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anauthore · 4 years

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If the Rumours are True... (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Three}

Summary: The party at Wendy’s is more of a romp than you’re used to. The aftermath, also, is equally as unexpected.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

CW: implied sexual content / implied sexual content while intoxicated

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

South Park High, a school just as brutal (if not more) than any other high school peppered across the United States. There were cliques, clubs, boys, girls, and anything else you could imagine roaming the halls, ready to pounce.

You were luckier than most; you didn’t stand out at all. Sure, you had a small group of friends equally as normal as you, and sure, you turned in all of your assignments like a “goody-two-shoes”, but you blended in like camouflage in the forest.

At least, you did.

Your life has always been in the process of falling apart. You were used to the constant yelling and belittling of yourself, mostly from your parents. If anything, you’d used school- as hectic as it was- as an escape from all the shit in your day-to-day. You’d walk in, get noticed by no one, and stand in the corner, sit in your chair, get your work done, and leave. That’s how it’s always been, and the silence you’d brought along with you was always welcomed.

Today was different. Hell, last week was different. You weren’t one to go out and party, yet you took up the opportunity nearly as soon as it had fallen into your lap. You also didn’t ask for handouts or sleep in a stranger’s home, but when it was offered to you, you didn’t refuse. How could you? You needed help- Right?

You pushed open the double doors and breathed in the warmth from the heating system. You half-stomped, half-walked inside the building, getting extra snow from your boots before you found your usual waiting place; right around the corner of your class, conveniently in the front of the building just down the hall. You leant against the painted brick walls, trying to get your phone to connect to the school’s wifi before you gave up out of frustration- you understood why only teachers were allowed to connect, but that didn’t mean it didn’t piss you off some when you couldn't listen to music before class.

You took out your earbuds and wrapped the wire around your phone, shoving it into your pocket. You looked up just in time to make very brief eye contact with someone passing in the hall, and they snickered. Your brows furrowed, and you watched them slow down and whisper something to their partner before they pointed a thumb back in your direction.

...What?

What could they possibly be talking about?

You didn’t do anything that would warrant gossip. You scoffed to yourself before a sinister thought crossed your mind: What did you do at the party?

Anxiety built up in your chest as you racked your brain for any clue of something embarrassing you might’ve done. You just drank! You remembered playing beer pong, you remembered being really bad at it, but no instance of you completely embarrassing yourself came to mind.

You tapped your foot, waiting for the bell to ring and save you by ushering you and others to class. You wanted nothing more than to surround yourself in papers, work, and the silence that you’d grown to know as a friend, but you couldn’t. You, for the first time in a very long time, didn’t feel safe in the High School.

* * *

You sat in your seat- back corner, half-hidden by a structural mistake in the room that was a protruding wall. You leaned your head against your palm, leg bouncing as you tried not to stare at anyone that walked in after you. You heard mumbling and idle talk- it was Monday, and it’d been at least a few days before most people had had contact with their classmates. Greetings floated about before the teacher coughed and began his lesson.

You obediently pulled out a notebook and pencil, scribbling in the margins to distract yourself. You drew bottles and cigarettes, random circles, and a horrible rendition of a person. Before you knew it, class was over, and it was time to get up and leave.

You were the last one out of the room, and for good reason. The halls were crowded with people trying to get both here and there, but there was something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. You bumped elbows with some, and definitely were the subject for a group of laughing girls. Your blank expression didn’t change, but your pulse quickened, as did your pace. When you found a way out, you darted to your next class, ignoring anything and anyone that would possibly try and contact you.

It was like that for most of your day. Head down, dart to the next class. Do your work, turn it in, hide. You wanted nothing more than to be home right now- or at the very least, outside and away from everyone else.

The period before lunch was the thing you were most looking forward to; Wendy Testaburger sat two seats down from you, and though you didn’t talk much with her, you knew she was at the party. You knew she had answers. She had to.

You left your stuff at your seat and waved to Wendy as she walked in. She smiled and waved back, as usual, but didn’t say anything important to you. You didn’t like to speak up when it was so quiet, but this was important.

“Hey, Wendy,” you called her quietly, hoping that she heard you.

She turned her head around and raised her eyebrows, letting you know that she heard you. “Yeah?”

“Uh, I need to talk to you. About the party. Did-” you quieted down some more, now that you knew she could hear you just fine, “did anything happen? Like, anything I should know about?”

She shook her head before she stopped herself, and started to laugh. “Well, actually, there are a few things you might not remember. Nothing bad though! I promise.” Her unfaltering smile calmed you some, but it could only give you so much comfort.

You nodded, waiting as she told you things you already knew. She told you just how much you sucked at beer pong, and how Stan- that was the black-haired boy’s name- made you drink every time you missed instead of every time you made a shot in. She laughed about how drunk you’d gotten, stumbling over and then nearly falling into Bebe when you realized you’d finally scored a point for them.

You nodded, but none of this helped. “So, I just got shitfaced and then went to sleep on your couch? That’s all that happened?”

She started to nod, but then stopped herself. “Well, no.”

When she didn’t elaborate, you pressed further. “Well, what? Seriously, Wendy, there are groups of girls I’ve never seen before laughing at me in the hallway. This is important.” You pled with your eyes and she bit her lip, giving in.

“Okay, but you didn’t hear this from me. Bebe didn’t want me to tell you. Girls’ oath, okay?” She stuck out her pinkie for you to take in a pinkie promise, and as childish as you thought it was, you humoured her and did as she asked.

When it was over, she nodded and leaned in, her voice now just a whisper. “Okay, so you already know you were very drunk. You had trouble walking up the stairs to go sit down and sober up, so I tried to help you but it wasn’t working out. Kenny- you know him, Stan’s friend who always wears orange?- Yeah, he took you upstairs and took care of you. He has more experience than anyone else in that matter, so it was better for him, you know?”

You blinked. Kenny helped you, again? You didn’t think he’d want anything else to do with you after you literally slept on his floor, but, as per usual, you were completely wrong in that regard.

“Wait, so Kenny ‘took care of me’? As in, gave me water and stuff, right?” Your intense gaze never once parted from hers, determined to scrounge up every piece of evidence you could on this case.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know exactly what he did, but I know he didn’t hurt you or anything. At least, not really.”

Confusion once again weighed on your eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

She opened her mouth and then thought better of it, swallowing her words and looking to the side, as if she were being watched.

“Well, you know him. You know what he does.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t know Kenny. You know him, and all of Cartman’s friends. I’ve only heard of him, and until the party, I haven’t really had anything to do with them!”

She seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst. “Jesus, (Y/n), you know what I meant. He’s a player. You know what they do- they sleep with girls and brag about it.”

Your stomach dropped and you could feel the butterflies of anxiety flutter through every part of you. “But he didn’t sleep with me.”

Wendy shrugged. “He didn’t have to. All he had to do was say he did.”

Your face scrunched up and you plopped back into your chair completely, Wendy turning back to face the front of the room. You had never been so angry, nor felt so used. You’d also never felt so forced out in the open.

Fuck it, you thought, endorsing your impulses for once, if he’s gonna push me out there, I might as well be out there.

* * *

The lunch bell rang and you practically leaped from your seat, fueled by anger and adrenaline. Maybe you were feeling excitement, too, but you couldn’t tell with the rising anxiety that accompanied your other feelings.

You walked past the lunch line and sat your bag down at your usual table, reserving your seat before you spun on your heel and searched for that orange wearing fucker. He was easy to spot, especially considering your town was small and the school even smaller. You stormed toward him, your feet flying across the cafeteria tile to meet him before he sat down.

Cartman was the first to notice you coming at them, his confused expression turning to one of annoyance before the others noticed you as well. You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak, however, before you opened your mouth and spat pure venom at your perpetrator.

“What the fuck, McCormick?”

You grabbed his shoulder to make him look at you, but he must’ve sensed you coming because he was already staring you dead in the eye. He had one eyebrow raised, a dumb look on his face like he did nothing wrong at all.

“Hey, who the fuck are you calling McCormick?” Annoyance laced his words.

“You! You can’t just go around telling everyone we had sex! What kind of douchebag does that?”

Cartman snorted opposite you and Kenny looked at him for a brief moment before he turned his attention back on you. “Look, can we talk about this later? I-”

“No.” You interrupted him, tired of hearing his voice. Maybe he was right- everyone knows his name, everyone knows his game; everyone but you, apparently. “We didn’t sleep together. I’ve talked to you a total of two- two!- times, and you tell everyone we fucked? There’s gotta be something wrong with you in your head. Does your mom not give you enough attention?”

You could tell you struck a nerve with him, because his face got red and he clenched his fists under the table. At this point, the surrounding tables got quiet. No one was laughing now- just wide-eyed stares and confused glances from one friend to the other.

“Dude, don’t talk about his mom.” The ginger spoke up, his tone about as serious as the air in the room. Kenny didn’t even comment on his friend trying to back him- instead, he clenched his jaw to keep from saying something incredibly stupid.

“Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he spread rumours about me! Kenny-” you softened, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion. Fuck, not now, please, you thought, damning your inner waterworks. “you let me stay at your house when my mom kicked me out. I don’t even know you, and you put me to bed so that no one else would take advantage of me when I was intoxicated! And- and now, come to find out, all you wanted to do was tell everyone you tricked another girl into giving you some pussy? What kind of fucked up person does that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes and you finally looked away from him. You sniffed, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands before anyone else could comment on them.

You were too late, though. Cartman piped up, as usual; “Fuck, no one cares, lady. So, you slept with Kenny, big deal. Don’t think you’ll get famous for it or anything. Jesus.”

You scoffed, shaking your head before muttering to Kenny, but mostly to yourself. “I thought you’d be better than this. I just- fuck, nevermind. Fuck you.”

You walked away, leaving him to do whatever he did while you had your back turned to him. You didn’t know, nor did you really care. You picked up your pack and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall and crying as much as your body was able to. It wasn’t fair- life wasn’t fair. You knew that, but God you’d thought Kenny was a good guy. You thought maybe that deep down, he was just misunderstood.

And your heart broke, because it was so obvious that you’d thought wrong.

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angrypomerianian · 3 years

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it’s bring your sibling to school day and katsuki, monoma, toga, and hawks are siblings. todoroki gets the shovel talk. bakugou and fuyumi are best friends. chaos ensues. (todobaku~)

“alright,“ aizawa slams his papers onto his desk. “tomorrow is bring your sibling to school day. if you don’t have siblings, don’t bring anyone. if you do, then bring your siblings. simple as that.”

the class fell into an excited chatter as they started discussing who they were going to bring. kirishima bounded over to katsuki, “hey, bakubro! i’m going to bring my little sister. i’ve told her all about you, she’s going to love you!”

bakugou flushed at that statement. he could feel todoroki’s jealous stare. they’d been dating for a few months, but decided not to announce it. they didn’t think it was a big deal, so they decided it was nobodies business. “hey, who are you going to bring?“ kirishima asked.

“my siblings.“

kirishima nearly fell out of his chair, “you have siblings!? and you didn’t tell me!?”

mina bounds over, “who has siblings?”

“bakubro! and he didn’t tell us.”

she slams her hands on the desk, “you have siblings!? and you didn’t tell us!?”

“that’s exactly what i said!”

he rolled his eyes, “you’ll all meet them tomorrow if you wanna see them so badly.”

________

the next day, he was forced to wake up the birdie by himself. “BIRDBRAIN, GET THE FUCK UP!”

hawks fell out of his bed, squawking, “why do you have to be so damn loud in the morning...”

katsuki crossed his arms, “it’s bring your siblings to school day and everyone else is down in the kitchen.”

“fine...”

hawks and katsuki go down to the kitchen and see monoma chasing toga around the kitchen.

“i said i called dibs on the last bagel, you psycho!”

toga giggled, “i got to it first! finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers!”

katsuki rolled his eyes, “i picked up more bagels the other day, neito. look in the pantry.”

monoma sped off, mood suddenly lifted and katsuki turned to hawks, “keigo, we’re going to make an entrance at U.A. today. nedzu already knows about us, so you are going to fly us in last minute, neito and toga on your back, and you’ll be carrying me in your arms.”

hawks nodded, too dazed to compute what he just said. katsuki goes to grab toga, neito, and a bagel, and they are off.

hawks was to busy with work to be able to take them to school by flying, and katsuki missed this feeling. he missed the buzz while slicing through the air, wind tangling his hair even more, and the chilling air whipping at his face. he whoops, way too unhinged in the morning, and neito starts yelling, “katsuki calm the FUCK down! i don’t know how your classmates haven’t found out how unhinged you get in the morning.”

toga giggled, “i can’t wait to see izu-kun! and who’s the boy you’re seeing? shouto todoroki?”

hawks froze, “you like ENDEAVOR’S SON? WHY DON’T I KNOW ABOUT THIS!?”

katsuki’s face suddenly heated up, “BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU TO GIVE HIM A SHITTY SHOVEL TALK!”

before hawks had the time to retort, U.A. was getting closer. katsuki smirked, “alright motherfuckers, i know when homeroom starts so we’re going to enter the building right before we’re late.”

toga looked at him, “why can’t we be late?”

“because i need my perfect attendance.”

neito snorted, “that’s seems like the nerd you are.”

“you shut the fuck up. i’m not the one going on about how ‘class 1-b is more superior’ and all that bullshit.” neito pouts, and the three laugh.

it was 8:20, time to get this show on the road. hawks dives down, giving a feather to each kid. they stand on it, like a skateboard, and hawks controls the feathers. katsuki, neito, and toga are next to hawks, skidding across the ground with feathers. they all do flips, tricks, and jumps (like snowboarding) and laugh together.

they can feel people’s stares and hear their whispers, but they don’t care. they’re getting closer to the door, and they hear excited shouts and chatter.

neito glances at katsuki, “you ready for this show?”

katsuki grins “hell yeah.”

hawks zooms them across, and lets them do flips. they burst open the door, startling most people but they don’t care, and start flying through the classroom.

toga giggles, “that was so fun~!” there were yells in the air, but their kids calmed the siblings down. they’d wait for a little, as she didn’t seem like she was attacking anytime soon.

katsuki was still floating in the air, “keigo let me the fuck down!”

keigo crossed his arms, “no! i need to meet this todoroki kid you-”

“THAT’S A SHITTY SECRET, NO ONE KNOWS YET.”

“well everyone’s gonna know now!”

katsuki jumps off his feather, and lunges towards the number 2 pro hero. there are some shrieks, but he ignores them. “keigo- you fucker- shut the fuck- up!”

“where’s this todoroki kid you seeing?”

uraraka jumps up “you and todoroki are dating!?”

katsuki turns red, and todoroki flushes at the sudden attention. fuyumi and natsuo were staring at him with wide eyes, and todoroki shrinks away from their gazes. “this is all your fault, why’d you bring that up!? fuck you, toga! and get the fuck away from the shitty nerd!”

toga was leaning over izuku’s desk, all in his face. katsuki rolled his eyes, “i’ll call kurogiri if you don’t stop!”

toga squeaked, then pouted, “fine~”

“well, well, well! i hope you all remember that class 1-a is inferior to-”

“NEITO! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOU ARE ALL ADULT CHILDREN! WHY CAN’T YOU FUCKING BEHAVE FOR A SHITTY DAY!? I COOK, I CLEAN, I PAY THE FUCKING TAXES. ...shit.”

the class was silent. katsuki paid his own taxes? what about his parents?

“you extras weren’t supposed to hear that. ANYWAY! I ASKED Y’ALL TO BEHAVE FOR ONE DAY AND WHAT DID YOU DO? YOU FUCKED IT UP!” katsuki took a deep breath, “so, you’re going to behave, right?” his voice was dangerously quiet.

neito, toga, and hawks quickly nodded their heads. a quiet katsuki was an angry katsuki. “now, we have to go to neito’s class. come on.”

katsuki pulled hawks, toga, and neito all onto his shoulder, and walked out the door. “if aizawa-sensei asks, i went to 1-b’s class to drop this piece of shit off.”

kirishima was the first to get out of his shock., “alright, bakubro! hey, aiko, that’s bakugou! the one i told you about!” the little girl nodded, a little shocked.

katsuki slammed the door open, and strolled out. he was carrying them all so easily, like he was used to this. that’s what carrying nitroglycerin filled gauntlets does for you. he stalks to 1-b’s classroom. he could hear vlad king asking where monoma was, and took that as an opportunity to answer his question.

“your kids right here vlad, chill a little bit.” everyone’s eyes widened as katsuki entered the room, a villain, the #2 pro hero, and neito slung over his shoulders.

he plopped neito onto the floor, and puts his hand on his hips. neito looks up at him, dazed and looking like a lost child. “alright, before i leave, i got some shit to get over with.” he stalks over to kendo, gaze sharp and attentive.

after some silent moments, and throws the two other bodies onto the floor, ignoring their whines and protests, and puts his hands together. “i am so sorry that i had to burden you to keep neito in place. i lose about 100 braincells just talking to him on a daily basis, and i have no idea how you are even alive. i’d like you to pay you for making my life so much easier every fucking day.”

he hands her a 10,000 yen (about 100 dollars in usd) and grabs toga and hawks by the collars.

kendo starts stuttering, “i-i, you don’t have to give this to me! it’s too much, really!”

katsuki rolled his eyes, “girlie you probably lost about 200,000 fucking braincells, you deserve it. taking care of one monoma neito is like taking care of 20 problem children.”

“b-but! 10,000 yen!? how do you get that money?”

“i work. and aizawa-sensei pays me to take care of class 1-a on a daily basis.”

kendo mutely nodded. “anyway, neito don’t you have something to say to your classmates?”

“wha-! i thought you were kidding when you said that!”

“nope. saying this moment or i’m grounding you and prohibiting you from saying that class 1-b is superior than class 1-a.”

“he has power over that kind of thing...?” awase muttered.

monoma stands up and walks over to vlad king, “...thank you for being my teacher, vlad king-sensei.”

katsuki nods proudly, ignoring the adult’s spluttering, and picks toga and hawks up by their collars. “say hi to neito’s class.”

“hi~!”

“hello!”

katsuki nods in approval, “alright, neito i’m picking you up after school, you better behave. if i hear from anybody that this poor girl is losing her sanity over karate-chopping your neck today, i’m pouring salt in your water.”

neito nods feverently, goes to sit down, and katsuki leaves the classroom. he strolls back to the class, still holding the two adult-children by the collars, and plops them next to his seats, and stares at them. “what the fuck do you want now?”

“can i have some blood?” the students look at him in alarm, thinking that they were going to get some blood stolen from them, but katsuki takes a baby bottle out of his jacket pocket. it’s filled with... blood. toga starts drinking it, humming with content.

“uh, katsuki?”

“WHAT, birdbrain!?”

hawks is now petrified, “c-c-can i still give the shovel talk to y-your boyfriend?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

hawks pouts and todoroki breathes a sigh of releif. he does not need to be scolded by his father’s coworker, not today.

“katsuki-kun?”

katsuki looks up “hah?”

fuyumi looked at him, not at all fazed by his demeanor, “here’s the mapo tofu recipe you asked for!”

his expression softened just a bit, “thanks.”

she nodded, “no problem! remember the girl i told you about? sakura?”

“the one who glued the other kid’s hands to the table because he was being mean?”

fuyumi nodded, a smile on her face, “she, uh, she ended up kicking him in the balls and used some... explicit language the other day.”

katsuki starts laughing, “finally! the little fucker got what he deserved then.”

she started giggling as well, “i think some of the language came from you and your last visit.”

katsuki rolled his eyes, “i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. i’m a fucking delight to be around.”

“you sure are! the kids want you to come back soon.”

todoroki takes this as an opportunity to interrupt, “ah, fuyumi-nii, how do you know katsuki?”

she turns to him, “katsuki-kun comes by my classroom and helps out sometimes!”

he nodded, “oh” he then proceeded to lift katsuki up, sit in his chair, and put him on his lap.

the reaction was immediate. bakugou yelped, “what the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

“since everybody knows i thought we could do this in public now.”

“you motherfucker! this is a classroom!”

todoroki pouts. “fine...”

he leaves the chair, and katsuki repeatedly bangs his head onto the desk, muttering about how, ‘stupid extras can’t give me a break for a day.’

aizawa finally enters the room, looks at toga and hawks, and wriggles into his sleeping bag.

hawks tugs on his shirt. katsuki rolls his eyes for about the 50th time today, “what do you need now, fucker?”

“when can i give the shovel talk to your boyfriend?”

he rolled his eyes, “because i have the feeling that you aren’t going to leave me alone until you say yes, just give him the fucking shovel talk now.”

hawks brightened. “thank you! now... shouto todoroki please come with me!”

he gulped, stood up, and stiffly followed hawks.

natsuo walks up to him, “hey, uh, shouto’s gonna be ok, right?”

katsuki passively waves his hand, “probably.”

the students’ eyes widen along with natsuo’s who looks towards his sister. she just shrugs her shoulders.

hawks and todoroki come back. hawks looks happy and bright, while todoroki looks like he’s about to throw up. he trudges over to katsuki, stands next to him, and immediately slumps over him.

“what the fuck did you do to him!?”

“i talked to him!”

“it surely doesn’t look like it.”

“what do you mean!? he looks fine!”

todoroki still hadn’t made a sound. he was just hugging katsuki as if his life depended on it.

