end for a reason like this. maybe Aniyah had a point....maybe our lives are too different from each other and that this wouldn’t work out.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over you and your wallet that was on his table. you could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to say make up something to say but failing to do so. 

“so you’re ending it then?” Kirby asked from the door of his apartment. you gave him a teary eyed look, “I don’t want too but you’re making it hard to be with you so yeah, I guess I am.” 

you grabbed your CTA card from your wallet and opening the door of his apartment building to catch the nearest CTA train home. Kirby hated when you rode the train so late but you weren’t about to give him the benefit of driving you back home. 

throughout the entire train ride home, you had gotten a dozen texts from Kirby, asking you if you were safe and to at least text him when you got home but after what felt like the 100th text, you blocked his number, his Snap, and any socials he had left. 

it even got to the point where Adam had to message you to ask if you were okay. you knew that he would go back and text Kirby so you didn’t bother to reply to his text either. 

+

once you got home, you slumped your backpack onto the couch and ate leftovers you had from yesterday. you were in no mood to cook and you knew since Aniyah was expecting you to meet her at Falco’s, your time had to go to getting ready. 

the food felt bland in your mouth as you tried to hype yourself up for the outting. it would have been a lot better if Kirby was going with you but putting that thought aside, you threw the rest of the food away and went to your bathroom to start getting ready. 

you figured since Falco’s wasn’t really a hugely popular bar in Chicago, the idea that anyone cute would be there went out the window. the only ones who knew of Falco was you, Aniyah, and Kirby who you had brought with you a few times. 

the makeup you applied was very light and the outfit was on the simpler side. since you weren’t trying to get anyone’s attention, flying under the radar in terms of looks, you knew doing the bare minimum would do the trick. 

by the time you finished getting ready, it was already 8:30 and Falco’s was on the other side of town. you caught the last train to the other end of town and walked the rest of way there. when you finally arrived, you saw the place a bit more packed than usual. 

“( your name )! over here!” you heard Aniyah’s scream from a table. you gave them a wave and a small smile before sliding into the booth, “these are my friends! Michael and Trey!” she introduced you. 

you shook their hands and introduced yourself to them as all of you ordered a few round of drinks. since Kirby was only 20, whenever you invited him out to bars or the like, he tended to be the one to carry you back home when you got a bit too drunk. 

“so, where do you go to school?” Michael asked, as he took a sip of his drink, “oh, I go to a smaller school here in Chicago,” you replied. he nodded understandingly, “oh shit,” you heard Aniyah’s voice say from underneath her breath. 

you gave her a look as she pointed at who walked in. you followed her finger and were immediately taken back when you saw it was not only Kirby but Adam, Alex, Dylan, and his girlfriend as well. 

“we’ll be back in one second,” Aniyah told Michael and Trey before dragging you away to the single stall bathrooms, “girl, I had no idea they would be here. you know I would never do this to you,” she said frantically, “I swear, they just had to show up, didn’t they?”

“Aniyah, it’s okay. I just wish I would have dressed a bit better considering he’s here,” you murmured under your breath. Aniyah smirked, seeing your outfit, “well, just take off the jacket, the shirt your wearing is already doing you justice by being a crop and the shorts look amazing on you as it is,” she said snatching the jacket off of you.

the two of you spent a bit more time in the bathroom, restyling your outfit a bit more before walking out. you made a beeline to the bar, ordering all four of you shots of tequila. 

“he’s looking at you, you know?” Aniyah murmured as you shrugged, “serves him right,” you replied before giving Michael a smile and look at the three of them, “bottoms up!” you exclaimed before taking the shot and chugging it down with ease. 

all of you cheered at Michael called for another round of shots to the table but before they could get there, Dylan’s girlfriend came up to the table and gave you a hug. 

“hi, how have you been?” she asked as she let you go, “fine! just getting a few drinks with some friends! how are you?” you asked as hesitantly as possible. you knew she meant no harm but whenever the four hung out with each other, it was rare when she tagged and only did if you were coming along. 

“ah, fine. just here with Dylan and a few of the boys. I know with you and Kirby, it must be a bit awkward, huh?” she said a bit awkwardly. you gave her a small smile, “I guess but I gotta go before they start thinking I left them. I’m a few tables over so if you want to take a shot with us, come by!” you said giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. 

Aniyah gave you a look, quickly telling you to spill but you shot it down as all of your shots were brought to the table. 

throughout the night, you got progressively more drunk. the tequila shots were hitting a bit harder than you thought and before you knew it, any shy bone in your body quickly went away when the sixth shot entered your body. Aniyah knew that your drunk persona was not who you were sober. 

“does she really get this way when she’s drunk?” Michael asked, seeing you singing into the half full bottle of Smirnoff Ice. Aniyah laughed, “she does! trust me, one time she got onto a table at a friendsgiving dinner and sang every word to Girls in The Hood without messing up.” 

the three of them laughed as you grabbed another shot and chugged it down, “oh my god I love this song!” you told Aniyah as you grabbed her by the hand and shook her, “I’m gonna go see if Tayler is available!” you exclaimed as you jumped over Michael to get to where Dylan’s girlfriend was. 

Aniyah immediately got up and chased you to the table but was too late. you were already grabbing her by the hand and dragging her up, “oh my god, you’re plastered,” she giggled, seeing the drunk in your eyes, “I haven’t seen her this drunk since your birthday!” Dylan added on. 

Aniyah got to the table and grabbed you by the hand, “Michael bought everyone a shot, we should go and take it together,” Aniyah murmured in your ear. you shrugged, “tell him to wait a second, I’m talking to her!” you responded as Tayler laughed, enjoying your new found confidence. 

“god, I haven’t seen you this plastered since you know when,” Aniyah growled, giving Kirby a side eye. all he did was watch the table you were sitting at and seeing the boy named Michael giving you look of what he saw as lust, “aww, hi Dylan! hi Adam and Alex!” you said excitedly. 

they gave you waves as they tried to not look in Kirby’s direction. you hadn’t spared him a look as you saw Michael heading over your way, “hey, you guys coming? Trey wants to know if you’re heading back to his place to continue drinking.”

you had never heard silence this loud. although everyone in the bar was still talking and drinking, the air immediately turned stiff. Michael had his arm around your shoulder, “uh, yeah? one second!” Aniyah said seeing as you weren’t even in the right headspace to be going anywhere. 

“she can’t. she’s heading home,” Kirby finally spoke up. Aniyah, Michael, and everyone else looked to see Kirby’s dead serious face, “I think I might’ve missed something. who are you?” Michael asked looking to Kirby. 

Aniyah and Tayler saw the rage building up in Kirby’s eyes, “her boyfriend, can I ask who you are?” he replied, not taking his eyes off of him. Michael laughed, “her supposed date. I thought she was single,” he said with a smirk that ticked Kirby off more than it should have. 

“sorry, you aren’t. she’s too drunk to be going anywhere that isn’t her house so how about you get moving before this turns into something you don’t want coming.” 

Michael laughed, putting his hands on the table, “or you’re gonna do what?” Kirby rolled the sleeves of his button up up making Adam and Dylan start to get nervous, “playing professional hockey has its perks,” he replied. 

“no, what you’re not going to do is create a scene in this bar. Kirby, you’re a professional. if you want, you can take her home if you’d like but you’re not getting into trouble for something marginally stupid as an argument.” 

Aniyah gave Kirby a look before motioning to Trey to come and get Michael before he did anything stupid. you on the other hand were too busy sitting next to Adam and singing whatever song was playing through the speakers to realize what was going on. 

“come on, lets get you home,” Kirby murmured into your ear. you gave Kirby a confused, “no! you’re not my boyfriend anymore so I go where Aniyah goes!” you said through slurred words.

“I don’t want to seem like a dick but you got to go home and you’re going home right now. you’re too drunk to understand anything or anyone.” 

you didn’t bother to fight as you felt an overwhelming feeling of tiredness hit you. you usually got like that when you got drunk. 

after Aniyah gave Kirby your bag with your house keys, he hitched a ride from Dylan to get back to your place. they could all sense the anger in Kirby as he was still sitting on the argument. it was pretty wild to see Kirby so angry but when it came to you, they knew he would do anything for you. 

he thanked Dylan for the ride as he grabbed your arm and slung it over his should, carrying you inside. the trip to your apartment was struggle as you kept talking gibberish to yourself and making Kirby laugh. 

as soon as he got your door open, he took off your shoes and place you in bed, making sure you were at least comfortable enough to fall asleep. by the time he had placed you in bed, you were snoring your life away against the pillow. 

Kirby knew it was best to sleep on the couch to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself if you were still drunk when you got up. he grabbed the small throw pillow and a blanket you kept underneath the couch and tried to get comfortable as possible. 

-

it hit five in the morning when Kirby heard throwing up sounds from the bathroom. he slowly got up from bed and saw you hunched over the toilet bowl. 

“you okay?” he finally spoke up, making you jump in fear. you gave him an angry look, “what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, confused as to why he was here. 

“I had to take you home from Falco’s. you were extremely drunk and were about to do something you were probably going to regret the minute Aniyah left you so she gave me the keys to your house and let me watch over you until you got up.” 

you sighed, “where is Aniyah?” you asked. “home. she had to calm down the guys she brought because he was trying to cause a scene inside the bar and told me just to take you home before any news of me getting into a fight broke out into the news,” he explained. 

you leaned up against the wall, giving him a defeating look, “what do you want with me, Kirby? I appreciate you taking care of me but what do you want as a return?” you replied. 

Kirby kneeled onto one knee and looked at you, “to give me a second chance. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad but these last few weeks have been hell. I miss you calling me after every game and having dinner through a facetime call. I miss your voice first thing in the morning. I just want you to give me one more chance and if I fuck up, you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear!” he said, almost pleadingly. 

you stared at Kirby, trying to see if he was being truthful. you could tell behind the eyes of desperation, he was telling the truth. 

“one more chance and if you ruin it, we’re done.” Kirby went in to kiss you as you immediately dodged it, “first of all, I need to brush my teeth and you won’t be kissing me at least for another few days. you could suffer some more,” you joked, giving him a wink.

he growled playfully and watched as you brushed your teeth, “but you can snuggle me while I sleep off this hangover,” you said as he happily followed you back into bed. 

[tashas-life]

Summer Shenanigans

Paxton and Devi spend the summer together and have a banging playlist

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Nothing really.”

“I’m outside, let’s go to the beach.”

Devi threw her bag through the back window of Paxton’s jeep and jumped in the front seat.

“Did you bring my suit?” Devi asks as she pulled on her seatbelt. Devi’s mom would never let her wear a bikini so she had to save up her money from working at the summer camp to buy it. She usually hid it at the back of her underwear drawer but since she’d been going swimming with Paxton more days than not, she just kept it in his car.

“Yep, I threw it in the laundry.” Paxton pulled out onto the road and Devi started messing with the music.

Her and Paxton were both working at the same summer camp so they spent most days together. Paxton had spent the last two summers working at the camp and Devi wanted to make her own money so she had applied too. It was also convenient because she always had a ride to work instead of asking her mom or Kamala. Paxton had promised to teach her to drive this summer but she always chickened out whenever he offered.

Devi always insisted on picking the music when they went anywhere and Paxton didn’t mind. She settled on Ariana Grande’s album and turned up the volume as Motive filled the car. Paxton rolled down all the windows and stuck his arm out to feel the breeze. It was one of the hottest days of the summer so Paxton’s shirt was mostly open and Devi had her new sunglasses on. This was the first summer that Devi was making real money and she tended to spend most of it by the time the next pay day had rolled around.

Once they got to the beach Devi jumped in the backseat and Paxton got out to stand guard. Devi was a pro at the quick change at this point and quickly shimmied into her bikini without having to take off her dress completely.

Once Devi hopped out of the backseat, Paxton grabbed the drinks cooler and Devi grabbed their towels and a speaker. Usually the beaches were packed on hot days but Paxton had a special super power of finding an empty part of the beach to spend the day. They found a spot to settle and Devi started applying sunscreen.

“Did you hear Kenny is sick again. Mono.” Paxton said with an eye roll and Devi groaned.

“You think he’s going to be out all week again? Taylor should just fire him and hire someone else at this point.” Devi tossed Paxton the sunscreen and laid down on her towel.

“Yea right, Taylor probably gave him the mono. He’ll never fire him.” Devi laughed and closed her eyes.

“I don’t even understand how they find the time to mack. Those kids never stop.” Devi said.

“Yea well, next week they’re going to be our problem again.” Usually each camp leader had about 5-10 kids to watch but with Kenny constantly gone they always ended up with more kids.

“Honestly, fuck Kenny.” Devi grumbled and Paxton nodded. “Did you see Eleanor’s insta post? Her and Trent are like embarrassingly in love.” Devi asked as she pulled out her phone to show him a boomerang of them kissing on some hike.

“I think it’s cute.” Paxton grinned as Devi made a vomiting face. “I invited them to come today but apparently they would rather be aloneeee.”

“That’s so nasty.” Devi said and Paxton laughed.

“I’m going in, you coming?” Paxton asked but Devi shook her head.

“Nah man, I’m working on my tan.” Devi said but really she just preferred laying on the sand and watching the water than actually being in it.

“Your loss.” Paxton replied, shoving her as he got up to go swimming.

……

“Okay, the thing is that I just don’t think I’m coordinated enough for this.” Devi said as she stood on Paxton’s skateboard. She felt a little embarrassed at how wobbly she was and that she was wearing her bike helmet that she got when she was ten. Paxton had his car door open and Lizzo’s album was playing. Juice blasted into the street and Devi knew people would complain soon.

“I’m literally holding on to you. You can’t fall.” Paxton said as he led her down the road.

“I feel like I could still fall.” Devi said as she started tipping back and Paxton’s grip tightened as he pulled her forward.

“I won’t let you fall Devi. Would you just trust me for once?” He asked playfully annoyed.

“Shut up, I literally trust you all the time.”

“You shut up.” Paxton countered.

“Wow, real mature.” Devi replied sarcastically.

Devi was too busy arguing to notice them start to go faster. Of course that is until she did notice. Then she was falling again and she was falling fast. Paxton managed to grab her before she fell on her face and swung her off the skateboard. Devi held onto Paxton as the skateboard started rolling down the street without them. They looked at each other and immediately started laughing.

“I think you might be right about the coordination thing.” Paxton said and Devi shoved him away from her.

“Or maybe you’re a bad teacher.” She grinned at his shocked face as she ran to grab the skateboard.

“I’m never teaching you anything ever again” he retaliated.

“Come over here and help me loser.” Paxton crossed his arm in defiance.

“Tell me I’m a good teacher.”

“Stop being a baby.”

“Wooooow, even more insults. Bad teacher and a baby.”

“Fine, you’re a good teacher. Now let’s get on with this.” Devi said as she started to get on the skateboard again.

“Thank you.” Paxton replied satisfied. He grinned and went to help her again.

……..

Usually, they were separated during their days at camp since each group rotated through activities but on Fridays all of the kids got to go to the community pool. Those were obviously Paxton’s favourite days because he got to hang out with Devi but he also loved getting to teach some of the kids how to swim.

Usually, Paxton stayed in the shallow end with the younger kids and Devi sat at the deep end with the older kids. Vacation by Dirty Heads was playing over the pool speakers and Devi had her legs in the water as she chatted with some kids.

“Yea, high school kind of sucks. What you gotta do is find a popular kid and force them to be your friend.” Devi told some kids who were going to be freshmen in the fall.

“That’s terrible advice.” Paxton laughed as he came to stand next to her in the pool. He had switched with Kenny who was now watching the younger kids. They had given up on learning to swim and were mostly just playing and splashing water at Kenny.

“Really? You got anything better?” Devi asked crossing her arms.

“Yes. Find something that makes you excited to go to school, for me that was swimming, for D it was being my best friend. And also don’t give a shit about what other people think of you.” Paxton told the kids and Devi kicked his arm. “Oh shit, I mean just don’t care what other people think.”

“I meant the best friend thing.” Devi rolled her eyes.

“You were literally obsessed-“ before Paxton could finish Devi had jumped in and shoved Paxton’s head underwater.

Paxton managed to push Devi away from him and had his arm out separating them.

“Hey, you better stop or your top is going to fall off again.” Paxton laughed and Devi’s face started burning up. Yes, the bikini was cute but it wasn’t the most reliable bathing suit she had. Rough housing had led to a very embarrassing incident that Devi was trying to forget.

“I’m going to kill you.” Devi lunged at him and Paxton managed to grab her arms.

“Hey anger issues, chill out.” Paxton said with a grin. Devi managed to pull her arms away and splashed Paxton.

“Go do your job loser!” Devi yelled as she turned to go back to her post.

……

Devi swung the door open and was surprised to see Paxton. Usually he just texted her when he got to her house.