“really now.” katsuki wasn’t impressed.

he patted todoroki on the back, “oi, big baby get the fuck up.”

he said something that sounded like a moan and gurgle.

katsuki pushed him to the ground.

he started pouting (again) and made grabby hands towards katsuki. he sighed, dragged todoroki’s body to where his siblings were, plopped him down, and went to his seat.

before hawks could say something stupid, he spoke in a low voice, “if you don’t behave yourself until the end of the school day, i will personally drag your ass to the league of villains and have toga drink your blood.”

toga spoke up, “that sounds nice!”

hawks gulped, sat down, and looked at the ground. the classroom was silent, and kirishima jogged towards katsuki.

“hey, bakubro! wanna meet my sister?”

“whatever, shitty hair.”

“hey, aiko! come over here!”

the little girl goes over to him. she has black hair and red eyes, just like kirishima without his hair dye. “hi, mister! eiji told me all about you!” her eyes brightened, “can i see your quirk?”

he wore a small smile, “sure.” he gives off small sparks, and no smoke was exerted.

“woah! they look like little firecrackers!”

the rest of the kids huddled around katsuki, and he showed various things he could do without making a big mess. he made a glowing sphere, firecrackers, and used some powder to make explosions of different colors.

the rest of the students watched in awe, and fuyumi and natsuo were studying him. “i think you chose a nice boy, shouto.”

todoroki was watching him fondly, “i know.”

class ended, and the rest of the classes were filled with chaos. the kids kept asking katsuki to show him his quirk, which he did, and during training they were amazed by the big explosions he could make.

hawks and toga also behaved themselves, hawks occasionaly getting lost from the amount of students asking for autographs, but toga could navigate without a hitch. students were still wary of her, and shrunk away when she walked near them.

at the end of the day, the kids asked katsuki for one more demonstration, todoroki hugged him until hawks started glaring at him, and they picked up neito. he, thankfully, didn’t cause any trouble and they all went home.

the four walked home in comfortable silence when hawks spoke up. “y’know, i think that todoroki kid is all right.”

“yeah.” katsuki gave them a smile, “thank you.”

they all split into aw’s and how ‘katsuki was getting soft’, until neito made a stupid joke about class 1-a and b.

#bakugou katsuki #hawks #takami keigo #toga #himiko toga #monoma neito #class 1-a #kendo itsuki #class 1-b #kirishima eijirou #todobaku #todoroki shouto #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki natsuo

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omgrachwrites · 4 years

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Falling Stars (Sequel to Tell A Tale of You and Me) Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Thomas x Reader

Summary: In the midst of a brewing war you fall for one of your classmates, a boy that you used to know. When you have the chance to fight against evil, you fight for what you believe in.

Chapter Summary: Dean seems to open himself up more to you when he takes care of your injury. An explosive Quidditch match kicks off the new season and the Gryffindor team dwindles in its numbers.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of blood

Words: 2584

Disclaimer: I haven’t read The Order of The Phoenix in ages so the timeline may be wrong!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! There is a huge plot twist at the end of this fic so I’m gonna subtly start putting some parallels in! Also, I think that Dean doesn’t play Quidditch till the HBP but for the purpose of the story he’s on the team. I also forgot that Malfoy was on the Slytherin team 🙃 please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

previous part masterlist prequel next part

Chapter Three- Liars and Keepers

The loud, teatime chatter in The Great Hall sounded muffled in your ears, almost like you were underwater. You ate some of your soup, though you could barely taste it as your stomach gave another nervous lurch and you pushed your food away, trying to keep it down. The opposite of butterflies were raging in your stomach and you wondered what the opposite of butterflies would be. Everyone was laughing and chatting with their friends but you just couldn’t bring yourself to join in.

You tried to be brave – Harry had been brave – surely it wouldn’t kill you. Had a student ever been killed in detention before?

Astoria must have noticed your leg bouncing anxiously because her soft laughter filled your ears, “it’s gonna be fine, Cass. It’s not like you haven’t had detention before and I know Umbridge is a bitch but really, what is the worst that she can do to you?” your friend smiled kindly as she twisted the ends of your hair between her fingers.

You kept your mouth shut for a moment, you didn’t want to tell her what had happened to Harry, “yeah,” you let out a nervous little laugh that sounded high and false to your ears, “I should probably get going,” you gave her a quick hug and got up from your seat.

Harry stopped you as you walked past the Gryffindor with a rueful smile on his face, “I’m sorry that you have to do this, Cass. I feel like it’s my fault,” over Harry’s shoulder you saw Dean looking at the both of you with an expression of interest on his handsome face.

You shook your head and looked down at the scar on the back of Harry’s hand; you felt a flicker of anger. Umbridge really was a monster, “it’s not your fault Harry, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing when I realised that she had been practically torturing you.”

Harry laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, “well, thank you for defending my honour. I bet that Sirius is really proud of you,” you felt a thrill of happiness at his words, “and, remember that Murlap essence works the best for it.”

You nodded, attempting a brave smile, “see you, Harry,” your eyes met Dean’s and you offered him a small smile as you turned around.

“Cass?” he asked, curiosity and something else that you couldn’t place filled his voice. You hesitated, all you wanted to do was run to him but you shook your head and left The Great Hall. You had enough to worry about at the moment and you weren’t exactly friends with him anymore.

You were scared; you had to admit it to yourself, everything in the castle that once filled you with happiness and light, now looked dark and menacing. It was like a dark cloud covered your head as you walked down the candlelit hallways, almost as if you were in a trance. You had been so brave in Umbridge’s office only yesterday, after you had seen Harry in so much pain you were determined to make her pay for her cruelty.

Into her office you had marched with a fizzle of both courage and fear bubbling away in your chest. You knew that she would give you detention, you had no doubt about that, she handed them out like they were sweets. However, in that moment you didn’t care, Harry was your friend, your friend who had suffered through so much and he was only fifteen. Though, you wished right now you could be as brave as you had the previous night.

Gathering up your courage, you knocked on the office door which was promptly opened and Umbridge was standing there in her frills and her pink bows. She smiled at you like you were a particularly juicy fly. You had never seen someone look so thrilled, it made you feel sick.

“Right on time, dear, please come in and sit down,” she said in her high false voice as she gestured to a small desk.

You swallowed as you stepped into the office, crossed the room and sat down at the desk, keeping your eyes on the pink quill that was resting on the thick sheaf of parchment. The office stank of dried and dead roses; the walls had been painted a hideous shade of pink, much like the shade of pink that Umbridge wore. On the walls there were ceramic plates with kittens on them, the kittens looked at you and meowed. It looked like Umbridge was a crazy cat lady – and yet she hated McGonagall – that thought almost forced a laugh out of you. Almost.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Umbridge asked you as she sipped from a pink teacup.

You glared at her, “because I spoke up for my friend.”

Umbridge’s lip almost curled, “you’re here because you and that horrid boy are spreading awful lies,” she snarled before composing herself, “so, you will write, ‘I must not tell lies,’ it’s quite poetic really,” she tittered.

You remembered that she had forced Harry to write that too. You didn’t dignify her with a response, the quicker you got this started, the quicker you could go. At first, you couldn’t feel anything and you felt a burst of relief. The relief was short lived however, because in the next moment you felt a great pain on the back of your hand, like someone was cutting it open with a dull knife.

You glanced at your hand and saw the bloody words fade as you stopped writing, but as soon as you began writing again your hand was cut open all over again. You didn’t make a noise of pain; you didn’t want to give Umbridge the satisfaction. It was dark outside and your hand was a bloody mess, leaving streaks of blood across the smooth parchment when Umbridge stopped you.

“I’m sure that will teach you not to spread nasty little lies, off you go dear,” Umbridge smirked at you with relish.

The scathing retort died in your throat as you retreated from the office; you never wanted to step foot in that office or go through that pain ever again. You winced and hissed through your teeth as you closed your hand and felt a searing pain that almost made your knees buckle as you inspected the open wound on the back of your hand. You tried to mop up the blood with the sleeve of your robes but it was no use, the blood soaked the material, leaving it useless. There was too much blood.

“Cass?” you sighed and glanced up when you heard the familiar – unusually – gentle voice and saw that Dean was striding towards you. His face was hard to read. Though, his gorgeous eyes grew wide when he caught sight of your bleeding hand, “Jesus, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to be nonchalant as you hid your hand from view but you couldn’t hold back the wince that wracked through your body. Dean raised his eyebrow as he looked down to where your blood was dripping all over the floor, creating a small dark puddle on the stone floor.

When Dean looked back up at you, it looked like he was wrestling with his inner emotions and he threw up his hands in defeat, “fucking hell, Cass. Come on,” he jerked his head to the corridor behind him.

Dean’s face was closed off but his eyes were unusually soft and gentle as he regarded you. You had missed that look in his eyes and you never thought that it would be directed at you again. So, you followed him down the corridor without arguing.

“Wait here,” he murmured at you when you reached the Gryffindor common room. He came back barely a moment later with a bowl of liquid and a strip of cloth. You followed him down a deserted corridor and sat down on the stone bench.

He took your hand in his warm one and he placed it in the liquid as gently as he could, the liquid instantly went bloody. You cried out in pain as tears pricked at your eyes, it was like pouring salt over the wound. Dean shot you an apologetic look and you vaguely wondered why he was doing this.

“Jesus, Cass,” he grimaced, “what happened to you? It looks like words have been carved into your skin.”

“Umbridge has this fucked up quill that forces you to write with your own blood, it doesn’t come with ink. It carves the words you write into your skin, she tortured Harry with it, so I had a go at her,” you huffed out a pained laugh, “she gave me detention, I hope it won’t affect my Quidditch performance.”

“That was a really stupid thing to do,” though, he sounded impressed and his hands were gentle as he attended to your wound, “do you have a thing for Harry or something?” he raised an eyebrow nonchalantly.

You hid a smile, why was he so interested?

“Merlin, no!” you stared at him in horror, “we’re just friends. Kind of. You don’t have to do this you know,” you muttered.

Dean dimples made an appearance as he grinned, raising an eyebrow, “I know but I’m a good person.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as the pain began to dull, “I’m sorry about last year, it wasn’t me. I should have been a good friend.”

Dean shook his head as he wrapped up your hand in the cloth gently, “we don’t have to talk about that,” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he smiled, resting his knuckles against your cheek. You felt tingles at his touch and your heart almost fluttered when you realised just how beautiful he looked in the shimmering candle light.

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

Slytherin had the upper hand in this game, at least they did at the moment, Cass was a remarkable Keeper and Dean’s gaze lingered on her for a moment too long before he turned back to his own game. Gryffindor was a lot less lucky with their Keeper, it seemed as though Ron was extremely nervous. He’d accidentally broken Katie’s nose with the Quaffle about ten minutes ago. Now the Slytherins in the stands – and on the team – began jeering and singing a cruel song. Angelina was yelling at Harry to concentrate on the game.

Dean caught a couple of the lyrics, it seemed that Slytherin was celebrating Ron for fumbling and letting the Quaffle in. Dean momentarily wondered whether Cass was joining in. He got his answer when the Quaffle was passed to him and he soared to the hoops. Cass was smirking at him, with the wind blowing through her hair and she winked at him, eyes sparkling with the promise of a competition.

“Come on, Thomas! Give me a challenge,” she teased but Dean wouldn’t let her distract him. He scowled at her as he threw the Quaffle, putting a lot of spin on it. Cass’ eyes widened as she dived for the ball and caught it with the tips of her fingers. The relief was plain on her face as she threw the ball back onto the pitch and one of her teammates caught it, “try again next time, Deano!”

“Fucking hell, Cass,” he chuckled as he shook his head and turned back to the game, soaring through the cold air as he tried to take possession of the Quaffle again.

Cheers once again erupted from the Slytherin stands as Ron let another goal on, panic on his freckled face. Dean glanced at the scores and his eyes bugged out, Slytherin were leading 40-10. Dean prayed that Harry would catch the snitch soon; it would be their only hope of actually winning the game.

Dean soared around the pitch, trying to get possession of the Quaffle as he noticed Harry diving, unfortunately, the Slytherin seeker followed him and it seemed that Slytherin was going to win. It seemed that the gods were smiling down on Gryffindor today because Harry managed to catch the snitch and Dean felt a great burst of relief go through him.

“Gryffindor wins!” the commentator called out, making a shiver go through the sea of red and gold as they cheered, and Dean heard the roar of the lion hat that Luna Lovegood wore. Dean grinned as he looked over at Cass who was looking put out as she flew over to him.

“Congratulations, I guess. It was amazing stroke of luck that Harry is such a good Seeker,” she pouted, making Dean laugh as they landed and walked across the pitch. Dean didn’t know what had changed but he didn’t feel the same anger or bitterness that he’d once held for her. Though, that didn’t mean he was ready to be her friend again.

“You played well, the fact that we won doesn’t really reflect badly on you. You’re right, we’re lucky to have Harry,” Cass smiled at him as she lightly punched his arm, her cheeks were flushed from the cold and her hair was tangled.

As Dean and Cass approached the team, Dean noticed that Malfoy had come onto the team with his cronies and he was sporting a smirk. He said something that caused George Weasley to lunge forward to try and punch him but Harry held him back. Dean and Cass exchanged shocked glances as they walked quicker to see what was going on. Malfoy smirked and said something to Harry that was too low for Dean to hear. Although it seemed that Cass had heard because she grew tense and Dean could tell she was ready to run over there and join in.

Harry’s face drained of colour as he let go of George and punched Malfoy before chaos ensued. Dean threw out an arm to stop Cass from joining in, “let me go Dean! You didn’t know what Malfoy said! If you heard him then you’d want to kick his scrawny arse too!” she glared at him, a fire in her eyes as a muscle fluttered in her jaw. Dean didn’t want to admit it but she looked exceptionally beautiful when she was angry.

“Madam Hooch will break it up,” he laughed in amusement as he nodded at Hooch who stormed over to the fighting boys. As she successfully broke the fighting up, Dean and Cass walked up to their friends who were bruised and bloody.

Dean opened his mouth to ask what had been going on but before he could get the words out, there was a high pitched giggle that sent a horrid chill down Dean’s spine and he heard Cass swear beneath her breath.

“Never in my life have I seen such childish behaviour,” her gleeful face contradicted her words, “I think those three boys,” she nodded at Harry, Fred and George, “should have a lifelong ban. They need to be punished.”

“What about Malfoy, Professor? He was fighting too,” Dean glared at her and Umbridge threw him a careless glance while Harry looked at her in horror.

“I think Mr Malfoy was acting in self-defence, it was Potter who attacked him,” she giggled before walking back across the pitch. The three boys looked crestfallen as Angelina Johnson yelled at them; she would now have to find a new Seeker and two new Beaters.

“Well, shit,” Cass breathed out a laugh.

“Shit, indeed,” Dean agreed, Quidditch would be a complete shit show this year.

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

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themusingsofafangirl · 4 years

Text

Tutor

Characters: V (DMC5) x Reader (Gender neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of drugs.

Word count: 1597 words.

Credits: all gif belongs rightfully to the creator.

ModernAU. High school.

V is assigned to mentor you by your teacher as you were falling behind in studies.

It’s half past 2 in the afternoon and you were sitting in the detention room staring outside the window feeling dead bored. Failing in school was not really a problem you cared so much about at the moment because you had other pressing matters to deal every day you leave the school grounds like how to make money to pay the bills and put food on the table for you and your younger sister. But the sob story of your broken family background was now a thing of the past and all you care about is how to survive. No one knows you lived the way you do. You did not have close friends but you were not so lonely either in school. You stand on the fence of isolation and popularity, dancing on it carefully ensuring you do not fall on either side for the sake of your sanity and protection.

“___” a voice calls your name.

You look up and notice your classmate V was standing in front of you with a bag on his shoulder. You wear an expressionless façade, rendering a nonchalant vibe about the whole mentor-mentee attempt of the academia saving you from failing in school. The boy then takes a seat in front of you and starts pulling out books and stationeries. You noticed the fingerless gloves in his hands and realising that he always wears them no matter what outfit he wore. You heard from other students that he wore them due to an accident and he was trying to hide his scars. He also almost never wore any outfit that was short sleeved. Your curiousness also tells you otherwise because you noticed a few black lines traced up to his fingertips. He has a tattoo, I bet for sure. You thought.

“We don’t have to do this, V” you said with arms crossed.

V pauses from flipping the pages of the textbooks and stares at you. Suddenly he lets out a scoff, “Do you think, I wanted this as well?” he says.

You grabbed your bag and stood up, “Well then we should just stop before we start and save ourselves time,” and turned to leave.

“Wait.” V grabs your wrist to stop you.

You look down at your hands and tried to pry them off from him, but he keeps them firm.

“You and I are one and the same. We don’t want to be here but we have to. If it’s too much to ask, let’s just pretend to have you study. They’re watching me.” V explains.

You scrutinised your eyes at first after hearing him say that. They’re watching me. What does he mean by that? You thought to yourself. You looked at V and noticed his eyes was signalling something; his eyes quickly looked to the right and you caught on. You looked to your right and noticed your homeroom teacher was watching you both from the door.

Yo, creepy much? You thought to yourself again.

“Okay Mr. Poet. Let’s play pretend. With my conditions. Firstly, you’ll tutor me like how you should. But I’m not going to give a damn about a word you say. Agreed?” you proposed to him.

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “AND!” you suddenly interrupted,

“You have to tell me, why is the academic board watching you.”

His mouth hung open when he heard this proposal as his brows began to form a knot in between his forehead. “Fine, ____. So long I can save myself from trouble.”

You both came to an agreement. The first lesson he tutored you was on World History. You let him rant on explaining to you about the Great Depression, and the Korean War while you were pretending to listen, you were doodling on your notebook and creating little sketches of things that comes to your mind randomly. Three weeks passed and V was still tutoring you. However, whenever the teachers from the Academic Board leaves the detention room both of you relaxed a little and drop the charade. During times like this, V and you would have a small chat on everything else except studies. You learnt a lot about him; his favourite music, season, his pet peeves and noticed that he was not too different than you at all. Though, one has been itching in your mind since the day he first tutored you,

They’re watching me

“V, you haven’t told me yet.” You spoke up. Your friend stopped whistling Claire de Lune and looked at you confused.

“Told you what?” he asked.

“Why they watching you for?”

He sat up straight and placed both his elbows on the table, his hands perched under his chin.

“Yours truly, is on the verge of expulsion.” He sighs.

“Expulsion? A kid like you? No way.” You replied.

“Yes. Well, I was framed that’s all I know,”

“Framed? By who?” you asked.

“I don’t know, but I was framed for supplying ‘the good stuff’ in school.” He answered. “Only your homeroom teacher believed I didn’t do such a thing.”

“Miss Fayeman?”

“Yup. So, she gathered all the members of the Academic Board and told them that if I manage to tutor you to pass this term, then it proves that I’m no dealer.” He added on.

You sat there confused and in disbelief that a man like him would do such a thing because based on your observation, you damn well knew that V would not go that low to do such a thing in school. He has his pride and his motivation to achieve and drugs were out of the question entirely.

“And that is why ____, I need you to pass this term.” he says quietly.

You felt guilty after hearing his plead; but you did not want to show him your emotions. You too had your pride and image to maintain so you just looked elsewhere instead of him.

“I have to go,” you said. You packed all your things and rushed out immediately after that. You knew that you were the weakest in your class in terms of academics but you felt ashamed that someone else with other problems was dragged into yours just to help you clean up your act. You were out of mood the entire day, so much so that your sister left you a piece of Twinkie in front of your door. After going through some thinking, you decided that you wanted to help V clean his name. You still put up with the charade after school hours with him when he tutors you under the watchful eyes of the teachers, but when you got back home, you would recall all that he explained and revise them again in your room – the constant burning of the midnight oil even put a strain on your shoulders and back from slouching at the study table too long.

Exam season came, and you were ready to ace everything. V doesn't say much on that day, but the look on his face somewhat shows that he did not expect too much from you. You still kept your act; pretending to be unbothered about studies. When the results came, your homeroom teacher called you and V into the office.

“My, my.” Miss Fayeman says. “Looks like no one is getting expelled.”

V and you shared the same expression of confusion.

“Here, look for yourself.” Miss Fayeman added and pushed a slip of paper towards the both of you from across her table. You both scooted closer to the table and eyed the results carefully. Every single one of the subjects either had an A- or A on it and lastly the commentary from the Principal down below wrote,

Extraordinary improvement. Congratulations. Keep it up.

When the both of you left Miss Fayeman’s office, you held onto your result sheet and bolted out of the school building leaving V behind. You did not know what to feel. You could not believe that you actually studied to save a friend of yours whom you suddenly had feelings for from expulsion.

“___, wait!” he shouted and chased after you.

You ran out of the school building and made your way to the football field. You climbed up the bleachers and just sat yourself there, gasping for air. Not knowing how to react to everything that just happened. V made his way to where you were too, panting for air in his frail looking body. The poet made his way up to where you sat and crashed on one of the seats beside you.

“Jesus.” He exclaims. “What is wrong with you?”

You were still panting, but a smile slowly grows on your face. You felt like you have won the lottery – but most importantly, you saved someone from being expelled.

“V,” you said.

“Yeah?” he answers still gasping for air and cooling down his pulse.

“Would you come with me to homecoming?” you suddenly proposed.

“W-wha-“

“Homecoming, silly. I want you to be my date.” You said.

“I- uh. Yeah sure,” he says wearing a look that leaves him so puzzled.

“You and I are one and the same, indeed.” You added.

You got up from the bleachers and wanted to walk away, but V stops you from doing so by holding your hand and turning you around to give you a kiss. This caught you by surprised but you guess that your feelings for him was valid and mutual. He lets go from the kiss, smiling as he says,

“Joy is my name, - Sweet joy befall thee.”

“Blake, oh, Blake,” you said and pulls him in for a kiss again.

#vitale #v #dmc5 #v x reader #vitale x reader #devil may cry #devilmaycry5 #dmcv #vdmc #oneshotwednesdays

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peterthepark · 5 years

Text

Princess

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: He’s seen her around the campus - a polite and quiet girl, who unmistakably happened to be very close friends with Billy Hargrove. But the more Steve gets to know her, he realizes that there’s a completely different person underneath that shy facade of hers.

Warnings: smutty content, cursing, fluff, some angst, DADDY STEVE, more than 5k words

A/N: Pure filthy fun and fiction. Enjoy!

It’s Thursday when Steve Harrington finally shows up to class. His hair is a mess, falling in matted waves against his forehead as he struggles to even out his breathing. Everyone is glaring at him because of his late and abrupt arrival. He leans against the doorframe of the busy classroom, flashing the professor a charming smile as he attempts to casually waltz in.

Steve takes the empty seat beside you, pulling out the chair with a sharp screech that makes him comically cringe. You look over to him, smiling shyly as he scoots closer to the edge of the table. He meets your gaze, returning a tight-lipped smile in your direction before he takes out his notebook and pen, scribbling nonsense as the class picks up again.

However, you do catch him looking occasionally over your shoulder at some points during the lesson, and figured that he was having trouble keeping up with the speed of Mr. Cortez’s lecture - and so you decided to do what any other kind classmate would do. You slide your notebook over to Steve, not failing to notice the breath of relief he takes once he‘s able to successfully copy your notes without rush.

“Thanks.” He nudges you softly. “I was literally dying earlier. I mean, c’mon, I show up and suddenly he’s zooming through this thing.” He jokes, covering the side of his mouth as he whispers to you. “By the way, I’m Steve.”

“I’m Y/N.” Extending his other hand, you give it a polite shake before you turn back to the projector.

“You new here?” You take your notebook back, brushing your hair away from your face as you continue to write. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around that much.”

“Oh, I only come around to class on Thursdays. I have a few other classes that - that screwed up my schedule.” You chuckle, tapping your pen lightly against your hand. “Overloaded myself this year. College sucks.”

“Shame. This is the only class we have together, then.”

He can see your rosy blush despite the slight dim in the room. She’s pretty.

Steve bites his lip subconsciously when you look away with a mousy grin. He bumps your knee with his, before he continues. “It’d be nice to have you around. You’re cool. Uh, you’d be a cool study buddy, you know? Unless - unless you have one already? A study buddy?”

Damn, get it together.

“Study buddy?” You glance at him, shutting your notebook. You lean back into your chair. “That’d be nice. It’s - It’s real sweet of you, Steve. But I’m - I don’t really... I like to stick to myself with my studies.”

“Oh! Of course. Yeah, no problem.”

“No hard feelings?” You laugh, watching as he runs his hands through his hair.

“No hard feelings.”

Class is over by the time you and Steve are done speaking. He walks you down the hall towards Economics before you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from your newfound classmate turned friend.

“Y/N, I see you’ve met Steve Harrington.”

“Billy.” Steve gives him a nod, clenching his jaw at how the asshole of a guy pulls you closer towards him. Billy chews on a piece of bubblegum, smacking his lips together before he whispers something into your ear, to which you laugh at.

“Oh, Steve, yeah, this is - Billy’s a friend. I didn’t know you guys knew each other?”

“We go way back. High school.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve replies, eyes trained on the ground. “Played him in basketball a few times. For sure the best players on the team. Although, don’t get me wrong, but he was a big piece of-“

He turns his head to look at you. But you aren’t there.

And that’s when he realizes that he’s walked past your Economics classroom.

Dumbass.

“Harrington, where you going?” Billy smiles viciously at him, following Steve down the hall with long, smooth strides.

“Just headed to the library. I’ve got a free period.” He rolls his eyes as Billy starts chuckling once more. “Okay, what’s funny, asshole?”

“You - you gotta stay away from Y/N.” Billy takes out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, lighting one as he places it between his lips. “She’s a lot different than you’d think.”

“Jesus, I’ve just met her and you’re already hounding me about her? Chill out.” Steve scoffs. Unbelievable.

Fucking annoying.

“I’m warnin’ you, Harrington.” Billy glances behind him, looking in the direction of your classroom while he shakes his head. “She’s a player. She ain’t afraid to break hearts around here. Watch your back.”

Steve gives Billy a dirty look before he walks away again, pushing his shoulder to open the door to the library. It’s silent, as expected, and Steve is sure to walk around quietly. He sits down by the table in the back corner of the room, hidden away in the shelves of numerous books. Bored, he takes one into his hands, placing it down onto the table as he reads quietly. He can’t get you out of his mind. Although his eyes read over the words of the book, all he can think of is you - your voice, your hair, the aura of mysteriousness that you carried. Normally, Steve wouldn’t care to go after a girl as shy and as resigned, but something about you simply struck a place in his heart.

But, Billy’s apparent warning from earlier also sends him into a spiral of confusion. What could you have possibly done to cause Billy to tell him that? It seemed like you wouldn’t even hurt a fly - much more a person. Maybe Billy was just trying to have you all to himself, and that irritated Steve.

Unless you were dating each other.

It’s hard for him to imagine it - Billy Hargrove, the town asshole, with one of the sweetest girls that Steve has met. It’s all very strange. But it doesn’t stop Steve from wanting to be around you more.

He hears faint footsteps approach him. He doesn’t think of it much, until he sees a stack of books drop onto the wooden table. He looks up, and he nearly jumps out of his seat. You smile at him as you sit down across from him, pushing your stuff aside before you take out your homework.

“Y/N, hey.” Steve says, surprised to see you so quickly.

“Hey, Econ got cancelled. That’s why I’m here.” You shrug with one shoulder, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you fix your gaze on the tiny lamp on the table. “Free period?” You ask him.

He nods, pursing his lips. Now, he’s able to finally get a good look at you under the harsh light. He wasn’t wrong before. You are pretty. Wisps of hair dangle against your face, coming loose from the modest ponytail that you had done earlier. There’s an innocent glimmer in your eyes, accompanied with another look that Steve can’t quite place.

He watches as you shift in your chair, tugging at the knitted fabric of your sweater. That’s when Steve sees the faint, red mark hidden in the juncture of your neck. He’d recognize that kind of blooming shade from anywhere.

A hickey?

Your lips turn up into a quick smirk, and it fades instantly before Steve can see it. You cross your legs over each other, bumping your knee softly against the hard wood of the table.

“Well, uh, there’s this party tonight,” You start, licking your lips. Steve’s eyes flicker down to the motion. “Billy and I are gonna be there with a bunch of other people from our year. I... I think it’d be nice to see you there.”

Steve didn’t take you as the type of person to party even though he had just started talking to you.

But, really? You? A sweet, smart girl partying with Billy and other classmates?

It was a little crazy and surprising to think about. He considers your offer for a second, knowing that he hasn’t been to a college party since last year. Even more, he hasn’t been hanging out with anyone new recently - other than Robin and a few other mutual friends, who fortunately, also got into the same school as him. Though, for once, Steve just wants to be a regular, college kid - partying, hooking up with girls, or regretfully getting hungover before an exam day. There’s a voice in the back of his mind that urges him not to go, to focus on studying and finish the essay that he needs to turn in before Saturday night.

“Fuck it.” He chuckles, gesturing a hand mindlessly. “I’ll see you there.”

You grin toothily.

“Can’t wait.”

Steve stares at the neon pink flyer in his hands. He runs a hand down his face, sighing as he places the paper onto his bed. He looks at himself in the mirror, readjusting the collar of his leather jacket. Suddenly, he feels a little self-conscious. He tugs his sunglasses over his eyes, running his hands through his hair with groans of frustration.

He‘s gonna have fun tonight. He promises himself.

There’s a loud, rhythmic knocking at his dorm when he finally puts his shoes on.

“It’s open!”

The door clicks, and Robin peers into the room with a suggestive face. “You going to the party?”

“Yeah, aren’t you?” He tilts his head at her. A purple masquerade mask covers her eyes, while her freckles peek out from beneath.

“Of course I am, dingus. I’m trying to have fun tonight.” She chuckles, moving out of the way so Steve can shut the the door behind him. They walk down the bustling hall of boys, who also seem to be dressing up for the party. “I can’t believe you’re wearing shades...” She flicks the frame, rolling her eyes when Steve lets out a yelp. “...To a masquerade party. Literally. You’re lame.”

“I’m not lame!” He raises his eyebrows at her, wagging his finger before they leave the dormitory. The air is cool, blowing a light breeze through Steve’s hair. “These shades are - they’re cool, okay? They’re Ray-Bans, c’mon. Anyways, who are you tryin’ to impress?”

“I’m not impressing anybody. I’m impressing myself.” He shares a knowing look with her, biting the inside of his mouth. “Fine, fine. I’ll actually be honest. There’s this girl that everyone’s been talking about-“

“Oh! So she’s popular? Okay, I can get with that.” Steve pushes at her shoulder, throwing his head back with a laugh as she tries to push him, too. “Sorry! Sorry! What’s her name?”

“Literally nobody knows. She has - she’s like some mystery girl around campus with like multiple aliases. I don’t know.” Robin shrugs, eyes twinkling with wonder. “Maybe she’s into girls. Maybe, you know?”

And Steve nods with understanding.

There’s some part of him who wants to have fun and hang out with potential hook-ups. But also, he really doesn’t want to look for other girls. He wants to genuinely hang out with you, to get to know you better, to actually talk out of class and without Billy getting in his way.

After all, you did invite him to the party - which must’ve meant something, right?

Steve and Robin push past the masses of people - students and graduates alike fill the big house, each holding red solo cups or a can of beer. It’s loud and reeks of liquor, as expected from a party. Def Leppard plays through the speakers by the DJ booth, while people dance and grind around in the living room. There’s a pool outside, where older students push each other into the water and play beer pong.

Steve doesn’t deny the fact that he’s missed going to parties. High school was different, but college - it was something else. It’s wild, fun, and nobody really gives a shit about what anyone’s doing. He bobs his head along to the music, still sticking with Robin as they make their way to the kitchen. There’s cheers and hoots, and Steve runs into a bunch of friendly classmates.

“Frankie! What’s up, man?” Steve rejoices, bumping fists with his old dorm buddy. They start to chat with one another, catching up on the latest happenings in each other’s lives before Frankie - as usual - brings up something about dating and sex.

“Dude, you’ve heard about that girl, right?” Frankie pours Steve a drink, passing him the cup of alcohol.

“Which one? There’s a lot of girls here.” Glancing around the room, he chuckles. Was he talking about the one that Robin had brought up earlier? “Oh, wait! Is it - is it that girl, the one with like no name? Nobody knows her? But she goes here?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” Frankie pumps his fists into the air, beer sloshing over the rim of his cup. “Hottest chick I have ever seen. God, she’s supposed to show up tonight. She literally never misses a good party. She’s crazy, brother. This is why I’ve always invited you to the parties, Steve! This - this girl! Have you even seen her?” Steve shakes his head, feeling a bit overwhelmed from Frankie’s sudden burst of energy. “Man, you’ve gotta - you are missing out.”

Maybe Frankie has had a little too much to drink.

It isn’t long before Steve is on the dance floor with Robin. Alcohol pumps through their veins as they jump around and shout, taking gulps from their something-number cup of beer. Steve can barely hear his voice anymore over the booming bass, and he’s sure that he’s probably lost it from how loud he’s been drunkenly screaming the lyrics of certain songs.

However, Steve feels his chest tighten from how cramped the room is as more people begin to flood in. He lets Robin know that he’ll be outside, and steps out onto the deck by the pool - finally getting some much needed fresh air.

“Steve!” He turns with a look of surprise, shifting into laughter when he sees Penny Kramer - a friend that he had met through one of his previous classes. He pulls her into a quick hug, instantly hitting it off into a conversation about the party.

“Oh, yeah. I’m having so much fun.” He tosses his empty cup into the trash, before he leans onto the deck railing. A thought passes through his head, and he swallows before speaking, “Hey, uh, really weird question.”

“All ears.” Penny replies, taking a drag from her cigarette.

“By any freakin’ chance, do you happen to know anyone named Y/N?”

Penny bursts out into a long chuckle, blowing a puff of smoke into the night air. “Oh, Y/N? Such a nice girl. Too nice. Kinda freaks me out sometimes. But yeah, I do know her. Why?”

“She invited me here tonight. I haven’t seen her at all. Was hoping to hang out with her, but... she’s not here.”

“She invited you?” She stops, tapping her cigarette. “What the actual fuck? That’s so weird.”

“What? Why?”

“She never invites people to parties. Hell, let alone ever show up to one.” Steve furrows his eyebrows, burying his hands in his pockets as he scoffs. “Seems like she stood you up, bud. Sorry, I guess.”

“And she’s friends with Billy Hargrove? He’s an asshole? And she’s like a really sweet and quiet girl? How do you explain that?” He should’ve known that you wouldn’t have come. But why the hell did you invite him in the first place? To embarrass him? Leave him hanging?

“Now that... that I can’t explain. Maybe they’re like study buddies or something. She probably tutors the damn idiot, Steve.”

Study buddies. Funny.

Suddenly, collective shouts ring from the living room as the loud roar of a motorcycle echoes through the neighborhood.

Curiously, Steve makes his way back inside with Penny, along with other groups of students who seemed drawn to the sudden attention. He finds Robin in the crowd, tugging on her shoulder to ask what the ruckus was about.

“It’s her.” She says, not bothering to look back at Steve. Everybody turns to the front door, and Steve can just squint out the sight of a group of people approaching the house.

“Who?”

The music kicks up as soon as they walk in. Billy Hargrove, along with a few other people, stride inside. As always, Billy carries a smug smirk, sporting a leather jacket to go on top of his bare chest. He’s got a cigar between his fingers, laughing about as people begin to talk to him and greet him.

But Steve doesn’t give a flying fuck about Billy.

Instead, his attention shifts over to the girl who has Billy’s arm slung around her shoulders. A blue bobbed wig sits on her head, along with an ornate mask that covers the upper half of her face. Her lips are painted bloody red, while she shows a cocky grin. She’s barely dressed as well - wearing a flashy top accompanying the fish-net tights underneath her short skirt. It’s also as if Steve can hear the sound of her high-heeled boots click onto the hardwood floor.

Immediately, he knows who she is.

The mystery girl that everyone seemed to be whispering about.

And now, he realizes why she’s the talk of the town.

She kisses Billy on the cheek, giggling when she realizes she’s left a lipstick stain on his skin. The people in the room start to separate as her and Billy strut deeper into the house, before stopping in the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

Robin whispers something to Steve, but frankly, he doesn’t hear her.

Because mystery girl seems to have locked eyes with him.

Her blue wig glitters under the disco lights, and Steve can barely make out the color of her natural hair beneath it. The party picks up again, only this time, it’s much louder and crazier than before. Mystery girl hasn’t broken eye contact with him, even though Billy starts to kiss up her neck and grope at her hips.

Who is she?

Steve tries not to get affected by her. Him and Robin decide to sit on the staircase, taking a break from all the heavy partying.

“I’m gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” Robin mumbles, falling into Steve’s shoulder. “Dude, I’m so wasted. Holy shit.”

“Yeah, me fucking too.”

He looks over the crowd. He can see the blue head of hair from a mile away. She has her arms hooked around Billy’s neck, making out with him amongst everyone else. She pulls away, before whispering something in his ear. Steve shuts his eyes for a second, only to miss out on how mystery girl pointed in his direction and Billy looked.

“I’m gonna throw up.”

Steve winces as Robin hurls loudly into the toilet. He sits against the shower curtain, massaging his temples as he waits for a minute of peace. Because Robin - poor girl - is literally still spilling out her guts into the toilet. She takes a deep breath, flushing away the disgusting contents before she collapses against the sink cabinet with an exaggerated groan.

“I wanna die. This is terrible. Why are people doing this to themselves?” She scoffs, burying her face in her arms as she brings her knees to her chest.

“At least you’re already sobering up. I can still - I’m still a bit doozy.” Steve chuckles, rubbing his eyes. “God, is that - girl with blue wig... she’s the girl?”

Robin nods, voice muffled as she speaks into her arm. “Yeah. She’s always wearing a mask to parties and that wig so nobody - nobody really knows what she looks like. But I’m sure she’s beautiful. And hot. She’s probably hot.”

Steve chuckles, before he stands to help Robin to her feet. “C’mon, let’s ruin our lives some more. Make the most out of this damn party.”

That’s how Steve ends up by the keg stand.

Chugging and chugging and chugging.

He feels adrenaline soar through his veins. Beer trickles down his shirt when he pulls away, while Robin and the people around him cheer happily for his new record.

However, his glorious ‘King Steve’ moment is stolen when Billy and Mystery Girl enter the kitchen, possibly drunk off their minds.

“Harrington! Finally fuckin’ showed up, huh?” Billy punches Steve’s shoulder, biting his tongue when he sees him wobble over. “Fucking lightweight.”

“Hey, back off, dickhead.” Robin steps in front of Steve, slurring her words as she snarls spitefully at him. Pulling him away from Billy, she glances at Steve with reassurance before she ushers him to the less-crowded backyard.

If Steve wasn’t drunk before, he certainly is now.

“God, so much for ruining your life.” She scoffs at her friend. She sits him down in a plastic chair. “I’m gonna get us water and some food. Cool down, alright?”

Steve can only nod, and Robin disappears back into the house party with hasty steps. She bumps into Mystery Girl, apologizing profusely with blushing cheeks.

Her wig bounces as she wraps her arms around her chest, shielding her skin from the chilly air. There’s an empty seat next to Steve, and she gestures at it as if to ask if it were taken. She sits down, crossing her legs together.

“You’re pretty big around here.” Steve pipes up, feeling a bit nervous to be around the ‘myth’ herself. He immediately wishes he hadn’t spoke when she quirks a brow at him.

“Really?”

The voice sounds almost familiar, but Steve can’t place where he’s heard it before. She sounds slightly strained, as if she were speaking in a pitch that isn’t her regular voice. Steve looks over at her, eyes trailing down her neck and down her chest. He shakes himself out of his trance, knowing that he shouldn’t be looking at her like that.

But he can’t help it with the way she chews on her lip.

“Yeah, everyone - everyone thinks you’re-“

“Hot? Pretty? Sexy?” She chuckles, glancing down at her freshly manicured nails. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”

She reeks of confidence. Steve would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to her. She seemed straight out of a movie.

A fantasy.

“You’re with Billy Hargrove, then? How’s that? Must be some...” He scoffs, clasping his hands together as he leans forward in the chair. “... some power couple, yeah?”

Mystery Girl cackles loudly. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, and Steve can’t help but smile. Her masked eyes twinkle in the night, while the water of the pool reflects ethereally onto her outstretched legs.

“Oh, Billy wishes that I was his girl.” She sighs, before she finally looks over to Steve. For a second, he thinks he recognizes the face beneath the mask, but she turns her head away again before he can mention it. “I like to ride solo. There’s nothing better than - than being free to do the shit I wanna do. Being with Billy would only tie me down.”

“Of course. Someone like you... I’m sure you have lots of - of, uh, fun.”

“Met anyone nice tonight, Steve?”

What?

“I’ve actually been look - wait, how do you... how do you know my name?”

“Uh, you mentioned it to me earlier.” She flips her hair over her shoulder nervously.

She doesn’t let Steve see the faulty break in her wall.

“Did I?” He narrows his eyes at her. She nods confidently. “Damn, I really must’ve had too many fucking drinks. Jesus.”

“It’s a party. Have fun. You’re supposed to get drunk.” She utters, waving her hands about. “When’s the last time you’ve done some stupid shit?”

Steve exhales, closing his eyes in thought. “I don’t know. Uh, maybe... maybe the summer after high school graduation? Got into a fight with this...” He shakes his head with disbelief, before continuing. “... this Russian guy.”

“That’s hot.”

Her and Steve exchange another round of laughter. She uncrosses her legs, smoothing down her skirt against her thighs with the palms of her hands. She pushes her hair away from her cheeks, licking her lips.

Steve is hooked.

And he’s desperate to know who she is.

“What’s your name?”

She huffs, turning in her chair towards him. “You really think I’d tell you that?”

“Well, you know my name. I just think that...” His gaze flickers down to the hickey on her neck. His cheeks heat up, before his whole body starts to feel warmer. “I just think that it’s only fair that you tell me yours.”

She opens her mouth, hesitating for a split second.

“You can call me Princess.”

Steve gulps audibly. His jaw clenches momentarily and he feels a rush of sensation in his body.

Princess.

“That’s hot.” Steve jokes, earning another smile from her.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” She stands from the chair, holding a hand out towards Steve.

“And do what exactly?”

“Just stupid shit.”