“Let’s go for a drive.” Paxton said as he held up his car keys.

“Okayyy.” Devi said as she grabbed her backpack from the door.

“Here ya go.” He said as he tossed the keys to her. She just about dropped them and didn’t move from her front door.

“Naaaa, I don’t think today’s the day.” Devi said nervously. She had failed her drivers test last month because she hadn’t practiced enough. It was the first time she hadn’t prepared and it was also the first time she had failed a test.

“Come on D, your test is in a few weeks and don’t you want to have your licence by the time school starts?” Paxton asked as he opened the drivers side door. He motioned for her to get in and she groaned before going to the car.

It wasn’t legal for Paxton to teach her how to drive but her only other option was her mother which hadn’t worked out. Devi was pretty sure she failed her test because driving with her mom had made her so anxious that getting behind the wheel made her want to throw up even when her mom wasn’t around. She had even done drivers ed but that apparently wasn’t enough because she still failed.

“Are you sure? What if I scratch your car or something?” Devi asked as they both got in the car.

“Then I’ll literally kill you, so don’t scratch my baby.” Paxton said as he gently caressed his dash.

“That’s not really helpful.” Devi muttered as she nervously changed the seat settings.

“We’ll go to the school parking lot. It’s just down the street and the lot will be empty.” Devi nodded as she turned the car on. She kept her foot on the brakes as she looked at Paxton desperately.

“Listen to Tai, you’re going to be A-O-K.” Paxton said as he turned up the music. “Also, don’t forget to signal, you lost so many points for that.”

Paxton didn’t look nervous at all which made Devi feel a little bit better. If he could be confident in her driving skills than so could she. Devi signalled and did a very exaggerated shoulder check before she pulled onto the road. There were no cars around the whole way to the school so the only thing she had to deal with were some stop signs and one set of lights. She totally could do this.

Devi’s whole body relaxed once they pulled into the parking lot and she didn’t have to worry about hitting things or people anymore.

“That was pretty good actually. How did you fail?” Paxton asked.

“Probably because I suck at driving?” Devi told him as she put the car in park.

“Shut up, you had issues with the parallel park right?” Paxton asked as he got out of the car.

“What are you doing?” Devi asked as he closed the door.

“Im going to teach you how to parallel park.” Paxton grinned sticking his head through the window.

Devi waited as he grabbed stuff from out of his trunk. A bin full of blankets and an empty cooler he had forgotten about. He set them up as pretend cars and he went to the drivers side.

“Okay, line yourself up.” Paxton said as Devi slowly moved the car so the bin of blankets was lined up with the back of the jeep.

Paxton gave her instructions and ran around indicating for her how far to back up and how much to turn the wheel and eventually she got into the spot.

“I don’t think they’re going to let you guide me into a spot on the test.” Devi said annoyed that it took so long.

“You just gotta keep practicing, eventually it’ll just be second nature.” Paxton said as he got back in the car. “Pull out and this time I’m not going to help you.” Paxton said as she groaned.

“I hate this.” Devi said getting frustrated.

“You won’t hate this once you can drive yourself anywhere you want. Now start moving before I force you to practice highway driving.” Paxton said as he relaxed into his seat.

Devi wanted to hit him and get angry but she knew he was her only hope of passing her test in a month so she contained herself and kept practicing.

When the day of Devi’s test came around she felt pretty confident she was going to fail again. Paxton had given her a pep talk before he left her house the night before but it hadn’t helped with her nerves.

“You got this, okay? Just make sure you signal, and don’t forget the emergency brake when you do the hill park.” He told her as he held her shoulders. “By this time tomorrow, you’re going to be fully licensed because you’re a great driver.”

Devi was just as shocked as her mother when she pulled into the DMV and had almost no deductions on her test. Nalini didn’t know about Paxton teaching her to drive but she managed to convince her that is was because the tester was a lot nicer than the last one. She had smiled the entire time she got her new license and had raced back to the car. She knew Paxton would be waiting for her at her house and she was beyond excited to tell him that his methods had actually worked.

Paxton was leaning on his car checking his phone when they got home. She had to stop herself from running to Paxton to tell him the good news. She got out of the car and Nalini kissed her head before going into the house.

“How’d it go?” He asked as she crossed her arms and pretended to look disappointed.

“I passed babyyy!” She screamed as she whipped out her temporary license.

“I fucking knew it! You never trust me.” Paxton grabbed her and spun her around.

“Where do you wanna go? I’m driving.” Devi said and Paxton laughed as he got in the passenger seat.

…..

“Can you spot me ten bucks?” Devi asked as she searched through her backpack for some money.

“You have literally worked all summer, how are you always broke?” Paxton muttered as he pulled out some change from his console.

“I just don’t have any cash on me.”

Paxton gave her a handful of change and Devi looked at him annoyed.

“Quarters? Really?” Devi struggled to hold all the coins and Paxton shrugged.

“Take it or leave it, but if you want boba I suggest you take it.” Paxton grinned and Devi rolled her eyes as she realized she couldn’t open the door holding all the change.

Paxton laughed as he leaned over to open the door for her. “Get me a milk tea.” He said as she hopped out of the car.

“If I even make it there without any hands.” She grumbled.

By the time she got back with their drinks, Paxton had all the windows down blasting Young Dumb & Broke by Khalid.

“Really?!” She had to scream for him to hear her over the music. He lip synced to the lyrics as he pointed to her and dramatically danced to the music. “You’re so annoying!” She screamed as he took a big sip of his tea. He pointed at the drink as if to say that it tastes good and gave her the ok sign with his fingers. Devi just rolled her eyes and sipped on her mango slush. She guessed it was worth the embarrassing amount of quarters she gave to the cashier and having to listen to Paxton call her dumb and broke.

“Are you going to make it to Trent’s this weekend? Last party of the summer.” Paxton asked as he turned the music down.

“Have you met my mother? She’s not going to let me go to Trent’s house for a party.” Devi replied looking through Paxton’s Spotify.

“Since when do you tell your mom about going to parties?” Paxton asked snorting.

“I’m trying to turn over a new leaf this year. No more lying, especially to my mom.” She said as she put on Savage by Megan Thee Stallion and Beyoncé.

“What if she knew I was taking you?” Paxton knew the party would suck without Devi there.

“Yeaaaaa, my mom might like you now but not that much.”

“Come on D, it’s the last party of the summer. You have to go!” Paxton pouted as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Fine, fine, I’ll figure out a way to go out but there’s no way she’ll let me stay out past 11.” Paxton smiled at her and agreed to be DD so he could get her home by 11.

By the time the weekend rolled around, Nalini didn’t even seem bothered by Devi leaving. Her and Kamala had been going crazy planning her wedding and Devi tended to be unhelpful in that area. She was only good for the grunt work, which she was sure there would be a lot of once it got closer to the day.

All she had to say was that she was going to Eleanor’s house for a back to school hangout and Nalini quickly agreed to get her out of the house. Technically she wasn’t lying because they had to pick up Eleanor at her house and they were having a back to school hangout. It was just a hangout with most of the school and alcohol.

Devi acted as casual as possible as she closed the front door but she sprinted as soon as the door closed. She didn’t want to risk her mom seeing her actually getting in Paxton’s car instead of Fabiola’s. Devi had been asking her mom for a car for weeks but still nothing. Her mom was convinced that she should have enough money saved since she had a summer job but summer camps didn’t exactly pay top dollar and Devi was pretty irresponsible with her money this summer. She figured she had two more summers to hustle before she went to Princeton.

“You look so pretty in that dress.” Paxton said as soon as she got in the car.

Devi blushed and couldn’t control her smile. “Shut up loser.”

Paxton smiled back at her as they went to pick up Eleanor and Fabiola.

Trent’s house was packed full of people but he was standing at the door waiting for Eleanor. He hugged her tightly and dragged her off to the back of the house.

Paxton went to grab them some drinks and handed Devi and Fabiola beers. “Bread soda.”

Devi rolled her eyes and shoved him away. Fabiola had learned a long time to ignore their inside jokes and she wandered off.

Paxton was always treated like a god at parties and everyone wanted their time with him. Paxton gave people his typical cool guy head nod and pulled Devi outside where it was less crowded.

“So, you excited for school to start?” Paxton asked and Devi looked confused.

“Sure, I guess.” Paxton looked nervous which made Devi more confused. “Why are you making weird small talk?”

“I just guess this is the last time we’re hanging out before school starts.” Devi’s confusion became anger very quickly.

“What is that supposed to mean? Like things are going to change when school starts?” Devi questioned starting to get upset.

“No, chill Devi. I mean I do want things to change but not the way you think.” Now Devi was back to confused.

Paxton looked frustrated and looked around them. No one was around or paying attention to them. Paxton turned back to Devi and got way closer to her than she was used to. Kiss Me More by Doja Cat and SZA was playing in the house but it sounded far away.

He touched her cheek and lifted her mouth to his. “Is this okay?” He asked nervously.

Instead of answering Devi pushed her lips against his. Paxton smiled against her and pulled her tight to him.

……

“You want me to pick you up tomorrow?” Paxton texted and Devi smiled when she saw the message.

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” She replied quickly.

“No worries, we’re both going to the same place. Better for the environment and all that”

“I’ll make a driving playlist.” He sent back a smiley face and an ok hand.

Devi couldn’t wait for tomorrow. This was going to be the best summer of her life.

[btsqualityy]

Heaven Sent; Part 6

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: Emotional manipulation (at least, that’s what I think it would be catergorized as).

Month seven was a month of exploration. After you and Jin admitted to being attracted to each other and deciding to try things out to see what happens, you were seemingly thrown into the deep end with how open Jin became after that.

You learned that he loves to cook, and that he would’ve been a chef if he hadn’t taken over the business end of his father’s restaurants. He double majored in both business and culinary arts, and he was Hae-il’s roommate and the first person that he met during their first year. He loves trot music, and you’ve unfortunately been on the receiving end of him serenading you with a song numerous times. He also loves video games and you were willing to bet that if he didn’t have to work, then he’d been stuck behind a computer screen playing games all day. 

There was just so much more to Jin and his personality that you never knew about, and you couldn’t believe that you found yourself liking him more and more as the two of you spent more time together. 

“Uncle Jinnie, can I get the songpyeon?” Aera asked Jin from her place perched on his shoulders and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the way that she pronounced the word. The three of you had met for brunch at a little café down the block from his office, where he had been doing some work.

“Little Heart, we’ve talked about this,” Jin chuckled as he patted her feet where they swung lightly by his chin. “Just say rice cakes.”

“But I’m a big girl and that’s what the sign says!” She shot back and you smiled as you looked up at her.

“Don’t remind me,” you chuckled. “You’re growing up too fast Love.”

“Can I get them uncle Jinnie?” Aera asked again, and you and Jin could both hear the impatience that had creeped into her tone so he rapidly nodded before turning to the cashier.

“Can we have two pink lemonades, an iced Americano, a songypeon and two dasiks?” Jin ordered and the cashier nodded. Jin then reached down, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his slacks and taking out his card, handing it to the cashier. After he got his card back, the three of you moved further down the counter so that the next person behind you could place his order.

“I hope that we didn’t pull you away from anything too important,” you spoke up as you looked at Jin. 

“Nah, I was just filling out some paper work and signing off on some things, so it was mostly procedural stuff,” he told you. “And even if it were really important, I don’t mind taking a break for you guys.”

“It’s also Saturday, so you shouldn’t be overworking yourself anyways,” you smiled gently, trying to hide the way that your cheeks had warmed up from his words. 

“Order #353,” a voice called out and you and Jin stepped up to the counter, grabbing your drinks and snacks. After finding a small table in one corner of the café, the three of you sat down, Aera perched on Jin’s lap as she ate her rice cake. 

“Did you have a good week at school Little Heart?” Jin asked her and you watched as her little eyes widened.

“Yes,” she whispered and Jin looked down at her, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“She had an issue with a boy in her class on Wednesday,” you told him and he looked up at you. 

“What happened?” He wondered.

“The little boy made a comment about Hae and Aera stomped on his foot and hit him in the stomach,” you revealed. 

“Aera,” Jin called disapprovingly and Aera’s head whipped up at the utterance of her real name from Jin. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” She exclaimed. “He said Daddy died because he doesn’t love me and I know that’s not true so I hit him!”

“Of course it’s not true sweetheart,” Jin cooed, lifting his hand and wiping away at the hot tears that had started to gather in the corners of her eyes. “Your Daddy loves you so much and he wouldn’t have left if he had the choice so that boy shouldn’t have said that. That doesn’t mean that you can just go around hitting people either though.”

“Mommy said the same thing,” Aera pouted.

“That’s because Mommy’s pretty smart,” Jin smiled. “So no more fights, ok?”

“Ok,” Aera nodded before going back to eating. 

“Thanks,” you said and Jin raised an eyebrow as he brought his cup of coffee to his mouth. 

“For what?”

“For backing me up,” you replied. “She’s always better convinced if more than one person tells her the same thing.”

“Just like Hae,” Jin laughed as he shook his head. “Anyways though, what do you guys have planned for today?”

“Me and Mommy are going to see grandma and grandpa today!” Aera interjected suddenly. 

“Your parents?” Jin asked and you shook your head.

“Hae’s,” you told you. “I think it’ll be good for her to see them, especially after what happened this week. We’re gonna go catch up and then Aera is gonna stay the night.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “So does this mean that our regular Saturday movie night is cancelled?”

“Only this one,” Aera told him and he smiled before reaching down and tweaking her nose. 

“Good,” he said, making her giggle as you watched them fondly.

After finishing your drinks and snacks, Jin walked with you and Aera back down the block to your car. He put her inside, helping her strap herself into her booster seat before shutting the door and looking down at you.

“So, are you and me still on for our movie night?” Jin smirked and you reached out, smacking his chest lightly as you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re gross,” you giggled. “But yes, we’re still on. I’ll only stay with Aera for about an hour and then I’ll be home so you can just come over whenever.”

“Alright. I do have to finish up some stuff but I don’t think it’ll take me long at all,” he responded. “Still, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Ok,” you smiled and the two of you stood there in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other. 

“Is she looking?” Jin asked and peaking your head around his arm, you saw that Aera was looking down at one of the books that you kept in the car for her.

“Nope,” you told him and suddenly, his lips were pressed against yours. You kissed him back, sighing contentedly before pulling away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered, and you nodded.

“Bye.”

......................................

“Oh, hi my baby!” Jin-joo exclaimed, leaning down so that she could catch Aera in her arms as Aera rushed up to her. You shut the car door, smiling as you walked up to the front steps of Hae-il’s parent’s house.

“Hi Y/N-ah,” Gun greeted you and you stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “Is that little one’s bag?”

“Oh yeah, it has all of the things that she’ll need,” you nodded, pulling Aera’s small backpack from over your shoulder and handing it over to him.

“We still have some of her stuff here though,” Gun mentioned.

“I figured but she’s hit a growth spurt in the last two months or so,” you told him with a smile. “It seems like she outgrew every single piece of clothing that she owned all at the same time.”

“That just means you’re eating well huh?” Jin-joo smiled at Aera, who nodded rapidly in her arms. “Well, both of you come on in.” You followed behind Jin-joo and Gun, watching with a smile as they both helped Aera take off her jacket and her shoes. As you worked on taking off your own shoes and jacket, Jin-joo handed Aera off to Gun.

“Why don’t you show Aera some of the new things that we bought for her?” Jin-joo suggested and Aera’s eyes instantly lit up. 

“New toys?” She wondered excitedly.

“Why don’t we go see?” Gun chuckled, turning off and carrying Aera off down the hallway. Once they were gone, Jin-joo turned to you with a wide smile.

“Tea?” She offered.

“Please,” you nodded, following behind her into the kitchen. You sat down at the small table that was there and you watched silently as she grabbed a kettle, moving over to the sink and filling it with water before moving over to the stove. 

“How have you been getting along dear?” She asked you and you sighed lightly, thinking over your answer. 

“Honestly, I’m doing a lot better than I thought I would be after only 7 months,” you admitted. “I haven’t burst out crying in a good three weeks or so, which I consider to be progress.”

“That’s definitely good progress,” she chuckled with a soft smile as she moved to sit across the table from you. “And Aera?”

“Oh, she’s been doing amazingly,” you smiled. “Well, of course besides the incident on Wednesday.”

“I felt so bad when you called and told us about that,” Jin-joo sighed. “I bet she misses him so much.”

“She does,” you confirmed. A few seconds of silence passed over the two of you before you heard her take a deep inhale. 

“I have to say Y/N-ah, and I really hope that you don’t take extreme offense to this, but I began to think after you called Thursday,” Jin-joo began. “And I couldn’t help but to wonder if Aera acting out that way has to do with Seokjin?” Your eyes immediately widened at her words, not expecting her to say that.

“What would he have to do with that?” You questioned.

“Well, I know that she’s been spending an increased amount of time with him, with the both of you, together,” she corrected herself. “And with her being so young, I can’t help but to be concerned about what that’s doing to the memory that she has of her father.”

“Jin-joo, you’re skirting around what you really want to say, and I’d prefer if you would just say it,” you told her.

“Alright, fine,” she nodded. “In my opinion, it is much too soon or you to be moving on and seeing other men and Aera is clearly suffering from it.” You couldn’t help the chuckle that you let out then, the disbelief almost overwhelming you.

“First off, the relationship that I have with Jin isn’t anything like you’re thinking,” you said. “Secondly, you know me Jin-joo. You know I’d never do anything that would carry even the slightest risk of harming Aera in any way, shape, or form.”

“But you’re grieving, and grief can make us do things that we normally wouldn’t,” she noted.

“I can see that,” you replied tersely. 

“Look Y/N-ah, I’m only concerned about your and Aera’s well being,” she insisted. “Hae-il’s death has greatly affected all of us but more than anyone, it’s affected Aera the most. Now, I know Seokjin and I know he more than likely has the best of intentions but I don’t think it’s a good idea to allow him to get too comfortable in Aera’s life.”

“But he’s already been around since she was born,” you shot back. 

“Which makes it even worse that he’s pursuing you not even a year after her father’s death,” Jin-joo explained before exhaling harshly. “I’m going to ask you a question and I would like an honest answer.”

“Ok.”

“Did you love my son?” She asked and your jaw dropped slightly.

“Of course I did, and you know that better than anyone,” you spat harshly.

“Then for the sake of that and the sake of the wellbeing of my granddaughter, who is the only tie that any of us have to Hae-il, you should wait to involve yourself in any other relationships,” she advised you and you hated to admit it, but you really began to think about what she was saying. Things with Jin had happened very quickly and even though you had been concerned with how your relationship with him would look to others, it hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind.  

Even though you didn’t like how she approached the topic with you, you had to admit that just maybe....she had a point.

......................................

Your thoughts only began to run away with you even more after you left Hae-il’s parents house and made it back to your own. 

You never wanted your love for Hae-il to be doubted but you could understand why Jin-joo would ask you a question like that. You had been spending a lot of time with Jin but you had always justified it by saying that if he makes you and Aera happy, then there was no harm in having him around.

But did he really make Aera happy though? It seemed like he did and she definitely loved him, which no one with eyes could deny, but she was also an easily distracted 6 year old who would be happy if you gave her a sucker. You had to think about if having Jin around so much was causing her to act out or not, because maybe she felt like she was loosing touch with Hae-il and that was absolutely the last thing that you wanted. 

Once you got home, you decided that you wanted to be close to Hae-il so after taking a shower, you changed into a pair of his old jogging pants and one of his button up flannel shirts. After making yourself some ramen, you settled down with it on the couch, making sure to grab your photo album on the way. Grabbing a blanket, you pulled it over your lap and opened the photo album, choosing to look through some of the photos while you waited for your ramen to cool down. 

The very first photo you saw was from your and Hae-il’s engagement photo shoot, where he was sitting in a chair and you were standing behind him, your arms wrapped around his neck. Your engagement ring was on display, a dainty ruby rock that fit around your left ring finger perfectly. You’d always loved that ring, even sometimes favoring it over the gold wedding band that you exchanged with Hae-il a year after that engagement photo shoot. You hadn’t worn it since Hae-il died though, not being able to stomach looking at it for more than a few seconds at a time.

The next photo was of you and Hae-il on your wedding day, your eyes shining with tears as Hae-il read his vows to you at the altar. That day was amazing, the love that you were feeling for him almost overwhelming you at times throughout the ceremony. You laughed to yourself as you remembered how Hae-il almost spilled wine on your wedding dress at the reception later that night, getting slightly too tipsy on soju as he tried to whisk you around the dance floor.

As you continued to look through the photo album, you hadn’t even realized that tears had been welling up in your eyes until it rolled down your cheek and onto the photo album, splashing right onto a photo of you, Hae-il, and Aera that had been taken on her first birthday. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I can’t believe that I even thought that I’d be able to do this.” As you continued to look through the album, your phone buzzed on the table and when you leaned forward to pick it up, you saw that you had a text from Jin.

“On my way out soon,” it read. “We still on for tonight?”

Biting your lip as more tears rushed down your face, you huffed harshly as you realized what it was that you needed to do. 

“No,” it stated simply. After making sure that it sent, you then turned your phone off, setting it back on the table before looking back down on the photo album. 

“I love you,” you whispered as you ran your finger over a photo of Hae-il holding a baby Aera and smiling brightly at the camera. “And I’m so sorry if I made you think that I didn’t.”

[burnedbyshoto]

Attraction

Kinktober Day 27 ~ kink: rivalry

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cussing, alcohol mention, college!au

word count: 11,000

a/n: I went.... plus ultra on this... I wrote it all day and I think its amazing. if you’re concerned I even made a literal summary of what it is. by all means you can read most of this even if you don’t like smut!!!

Synopsis: You and Shouto have to work with each other on a psychology project. A psychology project on attraction. The hard thing about this of course is that the two of you hate each other. 

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Being a doctor was the biggest dream you’ve had since high school. You wanted to take care of people, improve their physical and emotional wellbeing. A doctor was your everyday hero and you wanted to be that.

When university applications began during high school, you submitted an application to the best school in Japan.

Yuuei University.

They were now known for their very low acceptance rate, it's high retention and graduation rates! As well as most graduates becoming the most successful individuals in their field! It was no question that you applied there!

When you got in, your family and you had celebrated for an entire week. It was extraordinary.

Of course, Yuuei was a rigorous university. You spent days and nights studying. Even the weekends weren’t filled with partying due to the nature of your classes. As a Biochemistry Major, you had a lot on your plate. All while taking the needed courses as well as the pre-req classes for medical school. You were always at the top of your game.

So when you were selecting classes for the second semester of your third year, it shocked you to hear that four more units of a psychology class were needed. A class needed to complete the core requirements that the university held.

So you sat in your advisor's office. Your eyes looked at the different courses offered for psychology. All the weird ones were for the second semester. You had first pick still, given that you had so many credits and were now an upperclassman.

“Is there anything in psychology dealing with physiological or neurological issues?” You asked, only seeing Abnormal Psychology which you’d already taken.

Your advisor looked up at you, his tired eyes bloodshot as he skimmed the course list. Aizawa had been your advisor since you were admitted. You came in already declared as a Biochemistry major and had stuck with your decision all this time.

“There’s a 400 level class called Psychology and the Brain,” Aizawa told you, moving his computer screen for you to look at. “It looks like you met the requirements to take the class, and it’s the only class close to what you want.”

You nod your head as you type out the class on your phone.

“It meets twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday for two hours,” Aizawa tells you as you nod. All of your other classes were on other days. It worked within your schedule.

“That sounds good!” You chirp standing up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder you sigh. “You’ll let me know if I have any of the same classes as him?”

“No can do, you two have the same major. You need to get over this childish rivalry.” Aizawa deadpans as your nose wrinkles.

“Fine.” You moan as you wave goodbye, your pace quickening so you wouldn’t miss your one p.m. lecture.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The Next Semester

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes widened as you stepped into the Psychology lecture. It was a bigger class then you were expecting. With a total of what you were guessing to be already sixty people in the class, your eyes locked onto your friends.

“Y/l/n!”

“Hi, Mina.” You smile as you walk over towards the empty seat next to your best friend.

“I can’t believe I’m taking this class!” She gushes as you sit down next to her, your fingers pulling out your laptop in preparation for the class. “I wasn’t going to take this class at all, but then you told me you were taking it! I also heard that this is a huge partner-based class, so if we get paired up together it’ll be super fun!”

You nod your head in agreement as the pink-haired girl rambles off. She speaks excitedly about what this new semester was going to bring! About how excited she was for the final year next year! While she was speaking to you, your eyes took a better sweep of the room.

There were a lot of people you recognized! You’d taken classes with many of these individuals before. It was for general biology, general chemistry, and the abnormal psychology class. You smiled and a warm feeling spread in your chest seeing that the one person you didn’t want here wasn’t here.

“Did you hear that Yao-momo is going on a date?” Mina asks you, and your eyes widen.

“What! No?! With who?!” Your jaw is on the floor as Mina catches you up to speed.

During your freshman orientation, you were then placed into a group of twenty kids. Under the name of Group 1-A, the twenty of you became very close friends! To this day, you were all very close! That is, except for you and him.

Well, he wasn't close to anyone except ten people.

Your eyes snapped towards the front of the lecture hall as Professor Midnight walked in. Multiple binders in her hands as she tossed them onto the table by the podium.

Professor Midnight was a blessing to your school, in your opinion at least. She was incredibly intelligent and was very open about her sex life. Midnight was funny and entertaining. It made you wish at times that you were a psychology major just so that you could have more classes with her. Midnight believed that being open with your sexual identity and things alike were important.

“Alright!” Midnight shouted towards the class and everyone quieted down. “The syllabus is on the website, make sure to read it! We have a lot to cover and not enough time so without further adieu, let’s get—“

The doors opened.

Your eyes looked back and your previous excitement died in your chest as you saw who walked in. Tall and serious, with a pair of black joggers and a black t-shirt he sat down near the front of the class.

A short giggle was heard from Mina who nudged you. You had to restrain the frustrated groan at the back of your throat as you rubbed your throbbing temples.

Why?

Why must this always happen?

“Todoroki-san, thank you for being on time for the first lecture.” Midnight jokes with no malice as she turns her attention back to what she was saying.

Your eyes wander toward the two-tone-haired man. Your fingers drum against the desk as you exhale, why was this always happening?

“As you may or may not have heard already, this class is a major project class. There is minimal lecturing, only presentations that will be conducted based on your topic. The final is a paper and formal presentation to be done with your partner.” You felt Mina nudge you with her elbow and you glanced at her and grinned. “That being said, I have already created said partners for you.”

Your smile fell off your face as Midnight connected her laptop to the projector.

“This list was created at random, so no, I do not care if you want to trade or switch partners. You don’t get that option. Please find your name and partner and sit next to each other. We will begin with your first assignment after you’re paired up.”

The list flashed onto the screen, and your eyes scour the list in search of your name.

Please just let it be someone good…

“Oh,” Mina exclaims, her hands on her face as she grins. “I’m with Aoyama!”

“Aoyama’s in the class?!” You ask looking around for your favorite blond.

“I guess so, but I need to go find him now! Good luck!” Mina cries as she grabs her things and looks around.

Your frown increases as your eyes continue down the list.

Y/l/n y/n.

Y/l/n y/n.

Y/l/n—

Your breathing stops in your throat as you find your name near the bottom.

Todoroki Shouto, Y/l/n y/n.

Oh no.

Your eyes immediately look over towards Todoroki who’s looking back at you. If this was an anime, the class would have dropped in temperature by fifty degrees by two of your’s icy glares. Both of you didn’t move.

Everyone else was already with their partner, introductions being made if they didn’t already know the other.

But you and Todoroki?

Neither one of you moved.

Your gazes still locked, but your bodies were unmoving. Like hell, you were going to move to the front of the room.

In fact, Todoroki was the only person in the front of the room! You had also decided that you were not moving.

With your gaze never breaking away from his, you point towards the empty seat next to you. Todoroki rolls his eyes, his own finger pointing towards the empty chair next to him.

Both of you refusing to move, and your heart was pounding in your frustration. Why was he such a fucking dick?

“Todoroki, Y/l/n…” Midnight called, her arms folded as her eyes swept between the two of you. Giggles erupt within the class. Oh yes, the hatred and rivalry between the two of you were legendary within the school. “One of you needs to move…”

“I was here on time, professor.” You say never once breaking eye contact with the heterochromatic man. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Thinking he could act this way because his dad was rich and sort of famous?

“As was I.” Todoroki quirks his eyebrow. “Lecture starts at one thirty-five. It was one thirty-four when I walked in; Midnight was early.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I was here first.” Your lips pressing into a scowl as you crossed your arms.

“Too embarrassed to sit in the front, y/l/n?” Todoroki taunts and your rage spikes.

“Too stupid to pay attention near the back, Todoroki?” You retort.

“Children, children!” Midnight cries, her fingers rubbing her temples. “Let’s compromise! Why don’t you sit in the middle of where you both are.”

You want to say no, but you know what a pain in the ass the two of you are. Still, as you gather your things, the two of you refuse to break eye contact. You walk towards the middle and sit on the aisle seat. The class snickering as Todoroki takes the other aisle seat.

There was no winning in this war.

“...okay, well moving on. Let’s pick your first research project which is due next month!” Midnight exclaims her hands grabbing a jar with folded pieces of paper in it. Seeing that you and Todoroki were in front of everyone else, Midnight approaches you two first. “Who’s pulling?”

Both your and Todoroki’s hands shootout. Your eyes glaring at each other as Todoroki retreats his hand given that you’re closer. You smirked in triumph as you place your hand into the bucket and pull out a piece of paper.

You unfold the paper and read-aloud for the class.

“The Mental and Physiological Effects of Attraction…” Your voice trails off, your body seemingly wilting in on itself as you sigh.

Todoroki’s glare slams onto your face and ooh’s and ahh’s resonate through the class. Your hands rub your face as Midnight giggles leaving the two of you to get to the next pair.

Why were you so out of luck when it came to Todoroki?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“So, you’ll never guess what!” Mina laughs as she drinks from her bottle of soju.

You roll your eyes as you look over your class notes from the week. After what you would call an average first week back to school, you and your friends were gathered together to study and drink. Was it a bad combination? Yes. Was it fun though? Yes.

“Let me guess!” Hagakure squealed. The medical mask she always wore was on the table, her stack of textbooks and notes on the floor. Hagakure wasn’t one too involved in her studies. “Todoroki-kun and y/n are in all the same classes together!”

Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment and anger as the six girls howled in laughter. “Come on!” You moan as you pouted. The many pages of notes you had been writing were currently being transferred onto a google doc for clarity and memory retention.

Mina nods her head excitedly, ignoring your protests as she rambles. “Not only are they in the same classes, but they’re partners for the entire rest of the semester! Plus they’re writing about attraction!” The girls seem to eat this right up as you try to ignore them.

Momo nudges you with her shoulder, her fingers grabbing at your notebook for the psychology class. “You two can’t get enough of each other, can you?” She teases as she flips through your notebook that was already filled with notes.

“You’d think with all those classes they have together they’d at least be lawful with each other.” Uraraka snorts as she takes a rather big chug from her drink.

“He’s a fucking dick that’s why.” You roll your eyes as you crack your sore wrist. You had finished up your notes for your biochemistry class. Now you would be moving on to starting the paper with Todoroki.

There was a good reason for this paper to take an entire month to be due. It was required to be at least fifty pages with fifteen different resources, and to your belief, it was going to be a pain in the ass to complete.

“I think he’s super hot, too bad he won’t ever give in to my seduction!” Mina sighs and you choke on your water, your eyes flying to your best friend.

“E-Excuse me?!”

“Just because you two want to skin each other doesn’t mean I don't want to.” Mina laughs and you groan.

“Why do you even hate Todoroki-san?” Tsuyu asks, her fingers on her chin in a quizzical fashion. “I thought you two were finally over your pride?”

“OH, I can explain this.” Jirou cackles as leans onto the table. Her musical compositions hidden behind her elbows. “Todoroki and y/n are in the same major! They have the same classes all the time somehow, and have received the same test scores on everything! They share the same ranking in school because of this, and y/n is super salty about it.”

“I am not salty!” You complain, your hands covering your face as the girls laugh at you. “I tried to be fucking nice, but he was a total cunt to me, so I stopped.”

“But Todoroki-san isn’t rude.” Momo defends her longtime friend.

“To you maybe.” You sigh, your fingers grasping the bottle of wine that Momo had been hogging. “I just think there’s no reason for me to be nice to someone who isn’t nice to me.”

“Sounds petty to me!” Uraraka laughs as you kick her shin from under the table. But the girls are too lost in their mirth over this situation that your protests fall on deaf ears. “Watch them get into the same medical school, too!”

You freeze as you look up from your new google doc, “What now?”

“He wants to be a doctor, too.” Jirou sighs, her head leaning against her palm. “This is really old news.”

“Wha--”

“Why do you even dislike Todoroki-kun?” Hagakure asks, her head tilted as she takes a long chug from her drink. “I’ve never understood why.”

“Because he’s arrogant, condescending, his voice is entirely way too annoying! He always rolls his eyes when someone says something wrong but never raises his hand to say the right thing! Then he always has this attitude! For the one philosophy class, I took, did you know he always was on the opposing team just to fight against me? I was never fucking wrong, but he never failed to be on the opposite team just because I was on the other team. Plus, that one time I had my hands full of shit and was trying to go to the elevator -- stop laughing -- he let the doors close before I even got there!” You scowl at your amused friends who were in very much enjoying your rant. “So no, Jirou, it is not because of school-related things!”