Steve gasps as he is pushed against the door of his dorm. His hand cups Princess’ cheek as he kisses her deeply. Their breaths are heavy as Steve takes off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He steps forward, letting his hands roam all over the expanse of her back as he traps her against a wall. Her blue hair tickles his nose as he goes to suck on her neck, leaving an angry red love bite.

“Fuck...” She whispers, watching intently as Steve rids her of her shirt and lacy bra. Her mouth falls open as he cups her breasts, squeezing them softly in his hands before he leans down and takes a nipple between his plump lips. She chuckles, running her nails through his thick hair. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” She pushes him away for a minute before she tugs his shirt over his head.

Princess slings her arms behind Steve’s neck, pulling him into another messy, hurried kiss. Her lipstick is smeared all over his mouth, traces of it littering the length of his neck. Steve reaches behind her to cup her ass, moaning into her shoulder before he unzips her skirt. He curses when he sees her lack of underwear, and the fact that she was only wearing the fishnet tights for the entirety of the party. She’s taken by surprise when Steve grips her face, bumping noses with her as his lips ghost over hers. He parts his lips as he watches her tongue poke out from the corner of her mouth.

“Shit, look at you.” He brushes her hair away from her eyes, still hidden by the mask. He tries to hold back a moan when her leg brushes against the bulge in his jeans, and he places a hand on the wall beside her face to stop himself from stumbling over. “I’m so fucking hard, Princess. Fuck.” He gasps when she repeats the motion, but Steve catches her wrist the next time she does it. “Can I... can I taste you?”

She whimpers loudly, nodding with furrowed eyebrows. Steve takes her by the arm, guiding her to sit down on his bed. She yelps out of surprise when he pushes the back of her knees over her head. He rips the fishnet tights apart, moaning when he sees how wet she’s become. He sinks to the floor, pulling her to the edge of the bed before his tongue delves deeply between her sweet folds.

“Steve!” She sits up on her elbows, face contorted into a mix of pleasure and relief. Steve locks eyes with her, chuckling.

His mouth feels divine. But his goddamn tongue...

Shit.

The ridge of his nose brushes against her clit. And Steve feels himself twitch in his pants at the way her back was arching. His hands wrap themselves around her thighs, pushing her legs farther back onto the bed before he’s replacing his mouth with his long fingers. He pumps them in and out at a quick pace, collecting her juices once he pulls them out of abruptly.

“Jesus...” Steve shakes his head, undoing his belt. Princess crawls forward, tearing Steve’s hands away from himself as she unbuttons his jeans at an expert pace. Princess laughs at the state of his lips - swollen and wet and definitely sweet.

Suddenly, Steve is the one on the bed - clothes are strewn all over the room, hanging from ridiculous places as Princess lays between his parted thighs. She takes him into her mouth, humming. Her wig bounces as she pushes him into the back of her mouth, gagging once her mask brushes against his pubic bone. She pulls herself off of him, saliva dripping down her chin as she tries to catch her breath. Her hands twist around his length, jerking him off quickly while she bounces on her calves. Steve throws his head back against his pillow, groaning quietly as Princess moves to hover above his hard cock. But before she can sink down onto him, Steve flips them over, so that her torso is buried into the mattress while her ass is in the air.

“Do you have a condom?” She breathes out.

Steve swiftly opens the drawer in his nightstand. He rips the packet open with his teeth, groaning as he rolls the latex onto his erection. He’s panting, running a hand through his messed-up hair before he finally gains the air to speak. “Do you want this?” Princess nods silently, pushing her ass back at him teasingly. “Tell me to stop. I’ll do it right now.”

“No, I want it. Steve, just fuck me alr-” She chokes on her words as Steve pushes his dick inside her, placing his hands on her hips. He’s smirking at her silence, knowing damn well that her cockiness and bratty demeanor was just an act. “Daddy...” She whispers into the sheets, fisting the material.

Steve moans filthily. He leans over to grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her back carefully to brush his lips against her ear. “What’d you call me?”

“Daddy.” She giggles, biting her lip when she decides to look into his eyes. She gasps when Steve lets go of her hair, letting her fall against the mattress without care as he starts to pound into her.

“Keep calling me that. Fuck.” He thrusts into her, screwing his eyes shut at the pleasure that he was feeling. He’s flush against her, mouth agape as his dick slams in and out of her.

“So good, daddy. I love it.” She glances back at him, flashing the small butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck when she moves her hair away.

It isn’t long before Steve is pinned onto the bed, while Princess bounces on top of him - tits in face and everything. Steve has never done anything as dirty as this, and he feels his abdomen tighten as she leans back, placing her hands on his thighs as she rides him sensually.

“Princess...” He bites his lip, bucking his hips up to thrust into her pussy with choked moans. “You gonna cum? You gonna cum for - for daddy? Shit...”

“Yes! Yes!” Her legs quiver as she reaches her orgasm, and she falls against Steve’s chest with loud pants. Steve sits up, hooking his arm around her waist before he pounds harder into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin rings throughout the dorm room, and Steve’s glad that he doesn’t have a roommate. Princess pulls his hair, and Steve places a hand around her neck before he’s sent to the edge. He thrusts out of her, sliding the condom off before he’s covering her tits and stomach with strings of his cum.

He stops to catch his breath, resting his cheek against Princess’ chest in exhaustion. “Fuck, that was so good.” She toys with the little tufts of hair at his neck, leaning down to kiss his cheek before she leaves the warmth of his lap.

She combs at her blue wig with her fingers, sighing when she swings her legs over Steve’s bed. There’s a hesitancy in her voice, but Steve is too hazy to hear it. “Do you have a bathroom?”

He nods to the bathroom in the corner of his dorm - it’s super tiny, with only a toilet and sink, but it’s enough for Princess to freshen up. She collects her clothes from off the floor, before locking the bathroom door behind her. Steve grabs a fresh pair of boxers from his closet, before going to rest on his bed to wait for her to return. He shuts his eyes, placing a forearm over his head.

The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is the click of a door, and a muffled ‘thanks.’

“Steve.”

He groans, rolling over onto his back. The room becomes brighter as his curtains are pulled apart, bringing him to a state of anger at the sudden disruption.

“Steve.”

“What?” He mumbles, clutching his pillow under his arm. Lazily, he lifts his head towards the sound of his voice, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “Robin? What the fuck are you-“ He tightly wraps his sheets against his bare chest, scooting up till his back hits the headboard of his bed.

A pang of nausea hits him, and he’s immediately reminded of the amount of alcohol he drank last night. Still wrapped in a sheet, he sprints to the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet as he vomits into the toilet. He mewls dramatically when he feels the throbbing pain in his forehead. Slowly, he makes his way back to his spot on the bed with hooded eyes.

“Put some clothes on, you dingus.” Robin makes a face at him, tossing him some from his closet. Steve grunts as he slips into the fresh clothing, struggling to get into his shirt from how sore his whole body feels.

“What happened last night?” He asks, voice hoarse and laced with sleepiness.

“Dude, you ditched me!” Robin frowns at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she plops down onto his study table. “You suck!”

“I didn’t ditch you! What - when did I ditch you?!” He panics, genuinely unable to think about the rest of last night. “Ro, all I remember is the keg stand and that’s it. That’s as far as - as my brain can go. Oh, my - I wasn’t drugged, was I? I must’ve been drugged. Holy shit, it’s that whole Russian thing all over again-“

“Steve! Hey!” Robin claps her hands, blinking at Steve with utter concern. “You were not drugged last night. But you were drunk off your ass!”

Steve literally doesn’t remember shit. He’s not kidding. Frankie. Penny. Beer. Keg stand. Mystery girl. That’s it.

Then a memory hits him from out of the blue. He snaps his fingers continuously, recollecting thoughts as he turns to look at Robin. “Does the name Princess ring a bell to you?”

“Princess? Are you still drunk?” She rolls her eyes at him, slapping the back of his head. “The only princess here is you, sleeping beauty.”

“Robin! I’m serious! I swear I... nevermind.” He facepalms his forehead, obviously frustrated with how last night’s events have gone over his head. “Fuck, how drunk did I get?” He rocks back and forth on his heels, nervously pulling at his hair.

“Steve. Listen.” Robin reaches over, squeezing his shoulder with a softer voice. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out but...” She erupts into a chuckle, glancing around his dorm. “By the looks of this place... it seems like someone had a lotta fun last night.”

Surely enough, Steve’s place is messy. His clothes from the party are thrown all over the floor, along with a few pillows from his bed. There’s a condom wrapper on the floor, to which Robin gags at.

But his gaze is drawn to the shimmering thread on his pillow.

He reaches for it, then realizing that his fingers were pinching at a strand of hair.

Blue.

“Is that...” Robin gasps, eyes widening when she takes the string of blue hair from Steve’s fingers. “Why the - what - no freaking way.”

“I have no idea what this is. What-“

“Steve. Mystery girl.” She dangles the strand in front of his face. “Did you take her here?”

Oh, fucking hell.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god!” He launches himself off the bed, pacing around in short circles. “There’s no... how...”

“Steve! Remember. Try to remember.”

Stupid shit. They did stupid shit.

“We hooked up.” He realizes. His eyes dart around the room, and all the memories come back to him in short pieces. “Her - She goes by Princess. That’s her name. And then - oh, my god. I had sex with her, Ro-“

“Calm down. She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

“No! Of course, not. I just - fuck!” Steve stops pacing. “Yo, what time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Shit!”

Steve ends up late to class. Again. For the second day in a row, Mr. Cortez gives him a disapproving nod, glaring daggers at Steve as he drags his feet shamefully to a empty chair. He looks over, realizing you are nowhere to be seen. It’s Friday, and Steve remembers that you only show up on Thursdays. Maybe it was for the best, not to see you till then, because Steve did feel a bit angry and saddened that you didn’t come to the party. He’s thrown off for the rest of the day - searching for someone who resembles Princess in the halls to get his mind off you. But he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, except a bright ass blue wig and possibly a flamboyant outfit.

It’s the following week when Steve is able to see you. He isn’t late, but in fact, he is very early. He can easily spot you in your navy turtleneck, and the bare beautiful face that he can’t help but stare at. He walks up to you quietly, unsure what to say.

“Y/N.” He says, clearing his throat when he hesitantly sits down next to you. You seem surprised, and your eyes flash with pitiful embarrassment.

“Steve, listen, about - I can-“ You drop your pencil onto your notebook, gesturing at him with an ashamed voice.

“It’s fine, Y/N. It’s fine. Just... why invite me to the party if you weren’t planning on showing up?” He scoffs, looking down at his lap as he plays with his hands. “I wanted to hang out with you. I was - Y/N, I was so excited.” He rubs at his chin, shaking his head. “Genuinely.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry. I wanted to go. I just... I forgot I had other freaking plans and I had to stay home. I didn’t mean to - to flake on you.” You pause, before continuing with a shaky voice. “I invited you because I think you’re... shit - I think you’re cute, Steve. And I wanted to hang out with you, too.”

Steve looks up at you. “Actually? You think I’m cute?”

Blushing, you chuckle. “Yeah. I do. And you’re really nice to me.” There’s a hint of distrust in Steve’s body language - due to past experiences with dating and girls during high school. Slowly, he nods, taking in your unexpected words. “I totally get it if you don’t... I mean, we’ve only known each other for a week, probably less. But the party was a way for me to get to know you more. Out of school. I definitely missed out on not going.”

You send him a hopeful look. Your lips are pulled up into a struggling smile, obviously under pressure because of the situation. Your hands tremble on the desk. “Y/N,” Steve convinces himself that you probably were busy. Anyways, he didn’t know you that well, so who was he to distrust you right away? “You know what, let’s meet up later.”

“Yeah?” Instantly, you sit up straighter in your chair.

“Yeah. Let’s go to that coffee shop down the block. It’s my favorite. I think you’d like it.” He flashes a boyish smile at you. “I’ll pick you up?”

“Okay. Yes, of course.” You nod rapidly. Stuttering, you whip around the grab your notebook, tearing out a paper before you hurriedly scribble something down. “C-call me. Later. I mean. Before you pick me up.”

“Promise you won’t flake on me.”

“I promise.”

“Robin, what do I wear?” Steve tosses a pile of clothes onto his bed, clearly stressed as he places his hands on his hips.

“All of this shit is ugly.” She sputters into laughter, sorting through the clothes. “Where’s that jacket I gave you for Christmas?”

That’s how Steve ends up in a denim jacket with fur lining, sporting a white shirt underneath. He rubs his hands against his cuffed jeans, adjusting the black belt around his waist. He feels good. He looks good. He smirks at himself, before spraying a round of Farrah Fawcet into his hair.

“So, tell me about this Y/N!” Robin sits up on the bathroom counter, looking down at Steve with pure excitement.

“She’s really pretty, and shy. Smart girl.” He chuckles, flicking the stubborn curl that wouldn’t leave his forehead. “I’m going in pretty blind. But hey, it’s a date. I’ll get to know her.”

Robin smirks, playing with her shoelace. “Well, look at you, Steve Harrington. Hooking up with the hottest girl on campus then scoring a date with a smart, gorgeous lady? You’ve gotta lend me some tips, dingus.”

“You don’t need any. Anyone would easily love you.” A friendly stare lingers between the two of them, before Steve huffs and slaps at Robin’s shoe. “Now get out of my room. I’m tryin’ to call Y/N.”

After an awkward yet pleasant phone call with you, Steve drives himself over to your house. He’s nervous, but also eager - he hasn’t been on a proper date for a long time; he knew that he couldn’t find anyone more perfect than you to be his new first. He pulls into your driveway, tapping his fingers against his steering wheel as he stares up at your big house. Preparing himself, he takes a couple deep breaths, before he steps out of his car and strides up your porch. Then, he’s struck with realization: he never got you a gift. Frantically, Steve’s eyes dart around his surroundings, landing on the vibrant yellow sunflower in a planter. It’s the thought that counts, right?

Steve immediately holds the sunflower up to his face once your front door swings open. You break out into a grin when you step out onto the porch with him. “F-for you.” He stammers.

“Thank you, Steve.” You take the flower into your hands, completely looking over the fact that it was one that your mother grew herself. Closing the door behind you, Steve offers his arm to you. You chuckle, wooed by his chivalrous gesture as he walks you to his car. There’s a sway in your steps, and Steve finds it a little amusing that you can’t walk straight. He’s suddenly thinking about Princess, wondering if he did enough to...

He shakes his head, pushing away any thoughts of her as he reverses out of your driveway. You and Steve are engaged in conversation; all awkwardness between the two of you are thrown out the window, and Steve feels relieved in getting to talk to know you more. Weird as it seems, he also feels like he’s met you before. Something about the way you talked and the sound of your voice sent him into memory lane. Only, he’s sure that it was a recent memory.

As promised, you and Steve walk around the city with coffee cups in hand. Occasionally, your shoulders brush against each other. Your voices are loud, filled with enthusiasm when you mention a quaint bookstore down the avenue. Soon, you’re taking Steve by the hand, pulling him into your get-away place with innocent eagerness. You start to chase each other quietly down the shelves, laughing silently as Steve manages to nearly knock over a porcelain vase. You stand on opposite sides of a bookcase, starting another interesting conversation.

“You’ve read all these books?” Steve stares at you in wonder, following you down the aisle. You nod proudly, picking up a lost novel from the floor. You pass it to Steve, who takes it carefully into his hands. He looks at you for a moment, before he flips through the dusted pages. “This is your favorite.”

“You remembered?” You meet his gaze with a touched smile, feeling giddy at how Steve was able to remember your favorite book from when you told him on your stroll.

“I didn’t know I was gonna be tested on that.” He jokes, tucking the book under his arm. “Is it for sale? I’ll buy it for you.”

“No, Steve. It’s okay. Thank you.” You pass up on his offer, rounding the corner of the bookcase in that you stand across of one another. “I would’ve bought it for myself, but it’s too expensive.”

“That’s why I’ll get it for you. It’s a gift. Let me, Y/N.” He towers over you, holding the book against his heart. “I like you a lot. I wanna buy it for you as a - as a...”

You burst out into laughter, taking the book from him to place it on a shelf. “As a token of your affection?” He shrugs with a playful scoff, studying you. “Steve, you don’t need to give me anything. You don’t need a book to show me that.”

He sucks in a nervous breath, parting his lips as he speaks. “Would it be too soon for me to kiss you?” He steps forward, light on his feet. The bookstore is silent, and the sudden tension between you and Steve is loud. “Can I kiss you?”

“I think that’d be much better.”

Steve pushes your hair behind your shoulder; his fingers brush over the fabric of your turtleneck sweater as he dips down to kiss both of your cheeks. The tip of his nose bumps against yours, and Steve closes his eyes at the little gasp you make when his hand trails across your back. You step into him, peering into his beautiful brown eyes with marvel. He presses his lips to yours, softly. The toe of his shoe bumps against yours as you run your hands down his arms. He tastes like an autumn day - a combination of sugar and spice. You pull away, letting your thumb graze across his bottom lip gracefully, and Steve isn’t afraid to kiss you once more. You’re smiling like a teenager when you finally step away from each other, cheeks reddened.

“We should go...” You grin up at him coyly, lashes fluttering against your skin. Steve’s hand envelops yours as he leads you outside. Your arm finds itself tangled with his as you walk across the street, winding around the town until you reached his parked car.

From then on, Steve hasn’t stopped taking you out on dates, bringing you to different shops and restaurants around town until nothing new was left for the two of you. However, you never really expressed what your relationship with him meant to you. Steve was in turmoil: Were you two casual? Was that a ‘no strings attached’ kind of thing? Were you guys even a thing?

Steve thinks he’s found an answer when he sees you one Wednesday morning in the community park - with Billy Hargrove. The conversation seems to be tense, based on the way that Billy stares down at you and how you push at his chest. Immediately, Steve’s jealousy is replaced with furiousness. Was Billy messing with you? Stopping his morning run, Steve stomps over to your place by the fountain, frowning with clear resentment.

“You okay, Y/N?” He pulls you behind him, taken aback when he sees the tears in your eyes. He brings his voice down to a whisper so that you can only hear him. “Is he messing with you? What’s going on?”

“Steve, it’s - it’s fine.” You place your hand on his chest, pulling him away. You sniffle, and Steve feels the blood boil in his chest at the thought of someone making you cry.

“Whatever shit you just pulled, Billy, I want you to know that you should fuck off.” He growls at Billy as you both walk away, tugging you close to his body. He shushes your sobs, soothing you with sweet words. “I’m here, Y/N. Can I take you home? Do you want me to take you there?”

You’re nodding rapidly; your airway is constricted with overwhelming emotion as Steve talks about his day to distract you, not once does he ask you for directions to your house, having memorized the walk there anyways.

You’re in your room when you cry into his shoulder, clutching at Steve’s shirt that was now damp with tears. Steve feels heartbroken - not because he saw you with Billy, because that meant nothing to him. Nothing mattered to him than the beautiful, crying girl in his arms. The bed creaks as he shifts, embracing you tighter. You haven’t spoken a word since earlier, and Steve patiently waits in the silence of your room. “I’m sorry,” You croak, wiping your tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket. “God, I ruined your shirt.”

He rubs your elbow. “You wanna tell me about what happened?”

“You’re gonna hate me.” You mutter, curling up into yourself. Steve stares at you intently, clenching his jaw. “Billy... Billy and I were kind of - I don’t know what it was, but we messed around. We were messing around before we started going out.” You shut your eyes at how Steve tenses up. “I wanted to break things off with him, but I couldn’t... he knew stuff and... he wasn’t hurting me, I hope you know that. I was just too scared to let go.”

So you were messing around with Billy.

“You didn’t tell me.” Steve scoots away from you. His jealousy arrises again at the thought of you and Billy together, behind his back. “We were together and you didn’t tell me about him? Y/N, what the hell!”

“You have every fucking right to be angry, but Steve... Steve, when were we ever together? You were doing the sam - It’s not like I was cheating on you.”

No. Not like this.

“Bullshit, Y/N! We were going on dates!” He stands from your bed, gesturing at you wildly with his hands. You hurt him. You fucking hurt him.

“I’m sorry! Steve, I’ve never... I’ve just never been committed to anyone. I-It scares me.”

“Well, it looks like you won’t be committed to anybody for a long time. I’ll see you around, Y/N. I’m done here.”

You are left with a hanging jaw and an aching soul as Steve leaves your house, slamming the front door behind him angrily.

Steve doesn’t sit next to you anymore on Thursdays, resorting in the dark corner of the classroom. He doesn’t talk to you that much either, rarely even engaging in a full conversation with you. He knows it’s childish to ignore you, and that you weren’t technically at fault for anything that had happened.

He’s done the same thing as you. So why the fuck was he acting like this?

He just needs time.

Time to figure everything out.

He’s at a well-deserved spring break party when he runs into Princess again. She seems off, disinterested in everything around her. Heck, Billy was staying out of her way as well, making out with other girls instead of her, to his surprise. Steve feels a bit suspicious, based on how she began to stray away from the attention, chatting with friends in the corner of the room and drinking soda rather than beer. When he locks eyes with her from across the house, he doesn’t hesitate to approach her. This time, he’s completely sober and he can actually feel his nerves flare up.

“Hey,” He says to her, raising his cup of water. “How are you?”

“Not in the mood, Steve.” She sighs, downing her soda as she stares at him blankly. There’s a tiny hitch in her forced voice, and Steve easily catches the way she eyes him. He inches closer to her, yet respectfully careful in keeping his distance. “A guy fucks you once and suddenly he can waltz in whenever he wants.” She snaps, brushing angrily past Steve.

What the hell?

People whisper and point at Steve as he chases after her. She walks briskly out of the party, clicking her heels against the sidewalk as her arms swing at her sides. Not once does she look back when Steve calls for her to stop. He’s able to weave around her, halting her in her tracks. “What is your problem? Does everyone have a problem with me these days? Jesus, Princess-” She stops him by smashing her lips against his, bringing his head down to meet hers. Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise, before relaxing into the kiss. He caresses the side of her neck, before he has to tear himself away. “What’s gotten into you?” There’s something about the color of her eyes underneath the mask, a shade that he’s sure that he’s seen carved into his mind. His eyes are concerned, and he suddenly feels a knowing feeling when she presses her forehead against his, tracing his bottom lip.

It feels too familiar.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Princess?” Confused, he takes her hands into his. It’s too intimate of a gesture, he knows, but her behavior was worrying.

“I need you.” She whispers breathily, before stepping onto the tips of her toes to kiss him again. “Please.”

“I don’t wanna take advantage of you like this.”

“You aren’t. I just want another good time with you...” She scoffs, and the wall she’s been putting up is back again. “Daddy?” Her face splits into a mischievous smirk when Steve holds his breath.

Screw it.

He leads Princess by the shoulder, pushing her into the backseat of his car roughly. She lands against the leather seats with a squeal, before Steve is climbing in himself and locking the doors. He slams a hand against the window to brace himself, hovering over her body as he leaves open-mouthed kisses down her neck and over the tops of her breasts. They’re naked in minutes, grinding against each other. The car has fogged up, windows blocked out with condensation as Steve pushes his cock between Princess’ folds. Her leg is propped up over his shoulder, while the other hangs loosely against the driver’s seat. Steve can’t hear his own thoughts over the sounds of her wetness, which drives him to thrust into her harshly. She gasps at the full feeling, gripping the skin at her stomach as she bites back a moan.

“Where do you feel me? In your stomach?” She nods blissfully, combing her nails through Steve’s hair as he pounds in dick into her. “Does Daddy make you feel good?”

“Yeah. You do.” She whimpers, barely audible over the creakiness of the car. It shifts from side to side, surely drawing attention from outsiders. It excites Steve, the possibility of getting caught with Princess. He wraps his arms around her waist, groaning as she whispers dirty comments into his ear. “Look at you, daddy. Fuck, you love it. Can I cum, daddy?”

“No. Shit, no.” He shakes his head. Sweat accumulates on his forehead from how hot the car’s gotten, and he grunts loudly into Princess’ blue hair. “I’m so close. Wait for me.” Steve’s thrusts become sloppier each second, and she pushes the extra mile by clenching around him. “Go, cum. Fuck!”

Princess moans sinfully, hitting her head lightly against the door as she rubs at her clit. Steve pulls out of her pussy; she rolls onto the floor of the car gracefully, landing on her knees before she pumps Steve’s dick into her mouth. He holds onto her hair, careful not to tug too hard as he fucks her mouth. It’s messy - saliva everywhere, mascara running down her cheeks as she struggles to keep her tears under control.

With a look of approval, she lets him push her head down onto his cock, her nose brushes against his happy trail while she gags around him. Steve cums in her mouth, moaning at the lustful look that she was giving him. He pulls her up for one more kiss after she swallows his load, then collapses against the seat with ragged breaths. He’s quick to put his clothes back on, taking a glimpse at Princess with awestruck eyes as she followed his actions.

“Hey.” He nudges her arm. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to pee, Steve.” She snickers, glancing at the house that still held a party. “But I... I’ll come back.”

“Promise?”

She cups his cheek, wiping the lipgloss from his mouth. “I promise.”

Steve feels nothing but relief when he sees Princess come back to his car. He pulls her inside, scratching his eyebrow as she takes a seat beside him. The air smells of sex, and Steve resorts to rolling down the windows.

“Are you okay now?” He questions, staring outside.

“I will be.” She answers. The leather squeaks as she turns to face him, leaning against the door. “Are you okay?”

There’s no point in lying. Because based on how she began to study his face, Steve knows that she sees the bags under his eyes, and the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. With an exasperated sigh, Steve meets her stare.

“I don’t think so.” She listens earnestly. “I met this... this amazing girl. Her name’s Y/N. I doubt you’ve heard of her. She’s low profile around here.” He chuckles. “But, uh... I really like her. A lot. I haven’t met someone as - as breathtaking, and kind, and intelligent as her in a long time. She’s different, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“And, the thing is... I thought I knew her. I took her on countless dates - great dates, by the way. I’m a pro at dates. Dating professional, actually.”

“I’m sure of it.” She laughs, fixing the mask on her face. “God, sorry, I hate this thing.”

“Take it off then. I’d like a face to match the voice.” She glances away, peering at herself in the rearview mirror. Steve senses her uneasiness, so he moves to rub her thigh with a comforting tone. “I’m kidding. I just hope you haven’t glued it on.” Momentarily, they exchange laughter. “But I’d like to meet you one day. Really meet you. When you’re ready.” There’s a lingering gaze between them, before Steve continues swiftly. “Anyways, I’m taking Y/N on dates, then she tells me that - I guess that she was involved with someone before me. I got mad. I’m a fucking hypocrite because here I am, with you.”

He exhales shakily. “I’m jealous, too. Because someone as perfect as her could never be with someone as imperfect as me.” Princess opens her mouth, but Steve speaks before she can. “I know. I know it’s stupid to think like that, but damn. I can’t help it.”

“Not everyone’s perfect, Steve. I’m - I know that deep down Y/N feels the same way. I don’t know her, but as perfect as she makes herself out to be, she must have her vices, too.”

“I should talk to her.”

“She’d like that. I’m sure.”

A pinch of sadness wafts around the air, and Steve knows that it’s goodbye. If he really wanted to pursue you, he’d have to leave behind Princess.

He’s okay with that.

“I guess this is goodbye, then.” She smiles nostalgically.

“It is.”

Princess leans over, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of his head. “Bye, Steve.” She steps out of the car, carrying her boots as she heads the opposite direction.

Goodbye, Princess.

“You wanna talk?” You look up at Steve, who leans over your desk.

“After school. Not here.” He shakes his head, ignoring the way that your classmates were glaring at the two of you. “I’ll meet you at the bookstore. Your favorite place.”

Steve doesn’t even wait for your response. Suddenly, he’s hollering a big ‘screw this class!’ to Mr. Cortez as he bolts out of the classroom, leaving you there in your chair with wide eyes.

He wants to make it perfect for you - his apology, his sappy ass declaration of ‘emotion’ towards you. He’s rented out the whole bookstore, passing the clerk a couple hundreds as he waits for you to come. His head throbs with adrenaline, pacing around the store as he thinks of what to say to you.

You’re my perfect.

I think I love you.

“Shit, too soon.” He hits himself in the face with a book.

Hour.

After.

Hour.

You still aren’t here. Should Steve be freaking out? Were you going to flake on him again? He’s too busy panicking to hear the chiming bell by the door. He walks to the back of the store, banging his head against a shelf as he tries to calm himself down.

But when he turns around, he nearly faints.

“Princess? What are you-” She holds a finger up to his lips, before she slowly pulls it away from him when he is finally silent.

Stepping back, she inhales deeply.

Her hands move up to touch her blue wig. With a tug, she pulls it off. Her natural hair falls in waves against her shoulders, and she combs her hands through them lazily.

Steve’s eyes widen when she reaches around her head to untie the mask.

It clatters to the floor.

“Y/N.”

It all connects.

The voice, the movements, the mannerisms...

You’ve been behind the mask for this whole time.

“Hey, there.” You chuckle uneasily, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Y/N, you - I - Princess was - what?” He covers his mouth in shock, placing a free hand on his hip as he bites down on his knuckle.

“I’m sorry if... if I’m not who or what you expected.” You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest as you observe his features. “Steve? Are you mad?”

“No, I’m... I’m not mad.” He stares at you, mouth agape as you grab his hand. “I’m - it’s been you? This whole time?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it has.”

“Why?”

You wipe away your lipstick with the back of your sleeve. “I never told you about Billy because he knew my identity. I couldn’t let go of him because he would tell everyone about me - the real me.” You confess, feeling tears brim at your eyes. “I know this whole thing looks... looks awful. I wasn’t using you. Gosh, I hope I wasn’t using you, Steve. But fuck, you noticed me. The real me. I was too scared that you’d see all my flaws the more we got closer, and I thought that being Princess would save me from that hell.” You swallow, closing your eyes as Steve brings a hand up to hold your face. “You proved me wrong. Because someone as perfect as you ended up liking someone as imperfect as me.”

He wipes the tears from your face. “You know... you know that you’ve seen my dick, right? My actual, full-on, naked dick?”

“Steve!” You gasp, chuckling uncontrollably at his words.

“Y/N, I like you for who you are. Shit, I hope you realize that. Yeah, I did like Princess, but Y/N was a whole new level of breathtaking. I don’t care that you have flaws. We all do, remember? You told me that. And I lo - I like you for everything that you are. Whether you’re shy, or - or loud or quiet, whether you like bookstores over parties or whatever. I just wished you didn’t have to hide yourself from me. Princess or not, I would’ve fallen for you either way.”

“Really?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He whispers, leaning into you. “Princess was able to show me a good time, but Y/N is someone I want for a long time.”

He takes you by the chin, pressing his lips against yours for what felt like the first time again. How could he not have realized? The way your lips felt, how perfect they molded with his, the sweet taste of your gloss and how feathery your touch was against his skin. He should’ve known it was you. Steve moans into your mouth when you pull at his hair, and the kiss deepens when you slip your tongue into his mouth. He spins you around, slamming your back against the bookcase.

“I wanna see the real you, okay?” He murmurs into your collarbones, undoing the zipper of your jeans. You whine into his jaw, peppering his neck with hickeys.

He drops to his feet to pull down your panties. Steve lifts your legs up with ease, before his face is buried in your pussy. He laps at it, sucking on your clit and licking at your folds with expertise. You don’t shy away from moaning his name, yelping when he smacks his hand against your inner thigh to keep your legs apart. He pushes a finger inside you, smirking at how wet you always get because of him. He adds another digit, gasping at the wanton groan you let out when he uses his thumb to play with your clit.

“I love your fingers, daddy. Feels so good.” You place your hand on the back of his head, guiding him to the perfect spots. “I... Steve, fuck.”

“You gonna cum so soon? You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He stands up, still fingering you at a fast pace. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you began to see white spots in your vision. “Good girl. Look at you, angel.”

“Fuck me, please. I wanna make you feel good.” You beg him, whining as he quickly stepped out of his sweatpants. He tosses his shirt aside, licking his lips at how your nipples poked out through the thin fabric of your top. He laughs at the neediness in your voice, turning you around so that your tits were pressed against the bookcase.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. Every single time I see you like this...” He kisses your shoulder, pulling your hair into a ponytail. His eyes land on the butterfly tattoo on your neck. “My sweet princess.” Steve lubes up his cock with his spit, groaning at how painfully hard he is. “You’re okay?” He checks up on you, pushing the tip into your wet hole. You nod, moaning when he sinks in deeper.

Books begin to fall to the ground as Steve fucks you, holding you by your waist as he thrusts into you.

It feels better than before.

Princess was a great fuck, but you?

You were heaven itself. Despite how lustful you made him feel.

Steve cums at the same time as you do, grunting and moaning without shame as he emptied his load onto your back, where it dribbled onto the floor.

“That never gets old.” You giggle, breasts heaving as Steve turned you back around.

“You’re perfect.” Steve says, resting his forehead against yours.

“Thank you for everything, Steve.”

He stares into your eyes lovingly, glistening with nothing but pure adoration for you.

“Anything for my princess.”

4K notes · View notes

can-i-stay-awake · 4 years

Text

Flower Bouquet: Moonflowers (Seonghwa x Reader) Part 1

Warnings: Insomnia? We’re not far into that boat yet, my angels

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slow burn

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Spring’s warm breeze caresses your cheeks as you make your way to your school. You adjust the short sleeves of your summer uniform. You quite liked it. Crisp white school blouse with the very end of the sleeves lines with the same red tartan as your skirt and black tie. Though many of the female students chose to wear white knee highs, you couldn’t be bothered to shave this week so you wore black tights. To be honest, no one actually cared whether you shaved them or not but to you, it’s a matter of confidence. For such a rich school with rich or smart students gifted with scholarships, the people there aren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Of course there are the populars and whatnot but if ignored they ignore you. It’s really not your forte, speaking with people. You can’t say you’re introverted, but there’s no one who really connects to you.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve transferred here. Being a scholarship student is hard when all people care about it your money and looks… Or so you thought. After standing up for yourself to many various people and even publicly humiliating one of the most feared bullies in school, Kang Yeosang, you are neither glorified nor bullied. Though your classmates in English particularly enjoy your company to the point where you think you should just rename yourself, “Hey, what did you get for question six?”. You’ve only made friends with Yuna, a cute little (extremely tall) bespectacled girl whose potty mouth could possibly give sailors a run for their money.

“Y/n! Do you know what happened last weekend?” Yuna’s blonde hair dances in the light summer breeze. Her loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What happened, Yuna? Did a goat break through your garden fence?” You reply sarcastically, linking your arms together. Her warmth gives you a little comfort.

“No, I wish. I want a pet goat. My brother’s getting married!” Yuna’s gorgeous amber eyes have drops of sunlight swimming in them and you can’t help but smile.

“Oh? Tell him I said congratulations”

“Will do. I’ll also ask if he wants a goat” She flashes a cheeky grin.

“I don’t think he wants anymore goats in the house. You’re good enough” You snicker, squeezing her arm tighter after she punches you in the arm playfully. Your feet clatter against the pavement and you two cross the polished school entrance.

For you, school is more of a place to learn rather than a place to socialise. Unlike others, who use this school as a place for their popularity to thrive, you are among those who keep their heads down and only have a select few to mingle with. You met the bubbly blonde on your first day as she showed you the way to biology, her sassy sweet dual personality humoured you and you two immediately clicked. Sadly, Yuna is more of an artistic person and you only have English together. So instead of sticking together, you are forced to part.

The low hum of the biology teacher’s voice just barely reaches you, your hands scribble at your paper like you’re trying to win a war as you frantically note everything he says down. The scent of oranges fills the classroom. In a way, it’s how you feel at home in biology. Today the teacher is going especially fast with her notes. Pain ebbs at your wrists and you let your eyes wander around the classroom. They travel to the windows, the glass pane reflecting the light of the sun, then they travel to the colourful diagrams made by other classes and they finally fell on the neat, colour coded notes of your desk mate, Park Seonghwa.

His handwriting isn’t very special, but the way the letters are spaced out makes it look mature and refined. The dark haired boy even has a blue colour scheme: azure, cobalt and cyan dotted across the page framed by drawn on silver stars.

Truth be told, both you and Seonghwa are quite shy so the only conversation you’ve actually shared this week was when he didn’t have a pencil because he let Hongjoong borrow his. But you two know each other well and even have a few inside jokes. You two tried to hold a conversation about you two signing up to tutor struggling students but Wooyoung burst in screeching about god knows what. It’s not like you to blurt random things out but before you can stop yourself, you whisper in awe.

“Wow, your notes are super neat. You could put that on study gram…”

Seonghwa’s face visibly brightens from the praise, a smile briefly on his face before returning to his textbook. You never notice the faint rings under his eyes once his stops smiling. “Oh, thanks Y/n”

You were always a little curious about Park Seonghwa, but you never realised how intriguing he is. Little things like the way he acts all cute with Hongjoong to get his attention, and how he has nearly a motherly impact on even the outcasts like Kang Yeosang by letting him keep the black raincoat he was forced to borrow when you can see from the dark haired boy’s shoes that they are a little beaten up. Of course, since he’s so organised, no one even notices the way he secretly calculates his lunch money instead of just pressing his card on the scanner. You too, are practically broke but you can afford decent shoes without worrying about the price. These little things that tend to slip other’s minds are tattooed into your eyesight, highlighted in fluorescent colours.

A few days later, once again in biology, his complexion looks seedy and tired. His skin is dull and the charismatic glow in his voice is jaded. Throughout the week, he becomes progressively more scatterbrained. Like that time in computing science when he dropped his earphones and bashed his head on the upside of his computing desk while trying to retrieve it, and the time he literally forgot his pencil case. The teachers look concerned and it’s quite evident they’ve already checked up on him only to be faced with a half assed reassuring smile.

“Jesus, Seonghwa looks like a mess… I feel bad for the poor guy.” Yuna exclaims, “He’s running for student council president but if he’s like this, he’ll faint dead away. Should I check up on him?” You two watch him practically sleepwalking to his form room, his footsteps dragging and hands rubbing at his eyes. Yuna has an eye for these things too, perhaps she’s not as attentive as you, but definitely more than most.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of doing just that. He’s a zombie.”

Two days pass and Seonghwa looks a little better after Hongjoong practically forced him to sleep, threatening to throw confetti at him which he had brought from the art room. You’ve been trying to find the right time since you can’t just go, “Oh hi, you look like shit. Are you good?” And biology seems too far away for you to communicate, but you decide to wait until then. But somehow, it’s like the gods placed the keys right in your hands and shoved you towards him when you meet him in the supermarket. You buy two packets of strawberries, one for yourself and another for Seonghwa. He smiles at you but his face is now painted over with thick coats of fatigue and the concern probably shows on your face because he stifles a yawn.

“Hey” You greet him, queuing behind him in the long ass line you wish would just move already.

“Hi, Y/n. How have you been doing?”

“Good, you?”

“Good” It’s hard to continue a conversation like this, but you stubbornly press on. Seonghwa looks tired but he’s not facing away from you either and you’ve got his full attention. “Really? You’ve been looking rough nowadays. You should take care of your health. Don’t you always nag Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho about the exact same thing?”

“Oh, how do you know that?” He fakes surprise, trying to steer the topic away from him. You can’t pressure him to say he’s not fine, but you sigh.

“Yuna and Hongjoong are friends. You did hear what I said, right? Take care of your health” You nag and he pouts.

“I am, Y/n. It’s just the election is stressing me out a little.” His eyes swerve to the bottom left, an obvious lie.

“Alright, but I can help you with it. Okay? You’re a literal zombie nowadays. Even our English teacher realised that you’re not in good spirits, and she’s more oblivious and air headed than a four year old”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll take care of myself” He giggles, you can see the colour rising in his cheeks after a light hearted conversation. You’re not really that good with words, but if it makes him feel better, you’ll gladly do so.

The line progresses, and he lets you go first. Scanning the two boxes of strawberries and placing one in your schoolbag. You wait outside for the boy to scan various groceries and sweets and as he approaches the doorway you stop him.

“Seonghwa”

He turns around, the orange light of the evening sun blazing in his eyes. His dark hair dances in the wind.

“Take this” You hand him the box of strawberries and he’s lost for words, blushing and stammering.

It’s cute.

Very cute.

“Y/n, I r-really can’t take this! It’s yours!” He tries to hand it back to you but you firmly press the transparent container to his chest.

“Yeah, well I accidentally took two. This one’s for Yuna” You shake the bag you’re holding in your right hand. “I don’t like strawberries anyway”

His gaze is skeptical but he smiles sweetly and thanks you profusely. “Sure… Thank you so much Y/n! I’ll pay you back somehow, kay?”

“Park Seonghwa, you pay me back I break your back” You bark, but you let out a small laugh and he does too.

“Gosh, I ought to hire bodyguards” The light that Seonghwa’s eyes hold is so vibrant not even the milky way could hold a candle to the sparkles swimming in his warm gaze. “Thank you again, Y/n” He yells as he walks away from you.

“No problem, have a nice day and make sure to get some sleep” You holler back. As you make your way back home, your heart bubbles and fizzes like the drinks you see Mingi consume on a daily basis.

That night, you sleep well. No emptiness, no gaping void, no nightmares.

Just the comfort of your bed in the sea of your blankets.

It’s too bright this morning, too pretty with the flowers decorating the school entrance, too ethereal with the honey glow of the sun kissing your skin. Though it’s a little too hot, you keep a mini fan in your school bag and sunscreen to prevent anyone from dying.

“Hey, Yuna! I gave Seonghwa a box of strawberries after I met him in the grocery shop!”

“And good morning to you too” Yuna raises a brow, her eyes no longer framed by glasses but the faint outline of her contact lenses over her irises. She grins as you hand her a box. “For me?”

“For you” You smile as you two walk to school together.

“Hey! He looks better today!” You nudge her excitedly as you see the tall, handsome boy massaging red headed Hongjoong’s shoulders, exclaiming about how stiff he is. Though his energy isn’t up to 100%, you’re happy that he’s improving.

Or so you think.

“Seonghwa! Your votes are nearly taking the lead!” Yunho exclaims as they check the little website Wooyoung composed for the student council election.

“Oh? That’s nice” Yunho furrows his brow at Seonghwa’s nonchalant attitude.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to faint…” Yunho steadies the smaller of the two in his chair. Seonghwa giggles.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Yunho. I’ll go to the nurse’s if I’m not feeling great” He smiles, exhausted.