“Maybe they just need to fuck to get over whatever’s happening between them.” Mina stage whispers to Uraraka who nods in agreement.

“Come on, what is this high school?” You roll your eyes.

They could only grin as they shouted to each other their ideas as to what was happening between you and Todoroki. There was a knock on your door and you sighed as you pushed away from the table and walked over to the door.

“Who is it?” Tsuyu calls before you can even open the door.

“I don’t know!” You respond as you throw open the door and come face to chest with Todoroki.

A scowl solidifies over your face as you look up at the taller man. “What?” You ask, your arms folding as you lean against the door frame.

“You guys are being loud.” He says, his face in a deadpan.

“Quiet hours aren’t until midnight, and it’s only eleven.”

“I know, but we can still come over and complain.”

“We’ll be quiet at midnight.”

“I’m asking you to be quiet now.”

“You’re the only ones complaining, and I’m sure you and the boys aren’t being quiet yourselves.”

“Midoriya has a headache.” Todoroki narrowed his eyes at your stubborn position.

“Midoriya-kun was over ten minutes ago! He was feeling perfect because he was talking to Uraraka-chan.” You remark, your hands coming out to look at your fingernails.

“Who is it, y/l/n-chan!” Momo calls out this time.

“It’s me,” Todoroki responds as you made no effort to respond to your friend.

Your eyes shut in a grimace at the sounds of scraping chairs. You can hear them walking over. The small yet amused chatter ringing in your ears as you glare up at Todoroki who quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!” Mina exclaims and you watch as your friends all greet your bitter rival.

“You guys are being loud, would you mind being quieter?” Todoroki asks someone in the group, but his eyes are concentrated on yours.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry for being loud.” Jirou responds back for the group, but you roll your eyes as Todoroki smiles in thanks. It’s a smile directed at Jirou but his damn eyes are still on you. A stupid charming smile on a stupid fucking asshole.

“Is that it?” You ask, your nose sticking up into the air, your hand on the door ready to slam it into his face.

“Oh, for the paper. I’ve already started.” Todoroki tells you with a condescending smirk. “I’ll share the document with you, but I don’t expect you to write anything productive or of value onto it.”

“I can write a fucking paper in two minutes that is a trillion times better than you in a whole month.” Your sneer as your grip on the door tightens.

“You look like the type to forget to write your own name on papers, oh wait--”

You slam the door in his face, your ears burning with embarrassment as you refuse to turn around. You don’t want to see your friends faces as your head slams against the wood door.

“You… forget to write your name on your papers?” Momo asks you.

“It’s okay, y/n, I forget all the damn time.” Mina cackles as they drag you back to the kitchen. Despite your best attempts, the girls remained relatively quiet for the rest of the night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two Weeks Until the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You walked into the library. Your fingers were holding onto your cup of tea. Your arms filled with books for your research paper, and your backpack was open. You ignored the looks of pity that followed you as you climbed the staircase of the library.

How was it only two weeks into the semester and you were looking like it was finals week? This was the fucking worst.

On top of your disheveled state, you were late for your meeting with Todoroki. On one hand, you hated being late. You were a punctual student and always arrived before necessary! So there was a part of you that felt bad even if it was Todoroki. But on the other hand, fuck him.

You giggled at that thought as you moved towards the study rooms on the back walls. Your eyes peered into each room. Looking for what seemed like the genetic phenomenon boy himself. You found him in the room furthest away sitting in there with Bakugou who was packing up his own things. Without knocking you walked in, the door slamming against the wall as you did so.

“Fucking hell, y/n/n!” Bakugou hissed as you walked in. “Learn how to open a fucking door correctly!”

Placing the cup of tea onto the table you smiled at the ash-blond who was zipping up his backpack. “Sorry, my hands were full and I don’t know my own strength.” You tease as the blond man pinches your cheeks playfully. “Ow, don’t be an asshole!”

“Respect the laws of the school first.” 

“Don’t become Iida!” You laugh as Bakugou pulls you into a one-armed hug. Oh, how the three years at Yuuei had changed this man.

“Hah? Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as he pulls his backpack on. “Alright, I’ll be going, see you guys.” His hand waves as he walks out of the room leaving you and Todoroki in the awkward silence of the room.

You move in silence. Pulling out your notebook, organizing the textbooks you had, and grabbing your laptop.

Todoroki is sitting by the wall, and in a room designed to hold at most ten people, you sat on the chair furthest from him. You pull out the rolling chair and sink in. Your eyes falling on Todoroki finally who was looking less than amused.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I don’t want to waste my memory data on you.”

“Too bad, you’d finally have something of value on your phone.”

Todoroki rolls his eyes as he leans backward. “You were late though.”

“Oh get your panties out of a twist,” You mumble as you open the shared document between the two of you. “I lost track of time.”

“You said you were on your way thirty minutes ago. You’re five minutes away.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you stare at him, “I’m tired, Todoroki. I went to go get some damn tea and they messed up my order! But since it was the coffee rush hour they couldn’t make my tea right away as they typically do.”

Todoroki glares at you but breaks away from it as you both turn to the paper.

It’s silent outside of your fingers hitting the keyboard. The paper was being written at the very least.

Well, okay, it wasn’t really.

The two of you had fought at three in the morning about how ugly the paper was being written. Yes, your roommates were sick of the two of you when the argument was being fought. The same night he had told you and your roommates to shut up, you went over thirty minutes later to complain about how he was writing the paper. Under the combined powers of Momo, Iida, and Midoriya the two of you agreed to write the paper separately. Later you would join whatever flowed better between the two of your pieces. The prompt was the same after all, and you were both using the same resources.

“I’m playing music.” You announce, putting your Spotify playlist on.

You knew what music Todoroki hated. It took getting your best friends drunk, but you had managed to get a shitload of information on Todoroki. Details surrounding what he liked, but more importantly, what he hated.

You concentrated on the paper in front of you, but the curling grin on your face was unstoppable as you caught him freezing. His eyes snapping over to your hunched figure as I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys played through your speakers.

“I don’t like this song,” Todoroki says, his tone smooth. His hands pressing into the table in what could be an intimidating position.

“Hm, I don’t remember saying I was playing this song for you…” You murmur. You straighten up as you stare at him, your mouth dropping as you shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of pop music? This genre has the greatest artists in the world! Like when people say they like rap or lo-fi they’re insane for ever believing that!”

Todoroki stares at you, his expression unamused as he turns back towards his computer.

Oh yeah, you were both going to murder each other well before this paper was due.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Week Before the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You sat on Todoroki’s bedroom floor.

Your hands shifting through the mountain of books the two of you were in possession of for the paper. The assignment itself was not hard at all. In fact, had you been with a less infuriating partner, you were positive it would have finished already. But for some reason, whenever Todoroki and you made one step forward, you shot back twenty steps.

Today you were working on the assignment in his room for a few varying reasons.

One is that for some reason all the study rooms were being used and the two of you didn’t have time to wait around. Second, being that Uraraka had requested to have the dorm room for four hours. Given that you have all requested to have the place to yourself before, everyone agreed. The third and final reason being that Todoroki’s kitchen and dining areas were now occupied by his roommates.

When the two of you trudged in together, his roommates nearly lost their shit. Kirishima and Iida were the most expressive, and Bakugou had quirked an amused eyebrow. You were a bit confused as to why they all seemed so excited by your arrival with Todoroki of all people. Most people were not so amused when the two of you entered the same room.

“We’re here to write the paper.” Todoroki inputted right away, walking to his room as soon as he could. You rolled your eyes as you went around and said hi to his own roommates-- your friends.

You, uncaring of what Todoroki thought of you, stayed out there and talked with your friends. Todoroki and you were both thirty-seven pages into your separate and yet to be fused paper. Given that you had a whole outline for the next at least thirteen pages, you weren’t in too much of a hurry to run over to his room.

“Y/l/n, really?” Todoroki snaps as you were talking to Kirishima about if he would help you dye your hair one day. You look over at Todoroki who’s changed into sweats and a white t-shirt.

Stupid fucking genetic phenomenon you internally cursed as you smiled at the other boys.

“I guess I gotta go, don’t forget about me.” You depart with a sad smile, Todoroki glaring at you as you pass him in the hallway.

Now, you sat on his floor as he took his bed. Your fingers were typing away as you hummed to the playing music. It was Todoroki’s turn to play the designated music, and you had to admit lo-fi music was extremely catchy.

Your feet tap along with the music as you think of ways to rearrange a sentence you had written.

“What did you get on Aizawa’s test?” Todoroki asked you, ripping your thoughts away from your writing. Your eyes fluttered as you looked at him.

“The test grades are out already?” You asked as you pull out your phone to look at your grades app.

“Just posted,” Todoroki grumbles.

You nod as you look at your result. A swell of pride shoots through you as you nod, “What did you get?” You ask a confident smirk on your face.

“Ninety-seven percent.”

“Fucking hell.” You growl tossing your phone away from you. “Same here…”

Your eyes glue onto your laptop again, and you miss the amused smirk on Todoroki’s face as you continue writing.

“Are you almost done yet?” Todoroki asks you, his eyebrow quirked.

You glance up, your eyes rolling as you scoff. “I’m on page forty-three, what are you on? Twenty?”

“I have fifty pages done.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

Your fingers trace your mousepad. Sure enough, there are ninety-three pages on the single document. Your lips tighten as your eye twitches.

“Well, it’s easier to write when you’re implementing an eighty percent quote paper.” You snark as you return to your pages.

“My paper has the bare minimum amount of quotes, you’re the idiot who can’t keep up.”

You huff your fingers returning to the paper as you typed away. The music kept playing as the two of you remained in silence. You pushed your hair out of your face. You continued looking between what you were writing and what you were needing to put.

“What are you even writing?” Todoroki asks you, his brows furrowing as you type away.

“The paper we’ll be submitting, why?” You ask, your eyes looking over at him before returning back to your screen.

“It’s kind of shit.”

“I bet yours is worse, so shut up.”

“You know, there’s no shame in admitting that you’re not good at writing.”

“There is nothing wrong with my writing!” You sneer as you continue writing, your fingers coming down to hit the keyboard harder. The clattering of the keys echoing in your ears as your heart hammers away.

“Nothing is making sense, it’s a research paper, y/l/n. Why are you trying to make the wording pretty? No one cares how many high-level words are in your vocabulary, be concise and stop being a fucking scholar.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forget that words like brain and neurology are too advanced for you.” You gasp as you stare at his unamused eyes. “Oh, let me dumb that down for you. My words too smart for your head.” You pout in mocking sadness as you return to your paper.

You can’t explain it, but your heart feels like it’s cracking as the two of you remain in tense silence as you finish writing.

It takes an hour, but you’re finally done with your fifty pages. You stand up without a single word. Your joints are sore from the uncomfortable floor, but you pack up without a sound. You can feel Todoroki’s eyes following after you as you throw your arms under your backpack and leave. His bedroom door slamming closed as you walk into the hallway.

Six pairs of eyes stare at you as you smile weakly.

“Bye, boys,” you say as you walk out.

This semester was nearly a month in and you were going to have to deal with him for the rest of the semester. Something told you that you were not going to be able to handle Todoroki for much longer.

Yes, you hated him, but you could not fight and argue with him every day of the week. It was just exhausting.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Three Hours Until Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes trained on Todoroki’s paper.

Your pointer dragging along sentences you hated. Editing basic issues he passed by and leaving comments where you deemed necessary.

“What the fuck was wrong with that sentence?” Todoroki asks, his eye twitching as you were busy typing in a reason why the sentence was wrong.

“Wait for my comments,” you sneer as you press publish.

You continue reading his paper. Your eyes concentrating on yet another sentence that you believed was subpar.

“You hate the entire thing because I didn’t use a semicolon?” Todoroki exclaims, his hand dragging against his face. “Are you fucking sane, y/l/n?”

“Very much so, you’re twenty-one, grow the fuck up.” You roll your eyes as you type up yet another rude comment on his paper.

The two of you had been in a study room together for the entire day. Yes, the entire past sixteen hours the two of you have sat in this room together attempting to fuse this damn paper. So far it was not working.

Since the two of you had edited your works during the week, today was actually supposed to be a fusion day only. The second the two of you began reading over your essay, Todoroki looked at you, his eyebrow twitching.

He had gone on to complain that what you were writing was atrocious. That it was by far one of the worst things he'd have to read in a while. You, not wanting to be talked to like that about your hard work, fought back.

The two of you were now editing every single little word of each other's paper. Nothing passed your eyes as suddenly you both became literary geniuses. Grammar and spelling suddenly making sense to you as you destroyed Todoroki’s paper in your hands. No word went unhighlighted. Comments littered the sides of the paper commenting on truly trivial things. Things that weren’t needed to be said. Things that a psychology professor would not care about in the slightest.

There was nothing productive about your comments. With the ticking time falling through your fingers the two of you should be paying greater attention to what you were doing. But the anger, the uncontrollable rage for what was happening was too large, too grand to be ignored.

The two of you were obsessed with every new comment that was made. Your fingers scrolling to the new comment to yell and argue about how the other one was being childish. It was infuriating and you wanted to leave. Fuck Midnight’s random matching machine, that thing had to be broken if it landed on Todoroki.

“I don’t know why I didn’t fight Midnight on why you were my partner.” You growl as you highlight an entire block text of a quote and wrote in that it seemed fictitious and off-topic. “You’re the most immature person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“Oh please, I have a niece who’s in her terrible twos and behaves better than you do on a good day.” Todoroki jeers his eyes like ice as he glares at you.

“I’ve met a four-year-old who’s able to write more complete sentences than you!” You sass, your elbows on the study room table, your face leaning in towards his. “You either write run-on sentences or a three-word sentence. Did you ever learn about the subject and predicate of a sentence? I would be more than happy to teach you because it’s obvious you weren’t taught!”

“Honestly, it shocks me that you’re even a STEM major. You want to be what? A doctor? Oh please, you have to be actually smart and a team player. But you? I have never seen you once try to be apart of the team. If it’s not your way, it’s no one's way.”

“Aw, you do know things about me.” You coo, but your words are steely. Your nostrils flare as you lean away. “Don’t even fucking start on me with the team playing. I participate in groups, I fucking love group work. Just because I don’t enjoy doing these things with you doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it at all. You’re not the center of my world.”

I’d beg to differ.” Todoroki coldly smirks, his body shifting closer to yours, and you move in too. Your eyes flash down to his lips that are pulled into a disgustingly attractive smirk. His muscles tensing on his arms. “Tell me, y/l/n, what are the different things the body goes through when you’re attracted to someone. It seems like you don’t fucking know this.”

Your eyes narrow, what was this some fucking test? Of course, you knew! You spent an entire fucking month researching it. Your hand moves to wipe a rolling piece of sweat from your temple. When did it get so damn hot in this cold room?

“The main components of being attracted to someone is summed up in the following physiological states. When attracted to someone, eyes dilate. Bodies sweat more. Bodies become in sync, due to mirroring habits people have when they are high on endorphins. Dopamine levels rise as well as serotonin. Dopamine helps regulate movement, attention, learning, and emotional responses. It also enables us not only to see rewards but to take action to move toward them. Since dopamine contributes to feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as part of the reward system. It also plays a part in addiction. Serotonin in the brain is thought to regulate anxiety, happiness, and mood. The more you have the better your mood. It was also seen that the putamen and the insula light up on an MRI. Indicating that the studied person is experiencing feelings of romantic love, or attraction.” You snark this all while staring him in the eyes.

Your body as tensed as his.

Neither one of you moving.

Neither one of you allowing yourselves to breathe heavily.

“You don’t even fucking see it, do you?” Todoroki growls as he leans back.

You lean back as well, your arms folding. His arms fold.

“See what Einstein? That I fucking know what I’m doing despite what you think? Are you fucking kidding me Todoroki? I deserve to fucking be here even if you hate me! Would you for one moment stop being a complete asshole to me and fucking leave me alone? And people fucking wonder why I hate you,” you hiss leaning in.

Todoroki’s hands slam onto the table. You jump taken off guard due to the loud noise, and you feel your breath stop in your throat as he leans in dangerously close. His face is centimeters away from you, his eyes angry and yet convoluted with something else...

Your eyes widen as your jaw drops slightly, did you finally push him over the edge?

You watch as his own eyes widen slightly he chuckles. The sound is deep, running against your skin in a way that sends chills down your spine as his eyes trail your body.