The brunet narrows his eyes, “Sure… I’m getting someone to check up on you, I have a meeting in the art club. Don’t move” Yunho rushes out the doorway only to meet you, on your phone checking your emails.

“Y/n, Seonghwa looks like he’s going to pass out. Could you keep an eye on him, please?”

“You don’t need to do that! I’m fine!” Seonghwa yells from the classroom but his voice is groggy, “and you definitely don’t need to do anything!” You look at Yunho, nodding and entering the classroom.

“Enjoy art club Yun-”

Thump.

You and Yunho pause to see an unconscious Seonghwa sliding sideways off of his chair and onto the floor. His hair flying to one side and his eyes fluttering shut.

“Shit!” You dash to Seonghwa side and Yunho calls out his name. “We should get him to the nurses!”

Yunho nods and you raise his legs into Yunho’s arms until the brown haired boy stabilises his grip on Seonghwa, still knocked out. You open the doors for Yunho as he dashes to the nurses, you feel agony shoot through your heart like an arrow when you see the elder’s head lolling in Yunho’s embrace. The students around you clear a pathway, murmurs filling your ears and looks of concern covering your vision.

The nurse, who everyone calls Minnie, puts Seonghwa in a comfortable position on entering, you realise Hongjoong already there gasping for breath. He probably caught wind of Seonghwa fainting and dashed to the office.

“Sorry kids, only one of you can stay. It’s better not to startle Mr. Park.” Minnie’s soft voice soothes everyone’s panic. Even Hongjoong’s posture is slightly more relaxed, you've never seen him without his overly perfect stance and you're reminded that perhaps the redhead isn't as studious as he comes across. Yunho nods, rushing off to the art club, Hongjoong looks longingly over his shoulder as he leaves.

”I’ll stay.” You announce. Nurse Minnie nods and pulls over a chair for you adjacent to Seonghwa’s freshly made bed. After opening a window and letting the breeze sway the curtains, you settle in and sit beside Seonghwa. His curls are splayed out on his pillow in such a disorganised but perfect way.

”Y/n..?” A voice deep with fatigue calls out to you and you have to restrain yourself from jumping up to the call.

”Seonghwa...” Is all you can say as he groans and shuffles his pillows. You give him a glass of water and colour bleeds back into his face.

”Hey.” He smiles, rubbing at his eyes.

”Is that all you can say when you've practically overworked yourself to the point of fainting?” You manage to keep your voice soft but you know he can hear the pout in your voice. ”Hwa...” Gently cupping one hand around his wrist, you see concealer on the finger he used to rub his eye with. You look back up at his face and a hint of dark circles are more evident on his porcelain face.

”I should get better concealer... Don't look at me like that, your expression looks like a cat eating a lemon, down to a cinch.” He chuckles but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. The aroma of citrus (with a hint of candy) fills the room. It reminds you of biology class and you realise the scent is coming from him.

“What do you even do? And why does it get in the way of your sleep? Is it insomnia?” You try to coax an answer from him, but you know you can only go far. “You don’t need to tell me, but it might help to tell someone” Seonghwa grins, sinking further into his covers.

“You don’t need to worry about me” He whispers, and you see his legs adapt the fetal position.

“But I do, because you’re my friend.”

“Am I?” Seonghwa’s dark eyes are once again all a-glimmer, his eyebrows are raised in surprise. It’s as if you’ve offered him a lifetimes supply of strawberries.

You stop yourself from doubling over and giggling, perhaps you understand why girls and boys alike look at Seonghwa the way they do. His calm and cool demeanour is alluring but those rare times where he opens up is what pulls you in. “Of course” You smile, and perhaps the blush dusted on Seonghwa cheeks isn’t a hallucination.

“If you really want to know, I’m busy looking after my younger cousins, Jihyo and Daehyun. My siblings and parents are barely home.”

“Seonghwa...” Concern once again bleeds into your face but the latter interjects before it settles.

“They’re super adorable though! And well behaved! It’s nothing to worry about” But one look at the dark patches under his eyes tell you otherwise.

“If you’re fainting due to exhaustion, it is a big deal”

“It was super hot today though, it could have been because of that” His long fingers run through his hair and it falls perfectly back into place. You’re tempted to ask what shampoo he uses but you snap out of it. “Seonghwa. Do you want me to help?”

“Help? It’s not a big deal!”

“If I bought Hongjoong here-“ You could see in his expression that he was awaiting Hongjoong’s nagging ever since you told him that Hongjoong and Yunho brought him here.

“No! Fine... He’ll nag my ear off” Red lips form a pout, his head drops. “He talks for so long that he ends up repeating everything he says and if you try and argue he starts all over again”

“I know. Remember when Jongho sprained his ankle playing basketball?” Hongjoong’s normally quiet and composed voice thundered throughout the hallways so loudly even the teachers dared not to intervene.

“Exactly, I’ll die. You don’t want me to die, do you y/n?” Seonghwa looks up at you and uses the type of gaze you give teachers when you want to skip PE. He pouts even harder and when you grumble, he giggles.

“I’m still coming over. If you’re not well rested by the time I’m finished playing with your cousin I’m moving in” Though these are jokes you usually pull with closer friends, something about your relationship with Seonghwa connects. You feel your presence calming him down and his soothing the creases on your brow.

“I got it” He giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. ”When are you free? I'm free all week, including today”

”Hmm, I have to help out Hongjoong with student council shit today... Is it alright if I come tomorrow?”

”Sure! I'm positive Jihyo will enjoy some company. Daehyun is a little older and introverted, but she's tired looking after her younger sister too. We can look after them together” That’s not your plan, but you nod and smile.

After school that next day, you wait for Seonghwa outside the gates. Unlike the cute, laid back persona he adapted in the nurse’s office the other day, his posture is perfect and his movements as elegant as a swan. It’s a facade, but a natural one that doesn’t stem from bad pasts. It’s just Seonghwa.

You like ‘just Seonghwa’.

”Y/n!” He waves and you wave back as his feet pick up the pace. ”Hey” He looks a little brazen, and you wonder if Hongjoong’s nagged him for returning to school beforehand.

”Hey Seonghwa! Did you stay in the nurse’s office or did you go to class yesterday? I didn’t see you leave”

”I had French. What do you think?” Seonghwa loathes his French teacher, who always makes loud noises and is way too animated and not focused enough on teaching. Seonghwa says that he seems like a nice person but he's not good enough of a teacher. You've yet to meet this man but you'd rather not if he ”has an attention span of a seven-year-old on a sugar high”. You two have some small talk until you reach his neighbourhood. ”Y/n, we need to be super careful. This isn't a good area.” He looks embarrassed and you try to wipe the anxious look on his face.

”I live pretty nearby, don’t worry. No fear! I have a death stare stronger than... I don’t know, who has really good death stare game?”

“Medusa?” He chuckles.

“Medusa!” You giggle and you spot the tips of his ears flush.

“I don’t have that much of an intimidating stare-“ Seonghwa is interrupted by a loud cat call in your direction, something about how your cute uniform would look cuter on the floor. “Fuck off!” He yells and the man is about to square up until you both shoot him a warning glare. You clutch the hockey stick in your hand you carry for PE and he leaves.

“I’ve never heard you curse before...” The Seonghwa you know is always poised and perfect, a gentle aura follows his wake as an ethereal glow does with an angel. He’s the one that whacks Wooyoung and San over the head with a rolled up chemistry booklet whenever they let a few foul words pass so you’d never imagine that kind of language. It was yet another side of Park Seonghwa you’ve just discovered.

“I’ve never seen you with such a face before...” You two both start laughing. He pulls out his phone and types frantically at his keyboard. Something motherly and caring lingers on his face as he picks up the phone and loving asks whom you presume is Daehyun, to be careful on the bus home.

“Aww, what a caring brother”

Seonghwa flashes a painful smile your way. It’s one of the cutest things about him, you think. “She’s a scatterbrain. I can’t let her out of my sight! Little sisters are a handful I swear”

You laugh at the overly exaggerated pout and huff that graces his features.

“Oh, how’s the student council election going?” Seonghwa brushes his hair back with one hand and nervously chuckles.

“I’m second place, but Hongjoong is pretty far ahead. I don’t actually mind very much. I just thought it would look good on my resume. Hongjoong is more the leader type, but if I’m being honest, I don’t think he wants to be elected” His eyes met yours and you admire the emotional intellect he holds to see past Hongjoong’s quiet and distant mask. He’s very extroverted when people come up to him, but whenever he’s alone you think that there’s a different world he sees through those starry eyes.

“Oh? Why so?”

Seonghwa’s walking pace slows a little, “It’s a guess, but Hongjoong’s parents seem to pressure him a lot. His grades, to be exact. Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe he has super nice parents. But I don’t think that’s likely” His gaze is downcast and pity pangs at your heart.

“Oh no...” You look at your black polished shoes and the flutter of your skirt as the grey pavement moves along with your footfalls.

“All families have at least something to deal with. Some problems bigger than others” The two of you exit the dark alleyway into a block of Tennant flats and he fumbles for his keys as you cross the third one. “Where are you going, Y/n?” He chuckles as you accidentally pass the red door to his house.

“Ah! Whoops! I went to the direction of my house by mistake!” You chuckle and wait patiently for him to unlock the door. A pastel yellow chick key charm swings as the silver of his keys shine in the streetlights. ”Cute charm”

Seonghwa blushes. ”Oh, Daehyun got matching ones for us at a school festival. It's totally unlike her too, she's kind of well... See for yourself, she's probably home by now”

The creak of the doorway makes you want to oil it right away but you stay put. Seonghwa takes his somehow unscratched and polished shoes on the mat and you do. “Sorry, I tried to clean but it’s a bit messy”

Pearly white sofas blessed your vision, not a single hair nor stain defacing it, the oak floor gleamed like water in the sunlight. The marble dining table sparkled, an equally clean vase where a single (artificial) pink rose sat. In baskets suspended by chains by the windows, there lay a few moonflowers nearly in bloom. The furniture isn’t very expensive, perhaps a little more than outside your budget, but the pristine perfect polishing made the place look like a palace.

“Messy? What’s clean to you?” You gasp in astonishment as he leads you to the living room where a blonde girl and a dark haired toddler sat.

“Hey, Daehyun. Hiya, Jihyo! How was school?” Seonghwa’s loving tone changes to a cooing, sweet one when addressing Jihyo. Jihyo runs into Seonghwa’s arms and he lifts her up, giggling. She replies with something about finger painting.

Daehyun’s blank gaze turns to you, a hint of curiosity in her eye. She waves at you calmly and you return it. “Hey, Daehyun, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Hi, Y/n. Can I call you that?”

“You can call me anything unless it’s “lady hand me down”, I’ve heard that so many times I’m ready to go on a killing spree” You joke, and Daehyun smiles slightly.

“Jihyo, this is Y/n. We can all play together!” Seonghwa giggles in his sing-song-y drawl. He puts her down and her brown eyes shift to you, assessing you in a little kid way before giggling.

“Hiya! I’m Jihyo~” She lisps, her words slightly broken but adorable all the same. You coo and crouch down to give her a high five.

“How was school, Dae?” Seonghwa turns to the middle child, who huffs in annoyance.

“They never serve the good food. If I die of food poisoning, I’m suing them. They ruined salmon for me” You expect Seonghwa to chuckle, but he looks dead serious as he rolls his white sleeves up.

“That’s abuse. Shouldn’t they give you good food so that you can learn better? What non edible junk do they give you? How bad does it taste that it ruined salmon for you?” Daehyun replies with a gagging noise and they chuckle. You stare at her for a little, Daehyun is a lot like Seonghwa. Cold exterior, warm interior. Perhaps even colder than him, but easy to thaw.

Jihyo waddles up to you after retrieving something from her vibrant pink toy box in the corner. “Blocks?”

“You wanna play with them, Jihyo?” Seonghwa asks, his lips are upturned in a huge dorky grin and you feel your heart melt at the sight.

“Seonghwa, you are to rest” You order in what you hope is an authoritative tone.

It isn’t.

“Seonghwa, you are to rest” He mocks your high pitches tone and pinches your nose. “Heard this from Hongjoong, not from you, please!” He pouts but you, though it takes a lot of willpower, don’t give in.

“Nope, go to bed”

“Y/n, will I have to go to bed!?” Jihyo pouts, and you wonder if it runs in the family.

“Not you, angel” You smile softly.

Daehyun looks up from her chemistry textbook and sighs, “Go. To. Sleep. Seonghwa. Or. I’ll-”

Seonghwa jolts and rushes across the room, the action reminding you of the Angry Birds slingshot animation and covers her mouth, face red and fuming. ”Daehyun, you better not blab” He squeaks and Daehyun blinks, his hand still over her mouth.

“Then sleep, dumbass. Take some rest, or else I’ll knock you out” Her muffled voice makes you laugh a little.

“Isn’t that normal sibling stuff? You know, dumb threats?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen in seriousness, “No, I swear, she actually means it sometimes. She once put a sleeping pill in my milk, the snake”

“I did” Daehyun’s comically monotone voice back him up, her eyes not once leaving her book.

“I should have you arrested” He jokes and she smirks, “But I shouldn’t leave a guest here alone. It’s bad manners”

“I came here so you could rest, Hwa. Please take some rest.” You tell him. Seonghwa looks troubled and he sighs.

“I’ll still be in this room to check up on you guys. But thanks” His looks a little stressed but after you make Jihyo laugh. Perhaps it’s the wave of relief the he feels, but the atmosphere in the room brightens, the orange hue of the evening sunshine painting streaks across your faces.

Jihyo is extremely energetic, but when she sees you try to stifle a yawn, she lets out a concerned squeak. “Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap?” She asks, and you find it amazing how such a young child can read your emotions so well.

“I’m alright, Jihyo, angel”

“Why do you call me that?” She stutters in her cute drawl.

“Yeah, have you seen the Biblical versions of them?” Daehyun jokes, somehow managing to hear you from her electric blue headphones.

“Well, angels are very cute. And they bring happiness to people!”

“My mommy says all I bring her is-“ Seonghwa, who you thought was asleep, suddenly sits up from the couch and coughs. Jihyo is silenced immediately.

“Please, excuse us” The dark haired boy picks up his young cousin and leads her to the side room to your left. His expression isn’t angry, but worried.

You have a gut feeling that perhaps Jihyo had no choice but to observe the emotions of the people surrounding her.

Daehyun’s growls under her breath.

“Is everything alright? Y-you don’t need to tell me, I don’t mean to meddle-“

“No, it’s fine. It’s just that our Auntie isn’t very nice. Me and Seonghwa just have busy parents, but Jihyo’s mum isn’t... Fit to be a parent” Her voice his still expressionless, not a hint of pity. She sounded as if she were giving a presentation. But her fists are clenched by he side. “Poor kid. She doesn’t know that her mum’s an asshole. She just thinks it’s how people show love. She’s only been here for a month or so, so Seonghwa and I are trying to help her out”

“Family is... A sensitive subject, huh? Is there even such thing as a perfect family like in the movies?” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Daehyun nods.

“Nope, don’t think so”

You feel the happy, cheerful morale drop into the pit of the earth as Seonghwa and Jihyo exit the room. Seonghwa looks more shaken than the surprisingly cheerful girl holding his hand.

“Dae, you don’t mind watching her for a little bit right? Call me if you need anything” He suddenly pulls you up and takes an umbrella out of the store cupboard by the shoe rack of his doorway.

“Kay, go” Daehyun hops off of the couch to watch TV with Jihyo on the couch, cuddling her as if she were a glass ornament rather than a four year old girl.

The choir of raindrops hitting the pavement of Seonghwa’s street resonates with your footsteps. He coughs awkwardly to break the silence.

“It was weird for you, right? I’m sorry” He mutters. Green cloth shoots into the sky and spreads its wings like a butterfly. He holds the strongly viridescent coloured umbrella above your heads, inching closer in order to share.

“What? No! Never! It’s totally fine! These things happen, Seonghwa. They shouldn’t, but they do. I just hope she’s okay”

A trace of anger seeps into his deep brown pupils. “I try to tell her. To re-teach here that she’s not responsible for her mother’s behaviour, but she doesn’t get it. She think Auntie loves her”

“Oh dear”

“Please... Don’t mention this to any-“

“No, no! I would never! But Seonghwa, you shouldn’t have the burden of unravelling Jihyo’s tangled threads. You’re tired already. You and Daehyun shouldn’t be the ones to do that”

Grief and pity washes upon him, and it trickles into his words like water from a slightly cracked glass bottle. “Dae shouldn’t, I agree. But if I don’t, who will?”

“Can’t you speak to your parents?”

“They’re stressed and busy-“

“They’re family, Seonghwa. Their occupation doesn’t hold a candle to their own family, let alone children” Your stern voice makes him sigh, and you hold the oak handle of the umbrella with him.

“Not all families are like that, Y/n... But I can’t say my family is one of them. But should I stress them out? They don’t know my Aunt is like this. At all.” His warm hands slightly overlap with yours as he re-adjusts his grip on his umbrella. You feel heat creeping up your cheeks, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Seonghwa turn away but not fast enough to cover his pink dusted cheeks.

“Don’t you think it would be better for Jihyo if a therapist helped her out?” You feel his breath causing a ripple of movement in your hair. The sun bleeds through the cracks left by the grey clouds, but they are barely enough to let the city bask in its glory.

“You’re right. I didn’t think about it that way. How idiotic am I?”

“You’re not” You stare him dead in the eye, the sincerity of your tone even taking you aback.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We’re not supposed to know everything, you know? She’s only been here for a month, according to Daehyun, so it’s a lot to take in” Seonghwa’s pinky brushes against the back of palm, before positioning his hand over your own. He squeezes it.

“Thank you, Y/n. I think I really needed to hear that”

You two go back inside.

The choir of the rain is mixed with your footsteps and the thump of your heartbeat.

And as Seonghwa edges nearer to take his shoes off, you hear his own rapid thumps.

“Jihyo loves me so much, don’t you, cupcake?” Seonghwa cooes as she crawls onto Seonghwa lap.

“D-Dae” She squeals, pushing Seonghwa’s head down so she can crawl over his head to get to Daehyun, who is sitting behind him. He looks betrayed and flashes a painful smile at you.

“Nah, you’re just a stepping stone to him. Isn’t he, Jihyo?” Jihyo giggles and snuggles up to Daehyun, who puts her phone aside and taps her nose.

“She’s a baby” You coo, pinching her cheeks.

“Yeah, a baby. I love babies... But this one thinks I’m a stepping stone” Seonghwa pouts playfully.

“You both have a pouting tendency. Watch a bee doesn’t sting you on the lip” You tease and Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“A bee would be honoured to die kissing my lips” He flips his hair in a nonchalant manner but then proceeds to cringe. “I’ve been hanging around San and Mingi for too long”

Daehyun gags. “Never flirt with your crush like that, they’ll get so shook they’ll migrate planets” Jihyo chuckles along with everyone. “Oh, the results of the election are coming out next month, no?”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t want to win though. Too much trouble” Seonghwa ruffles Jihyo’s hair.

“Y/n, why didn’t you run? You’re a model student, you could have won!”

Poor Seonghwa must be oblivious to the fangirls surrounding him and Hongjoong left and right. You wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Uhh, yeah no. Not my thing. I like receiving orders, not giving them. I’m not the leader type”

Seonghwa pulls a face, “Me neither. Hongjoong is though. Maybe if he stopped daydreaming once in a while, he’d realise that. Though if he doesn’t want to be a part of the Student Council, he can be leader of the Art club. The person currently running is leaving”

“Art club?” Hongjoong had never seemed like the artistic type to you. But then again, you didn’t go to the same classes as him except Maths.

“Yeah, Hongjoong is really good at art. He can do all these weird things with glass. He made that bird for me over there!” Seonghwa points to the display case beside the television, there sat a cerulean glass blue bird. It looks very well done, with the feathers etched in and the beak perfectly shaped.

“Don’t pull my leg, really?” It looked good enough to sell for quite a lot on a website. Hongjoong could start a business.

“Yes, really!” He laughs his signature laugh, airy and gentle, and you nearly burst. If you didn’t realise you liked Seonghwa, you sure did now. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, no. It’s alright!” You say, but a hiccup follows. Seonghwa chuckles and gets up.

“Water it is then” He waddles into the kitchen, with Jihyo clinging to his leg. “Anything you want, Angel?” He struggles to deal with her weight.

“C-cookies, Hwa” Seonghwa winces at the puppy eyes before him.

“Not now, angel. You need to have room for dinner” Jihyo grumbles but then points at a bunch of grapes.

“Wow! What species of toddler is she?” You joke as she hugs a plastic bowl filled with green grapes and goes up on her tiptoes to place it on the marble table. You’ve never met such a pliant kid before and it shocks you to the core.

“An angel, aren’t you, Jihyo?” The taller of the two picks her up so she can push it further into the centre of the table.

“Yay! Angel!” She giggles.

“Daehyun? Are you hungry?” Seonghwa turns to the blonde, she nods a simple no.

“Should we watch a movie?” Daehyun asks. “We got that DVD set last week, didn’t we?”

“Oh, yeah! Your call, Y/n” Seonghwa flashes a charming smile at you and you fumble for words.