“Your eyes are dilated right now,” Todoroki observes, his voice low and husky. “You're sweating just the slightest bit, don’t think I didn’t catch you wiping it away. Your body has been moving in sync with my own this entire fucking month. I’m sure your dopamine levels are soaring on account to your attention to me, is your heart racing because of me? Are you anxious? I think you are, which means you have a healthy amount of serotonin in your body. The putamen and the insula make the hate circuit more interesting. Both of these areas light up on an MRI when the person is experiencing feelings of romantic love. So, you tell me, y/l/n, do you actually hate me? Or are you attracted to me?”

Your eyes are wide, Todoroki’s soft yet heavy breathing hits your lips as you continue staring at him. The wide and cocky grin on his face is infuriating, yet stupidly hot. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, anger and fury pumping through your veins as you take in his words again. The knowing laughter that slips from his mouth only further incites your swinging emotions.

“That’s what I thought.” Todoroki determined as he moved to sit back down.

Now you were no idiot. But what you did next was fucking dumb.

Your fingers lashed out, fisting into the collar of his shirt and slammed your lips into a searing kiss against his own.

The windows had been drawn earlier on account of your noisy roommates and friends taking pictures of the two of you fighting. The door was also locked due to that fact, and you were planning on using that to your advantage.

Your lips pressed against his, hot and heavy movements as you pressed further into him. Uncaring, unconcerned about his reaction.

Todoroki groaned softly, his lips moving to keep up with yours. His fingers digging into your biceps as the two of you stood up, leaning over the table as your lips continued this passion-filled battle.

His lips are fervent against yours and your mind spins from having his mouth against yours. Where you really all this time just attracted to him but refused to admit it to yourself? Todoroki’s hands move from your biceps to searching the table, your eyes barely manage to open. They’re heavy with lust, laced with growing desire as your lips part. The books and laptops are taken off the table, leaving the table meant for four students empty and clear. As you come back up from placing your laptop down, Todoroki’s warm hands feel like fire against your heated skin. And you let him pull your face in for another impassioned kiss.

His lips are heavy against yours, pushing and pulling you in with every movement of his lips. He continues pulling you closer and soon enough you’re climbing on top of the table, pants leaving your mouth from the high position of the table as you crawl closer to the boy who was making your heart beat faster than any strenuous activity. As you move closer, his hand runs from your face to rest against your ass. His hands are strong against your ass, and he pulls you nearer so that you’re sitting on the edge of the table, his body between your open legs.

You’re gasping now, sharp breathing as you try to calm your nerves. This man set your mind on fire, and you were drowning in his lips. His mouth dissipating all the anger and hatred you held in mere seconds. Your mouth opens and your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, pleading for entry. Todoroki moves his hands from your ass, trailing down your legs to pull you closer to him, and his mouth opens granting you entry.

Tongues crash together in the middle. Dominance riding high on both of your parts, neither one of you wants to let the other into each other's mouth. But lord, is his tongue working magic against yours. Your body shuddering as your legs wrap against his waist, your crotch pushing forward to grind into his pelvis. His budge is obvious against your clothed core and both of your moans tumble into your mouths.

His hands trail under your shirt and you arch against his chest, and in your moment of serenity, his tongue is able to push into your mouth. You shudder in his hold, his tongue tracing around your mouth in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His tongue runs against your tongue, swirling around it before tracing the roof of your mouth. A moan expels from your mouth as his other hand slips under your shirt. Todoroki laughs, his voice falling on his tongue and you tremble softly.

What the fuck was wrong with you? Making out with Todoroki Shouto in the library study room? There must be something in the air.

Todoroki’s mouth left yours completely, his hot mouth trailing down your neck. His teeth nipping at your skin, his lips sucking against your skin. Your head tosses back in increasing pleasure as your hips press against his bulge again. His mouth stays on the same spot, his mouth sucking harshly against your skin, his teeth biting down sinfully against your skin.

Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him desperately closer to you. The friction not enough, these actions not strong enough for you. “Don’t be a pussy about fucking me.” You can’t keep yourself from stating as Todoroki pulls away from your neck. Your skin throbs from the hickey that has for sure formed.

“Don’t worry,” Todoroki smirks as he lifts your shirt over your head, “I won’t.”

You suck in a sharp breath of air as the cold air hits your exposed body. You feel dirty for wanting to fuck Todoroki. You feel disgusting and delirious for wanting him to claim you right in an often-used library study room. You don’t have time to think anymore as his lips come back to claim your lips. This time, you’re not going to give in as your teeth sink into his bruised lower lip.

The harsh motion of your teeth sinking into his plump and used lips makes him moan. The sound is electrifying to your ears. Your tongue slides back out to soothe over his throbbing lip. Your grin spreading across your face as Todoroki picks you up from the table. Your body shudders as your aroused sex brushes up against his hard cock. His hips thrusting up against your own and you cry out in his mouth. Your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Todoroki’s mouth trails down your chin. His teeth brushing against your jaw causing your hips to roll out against him.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you bring your mouth against his neck. Your mouth trails peppering kisses against his strained neck, and your hips grind down against his bulge. “Please take your shitty shirt off, Todoroki.” Your groan as your fingers drag against his muscular back. The muscles delicious against your skin, yet you feel denied, you feel teased at the fact you can feel him better.

Todoroki moans as your heavy and hot breathing makes his mind reel against the cold saliva on his neck. “Call me Shouto, y/n, I think we’re past this last name business.” He growls. The simple use of your name sends a heavy shiver down your spine. You never thought you’d hear him call you y/n and Shouto felt like a stranger on your tongue, but you feel coy as you nod.

You push away, your hair whipping over your shoulder as you stare at his blue and gray eyes. You watch his pupils that are blown wide stare into you as you lean in close. The sweat building slowly on his temple as your mouth pressed against his ear softly.

“Of course, Shouto,” you accentuate his name and he groans.

His hands grip tighter against you as his lips come back against yours.

Your hands reach down for the hem of his shirt and you waste no time in tearing it up over his head. His toned body now exposed for your desiring eyes as you breathe shakily. Maybe you were always attracted to him.

You look at him and a proud blush spreads across your face as he stares at your breasts. You were not at all wearing a cute set, they were simple, black and not revealing. But the way Shouto was looking at you. The way his finger trailed up to your covered bra made you believe that you were wearing the best lingerie set in existence. “Do you like this set?” You tease, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip as you look into his eyes under your eyelashes.

“I think I’ve been the world's biggest idiot for denying you for so long.” Shouto groans as his face pushes forward to kiss your breasts. You feel like you’re melting in his arms as his lips ravish your tender breasts.

“Who says -- fuck -- who says I want you?” You gasp as his mouth continues trailing sweet and hot kisses against your skin. “I’m a wanted woman, you know.”

“Like hell, I’m letting you go now,” Shouto grunts his large hands enveloping your breasts as he gropes them. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to be mine.”

You don’t have the chance to respond back as Shouto’s right-hand moves behind your back and removes your bra with one hand. The smooth action somehow turning you further on. The bra is thrown off your body and your breasts bounce as they’re not entirely exposed. You don’t know how to feel bashful or to feel confident in the way that Shouto stares at your exposed chest. His eyes locked on your breasts, his lips dragging against his teeth as he looks back up at you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shouto groans as his mouth slips your nipple into his mouth. You cry out as your hips roll against his crotch again, and you feel him walking forward.

You whine as Shouto sets your back onto the cold surface of the library table. Your pants heighten as he slips off your sweatpants. The cold air hitting your hot legs making you shudder at the temperature difference.

His fingers roll your free nipple between his fingers. The sensations on your nipples overwhelming as your hips thrash against his. Moans and gasps pour out of your mouth as he continues ravishing your breasts. His teeth nipping and pulling on the sensitive skin. Your head throws back as he pulls away, a resonating pop filling your ears as he lets go of your nipple. Harsh heaves leave your mouth as you look down, your breasts shine with his saliva and you moan again.

“I’m going to fucking eat you out, and you’re going to watch me the entire fucking time,” Shouto commands you, his fingers hooking around your panties. “Do you understand?”

Breathlessly you nod your head. Your eyes locking onto his bi-colored ones as your panties join the rest of your clothes on the floor. Shouto chuckles as his finger drags against your soaked slit, “You’re so fucking wet.” Shouto remarks and your body shudders against his actions. Your eyes flutter closed before you force them back open to peer down at Shouto, “Good girl.” He praises and you feel your pussy throbs at those two words.

Shouto presses a hand against your waist and you watch as he sinks two fingers into your blazing heat. You cry out in pleasure as his heated fingers plunge in and out of you. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves onto his proud form. Your hand slaps across your mouth as his fingers curl within you. Their curvature adding even more stimulating pleasure within your body. Melodious moans are now muffled underneath your hands and Shouto sneers at that.

“Don’t hide what I’m making you feel, y/n.” Shouto snaps. His fingers increasing in their roughness as they pound against your soaked pussy. “Don’t you want the world to know that I’m the one making you feel this way?”

Your hand trembles as you move it away from your mouth, but your teeth subconsciously clamp down onto your bottom lip. You’re embarrassed at being caught in the library. Even though you were attracted to Shouto, you didn’t want to be found in this state.

On a public table, legs wide open, and Shouto’s fingers deep into your pussy.

Shouto, unsatisfied with your quiet affirmations of his actions, slips another finger into your aching pussy. A silent shriek leaves your mouth as you push up off the table. The additional width of his thrusting fingers overwhelming.

“Oh,” Shouto laughs smugly, his smile stretching wide across his face. “Did you like that?”

“Yes, you blind fucking idiot!” You thrash against his fingers, your head falling back in your distracting pleasure. The sensations are numbing your mind. Your rationale slipping away as his fingernails drag against your inner walls. Your cunt feels like it’s pulsating faster than your heart as he continues going.

“Aren’t you just a fucking sweetheart.” Shouto purrs and his hand reaches out to lock in your hair. Your head is roughly brought back up, and a low groan of pain rumbles in your throat as you stare at his slightly furious eyes. “Didn’t I say to fucking look at me?”

Your chest heaves in embarrassment and wounded pride. Like hell, you were being dominated by him.

Before you could try wrestling him for dominance, his mouth lowers towards your dripping cunt. His tongue takes a languid and slow lick. His tongue slipping between your slit and you fall back onto the table. Your eyes fluttering in their battle to stay open. Your eyes still locking onto his victorious face.

Your legs tremble as he thrusts his tongue within your drenched walls. His tongue swirling in circles and thrusting further in. His fingers still thrusting into you as you fall apart on the table. On one lick, one measly irresistibly mind-numbing lick, your legs come crashing against his head. Shouto’s free hand moves to grip onto your trembling thighs. His tongue coaxing your orgasm closer to the edge.

“S-Shouto!” You curse, your hips moving desperately against his mouth. Your hips were unforgiving against his merciless tongue.

Your eyes struggle to remain locked on his eyes, your body twitching with the building pleasure. The electricity igniting in your flesh and bloodstream. You can hear the sounds of your squelching pussy against his moving fingers, and your jaw drops. You’re under his absolute control and you're no longer able to hold back anymore as your orgasm is right on the edge, but then he pulls away. His fingers and tongue disappearing from within you. Causing you to whimper in pain, in lust, and in denied orgasm.

“Suck yourself off my fingers.” Shouto pants as his arousal covered fingers press against your mouth. You take his fingers without a second thought. Your teeth scraping softly against his fingers as you suck your juices off of him. Your eyes remain on his as your tongue slips between each finger. You suck onto his fingers as he pulls away and Shouto growls as he pulls his hand away from you.

“Get up.” Shouto snaps, his hands moving to remove the belt around his waist, and you are quick to slide off the table. Your knees buckling under your weight as Shouto removes his pants. You watch in an almost lusting horror as his cock springs out from under his underwear. He was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever seen and your throat feels dry as he gasps. His dick must be hypersensitive already.

Steeling yourself over, you drop to your knees, uncaring that he wasn’t quite ready as Shouto struggles to step out of his pants.

As soon as his feet are free, your hands immediately grab his length. His girth wide enough you struggled to hold it with one hand. You smirked at the fact that he had two protruding veins on both sides of his cock, how typical for this half and half genetic phenonium.

“Y-Y/n…” Shouto stutters as your hand fists up and down his length in pretense. Your eyes snapping up to meet his lust covered ones.

“Now,” You sigh as your thumb rolls over the pre-cum that slips from the tip of his head. “I better not catch you not looking at me, understood?”

Shouto licks his lips, his eyebrow quirking. “I don’t take orders from you.”

You smile softly, but there’s a strong sadistic tone to it as your hands twist his skin. Shouto curses as he nods, “Fine!”

“Good boy," you tease as your mouth opens and you let him penetrate it. His girth so wide you had to open wider than you were used to. You gasp as you push him further down your throat. Your eyes flashing up to see Shouto struggling to keep his head down and eyes wide. Good god, you hope you were wet enough to take him in without lube.

Your mouth sinks down as far as you can go while not straining yourself. Your fingers trailing up and down his toned thighs as you move your head up and down his length. You’re now in a smooth rhythm, sucking his cock with enough vigor to make Shouto curse your name.

Your movements signal to Shouto that he can move as well. Shouto groans and his hips move forward. You relax against his rocking hips, you're focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your throat. Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. His hand pressing against the back of your throat, and you gag softly against his length.

Your eyes look back up to see Shouto’s eyes closed. Moans and pants spilling out with every thrust, and your cheeks hollow out. Creating a vacuum sensation against his length.

“Fucking shit!” Shouto snaps. His hands tangling within your locks as he overtakes your dominance. Shouto then begins fucking your throat without hesitation. “Taking my cock like the dirty slut you are, of course, you would be good at this,” he hisses as his cock only goes further down your throat.

You struggle to breathe with his thrusting. His snapping hips overwhelming you with their speed and depth. He’s barbarous against your throat. Uncaring about the burning sensation erupting through your airway as he continues at his strength and speed. Your tongue swirls around his thrusting cock. Trailing against his veins as his hips stutter.

You moan against his length. The action allowing you to gain more air and sending a snarl from Shouto’s mouth as his pace increases.

His hips abuse your throat, and you’re delighted in the fact that you’re keeping up. The soft gags that occasionally slip from your mouth stirring him on. The hum on your throat allowing him to further his strength and speed as your actions overwhelm him. He’s sinful yet heavenly in your mouth and you want him in your dripping cunt. Your thighs shaking with the mere thought of him having his way with you.

He pulls his length away from your mouth. Your saliva stringing between your mouth and his still erect cock. You cough as you try taking in the air again, the lack of oxygen had been ignored as your pleasure was so high.

However, you don’t have the time to adjust to your new air as Shouto pulls you up from the floor. His mouth once again attacking yours as you find your back pressed against the table. His lips are intoxicating, and you can still taste yourself in his mouth. You moan as he lifts you up on the table again.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” Shouto grunts as his mouth trails down your neck and you shudder. How you craved a man you were ready to beat the shit out of earlier was beyond you. Maybe attraction and hatred ran on a fine line.

“I know I am,” you gasp as he spreads your legs, the tip of his cock stroking your soaked folds.

“I’ll get you to say it when my cock is in you,” Shouto chuckles and you moan at the feeling of the tip of his head sinking into your trembling cunt. “Are you ready?”

Your head nods nevertheless, and you still as he chuckles.

“Say it.”

“Shouto--”

“I want to hear you say it," he interrupts, and you stare into his bi-colored eyes and feel as if you’re drowning in his them. They’re desperate, needy, and full of want. It’s enough to steal your breath away as you nod again.

“Please fuck me.” You whisper, and Shouto smiles.

A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock all the way into your awaiting cunt without hesitation. His girth stretches you out in an unimaginable way. Your walls fluttering as they attempt to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking huge!” You cry as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward. His own breathing a quiet hiss as your walls clench around him.

“I bet I’m the biggest you’ve e-ever had.” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is affected by your pulsating walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

You whimper as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you wiggle your hips against him, “N-Now fuck me right. Don’t fucking make me regret giving in.” You gasp as his eyes lock on yours.

There’s something unsaid flowing between the two of you. An agreement, a secret being whispered through your eyes. Three years of frustration and denied attraction. Three years of forced hatred disappearing between your bodies.

Shouto smiles, small and sweet, yet terribly contrasting as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, and you can only watch with fluttering eyes as he begins ramming into you. Your hips move in time with his. Both of you desperate under your denied orgasm and this heightened state of pleasure. Shouto’s hands grip your waist. His grip leaving bruised marks as he slams your body faster against his huge cock. He's stretching you out deliciously. His hands drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this tiny different position stretches you out in a mind-numbing way.

His hips crashing into yours is transcending, and your cries only fuel Shouto on. Your body feels as if it is on fire as he drags a single leg up onto his shoulder. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the table as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You sputter as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his moving cock, slowing him down slightly, before he grunts and increases his speed and strength.

Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.

Again and again.

More and more.

His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and comes down hard against your g-spot.

“SHOUTO!!!” You scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His name a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.

You shoot up off the table, your screams sounding in his ear as you wrap your arms around him. Despite the fact that your leg was on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allowing Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again, your screams drowning out as his mouth covered yours. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.

“I needa -- fuck yes, baby do that again -- I needa come!” You squeak as your body rocks against his own.

“Come for me, baby.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”

The pleasure in your belly is overwhelming, it's building up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.

Your orgasm crashes through you, your vision turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm.

His hips continue slamming into you, they’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow limp in his arms, although your hips still continue to roll against his. His breathing is short and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.

“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed expelling within you.

His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses you back onto the table his arm lifting your second leg over his shoulder. The twin bulging veins on his cock rubbing a fire against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto, unable to keep a controlled mind on his shoulder, loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time. A heavy load shooting into your throbbing cunt.

Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.

You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he steps back. Your hands pressed against the table as you pant, desperate to find your air again. A whimper on your tongue as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.

“You were amazing.” Shouto chuckles as he leans down next to you.

You moan as you look over at him.

“I can’t believe I let you fuck me in the library without you even buying me dinner…”

“...would you let me buy you dinner one day?”

Your eyes blink as you stare at your rival in front of you. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you nod.

“I’d love to…”

You moan softly as his lips press against yours.

You lose yourself in his lips until the reason why you’re in this library to begin with flashes across your mind.

“SHOUTO THE PAPER!”

Bonus!

Everyone stared as you held onto Shouto’s hand as you walked into your psychology class. Everyone was silent as the two of you sat next to each other in the same row you two had claimed as your own.

No one dared to speak as you kept your head down and Shouto, unconcerned about others' opinions, placed his arm around your shoulder.

You’re pretty sure you heard people choking on their air at that fact.

Midnight thankfully strolls in, her hands full of her things as she’s ready to get these presentations over with.

“Thank you to all of you who turned in your papers on time! We only had one pair not do that!” Midnight chirped as she stared at you and Shouto.

There was a spike of restless energy in the room as they all put together quickly that it was top students Todoroki Shouto and you.

“Care to explain to us why it was late, and why you two are suddenly… buddy-buddy?” Midnight grins, her cheeks blushing as she finally was able to bring the two of you together, not that you knew anyways.

Shouto stood up, and your heart beat in your chest as you had no idea what he was going to say.

“We fucked.”

And screams sounded throughout the classroom.

[swordladywritesthings]

Choice Words

Pairing: Dreamnotfound (ooh thats new)

Words: 1972

TWs: miscommunication, a bit of anxiety. Let me know if there’s one I should list!

AN: So this is actually a school assignment, but since my teacher thought it was good and I still like it, it’s goin here. I know I don’t usually post MCYT content, but I’m hoping to change that soon! Don’t worry, Sanders Sides will probably stay my main priority for a while. (Also yes I’m still supposed to be on hiatus I know I’m a bad Christian shhhhh /j) Enjoy! EDIT! This is now available on AO3 here! for your viewing pleasure

George felt his head bounce against the school bus’ window as it bumped and sputtered its way down the road. He closed his eyes, hoping to catch up on some of the sleep that he had missed out on the night before, and now was sorely missing. This didn’t last long, however, because the bus screeched to a stop and the sounds of other teens climbing out filled his ears. George just sighed and was about to close his eyes again when he felt a pair of strong shoulders crash into his.

   He pulled his head away from the window to meet his best friend’s lively green eyes. “Dream, I’m trying to relax,” he huffed, doing his best to smother the smile he felt creeping onto his face. “Do you mind?”

   “Nah, I don’t mind at all,” Dream responded with a cheeky grin, making George roll his eyes. He was just about to put his earbuds in when Dream grabbed his hand, stopping the movement. 

   “Uh, actually,” Dream said, looking down at where his and George’s hands met, “I had something to ask you.”

   “Mhm?” George just continued to scroll through his phone, seemingly not minding the contact.

   Dream suddenly found himself supremely more nervous than he had been a few moments ago. He took a steadying breath and just decided to spit it out.

   “There’s a new movie I wanna see coming out in theaters tonight, and I was wondering if you’d wanna come with me?”

   At this George turned his attention from Twitter to focus on Dream’s face. After a momentary pause, he smiled. “That sounds like fun! I’ve got homework to do, but you could pick me up later tonight?”

   Dream let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Yeah, totally. Around eight?”

   “Perfect, it’s a date then!”

   As George went back to looking at his phone, the bus came to Dream’s stop. He grabbed his backpack and gave his friend a goodbye smile, then made his way off the bus and up his driveway. When he was sure that it had turned the next corner down the street, Dream did a little jump and let out a whoop. He was so sure that George would turn him down that now that he hadn't, Dream wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. After a moment of stimming, which mostly just meant standing in the driveway clicking his tongue and shaking his hands up and down, he had regained his composure enough to be able to enter his house without immediately being teased by his sister. 

   At 7:30 that evening, Dream was standing in front of his full-length mirror and evaluating the outfit he had chosen. It was nothing fancy, just a pair of jeans and a lime button-up shirt, but that was exactly the issue. Was it too formal? Or not formal enough? This was his first date with George after all, he didn’t want to disappoint. 

   It was in the middle of this scrutiny that his sister spoke up, leaning against the doorframe casually. “You look fine, idiot,” Drista said with a teasing grin. “You know he’s gonna like you no matter what you dress like, don’t stress about it.”

   “But what if I overdress? Or underdress? What do people even wear to movie dates anyway?”

   Drista shrugged. “I dunno, I’ve never been on one. Probably what you’d wear for a usual date,”

   “Thank you for the help, dear sister,” Dream said sarcastically, turning his head to give her a deadpan expression. She stuck her tongue out at him, so of course he had to stick his tongue out at her.

   Their teasing match was interrupted, however, by their mother calling up the stairs. “Clay, George is going to be expecting you! Shake a leg!”

   “I’m going!” Dream hollered back, taking one more moment to fuss with his hair. Drista sighed and walked over, fixing it for him. 

   “You’ll be fine, Clay. You’ve known him for, like, ever, and just because you’re going on a date doesn’t mean that either of you are any different than you were this morning.”

   Dream nodded, and Drista gave his arm an affectionate whack. “Now get out of my house, you nerd.”

   “I’m still older than you!” He protested as he grabbed his keys and walked out the front door.

   The drive to George’s house was a short one, and soon enough he was knocking on the front door of a small ranch-style house that served as the Found household. He took a step back from the door when he heard muffled barks and scrabbling of nails on the other side. George cracked the door open, pulling three very excited dogs away from where they were trying to push out the door and run into the front yard. He smiled a bit sheepishly at Dream, then turned his head to call over his shoulder. “Mum! I’m leaving!” After a faint response had been hollered back, he shoved his way out past the dogs and onto the front porch.

   George huffed, brushing his sweater free from the dog hair that clung to it. “Sorry about that, the dogs just get excited when someone comes to the door.”

   “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to your dogs by now,” Dream chuckled, bumping his shoulder against George’s. “You look nice.”

   “Thanks,” George fidgeted with the hem of the blue sweater he was wearing, kneading it between his fingertips. The outfit wasn’t really anything special, but it was one of Dream’s favorites. The color made the brown of George’s eyes richer, and it looked especially good paired with the light pink blush that was currently painted across his face. 

      Soon enough the two of them were sitting in the plush red chairs of the theater, watching previews and waiting for the movie to start. It was a pretty small showing, there were only two other couples in the entire room, so Dream and George were free to spread out. George had his legs slung over the armrest, leaning his back against Dream’s shoulder, occasionally tipping his head back to give him an upside-down grin. In a way that confused George to no end, Dream had managed to fold his long legs underneath him so he was sitting cross-legged on the chair. He had one arm hooked over the back of the seat, not quite around George but close enough to feel the warmth coming from him.

   The background chatter of the theater quieted to a hush as the lights slowly faded and the beginning of the movie started to play on the screen. George flipped around in his chair to sit normally and shuffled closer to Dream’s side in excitement, causing butterflies to erupt within the taller boy’s chest. He casually dropped his arm to rest around George’s shoulders, then settled back to watch as the main character dashed onto the screen.

      The movie’s plot climax was fast approaching, and George wasn’t handling it very well. He was curled into Dream’s side as the scene around the main character exploded, and he practically shoved his face into Dream’s shoulder with an anxious squeak when the character onscreen only narrowly avoided the hunters chasing him. Dream couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at George’s reactions, earning him a firm whack to the bicep.

   “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a very intense moment!” He mumbled, though the effect of his statement was diminished slightly by the fact that he was still hiding his face in the lime green fabric of Dream’s shirt. 

   “Aww, don’t worry Gogy, I’ll protect you,” Dream cooed teasingly, patting his head fondly. With a quick glare towards him, George turned back to look at the screen, though he didn’t move from where he was basically plastered to Dream’s side. Maybe if he had looked closer, he would’ve seen the smitten looks that Dream couldn’t resist giving him every couple of minutes. Or maybe he would’ve caught the way that Dream stiffened momentarily when he grabbed George’s hand, caught up in the moment. Or the relief that flooded over him when George just squeezed it without a second thought.

   The two of them got so caught up in the movie that it took both of them by surprise when the lights came back on and the credits started rolling. George pulled away from Dream’s hold to stand up, which made him pout for a moment, but returned to stand at his side when he had gathered his things. Together they walked out into the parking lot, where George talked animatedly about the characters of the movie while Dream watched in amusement. The drive back to George’s house was filled with much of the same, George sharing his thoughts on the plot and characters while Dream listened happily, throwing in his own opinions here and there.

   Dream did his best to swallow his nerves as he walked George up to his front porch, catching his elbow when he went to open the door.

   “I had a really nice time tonight, George,” He smiled at his best friend, hoping he sounded a lot calmer than he felt.

   “So did I! Thanks for inviting me. We should do this again sometime,” George chirped.

   “You think so?”

   “Definitely!”

   “In that case,” Dream said, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his courage. “Would it be alright if I kissed you goodnight?”

   This seemed to take George off-guard, taking a small step back and giving him a baffled look. “What? Why?”

   “It’s okay if not!” Dream rushed to backtrack, bringing one of his hands up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just figured that’s what people usually do after a date goes well.”

   So many emotions flickered across George’s face in a matter of moments. Disbelief, realization, guilt, eventually landing on a mix of confusion and sadness. “Clay,” He started softly. “When you asked me to come with you tonight, did you mean it romantically?”

   A look of horror and embarrassment struck Dream’s features. “Did you think I meant it platonically?”

   George nodded silently, and Dream buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve made it more clear. Jesus Christ, I’m such an idiot.”

   “Hey, hey, don’t talk about yourself like that!” George said sternly, drawing Dream’s gaze from his palms to his blushing face. “Maybe there was a communication issue, and maybe neither of us completely understood the point of tonight, but that does not make you an idiot,” his voice softened as he watched Dream’s face flush. 

   “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Dream mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets self-consciously. “I should probably get going,” he went to turn away but felt a hand reach out and grab his forearm before he could. 

   “Clay, I…” George hesitated, trying to find the right way to say what he wanted to say. “I did really enjoy myself tonight, and I’m sure that I would’ve acted differently if I had known how you felt about me,” He quirked his lips up into a smile. “Can we try this again? Do it right next time?”

   Dream’s eyes shone with cautious excitement. “Really? You wanna go on an actual real date with me?”

   George nodded, and Dream smiled excitedly. “Okay, let’s do that.”

   George turned to look at his front door, then back at Dream. “I gotta go, it’s late. Text me when you get home, okay?”

   Dream nodded, then reached out to gently squeeze one of George’s hands. “Yeah, absolutely. Good night, George.”

   George hesitated for a split second, then rose onto his tiptoes to press a quick kiss against Dream’s cheek. “G’night, Dream,” he murmured, then disappeared inside his house, leaving Dream on the porch in stunned but ecstatic silence.

TAGLIST

General: @definitely-a-living-human @my-friends-art-and-writing @arodynamic-enby @ari-the-writer-enby @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @asexualtrashcan @the17thmeatball @inku-snas-art @fandoms-are-my-world

MCYT: @gabnapp @justalittlecorrupted

[fever-dreamer97]

Let’s Try This Again

Summary: "There's no way it's her." Bakugou kept repeating in his head as he stared at the girl in the front of the class. His heartbeats gain speed in his ears as the color drained from his face. But it was her. It was the childhood friend he grew up bullying and tormenting until they were nine before she disappeared: Midoriya Izumi. Now, she is his new classmate in their second year of high school at UA. It's official: the universe really does hate him.

Fem!Izuku/Bakugou No Quirk AU

Chapter 1: Seven Years Ago...

————————————————————————

"Huh? What do we have here?" A blonde boy chuckled with smug pride. A group of other boys surrounds behind him, laughing along as they stare ahead at their target.

Their target: a small, pale girl with untamable green curls and freckles that decorate her face like the stars in the galaxy. She was thin and looks like she couldn't hurt a fly. She wore her class standard uniform, and on her back was an All-Might themed backpack. The pack weighed on her shoulders as it was a bit heavier than it usually was on most days.

At the boy's booming voice, she immediately freezes, not sure how to continue on her way. She clutches at the pack's straps before she eventually decides to turn slowly toward the boy and his lackeys. Her large emerald eyes are full of fear and worry at what's to come, and her frail body started to tremble.

"K-Kacchan..." She offers as a reply in her delicate voice.

"Oi, Deku. It's always fun to see you. But also, it pisses me off when you have to make me find you around this dump."

Katsuki stomps toward the trembling girl with a dark smirk before he smacks a hand beside her face. She lets out a squeal in fear at the sound and brings her small hands in front of her face.

"You weren't gonna leave without seeing me today, were you?" he mocks into her face, his smirk growing as she shields herself.

Deku doesn't say anything but keeps her gaze on the floor between his feet.

"Answer me, Deku," he snapped harshly.

She jerks before she lets out a meek, "No, Kacchan."

"That's what I thought. Because, how else would you be able to get the homework packet that I received today? I got better things to do, so you can just do it for me." He takes out the said packet from his bag and shoves it into Deku's shielding hands. She stumbles from the impact, and the homework packet falls to the floor at her feet before she could catch it.

A series of echoing laughter rings out from the group of boys at the girl's clumsiness as Katsuki sneers in annoyance. "Great, now it's gonna have dirt on it when I turn it in!" He snaps loudly.

Deku flinches at the voice before she bends down and picks up the packet. Kacchan lets out a click of his tongue before he shoves Deku into the wall.

"I will say the one good thing about you, Deku, is that you can be smart. Obviously not as much as me, but I'm not in the mood to do extra work today. So, you better make sure every answer is right. For every wrong answer, you'll see what will happen." He spat out in her face.

Deku continues to tremble as she keeps her gaze on the floor. She opens her mouth but then quickly shuts it. Katsuki brings back his smirk before he backs away from her and walks over to his lackeys.

"Thanks De-"

"I-I can't do it for you..."

The group of boys and Katsuki freeze at the reply from the girl before his rage kicks in. He slowly turns back to her. "...What did you just say, Deku?" He questions with a cold and mocking voice.

Deku still refused to look at him and bites her bottom lip in fear. "I-I c-can't do the p-packet for you...I-I won't b-be in s-school tomorrow..."

Katsuki huffed at the weak excuse. "Huh? Then you can drop it off at my house in the morning before I leave for school."

Deku's eyes start to water but she kept her ground. "I-I...I w-won't be able to, Kacchan...I'm s-sorry..." She gives him a way to ease the tension. This doesn't work, however. It makes the rage in him burn more.

"And why can't you, huh?!" He races toward her, grabs the collar of her shirt, and yells in her face. Deku finally looks up in his eyes with terror as his death glare burns into her.

"I-I j-just c-can't..." She says meekly.

Katsuki and her start a staring match: one pair of eyes filled with panic and the other filled with malice. Eventually, after a good minute, Katsuki sneers and shoves Deku back into the wall again, this time with a lot more force.

Deku whimpers in pain as her head hit the wall and rubs at the sore spot. The packet also was snatched out of her hands. Her shock momentarily erases her pain before she looked back up at Katsuki.

"Damn hindrance. I don't have time to argue with someone like you," he spat before he whips around and stomps back at the lackeys.

Deku lets out a sigh, thinking the situation was over. But his voice booms out again. "At least we all get a day-off from the mumbling freak!" Deku flinches again at the cold voice.

The lackeys laugh and agreed with the statement. Katsuki darkly smiles at the girl before he lets out his final statement to her.

"Maybe you should do all of us a favor and make it permanent. Just head on up to the roof and take that one-step shortcut. It would help all of us if you just didn't exist!" He laughs out with malice.

The temperature of the room drops tremendously at his statement, even his lackeys freeze up.

Deku's face morphs into a look of disbelief and her ears ring with what she just been told.

Katsuki turns back and stomps past his lackeys. His gut screams something at him, but he ignores how twisted his insides suddenly feel now.