“S-sure! Jihyo can choose” Jihyo giggles in delight and hops to the box set as Daehyun sets it out.

“Why is this so deep?” Seonghwa whines, trying to bat away the tears forming in his eyes. You feel your heart shattering even though he isn’t actually that affected by Piggy being killed by the rock.

“Oh no! Don’t cry, we’ll all start crying” You plead, fanning them away. You wonder why Jihyo chose something as morbid as “Lord of the Flies” but she seems rather content with the gore.

“I won’t cry. I’ll laugh” Daehyun nudges Seonghwa playfully and Seonghwa gets up to chase her.

“Brat!”

“Oh, boo hoo. Go cry about it”

The entire evening is spent giggling and joking. You think it’s been the best evening in your life.

“Ah, Y/n!”

It’s been a few weeks since Seonghwa hung out with you. Ever since then, you two have been talking to each other more often like during breaks and after school activities. Along with Hongjoong and Yunho, you two have been carrying out duties and solving problems together.

“No, I didn’t get three for question five” You sigh and turn around, to Seonghwa, who pokes you in the cheek with the back of his pen. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t think you said that”

“I’ve been asked that too. I got 37”

“Me too!” That gave you the reassurance that you got the question right.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to have some bubble tea out in the city for lunch? Just a little thank you for looking after Jihyo again this weekend” He goes a little pink but on his face is a flirty smirk you’ve never seen before. It makes you want to sink under the table and squeal.

“Sure, but I think I should thank you for intruding”

“No, I should thank you for helping me out again this week” You reply. The sunlight bursting through the window paints Seonghwa’s complexion, making him look even more devilishly handsome, his dark hair threaded with locks of gold.

“We’ll be here all day. Just say yes” He flicks at your forehead gently and you smack his shoulder. “Don’t skip PE, Y/n. Jihyo is stronger than you and she failed.”

“Fine. And do you want me to show you real strength, Park Seonghwa?” You both laugh, and the teacher gives you two a warning glare.

“No, I swear! Pigeons are FBI robots!” You exclaim, and Seonghwa sniggers.

“So you’re saying if I kill one pigeon’s friends and family it won’t die of depression?” Another shit eating grin forms on his face. It’s so hot you wonder why the ice in your drink hasn’t melted yet, let alone Antarctica thawing.

“You monster” You playfully pout. A few friends have told you you’ve been hanging out with him too much because you’ve picked up his habits.

Seonghwa bats his eyelashes, “Moi? I’m an angel”

“Sure...” Seonghwa’s eyes suddenly light up, pulsating with mischievous intent.

“Hongjoong managed to fall asleep in the changing room. Look, I took a picture” Seonghwa wheezes as he unlocks his phone and shows you a picture of the dark haired boy with his eyes fluttered shut and mouth slightly parted.

“Jesus, no one should be allowed to look that pretty while sleeping” You blurt out in awe. The boy in front of you scoffs.

“He was drooling, idiot. Anyhow, I’m way more charming than Hongjoong” Seonghwa tries to play it cool, raising his eyebrows and winking but you can sense the jealousy bubbling up within him.

“Jealous?” You snicker, taking a spoonful of the strawberry decorated cake. The sweetness melts in your mouth, along with the fruity tang of the strawberries.

“No!” He laughs, a little too loudly that the cafe barista looks at him, her pretty doe eyes widened in shock. The boy then clears his throat and proceeds to continue his conversation. “I’m not jealous- Oh, hold on” Seonghwa moves in a little closer to brush off the whipped cream on the corner of you lips. The rough pads of his fingers gliding across the skin of your lips. He smoothly licks it off of his fingers and you both go red after the realisation of what he did.

“Ah, thanks”

“No problem” He coughs awkwardly. You check the time and tell him that it’s probably a good idea that you two head back to classes. Seonghwa nods, and as you two walk down the road he gently pulls you in by the waist as a car goes by.

“Are you okay? Ugh, drivers” Seonghwa scoffs, and squeezes your waist and then releases you.

“Hwa!” You dare say that he’s getting bolder nowadays as both of you have realised your feelings for each other. But instead of blowing the candle out directly, you’re both gently waving at the flickering flame.

“Sorry” He giggles, and you know he doesn’t mean it. “Come to this side” He swaps places with you so that he is on the side of the road closer to cars zooming past.

“Thanks, Seonghwa”

“No problem. Oh goodness the election results are coming out in a few days and I really regret running for it now! I’m so nervous”

You squeeze his upper arm, “Relax. I’m sure you’ll do a great job even if you win. I’ll be here to help out and I’m sure Yunho and the others will be glad to as well” Seonghwa’s eyes return to their normal, bright and sparkly sheen.

“Really?” His voice holds the innocence of a four year old, despite his deep and elegant drawl.

“Really”

That night, you can feel Seonghwa’s restlessness from blocks away. The silence of the night drives you up the wall and you pull out your phone. Is it the election?

You: You awake?

You don’t expect an answer, you shouldn’t. But your face lights up at the sudden green bubble indicating that he’s online popping up immediately.

Hwa: No, I’m asleep ;p

You: Alright, well when you wake up remember that I’m cheering for you! <3

Hwa: shdufyyfipiueouriguu

You: ?

Hwa: Sorry my fongers were beingg dimb

Hwa: *Fingers

Hwa: *Being

Hwa: *Dumb

You: Lmao, go to sleep you nonce.

Hwa: Nonce? Meanie :(

You: I don’t trust people who use those weird keyboard emojis. Use your phone ones like a normal person lmao

Hwa: Hello, Childline? I would like to report a case of child abuse. This individual has called me a “nonce” and is now choosing to insult my emojis! Harry Potter and the Audacity of this Cutie

Hwa: JHsudhsdyduyfisuyfuyfuyfuyufisu

You: Aww, thanks 😊

Your heart accelerates. Of course, after you and Seonghwa started hanging out more, he was more flirty and bold but you’ve never seen him become flustered before. He’s called you a baby and addresses you very endearingly. But is this sleep deprived Seonghwa embarrassed? It’s adorably funny to you.

Hwa: soodjjSOFFOJJFIJNFJJFI

Hwa: Damn it.

Hwa: I’m way too sleep deprived to play it cool

You: Should I send you an ASMR video? It helps me sleep sometimes

Hwa: Really? That would be great

Hwa: Excuse me, wait a second. Why are you awake?

You: Insomnia, ran out of pills.

Hwa: Poor thing :(

Hwa: Do you have a 24 hour pharmacy near you? I’m sure there’s one down the road and we don’t live far apart.

You: DKM STOP USING THOSE CURSED EMOJIS

You: And idk, it’s dangerous for me to walk at night. Even with my hockey stick lolol

Hwa: Where do you live? I’m coming

You: Seonghwa! No! It’s alright! I can stay awake

Hwa: Then I’ll stay awake with you <3

You: You don’t need to.

Hwa: I would have forced you to sleep, but Joong has insomnia and I kinda get that it’s hard

Hwa: So if you can’t sleep, ping me~

You: “Ping me” lmao

You: Thank you though.

You: You do so much for me. You know that? Like, whenever I feel like shit, you’re there.

You: Do you read my mind, Seonghwa?

Hwa: I’m glad I’m able to be here for you. At first I felt like I was had to so I could pay you back. But now it comes naturally. I don’t really click with people, but I can with you.

Hwa: Don’t get me wrong, I’m only here because I want to be. I like taking care of you and I’m thankful you do the same.

Hwa: Just seeing you makes me happy

You: I feel the exact same way, Hwa.

You: You make everything so warm and happy. It’s your presence and I get along with you so well!

You: I know you said it already, but please don’t feel indebted to take care of me, Seonghwa. I too, do it because I sincerely care about you.

You: I love yo|

Your fingers dash across the screen, but another sky blue text bubble makes your heart drop, the adrenaline building up in you blowing out in a sad puff.

Hwa: I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. Getting a call.

“Seonghwa... I don’t want to do this anymore” The latter’s stomach and heart hurl up and down at the chocked voice, probably crying through the phone.

“Hongjoong? Talk to me” Seonghwa tries to keep his voice steady and attempts to clear his mind and analyse the rise and fall of his voice and the tone. He wants to see Hongjoong face to face. That’s the best way he can read people, with their expressions. But he knows that Hongjoong doesn’t dare show his face while he’s crying, a rarity.

“The... The election... It was my parents who made me do it. Seonghwa... Seonghwa I can’t do this anymore” Hongjoong sobs, his clear voice murky with sleep and sadness. Seonghwa feels his own eyes fill up but he swipes them away.

“Focus on Hongjoong” He hisses to himself mentally.

“Hongjoong, your parents can’t dictate what you do or not. If you feel pressured and they don’t listen, you have to do something”

“I know! But what? Who’s going to help me? What if I get kicked out? My parents might still love me if I rebel, but I don’t want to take that gamble. Seonghwa... What do I do?”

Seonghwa bites his nail. For once, Seonghwa doesn’t know what to do. It makes him feel helpless that someone is hurting, especially if that someone is a friend. Hongjoong isn’t the type of person to be very in touch with his emotions, and seeing his glass mask shatter breaks him apart too.

“Hongjoong, you do what you think is right. And if you don’t know what is, then ask someone who knows. I’m sorry, Hongjoong, but I don’t know what to do. But you can always talk to me. I’ll always be here for you, Hongjoong”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If they kick you out, I’ll find you a place to stay”

Seonghwa hears Hongjoong crumpling down, “I don’t want to be abandoned” It feels like a spear through the chest hearing his torn voice.

“I know, sweetheart. No one does. But if you feel like that’s what you have to do, you have to remember that there are people who will always accept you. I will, Yunho will, Y/n will, Wooyoung will. Forever”

“But they’re my parents. They’re supposed to be here for me!”

“Joong...”

“Can’t I ever please them?”

“I’m sorry, Hongjoong, I don’t think I can answer that” Seonghwa whimpers quietly, trying to reply tactfully.

“Seonghwa, I need to go. I hear footsteps-“

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa groans as the jingle of the phone cut sound effect goes off. Blinking back his tears, he opens the chatroom you two share, now blurred lines of black and white and blue bubbles.

Hwa: Sorry.

You: It’s okay.

Something feels off in the discreet way that he types. Seonghwa is quiet but he’s not a man of few words when opened up to.

You: Are you okay?

Hwa: Yeah.

Hwa: Why?

You: Are you sure? Instinct.

Hwa: Lol that’s sharp

You: Do you want to talk about it?

Hwa: There’s nothing wrong, dove. I’m just tired.

You: Try get a glass of warm milk.

You: You can talk to me if you feel crappy, okay? Whenever you need it.

Hwa: Thank you, Y/n. But I think that I can only take you up on that offer when it’s my issue to talk about, I don’t think I can tell you this time.

Hwa: We started giving Jihyo therapy, by the way.

Hwa: So thank you, for everything you’ve done.

You: Alright, I understand. But if you need help with anything, you don’t have to tell me who it is, but maybe I can help.

Hwa: Thanks, but I’ll try to figure this one out on my own <3

Hwa: Hey, I think I should try and sleep.

Hwa: Goodnight, cutie

You: Goodnight, Hwa

“Congratulations, Hongjoong! You won!!!” Yunho claps the smaller man on the back, who then flinches. Seonghwa looks concerned and pulls Hongjoong into his chest for a brief moment, quickly enough to allow a window of time to brush tears away.

“Thanks, guys!” He giggles, and a dazzling smile blinds everyone in the room. “I’ll do my best to impress all of you, so don’t abandon me!” He laughs at his little joke and so does everyone else. But Seonghwa is not laughing.

“Tough luck, Hwa! It was so close!” You pat his shoulder, and he grins at you.

“I’m free from burden, what’s this about?” He chuckles, his baritone voice a sweet melody. The sunlight is dim and the shades of the afternoon haze are bright and pastel blues.

“Really?” The smile on his lips seems forced, not reaching his eyes as per usual. Heat from the atmosphere scorches you and the rising tension in the room doesn’t cool it down either.

“Yeah”

You leave it at that.

As you’re about to ask him if Jihyo needs babysitting, Hongjoong clasps onto the dark haired boy’s sleeve. “Can we talk?” You hear the short man’s voice and how it dangerously wobbles.

“Sure” Seonghwa turns away and you don’t fail to notice the comforting hand around Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“Hwa?” You’re surprised by two hands suddenly picking you up and lifting you to the air, an uncharacteristic squeal emerging from a pair of cherry red lips. “Are you okay?” You giggle, warm at the small laughs from the other.

“Yeah! More than okay!” Seonghwa sighs and puts you down. “Sorry, I got too excited. It’s just that... I’m happy for a friend” Seonghwa would normally blush and lifting you up and perhaps even apologise for doing so but there’s something occupying his brain that makes him steer away from even you.

“That’s great! I’m so proud of Hongjoong” You smile sweetly, the golden-orange hues of sunlight framing your face, Seonghwa looks a little taken aback.

“You- you knew?”

“I knew who it was, not what was going on” You correct him and Seonghwa looks admiringly at you.

“Are you psychic? You know everything about other people...” The gleaming stars in his eyes become more dim and melt into the sea of his eyes like cubes of sugar.

“Well... I’m observant?”

Seonghwa nods. Like him, you’re in a world of your own but so alive and free in the real world too. It’s too beautiful too block out, so you walk along the fine line of the little flower filled bubble with Seonghwa and the world of the classrooms with the scent of vanilla and sunshine.

“Hmm, Y/n...”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free this Saturday?” He hums, fiddling with a lock of black silky hair that keeps falling in his face.

“Yeah...” You reach up and pin back his hair with a pretty hairpin, decorated with a tiny plastic moonflower. The way Seonghwa’s cheeks become pink remind you of the purple hue of potassium permanganate bleeding into the water in the biology demonstration the teacher showed you.

With Seonghwa.

You realise you do a lot of things with Seonghwa.

You ate with him many many times (With Hongjoong and Yunho tagging along at times. You went to concert with Daehyun, Jihyo and him last month. The tickets decorate your wall, covered in doodles of little flowers. You helped him with his speeches for his election, often staying after school to fan him off and correct his grammar as his mental health spiralled downwards.

It makes you feel all warm and butterflies gather, spreading their wings and flying about your body in a flurry of heartfelt affection. You look at him again, his eyes no longer tainted with dark circles and replaced with a rosy blush.

You can’t beat around the bush anymore, or else it will grow into a forest. A forest where Seonghwa may no longer roam in.

“It’s going to be Saturday” You tell yourself as you thread baby blue ribbons into your hair, matching the light blue frock and pale yellowish white oversized cardigan. Blue butterflies adorn your ears as they hang down on silver earrings.

“It’s going to be today”

You’re surprised you haven’t passed away yet from the sheer beauty of Park Seonghwa. His blue silk blue blouse hangs down to reveal a little bit of his slightly bronze chest and you want to target the mole on it with a kiss attack. He gasps softly and pings your hanging earring. “We’re matching”

The silk of his shirt and the blue of your dress are very similar in hue, and you make a sound of realisation. “Woah we are” Seonghwa chuckles and taps your nose.

“On Saturdays, we wear blue” And he yelps as you gently smack him on the shoulder.

“Don’t clown Gretchen like that, she’s my baby” You nag him as you practically inhale the piece of cake no longer on your plate. You tried to by dainty at first but you thought of future dates and thought it would be alright if you loosened up before tightening them.

Seonghwa chuckles shyly. “I really like this cafe, you know. It’s pretty” His eyes wander the cafe, scanning the blue walls and little artificial moonflowers in baskets.

“Yeah! And the cake is amazing. Doesn’t Yunho work here?” You laugh.

“Mhmm, he loves the aesthetic of it too. It’s partially why he wears so many of those clips” His lips suddenly part into an “o” shape. “Oh! I forgot to give you the clip!” Seonghwa pulls out the pretty moonflower hairpin, looking even smaller in his large hand. As you’re about to reach out for it he swipes it out of your reach, a little grin playing on his face. “Hold still, Y/n” And you feel his fingers swipe through your hair along with the metal of the clip. “You look better in it than I do. Daehyun bullied me about it all night” He pulls a face and you chuckle.

As you two walk out of the cafe and into the park behind it, you see the hues of sunset bleeding into the horizon. You sift through your phone as you wait for Seonghwa to come back from the bathroom.

“Boo!”

“SWEET JESUS” You yelp and you’re about to smack him in the chest but you see the pink wrapping of the florist beside the cafe. He gently places them in your hands. White moonflowers pop out and the calming husky scent makes you sigh.

“Hehe, scared you” He ruffles your hair and you look into his eyes. You expect the mischievous glint in his eyes but they are replaced with a warm loving stare. The light of the sun flickers in his eyes and the breeze kisses your skin.

“Hwa?”

“Y/n, hear me out” He goes a little pink, playing with a strand of his hair.

“I really like you. A lot. I mean, I love you. It’s- I don’t know why. It’s not because you’re just so beautiful and adorable- which you are! I’m not denying it! But you’re so... Thoughtful and sincere. And I was thinking that maybe you could be my girlfriend?” His voice is deeper but laced with awkward tension. You look at his face, growing redder at the second and you smile.

“Me too”

“Pardon?!”

“I love you too”

“R-really? You’re not just saying that-“ Seonghwa excitedly grasps your hands in his.

“Yes, really. Hwa, I really respect how you’re so caring and kind. With Jihyo, Daehyun and Hongjoong. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met”

Seonghwa’s eyes shine, perhaps with happy tears or the light of shimmering sky.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yep”

Seonghwa tries to lean in and pinches your cheeks, “Pucker up”

“I can’t stop smiling”

The dark haired boy doubles down with laughter before squishing your cheeks, “Better?”

“Better” You say, but it comes out muffled.

His lips gently brush against yours, his hand doesn’t leave your face and you gently lace your fingers through his dark locks and he sighs into the kiss, leaning further into you and supporting your figure against the wall behind you.

“You know why I gave you moonflowers?”

“Why?”

“The clip, it was really pretty” He taps it, re-adjusting it and planting a kiss on your forehead. “But moonflowers are my favourite too, so I thought they would look prettier with you holding them” He giggles a little bit at the cheesy words. “I love you”

“I love you too, Seonghwa” You capture his lips in another kiss.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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iwaqchan-archive · 5 years

Note

Hey can you please do a dating Hc for Mirio 🤞🏾💖🥺 i really love them

-author's note: honestly i never thought anyone was gonna like my dating headcanons, but the amount of requests i get whenever i post a new piece is like....wow. seriously i am baffled. jUst thank you guys, really thank you so much you don't even know how happy this makes me!!

getting together

• sweet baby jesus

• this boy i swear to god, bless his precious heart. he is basically like an overexcited newfoundland dog. so, when he discovered that he has a big fat crush on you, he is absolutely extatic.

• mirio never had any problems with showing his affections. in fact, he believes it is one of the most important things to tell the people you care about how much they mean to you. and that rule also applies to people he is strong, romantic feelings for. which means, he's gonna be all over you.

• he is very open with his feelings towards you. like very open. constantly throws compliments at you, hugs you like a bizarre amount of times, and gives you piggy-back rides whenever you want to. also there will be a lot of study sessions (for the love of god, please help this boy) which mostly consist of you (desperatly) trying to explain the current subject to him, with warying degrees of success.

• in all honesty, though. you knew that he was very sweet and affectionate by nature, so it took you a while to realize that he was being a bit more caring towards you than he was to anyone else. that moment of clarity was one afternoon, after the two of you made your way back to your dorm rooms, after grabbing a bite at a restaurant.

• you were telling him a story of something that happened in your childhood. nothing all too exciting, in your opinion at least. but mirio seemed to hang onto every word you said. and out of the corner of your eye you could see him pratically grinning at you like a love struck fool. i mean, he usually smiles at people when they talk to him, but it was never a smile like this. and then it kind of registered in your brain that everything he did for you, wasn't just him being friendly. he liked you, really liked you.

• you made sure to ask him about it the next day, and..well the rest was history

finally dating

• not a lot changes after you start dating. there is still a lot of cuddling (it'S A LoT more now even), compliments you non-stop and is as delightful as ever

• the only thing that's different now is...well, he won't shut the hell up about you. he keeps gushing to anyone that will listen, and when i say anyone i mean absolutely anyone. his fellow classmates, tamaki and nejire, underclassman and even an old lady he helped cross the street once. but he couldn't care less, he is so enamored with you and if he had any say in it, the whole world should know it.

• also piggy back rides are now your new form of transportation, i don't make the rules guys

• dating him also means becoming best friends with Tamaki & Nejire. obviously Nejire is going to be super duper, absolutely over the moon, excited. will constantly ask you random questions ("oh my god (Y/N), how did you get your hair to be so fluffy????"), takes you on shopping trips (not so voluntarily at times) and also G I R L N I G H T S!! Tamaki on the other hand, will be a lot more reserved. he tries to talk to you but often times his anxiety gets the upper hand. but with time he will become one of your greatest friends

• mirio will also be your personal hype man!! say you are out shopping with him and trying on some cute clothes, mirio will hype 👏🏼 you 👏🏼 tf 👏🏼 up. (honestly you get kicked out of stores so much because of him practially hollering at you)

• just idk man, i rlly don't know what else to tell you?!?! 12/10 would date, go get yourself a mirio

kissing

• very enthusiastic, almost a little too much. he isn't known to half ass things and he sure as hell won't start now, he takes smoochin' very seriously.