Deku snaps out of her gaze and watches as the lackeys hesitantly follow their leader. One of them looks back at her briefly with a slight look of pity and sympathy before he races up to the group.

Katsuki continues his march of victory before he imagines that the next words that come out of the girl's mouth were "Goodbye...Katsuki..."

—————————————————————————

Bakugo jolts awake as his phone alarm blares in his ear. His hand smacks down on the snooze button before he rubs at his eyes.

Damn it, he thought back to that moment again. Annoyance filled his being before he pushes himself up into a sitting position on his bed. He glares at his sheets when he thinks back to that final moment he had with Izumi. Why does he keep thinking of that damn moment? It's been seven years for fuck's sake.

His annoyance is interrupted at the sound of his phone pinging with a new message, and he snatches the phone off his nightstand table. He opens it up to see a message from his best friend, Kirishima Eijirou.

Shitty Hair: Hey bro! me & the squad want to hit up the coffee shop b4 school starts! come with us!

He lets out a snort before replying.

Fine. But you're paying for me.

Shitty Hair: EH?? WHYYYY

Payment for that hellish study session over the weekend, asshole.

Shitty Hair: Fine, okay bro...Thanks for that again btw man!!

Katsuki clicks his tongue before dragging himself out of bed to get ready. Over the years, Katsuki has grown into an extremely handsome and fit young man. His body was now hard with muscles from his constant playing in sports, workouts, and hiking. That was one of the things that he and Kirishima bonded over was muscle training and sparring. When he and Kirishima get at it, they start competitions of who can lift the most and how long can they lift before the other gets tired.

He does his usual morning stretches before he starts to put on his UA school uniform: a white-collared, short-sleeved shirt with gold buttons, dark navy pants, and a gray, navy-striped jacket with gold buttons. Only the most high-end uniforms for one of the best schools in the nation. Of course, Katsuki was more than worthy to wear it.

There was also the school-issued tie that he stuffed carelessly into his pocket because he refused to wear something so fucking suffocating. But sometimes, he would get called out in the halls by some anal rule-pushing teacher. Other times, it would be that stick-in-the-ass, four-eyed class president.

After a quick brushing of his teeth, combing his hair, and rubbing on some deodorant, he was out of his bedroom with his backpack in hand. He stomps down the stairs to the kitchen where his parents were already up and about.

His dad, Masaru, sat at the breakfast table with his newspaper in hand and a cup of coffee at his side. His mom, Mitsuki, hovered over the stove with a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. Katsuki could smell the scrambled eggs as soon as he entered the room.

"Good morning, Katsuki." Masaru chimed before taking a sip of his coffee. "Morning brat!" Mitsuki chirped out as well.

Katsuki clicked his tongue at her greeting. "I'm not a brat, you old hag!" He shouted as he went to the key bowl where his wallet laid. A sharp thud hit the back of his head and he rubbed it to ease the pain.

"DON'T CALL ME A OLD HAG, YOU DAMN BRAT!" She roared at him.

Katsuki bit his tongue to snap back at the look of rage in his mother's eyes. He wasn't scared, nope. He just didn't want to waste more of his time to get going to see the gang. That's it.

"Now, now. Don't be hasty." His dad tries to offer as a way to ease the moment. Mitsuki huffs and turns back to her frying pan before Masaru looks back at his son. "Are you already heading off to school, son?"

"No, some friends wanted to meet before-hand to get coffee."

"Oh, good! Say hi to Eiji-kun for us!" His mother chimes in.

Katsuki snorts. Figures, she sees Shitty Hair as the son she wished she had. Katsuki just grunts before he opens the front door. Before he could walk out, he hears from his father, "Goodbye, Katsuki!"

He slams it behind in his wake and walks down his sidewalk before he stops at the gate.

Goodbye...Katsuki.

The statement hangs in his mind as it has been for the past seven years and he swallows at the uncomfortable feeling of regret and sorrow.

Seven years. Seven years since he told his childhood friend to go kill herself. Seven years since she magically fell off the face of the earth and to this day, he still doesn't know what the hell happened to her.

Katsuki just shook his head in annoyance before letting out his signature click of the tongue and a sneer.

What's the point of thinking about this now? It's in the past. He just continues his way out of the gate and down the sidewalk towards his destination.

But the moment still lingers in the back of his mind.

[azucanela]

DIVINE INTERVENTION [PT 3] OIKAWA TOORU

DIVINE INTERVENTION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Everything is perfectly fine. Aside from the fact that Iwaizumi cannot know by any means at all. Ever. Oikawa isn’t looking to die. 

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: unedited, arguing, 

A/N: i know exactly where i want this story to go but i have no idea how im going to get there. anywho, enjoy some of this 

RULE #1

The rules were simple. And if Y/N was honest, their establishment... made sense. In fact, it had been one of few things Oikawa had done that was actually intelligent— though this excluded volleyball; even if Y/N was annoyed by his antics at times and considered him a fool, his skill in the game was practically unparalleled. And for that, she respected him

Not that she would ever admit it, of course.

The whole purpose was to set boundaries for this little thing they agreed to do— because yes, Y/N had managed to convince Oikawa to go along with her plan. These boundaries would ensure nobody was uncomfortable with the arrangement and hopefully preserve Y/N and Oikawa’s friendship. They’d both seen this trope in an endless number of romantic comedies, and decided that they would be the exception, especially since they were just movies, right? Right.

If Y/N was honest though, she had no idea how she convinced Oikawa to agree to this. But, she’d managed it. However, their little agreement had come with... a few other issues that had to be handled, especially if things were to go as planned. Said plan being to fake the end of their equally fake relationship in one of the coming months and hope nobody ever found out about it. Unless Y/N decided that a little more... divine intervention was called for of course. 

After all, that’s how they got into this mess. And she sincerely doubted the break up would keep away his psychotic fans. Y/N was fairly sure there would be a few home wreckers as well; people trying to ruin their (fake, something Y/N reminded herself of once more) relationship. And those who wouldn’t wait even a week before trying to make passes at Oikawa when they did break up.

So, maybe Y/N would search for ways to extend the fake dating, but only for Oikawa’s sake. Until they found... a more permanent solution.

Right.

Regardless, that wasn’t the only issue they had. This very plan of theirs is how they ended up avoiding Iwaizumi Hajime like the plague.

Seeing as he was both their best friends, there were a few problems here. The first being the simple fact that no matter how hard Oikawa tried— Iwaizumi Hajime had always been capable of reading him like an open book. It was funny, really. Someone so talented in manipulations meets someone who can see past all that, the only other person he’d encountered with such abilities happened to be the one he’d been handling this with. Y/N. 

Her problem was similar. She and Iwaizumi had always been close, meaning he would know. If they slipped up just once, then it would be abundantly clear that they were in fact, not dating. 

It had been one of few rules that they both had agreed on almost instantaneously. Though Y/N found herself curious as to why Oikawa had been so complacent with it, seeing as Iwaizumi was his best friend, she’d been fairly desperate in the moment to maintain her reputation. That and the fact that Iwaizumi likely would’ve bullied her rather relentlessly, and if he did know, he’d chew them both out for being stupid.

Oikawa’s reasoning was similar. Kind of. He had a decent idea of what awaited him if he told Iwaizumi. One thing being a fist to the face, the second was a long conversation that followed said violence. 

Which is how their little fake dating operation became a hide-everything-from-Iwaizumi operation.

“What do we do?”

Y/N looked to him incredulously, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly as she struggled for words, “how am I supposed to know?” She exclaims, still seated in his driveway. Soon, Iwaizumi would walk past to find that Y/N had already arrived and then they’d have to start their walk to school.

This would be more difficult than anticipated.

“I don’t know Y/N, maybe because this is your fault!” Comes Oikawa’s response, hand threading through his hair. “You have the story down right?”

Y/N raises a brow at him, they’d discussed a few possible stories as to how they’d begun dating in secret. Most of the ones that Oikawa had pitched ended up rather... cliché. “You are not making me tell Iwaizumi that Hallmark bull—”

“Well you didn’t offer a better story, did you?” He snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “

Y/N offers him a tight lipped smile, “because I happen to excel at improv.”

Okay, maybe the whole fake dating thing had caused a small rift between Y/N and Oikawa as well. Or just, the entire friend group. Seeing as the pair was at odds, and their mediator was out of the loop, things had become rather chaotic. Very, very fast. 

“You are horrible a acting Y/N.” Comes Oikawa’s response, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose as he exhaled deeply. “We’re screwed.”

Y/N scoffed, “with that attitude we definitely are.” Though Y/N almost frowns, Oikawa had become significantly... meaner ever since this had occurred. And though Y/N understood that she’d messed up, his behavior was just... off. In an attempt to shake her mind of these thoughts, she grabs Oikawa’s backpack from off the edge of the sidewalk, opening it to pull out a bag of chips he’d brought, “we just need something consistent and simple. Like, you’ve been in love with me since we met and confessed after a lot of contemplation.”

Now, Oikawa was well aware of his new attitude, though he hoped it could be written off as simple annoyance of the situation. He was just looking for a way to handle the simple fact that he was not prepared for this, at all. The thoughts in the back of his mind, the ones he’d buried—or more accurately, thought he’d buried— were resurfacing. And what better way to combat them then by starting a small rivalry until this was over.

“Yes, that makes perfect sense, thank you.” 

Sadly, Y/N had already proved to be one who didn’t really handle such attitudes well. As seen with the girl that she’d punched in the face just a few days earlier. So naturally, any thoughts of avoiding confrontation, went out the window at the sound of Oikawa’s tone. “What is up with you Oikawa, you’ve–”

“Hey guys.” 

Leave it to Iwaizumi to mess up a perfectly good confrontation. Though Y/N can’t help but feel simultaneously relieved by this fact, and stressed as Iwaizumi is here. 

“Iwa-Chan! Iwaizumi! How are you, buddy!” Oikawa exclaimed, making his way over to his friend to pat him on the back.

It felt as though they’d have to be walking on eggshells. Something that had never really been evident in their friendship until now, seeing as they’d all been fairly open. Of course there were a few things, that Y/N couldn’t help but feel reminded of now, almost wincing at the painful reminder of middle school. 

Their group hadn’t been doing so well then. And it had quickly become apparent to Y/N that she was out of the loop, and seeing as she’d been the new addition to the pair... it hadn’t been a nice feeling. 

“Let’s go then?” Y/N asked, looking between the two boys with a tight lipped smile on her face as she rose from her spot on the sidewalk. Opening the bag of chips as she pulled her backpack over her shoulder. 

Maybe it was wrong, but she also felt nice, knowing that for once— she was on the inside. Even though middle school was years ago, Y/N could tell there was something the pair still hadn’t told her. It’d been bugging her ever since they’d arrived at Aoba Johsai.

Alas, now wasn’t the time for that.

“We should probably discuss some things first.” 

There it was.

Oikawa exhaled deeply, opening his mouth in preparation for whatever conversation they were about to have, attempting to decide which explanation was most plausible. But, Iwaizumi beats him to it. 

“I’m happy for you guys.” 

Y/N blanks for a moment before saying, “what?”

Iwaizumi looks to her incredulously as he responds, “what? Am I not supposed to be happy that you two have finally handled the clearly unresolved tension and that—”

“Alright that’s enough, Iwa-Chan.” Oikawa exclaims, laughing breathily as he brings a hand to cover his friends mouth, only for Iwaizumi to look at him dully before shoving him away. 

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi adjusts his backpack on his shoulders, “anyways. I just wish you guys had told me sooner but...” He shrugs, turning around to begin their walk down the street and to their school. “It is what it is, now let’s go.” 

Y/N and Oikawa exchange looks, eyes wide as they do so. Both their mouthes gaping open as they scramble to follow Iwaizumi, who finally says, “just don’t let this change anything. And I guess you two can act—” He awkwardly gestures between the pair, “couple-y around me. Just don’t do anything pervy, Shittykawa.” 

Oikawa brings a hand to his chest, feigning offense as he comes to stand beside Iwaizumi, “why would I do anything pervy? Honestly you would be shocked by my dear girlfriend’s actions—”

“I don’t want to know, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi exclaims, shoving his friend away.

Y/N can’t help the way her cheeks warm as Oikawa is launched her way by Iwaizumi’s attack, he stumbles slightly, ultimately walking between her and Iwaizumi before throwing an arm over her shoulders. Though Oikawa’s eyes meet hers momentarily when he does so, a silent question within them. All it takes is a nod and his arm is resting completely on her shoulders and he’s back to his conversation with Iwaizumi as Y/N contemplated all her life decisions. 

Oikawa wouldn’t deny that it had gone better than anticipated but he already knows it’s coming when they arrive at the school and Iwaizumi is practically yanking him backwards as Y/N makes her way inside to speak with her other friends— who’d begun to swarm her almost immediately, questions leaving their mouthes rapidly as they searched for an explanation. 

Y/N can’t help but feel overwhelmed as her actual friends; the ones that are both curious and concerned, seeing as Y/N swore she would never date Oikawa Tooru and fall for her best friend. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Oikawa— aside from the fact that he had numerous insecurities and emotions that he refused to discuss even when it was clear everything overwhelmed him—it made sense that so much of the school was practically in love with him when you thought about it.

He had manners, decent grades, was a star athlete, and even Y/N could admit he was attractive. But... he was one of her closest friends and the idea of dating him just seemed... 

Wrong.

Aside from the shock from her real friends, there was the nosiness from the fake friends, the ones she’d never spoken to, the ones who had suddenly decided they were the best of friends and yet spoke trash about Y/N in their free time because she stole their precious Oikawa.

Yeah, the school was just a tad toxic. As if the grueling pressure of academics and intense obsession with Oikawa wasn’t enough of a red flag.

Sometimes, Y/N wishes she had gone to Shiratorizawa. 

“I feel like you know what I’m going to say, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi mutters with a sigh, leaving Oikawa to panic as he meets his friend’s eyes. The grip on his shoulder unnecessarily tight. “I don’t necessarily know what’s going on with you two— just that it’s weird. But I swear if you hurt Y/N in any shape or form—”

“I would never do that Iwaizumi.” Comes his reply, almost instantly. 

Iwaizumi pauses, eyes falling on Y/N who nervously laughs in the distance, her eyes pleading for his help before returning her attention to the group of people surrounding her. “I thought we got past this in middle school.”

“Me too, Iwa-Chan. Me too. But hey, lucky me.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, uncapping his water bottle, “yeah. Lucky you, I’ll forever wonder how you got her to date you.”

“Good question.” Oikawa’s eyes fall onto Y/N, and he turns to Iwaizumi, “now. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go save my girlfriend from all of my psychotic fans.” Oikawa would never admit it, ever, but it had only been a week since Y/N pulled her little stunt and it had become evident that a relationship really was what Oikawa needed to get people off his back.

Things had definitely improved for him, and Oikawa could only wish that he could say the same for Y/N. 

 NOBODY CAN KNOW— NOT EVEN IWA-CHAN. 

[nonagesimus]

this is all debbie @gaysuperhell fault

Looking back, it felt like Brady lost Jess and gained Sam in the same night.

Some party, right at the start of sophomore year, and Jess had come back after Summer with an edge and vicious smile she hadn't had the year before. Familiar, but something had changed, and she was partying harder, and rolling her eyes whenever Brady tried to ask her about it, and he'd stumbled into her at some frat party where she was being followed by some kind of behemoth. This dude so tall that he made the whole room look slightly off, because people just shouldn’t be that tall. Scrawny, still, just... big.

Jess, already looking frustrated, saw him and said, "Oh, hey, it's Brady, you guys have so much in common, you should be best friends and both stop bothering me." And she'd shoved this guy in Brady's direction and disappeared into the crowd

And the guy had watched her go, sighed, turned to Brady and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Sam."

"Brady," he'd said, accepting the handshake.

Maybe it wasn't that immediate. Jess had still been around after that night, and it wasn't like he and Sam had gotten together immediately. But looking back that was the bit that stood out.

After that it was seeing each other at another party, running into each other at the library, Sam casually asking if he wanted to get lunch on a study break, Brady equally casually asking if Sam would want to come to his dorm room and watch a movie. And that same movie night when some dumb joke made Sam laugh so hard that Brady leant over and kissed him until he stopped.

It became a little less casual, and a little more deliberate after that.

Brady got ready to go home for Thanksgiving, and Sam didn't. Late one night, tracing his fingers along the veins in Sam's forearm, he asked, "Are you out to your family?" They didn't acknowledge the silent is that why you're not going home that was asked alongside it.

"No," Sam said, voice quiet, nose pressed into Brady's hair. Even quieter. "I'm not, but they don't- We haven't spoken since before college."

Brady pulled him closer.

He went home for Christmas, but stayed for spring break, and he was biting his lip at flights around the date dorms close for Summer and wondering. Sam already had an apartment he was moving into, a shitty, one-bedroom that was probably far enough away from campus to cause an issue, but Sam just chirpily referred to as, "within budget." Brady was already feeling guilty for not thinking about this sooner, if they could've got a better closer place if he hadn't already been moving into a house with some friends, if he should've broken that promise to move in with Sam. If he should be staying for the Summer. He'd asked if Sam wanted to come to stay with his family, but Sam still got cagey about the fact that Brady's parents knew he existed.

Sam, ever practical, just shook his head at him. "Do you want to go see your family?"

"Yes," Brady said.

"Then go," Sam told him, with a kiss to seal it.

Brady sighed. "What if I come back a little early?" he asked. "My place won't be ready yet, would it be alright if I stayed with you for a couple weeks?"

Sam's smile answered the question.

But when Brady did come back, cramming his clothes into the little room left in the apartment, Sam was unhappy. Not at Brady, at least it didn't feel like it. Like, Sam was pleased to see him, he was just distracted, and frustrated, and edgy. Brady arrived on a Thursday and then by seven on Friday evening Sam had disappeared, and wasn't answering phone calls.

He got home sometime approaching dawn, still looking angry, with the stink of stale beer clinging to him, and piles of worn, folded twenties in his pockets. It took Brady a few minutes to realise he wasn't as drunk as he smelled, though he definitely was drunk.

They fought, and they'd fought before but Sam had always wanted to communicate. This time he was recalcitrant, and stubborn. An hour of trying not to wake the neighbours later, and he still hadn't even told Brady where he'd been for ten hours.

"Would it be better if I didn't stay here?" he asked, finally.

Sam flinched. "Do you want to go?"

"That's not what I asked."

Sam nodded, swallowed, the mulish look still on his face. "I gotta take a shower," he said, like he expected Brady to be gone by the time he was done.

When he did come out of the shower, in damp hair and sweatpants, Brady was sitting on the shitty couch he'd helped haul from where Sam found it on the sidewalk, curled up in a pile of blankets they’d found at a Goodwill. The anger wasn't there anymore; instead he looked stricken. Came to the couch, crawled into Brady's arms, and whispered apologies into his neck.

"I don't want to go," Brady said, softly, a little later. "But I want to help you and I can't if you don't talk to me."

Sam took a deep shuddering breath. "There's this dive bar a couple towns over," he said. "Just shitty beer and people making bets on pool, so I went to play a few games."

The confession seemed strikingly out of character, Brady tried to keep his tone neutral. "You left to hustle pool?" At Sam's affirmative noise he continued. "So, what's going on? Do you need the money?"

"No," Sam said, quickly. "No, I mean- I'll use it, but I don't need..." He sighed, wet eyelashes fluttering against Brady's neck. "It's what we did."

And slowly, as the sun rose, a story came spilling out about growing up in motel rooms and back rooms at bars. Of winning cash playing pool, and darts, learning how much to stumble and slur without overdoing it. Driving hours between towns, being the new kid in every school, right up until he left for college. Brady could read novels into the number of things Sam still wasn't telling him, but it was the most he'd spoken about how he grew up ever. So he didn't push, he just rubbed Sam's back and let him talk.

"I guess it's just. It's my junior year," Sam said softly. "It's been two years, and I just..."

"You miss them," Brady said, when it seemed clear Sam wouldn't continue.

"Yeah," Sam said.

Brady didn't let it get far past Christmas before confirming when Sam's lease ended, and at Sam's quizzical look saying, "Well, you don't want to renew this place, right? I'm not going all the way to campus from here every day next year."

Sam's smile was bright, and easy. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"I'm not asking," Brady said, slipping his hands into Sam's back pockets. "I'm assuming. It's very rude of me, but am I wrong?"

So it went.

Senior year, and they were in one side of a rundown duplex, but it was theirs. With Sam's shitty side-walk couch, and dents in the walls from moving Brady's heavy-ass bed frame, and textbooks scattered everywhere. And Sam was considering coming home for Thanksgiving, finally meeting Brady's parents, and it was Halloween, and he still wouldn't wear a costume, but he came to the party, and let Brady toast to his victories, and he smiled.

Brady woke up to him getting up to go to the bathroom, and rolled over into the warm spot he left behind to keep dozing.

Only he wasn't getting up to to the bathroom; there was a thud and muffled voices, and when Brady got up to find him having a hushed conversation with a stranger in a leather jacket, illuminated by the street lamp shining through the window

“Sam?” he asked, still a little hoarse from sleep, and the bar. “What’s going on?”

“Brady,” Sam turned towards him, a look on his face Brady had never seen before. “This is Dean.” He swallowed, hard enough for Brady to see. “My brother.”

“College boy has a roommate,” Dean said, giving Brady a brief once over before looking back to Sam. “How domestic.”

And that was enough to spark something in Sam, to straighten his spine and have him striding across the room to sling an arm around Brady’s waist. “He’s my boyfriend, actually.” His voice was decisive; Brady could feel his heart skipping beats beneath his palm.

That knocked Dean back for a moment - he gave Brady a slightly more thorough look but didn’t comment. “Well, tell your boyfriend I need to borrow you.”

It became clear Sam wasn’t budging, and Dean wasn’t thrilled. There was obvious intent in words, “Dad’s been on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”

Sam’s frustration couldn’t be clearer as he shoved clothes into his backpack. Their apartment was not big enough that Dean couldn’t see them from where he leant against the bench in the kitchen - shit he could probably hear them. But, as much burning curiosity filled Brady’s stomach towards Sam’s brother, Dean was not who he was worried about.

“You know you don’t have to go,” he said.

Sam shot him a brief smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t,” Brady said. “I said you didn’t have to go. Three years, they didn’t even call?”

Sam sighed. “I know. But it’s my dad, y’know. And hey, Dean knows about you now, maybe I’ll be on a roll and when we find dad, I’ll tell him too.”

“I could not give two shits what your dad thinks of me,” Brady said, earning a genuine smile that time.

“Look,” Sam said, gripping Brady by the hips and pulling him close, “It’s just a day or two. We’ll find him, and I’ll be back for my interview on Monday.”

“Good,” Brady said, hands sliding to the sides of Sam’s neck. “See, I’m planning to be some hotshot lawyer’s kept boy in a few years, and I’d hate to have to find a new candidate now.”

Sam laughed at that, and said he’d call. They exchanged I love yous, and Brady kissed him goodbye, and if he’d known it was going to be the last time he’d see Sam he never would have let go. But he didn’t, so he watched them drive away in Dean’s loud car, and went back to bed, and sent one last text message that said ‘u better fucking call’ and went back to sleep.

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

😅 I thought of another prompt. Can you please write a fic where Izuku overhears people saying Shouto is too good for him and they have no idea why he’d want to be with someone like Izuku. Izuku feels insecure and Shouto comforts him. Thank you! I promise I won’t spam you💜 I hope you’re having a wonderful day!

(I love this idea so much omg! I hope you’re also having a wonderful day! 💜)

Three days after they publicly announced their relationship, it started. At first, it was the strange looks that the other students - sans Class A - had given them when they had held hands in the corridor Monday morning. ‘Why are they staring at us?’ Shoto had leaned in to whisper, not relinquishing his grip on Izuku’s hand, which he was thankful for. ‘They’re probably just getting used to it, I think...’ Izuku had shrugged in response, looking at his red shoes. He felt for bad lying; he knew the looks the other students were giving him. He had been looked at that way his entire life. ‘They better hurry up and get used to it then.’ Shoto responded a little too loudly. ‘We’ve been hiding this long enough as it is.’ Izuku let out a small smile and turned to meet Shoto’s gaze. He gave his partner’s hand a squeeze of reassurance. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

When lunchtime came around, the whispers started. They were quiet and could easily be mistaken for idle chatter among students, but Izuku didn’t miss the way their eyes would glance over at him and Shoto as they walked to their usual table. He also didn’t miss the way they would stare at him like he was on trial, before leaning in to whisper something in hushed voices while giggling. ‘What’s wrong, Izuku?’ His boyfriend had asked him, bumping their shoulders together gently. However, his eyebrows furrowed with concern when Izuku startled in response, nearly dropping his lunch tray. ‘Nothing, Shoto-kun!’ He chuckled nervously and gripped the bright yellow tray tightly to stop his hands from shaking. ‘I’m just distracted.’ ‘Hmmm.’ As the days passed, the less subtle the other students became. After sweating himself into a deep paranoia, Izuku had decided to note down who exactly seemed to have an issue with him and Shoto. To his relief, it seemed that there were only really two groups of students who liked to stare and gossip about them, but that was still enough people to set Izuku on edge and make him worry to the pit of his stomach. It’s like being back in middle school. He thought gloomily. He wanted to tell Shoto what was going on, he really did. They had both agreed to be honest with each other from the start, and Izuku didn’t like keeping things from his boyfriend, especially after he had found out about One for All. However, he couldn’t put this on Shoto. He knew that his partner struggled with interpreting facial expressions and tended to have a short fuse when it came to something he was passionate about. If Izuku told him that these students were bothering him, he couldn’t entirely be sure that Shoto wouldn’t declare war on them like he had done to Izuku back in their first year. It was over a week later, when Izuku was in the school’s getabako, that he finally caught onto exactly what the other students were saying about them. Aizawa Sensei had kept Shoto back after classes finished, so Izuku had gone on without him. He had just finished switching shoes and had gotten up to leave when he heard a giggle a few rows down. Usually, Izuku would’ve just ignored it, but after moving towards the end of the getabako, he heard his partner’s name and stilled. ‘Todoroki-kun’s just so gorgeous. Every time I see him, I swear I melt a little bit!’ Someone spoke with a wistful sigh. Izuku’s eyes widened but he couldn’t really be mad about that. After all, Shoto was gorgeous. ‘So you’ve been saying.’ One of the girl’s friends replied, tone sounding bored. ‘Honestly, you need to get over him already, Kamiko-kun.’ ‘Why, Kei-chan? Because he’s supposedly dating that Midireo boy?’ A third voice asked. ‘Ugh! You mean Midoriya.’ The first girl - Kamiko from what Izuku gathered - spoke his name with such disdain that he flinched. ‘Yeah, not happening. They won’t last.’ ‘Why? They seem really happy together.’ The one called Kei-chan retorted. ‘I’ve never seen Todoroki-san smile before, but whenever he looks at Midoriya-’ ‘Come onnn, he smiles at him because Todoroki-kun knows he’s too good for him!’ Another girl, who had remained silent until now, groaned. ‘I mean he’s just so plain-looking!’ ‘Not to mention a crybaby!’ Izuku felt stung. He had been called a lot of things over the years - nothing could really compare to the stuff Kacchan used to say - but hearing them talk about him and Shoto like that? This was a new feeling. Sure, they hated Izuku and he couldn’t really argue with them. He was plain-looking. He was a crybaby - even All Might had told him as much. But the way they described his boyfriend? Like he was vain and superficial? You don’t know anything about him! Izuku wanted to scream. They didn’t know that Shoto was actually really insecure about his appearance. They didn’t know about his boyfriend’s recurring nightmares, where phrases like “you’re unsightly” and “you have your father’s eyes” have plagued his mind. You don’t know anything about us! Izuku shook his head violently. They didn’t know that Shoto was the first one to say “I love you”. They didn’t know the shape of Shoto’s lips when he first whispered to Izuku, “You’re beautiful”. They didn’t know what it felt like to take his boyfriend in his arms, never knowing if it will be the last time, because they’re training to be heroes and nothing is guaranteed. They knew nothing about them. Izuku frowned irritably and gripped the straps of his backpack, ready to storm out of the room. He knew Shoto would never string him along. But what if? His mind supplied. You've always known he’s too good for you. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’ The third girl exclaimed, startling Izuku. ‘All he does is cry until everyone’s attention is on him. It’s annoying and he’s so self-centred!’ That's not… Izuku wasn’t self-centred? He cried because he got emotional easily, not for attention. He felt his traitorous eyes begin to water and hated himself for proving their point. He hastily wiped his eyes using his sleeve. Shoto said… Even heroes must cry sometimes. ‘He’s also such a stalker.’ Another spoke. ‘Have you seen the notebooks he keeps with him all the time? Apparently he keeps notes on all his classmates and teachers! That’s so creepy!’ ‘He better not have a page on me!’ The group burst out into a fit of giggles just as Izuku audibly sniffed, trying to keep it together. Am I really being creepy taking notes? Kacchan had said something similar to him back in middle school, but his childhood friend thought that everything about Izuku was wrong or bad, so he hadn’t taken it seriously. He closed his eyes as the tears began to fall and leant his head against a getabako. Was Kacchan right? ‘Not to mention the mumbling.’ One of them wheezed. ‘So weird and scary!’ ‘Plus, the way he writes! I mean, have you seen his fingers? They’re so crooked and gross!’ Izuku looked down at his right hand, full of callouses and scars. He thought back to how Shoto had taken his hand yesterday, pressed a kiss to every digit and murmured “My hero”. ‘I know right! Ewww!’ Kamiko laughed. ‘He deserves it though, I mean, he’s so reckless! Did you see him at his first sports festival? Honestly, seeing him vs Todoroki-kun, it just makes it all the more obvious that he’s way too good for that loser-’ ‘If you have something to say about Izuku and I, you can say it to our faces.’ Izuku’s eyes widened and he shot up straight as the girls gasped. He knew that voice. Izuku hesitantly peeked around the corner of where he was hiding to find four girls with their backs to him and Shoto towering over them. His boyfriend looked at them coldly, arms crossed and ready to kill. ‘Ah! Todoroki-San!’ ‘We were just saying... Er...’ ‘You’re too good for a loser like Midoriya.’ At Kamiko’s outburst, Shoto stepped forwards and the room suddenly grew colder. Izuku felt a shiver run through his body. The movement must have alerted Shoto of his presence, as his eyes shot up and met Izuku’s own from across the room. When recognition dawned on him, his boyfriend’s hard expression instantly softened. They stared at each other for a moment, until one of the girls went to follow his gaze. Before she could spot Izuku though, Shoto broke off and resumed his icy glare. ‘I am not too good for him. If anything Izuku is too good for me.’ His boyfriend began, leaving no room for interruption. ‘He is my hero and the kindest and strongest person I know..’ ‘But I-’ ‘Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what you have to say.’ He raised his hand to silence her. ‘But if you’re going to badmouth Izuku to put me on a pedestal, then we’re going to have a big problem.’ Shoto bent down to be at eye level with Kamiko. ‘You don’t know him and you don’t know me - you don’t deserve to. Izuku may forgive easily but I don’t.’ His boyfriend stood to his full height again. ‘If I catch any of you spouting shit about Izuku or our relationship again, I can promise you, you will regret it.’ He stepped aside. ‘Go.’ The group immediately scattered - silently so as to not further enrage Shoto. When it was just the two of them left in the room, Izuku stepped out fully and wiped away some more stray tears. ‘That wasn’t very heroic, Sho.’ He sniffled as his boyfriend strode over. When he reached him, he took Izuku’s face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs across his wet cheeks. 'They were saying nasty things about the love of my life.’ Shoto replied easily, checking him over. ‘How much did you hear?’ Izuku asked, voice barely a whisper. ‘Enough.' ‘I tried not to let them get to me, but I couldn’t help it.’ Izuku hated the way his voice broke at the end, but when Shoto pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around him protectively, he let himself succumb to the feelings that had been picking at him for over a week now. Hiding in Shoto’s chest, he continued, ‘Sometimes I think, what if they’re right? What if Shoto-kun wakes up one day and realises he is too good for me?’ ‘Whenever you think something like that, I need you to tell me.’ Shoto pulled back to hold Izuku’s face once more, looking at him seriously. ‘I could talk all day about why I love you. Your brain and a bunch of envious bitches can’t take that away. Izuku, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re my best friend, my hero, my love.’ Fresh tears poured from Izuku’s eyes as he started to cry freely. ‘I love you, Sho.’ He hiccupped. ‘The same goes for you as well. I’m sorry I let all this get to me,’ ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault for wanting to make our relationship public.’ Shoto’s eyebrows knitted together with concern. ‘I didn’t realise something like this would happen.’ ‘You couldn’t have known.’ 'Hmm.’ Shoto pressed their foreheads together and kissed the tip of his nose.  ‘Do you regret it... Telling everyone?’ ‘No.’ Izuku shook his head and let out a watery smile. ‘Despite all of this, I’m glad that everyone knows. I am yours and you are mine.’ Shoto hummed in response and leant in for a quick kiss, smiling against Izuku’s lips. When he pulled away, he put on an expression of mock innocence. ‘And if they have a problem with that, I know how to get rid of a body.’ His boyfriend’s lip quirked up and Izuku snorted. ‘Shoto, no.’ ‘Shoto, yes.’