• what type of kisses he likes, you might ask? ALL OF THEM. forehead kisses? hell yeah. cheek kisses? you bet!! quick pecks? YEAh. french kissing? oH Boy, YES

• he especially loves to pepper your face in smooches. like he actually considers this as a hobby (yes, he actually gives this as an answer when asked). also loves picking you up and spinning you around while you share a kiss

• first kiss: out of all the boys i've done headcanons on, he is by far the best. he had some experience before you came along so he knew what he was doing. it was soft and gentle, no tongue because he didn't want to frighten you. also held your cheek the entire time, with his thumb carefully stroking it

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡

requests: open

#bnha imagine #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader #togata mirio x reader #toogata mirio x reader #mirio togata imagine #togata mirio imagines #bnha imagines #bnha smut #b

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troop-scoop · 4 years

Text

Mistakes & Regrets VIII

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, (Italics are memories when they’re in bulk, but if it’s one line it’s a thought!)

A/n: Aye, I finally updated!

•••

It was clear that Callahan and Powell didn’t quite believe your story. At least not without the evidence left on your knuckles, and even then, it was like they didn’t completely believe that a fifteen year old girl could hit a taller, stronger and older teenage boy and cause a fight.

But you did. You punched a seventeen year old Steve Harrigton in the nose, and had the bruising to prove it. You were sure you were the only girl to have ever hit him, and while you felt slightly bad, he still deserved it.

You didn’t intend for the fight to escalate to what it had been in the span of seconds, but you did intend on the first punch. His words were uncalled for, and hurtful.

“You said you hit first?” Callahan questioned still holding the note pad and wooden pencil.

“Yes, for the last fucking time, I hit first.”

Powell gave you a look. “Language.” He reminded.

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at the cop who stood above you while you stayed seated. “You’re not my dad.” You responded. Both of their faces were clearly annoyed. You’d been giving attitude since they arrested both you and Jonathan. Though Jonathan was still in cuffs, and you were just sitting by Callahan’s desk, because you didn’t punch a cop in the nose. “Now can I please eat?” You asked, gesturing to the box of donuts on the desk.

Powell sighed and opened the classic pink box for you to get a donut. You reached your bruised hand into the box and pulled out two sprinkled donuts.

“We said one.” Powell reminded you again.

“You wanna be the one responsible for my death of starvation?” Taking a bite from the pink frosted donut, both of the officers only shook their heads while you turned in your seat, legs over the arm of the chair.

“How are you doing over there, Johnny boy?” You teased a bit, getting Jonathan to turn his head to look at you.

“You know, you’re the most sarcastic person I’ve ever met.” He told you while Nancy held the ice filled dish rag to his face again.

You nodded with a shit eating grin and continued to eat while Callahan sat down in his seat and Powell went to his own desk.

“Hey. Jonathan? Y/n? Jesus, what. . . what happened?” You looked up to the doorway to see Joyce, and the chief of police walking into the station. Joyce looked worried as she reached the desk Jonathan and Nancy were sat at, with the chief right behind her.

Callahan stood up while you grabbed the box of frosted treats, holding it in your lap while you watched the officer stand up.

“Ma’am. . .” Callahan started

“In my defense, there was no adult supervision.” You spoke quickly, looking up at the young version of your grandmother who furrowed her brows and shook her head with an absent mind at your statement.

Jonathan turned his head to you again, eyeing you curiously before looking back to Joyce. “We’re fine.” He informed while you finished off the first donut.

“Why is he wearing handcuffs?” Joyce demanded pointing a hand at Jonathan’s wrists, but the only thing you could really see near his hands was the reindeer dish rag he was holding to his hands.

“Well, your boy assaulted a police officer. That’s why.”

Looking up at Callahan you heard Joyce speak. “Take them off.” Your grandmother was assertive in your time, and your dad had told you she actually cooled off compared to how she used to be. You’d never believed him, but you did now.

“I am afraid I cannot do that.” Callahan was trying to be calm.

“Take them off!” Joyce now yelled while you and Nancy made awkward eye contact.

“You heard her. Take ‘em off.” the chief’s voice was that of a man who hadn’t had coffee yet that day and was exhausted.

“Chief, I get everyone’s emotional here, but there’s something you need to see.” Powell interrupted the conversation.

The chief looked at you, and made eye contact, getting a bit of a weird feeling while Joyce and him now made eye contact. He’d given her nod before he and the two other officers left the station and Joyce was pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back at the three of you, She got between the two desks and spoke in a hushed whisper to you. “Who knows?”

“Jonathan and Nancy.” You didn’t need to have her say what she was talking about. You knew, just from her hushed voice exactly what she meant.

Joyce looked at Jonathan and Nancy who were looking at her as well. “Okay. . .” She said, still in her hushed voice so no one else could hear her but you. Not even Jonathan or Nancy could hear. “Hopper knows, too.” She informed, the grimace already on her face at your expected reaction being a loud groan of frustration.

“Great, just what I need.” You commented with a sarcastic nod.

As if on cue, the chief, Callahan and Powell came back into the station, the chief carrying a box that made a metal rattling noise, he reached the table Nancy and Jonathan dropping the box on the table with a loud ‘bang!’

Standing up from your seat, still holding the box of donuts, you looked into the box, your jaw dropping at seeing the large iron bear trap, surrounded by boxes of bullets, the gun from the day before and a few other things.

“What is all this stuff?” Joyce asked, looking through the box.

You leaned down to whisper to Jonathan. “When I said Sam and Dean Winchester,” You started, “I didn’t fucking mean it” Jonathan looked up at you just as confused as when you said it before. “I seriously didn’t mean it.” You told him again

“Why don’t you ask your son? We found it in his car.”

You eyes shot to the chief as your grows furrowed. As Jonathan spoke “Why are you going through my car?” and you spoke over him saying, “You violated his fourth amendment, what the fuck dude?”

Joyce backhanded your arm when you swore. There wasn’t much of a big difference between what she was like in your time, and now. If you could even say that this was ‘now.’

“Are those really the questions you wanna ask right now?” Hopper asked looking at you, going into interrogation mode. But you’d been suspended once, and almost expelled, you knew how to deal with people in that mode.

“Yeah, actually.” You told him with a sarcastic, breathy chuckle. “You didn’t have a search warrant, or anything, no probable cause. And you think you can get away with it just because a lot of people forget about the unit in middle school that focuses on the Bill of Rights and the Constitution. Or did you forget everyone’s basic rights? Because I know how much training a cop has to go through, and they don’t refresh anyone on people’s rights.”

Hopper looked irritated as you spoke, but you were more irritated than him. The entire situation was annoying, and all you wanted was to go sleep in your own bed, in your own home, and your own time period.

“I wanna see all three of you in my office.” He affirmed, you went to argue back when he turned away but Jonathan beat you to the punch, though it wasn’t what you were going to say.

“You won’t believe me.”

“Why don’t you give me a try?”

•••

“So, we’ve got monsters, a girl from the future, and a missing kid.” Hopper spoke after Joyce took Jonathan outside the office, leaving you with Nancy and the chief. “And you’re Will’s daughter?”

You gave a slow nod, “Yeah,”

“Kid-”

“Listen, Chief, I don’t want your pity, so please, just stop.” You told him, crossing your legs and looking down at the ugly carpet

Hopper remained quiet for a moment before he continued on talking, “Who’s taking care of you?”

“I am.” You shrugged a bit, looking back up at the chief, watching as his expression grew sad as he looked down at you.

“How old are you kid?” He asked, still holding the photo of the thing Jonathan had gotten a picture of.

“Fifteen.”

You heard yelling in the main area of the station, which is when Hopper pushed himself away from the edge of his desk and went to the door, with you following shortly after, your curiosity piqued.

You heard Hopper tell Joyce and Jonathan to stay there, but he didn’t notice you following, hot on his heels. You were quiet when you walked, and light on your feet.

“Where’s the chief? I want to speak to him right this instant!” You could hear a woman yelling while the main room came into view. Her greying blonde hair cut into an ugly and ill fitting pixie cut, that people usually called the ‘can I talk to your manager’ haircut.

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down.” Callahan tried.

“What is your name, Deputy?” The woman demanded, which is when you looked to the young boy by her side. Probably her son. His arm in a fresh white cast and in a sling over his neck. He looked at you curiously as though he’d seen you before, and you could have sworn you’d seen him once before.

“Well, I’m an officer,” Callahan chuckled, “Okay?”

“Name and badge number, both of you!” She demanded while you continued to stand in the entryway to the hall, arms crossed as you and the boy continued to examine each other, as if confused by the other’s presence. You couldn’t place it, but he was oddly familiar.

“What the hell is going on here?” Hopper demanded as he walked to the mother, son, and his officers, stealing your attention away from the boy, and his attention from you.

“Chief-”

“These men are humiliating my son!” She shouted, looking at the chief and pointing directly at Callahan who immediately tried to defend himself.

“No, no, no. Okay, that’s not true-”

“There was some kind of fight, Chief.” Powell informed, uninterested in the situation going on.

“A psychotic child broke his arm!” The mother added, gesturing to her son’s broken arm. The memory of watching a classmate at school breaking his arm coming back, making you shiver a bit.

“A little girl, Chief, a little one.” At that, you laughed. Wondering what he’d been doing to piss off a little girl so badly that she broke his arm. Hopper turned his head to look at you and you covered your mouth immediately, still smiling under your palm.

“That tone! Do you hear that tone?” The mother demanded again, looking at the chief with anger and frustration clear on her face while you continued to smile.

“Honestly, I’m just trying to state a fact, It was a little girl-” Callahan started again before Hopper interrupted.

“We don’t have time for this, will you please take a statement” Hopper told them, gesturing silently as if telling them to get the woman and boy out of the station, before he turned back to look at you and grabbed your shoulder, leading you back a step or two.

“I think it’s his pride that’s hurt more than his arm.” You chuckled a bit before hearing the boy give his description of the girl.

“She had no hair, and she was bleeding from her nose!”

“Hello?” It was a simple question and the girl only stared at you, confused by your word, as though she’d never heard it before.

You hadn’t seen another person in a long time. You counted the hours on your watch, how often the short hand fully passed over the face of the tiny clock. And it had done it six full times. You’d been there three days, and you felt like it was a death sentence, or that it was a fever dream.

“Hello?” The girl repeated your word back to you, not knowing the meaning. You took a subtle step towards her. But she looked as though she wasn’t were you were. No shadows were cast onto her body, and she looked completely clean, unlike you.

She was small, and young, maybe only the age of your brother, her eyes scared and dark. Though you couldn’t tell if her eye color was brown or if her pupils were blown wide. Her hair was a medium brown, and buzzed down. And her clothing was almost clinical. Like what you’d think a futuristic x-ray shield would look like.

“Yeah. . . Hello.” You told her. You realized she wasn’t confused by the word, but by seeing you there. She reached a small hand out to you, and you took it. Her pale hand in yours as you stared at each other for a moment.

Any thought of what was going on around you was gone. You didn’t know if one of those things would sneak up on you or not, you were just intrigued by her presence.

“Who. . . are you?” The girl asked with a small struggle, like she’d never really been taught how to speak.

“Y/n, how about you?”

“I know you!” The boy exclaimed, snapping you out of your own thoughts about the girl. “You helped me pay for water balloons back in August!”

That wasn’t right. You’d been in Hawkins since September fifth. There was no way you could have possibly helped the boy buy water balloons. But you did remember buying a kid a pack of them with your brother in Melvad’s when your fathers had let you two go to the town’s small downtown to get snacks at Melvad’s.

“You had a really thin walkman. . . it was dark silver, and it had a lens. You were wearing a Star Wars T-shirt.”

That’s what you’d been wearing when you went to Melvad’s that day. August 11th. The day before you fell into that hole and ended up in that place. You’d had your phone out and now that you recalled the memory, you remembered the boy looking just like this boy. Now you were confused, and terrified.

“Yeah. . . That was me.” You told him quietly before Hopper grabbed your shoulder and led you away.

•••

It was all freaking you out. The story that somehow this girl that you were pretty sure you saw in that weird place was with your uncles Mike, Lucas and Dustin. The men who were were also constants in your life, and your dad’s life long friends. Neither you, or your dad would remember a time where they weren’t around.

But what was freaking you out the most was that this girl was the reason for the government trucks and cars and helicopters circling around the Wheeler home. And it wasn’t right that you were trying to find the four of them, by rushing into the Byers home to find Will’s walkie talkie.

Once in the house you went to the farthest room, going to the bed and looking under it while Jonathan went to the desk and Joyce looked through the drawers of his dresser.

You saw it almost immediately and grabbed it, pulling it out and holding it up like a prize. “Found it.” You told the four others.

“How’d you know it would be there?” Jonathan questioned, taking it from you and extending the large antenna that was almost as long as your arm.

“Under bed policy.” You shrugged like it was something everyone had.

“What?” Hopper asked, looking at you.

“My dad and I have this rule, if there’s something that I don’t want him to see, I can put it under the bed. He promised me he would never look under there. I’ve hidden many report cards under my bed.” You explained while Nancy took the walkie from Jonathan, turning it on and pressing the button to speak to her brother, sitting on the edge of Will’s bed, Joyce sitting next to her and grabbing your hand

“Mike, are you there? Mike? Mike, It’s me, Nancy.” You squeezed Joyce’s hand and she did the same to you.

“Mike, are you there” No answer came.

“Answer, Mike, we need you to answer. This is an emergency, Mike, do you copy? Mike do you copy?”

“Nance-”

“I need you to answer. We need to know that you’re there, Mike.” Nancy finished before Hopper took the walkie from her, giving it a shot himself.

“Listen, Kid, this is the chief. If you’re there, pick up. We know you’re in trouble, and we know about the girl. We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up. Are you there? Do you copy? Over.”

There was no answer, and everyone’s confidence and hope in the situation visibly left the room when everyone’s shoulders dropped and their heads tilted in frustration and thoughtfulness, including you, who was still terrified over what the boy named Troy had said in the station.

“Yeah, I copy, it’s Mike. I’m here. . . We’re here.” Mike’s voice came from the walkie, a bit of static from the distance.

“Oh thank god.” You murmured as Joyce scooted over for you to sit and her arms wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close.

•••

You looked at the four children who got out of the car, as well as Nancy who ran to her younger brother and embraced him in a tight hug.

But the girl, you recognized her as the girl from that place. But now she was wearing semi normal clothes. An outdated pink dress with a white collar and a jacket that clearly wasn’t her own. Her eyes were on you the moment she got out of the car.

“Is that my dress?” Nancy asked, looking at the twelve year old girl.

“Who is she?” Dustin questioned. You knew all of them, saw childhood photos of them when you were growing up. You knew who was who. And you knew he meant you.

Looking to Jonathan, Joyce, and Hopper who just looked at you. The both of you waiting for who was going to make up an excuse first. But none of them did, just staring at you.

You looked back to the group of children. “Just uh. . . A time traveling weirdo, I guess.” You told them with a tight lipped smile that was more than just forced.

•••

Add yourself to the taglist!

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @jxnehxpper @yllwtaxi @songofcosplay @potatopooper05 @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan @yall-wildin-like-siriusly

#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington slow burn #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things slow burn

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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years

Note

hey tay! how about: situation #28, sentence #15, person(people) steve/billy 😊 thank you!

Hi bb!!! Sorry this took forever, it just kind of kept going haha.

Enjoy! 28. Love Confession and 15. “If you think I don’t have feelings for you, you’re dumber than I though.” (I also added college!au because why not?)

Billy had thought moving to college would have meant freedom from Hawkins, from his dad, from the memories of a certain kiss in the dark. He had packed his camaro and never looked back as he sped out of that shit hole town. It wasn’t until he was unpacking his couple of boxes that it finally hit him. He had done it. He was out.

Then he walked into his second college class, Forensic Science 101, and spotted that damn head of perfectly styled gravity defying hair, and met wide brown eyes. They stared at each other for a whole minute before Steve was tugged away by some spunky looking blonde with a jean jacket that was more patches than denim.

Billy watched them take a seat towards the front of the hall, and then deliberately made his way to the back. He hoped that this would be the only incident of bumping into an old face, but when had he ever had that much luck?

The second item listed in the syllabus, written in bold 12 point times new roman, was a group project due at the end of the semester, and the professor just had to announce that they were assigning partners by last name. When the list was projected up Billy could have screamed.

Of course.

Of fucking course, on his first day of college, when he thought he was finally safe and free from Hawkins and all that came with it, he had to get paired up with King Steve for a fucking semester-long assignment.

By the end of class, Billy’s pencil was chewed to bits and his anxiety was through the roof. The bell caught him off guard, and as the rest of his classmates were filing out of the hall, he was slowly packing up. It wasn’t until he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder that he saw Harrington waiting at the end of the aisle Billy was in. He looked equally nervous, bottom lip red and puffy from biting it. Billy started thinking about other ways he could make Steve’s lips look like that, thoughts steering to Tina’s graduation party and a shady corner in the backyard. Before he could dig himself too deep of a hole, a soft cough brought him back to reality.

“So, I guess we’re partners?” Harrington asked hesitantly.

Billy just replied with a grunt and pushed past Harrington to leave the lecture hall. He didn’t have time for Harrington’s ridicule and judgemental looks. But before he could ditch him, Billy felt a hand grab his jacket sleeve and tug him backwards, prompting him to spin around and face Harrington again.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Harrington,” he growled. Harrington dropped his hand as if he had been burned.

“Jeez, sorry. Who pissed in your cheerios, Hargrove?”

“Piss off.” Billy started walking away again, until Harrington jumped in front of him.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. We do need to work on this project together though.”

“Yeah? Well we haven’t even gotten an assignment sheet yet,” Billy shrugged. Steve dug into his bag and pulled out a thick packet.

“Um, hate to be the bearer of bad news Billy boy, but we actually did?”

“Fine. We can figure out some time to meet and go over this stupid project.”

“Great! I was thinking three times a week? at like 6?”

“Mmm, ‘fraid not Princess. Once a week, on Thursdays, at 7. Meet in the library. Final offer.”

“Jesus,” Harrington said, “You really haven’t changed. Still the same asshole who’s too good for anyone?”

“No, Princess. Just too good for you,” and with those parting words, Billy pushed past Harrington and snached the packet out of his hands. He heard Harrington squawk in protest, but before he could pull another stunt to stall his departure, Billy was ducking out the door and striding through the quad.

And thus, their schedule was set. Billy successfully avoided Harrinton in the classroom by sneaking in at the last minute and sitting in the very back in order to be one of the first out with the bell. During their study sessions, Billy remained quiet and aloof, responding to all of Harrinton’s questions with biting cynicism and witty insults. He finally stopped trying four weeks in, and now they simply met, put a couple hours into their project, and then left.

This lasted until the second to last meeting they had. The Thursday after Thanksgiving break found the two boys in the library like every other Thursday of the semester. They were going over every detail, reviewing their conclusions, and finalizing their presentation for next Friday.

Billy was packing up his stuff, getting ready to go home when he heard Harrington clear his throat.

“Hargrove, wait. I-I uh, I can’t make it next week.” Billy froze.

“Harrington, are you kidding? We present the next day, what the hell?” Billy couldn’t believe it. All semester Harrington had been riding his ass about being on time to their stupid little meet ups, and now he wanted to just ditch it right before the end?

“I’ve got another commitment,” Harrington said, and Billy noticed his ears were bright red. That’s when it hit him.

“Oh, I see.” Billy felt a downright nasty smirk take over. “King Steve’s got a date huh? Tell me Stevie, is she another Wheeler bitch, or is she the spunky blonde you’re always with? What’s your type these days Pretty Boy?”

“Fuck off Hargrove. God, why are you such a dick all the time?” Harrington complained, sounding every part the spoiled brat he was.

“Just part of the charm, Princess.” The smirk only got bigger, started to resemble a sneer with the way his lip curled up and his teeth showed.

‘Never let them see you hurt.’ he thought, feeling jealousy pool in his stomach.

“So who is it Pretty Boy? Ice queen or punk band reject?” Billy sneered.

“It-it’s not a date.”

“Oh, please. You’re redder than a fucking tomatoe. C’mon Harrington, what’s a little gossip between pals?”

“We are not friends,” Harrington growled, finally reaching the end of his patience, “and if you refused to answer my questions after Tina’s party, I don’t see why I have to answer any of yours.” Harrington crossed his arms and pursed his lips.

“What the absolute fuck are you talking about Harrington? You didn’t ask me shit after that night.”“Yeah, because you never let me!” Steve practically shouted. He quieted down after a sharp glare from the pruny old librarian behind the desk. “You practically disappeared after that night.”

“Yeah, because I already knew what you were going to say, and I didn’t need that shit from some bumpkin fuck right before I got to leave that tiny shit town.” Billy leaned forward as he practically spit the last words, getting up into Harrington’s blank face.

“Oh, if you’re so smart, what was I going to say Billy?” Harrington seemed unmoved by Billy’s presence, only scrunching up his nose a little and shifting his shoulders.

“Fuck this. I don’t need your interrogation now. Enjoy your date, and just make sure your fucking essay is finished.” Billy adjusted the strap of his bag, and pushed past Harrington to leave him behind. Unlike their first collegiate interaction, Harrington didn’t follow. Billy made it all the way out of the library and around the corner before having to stop and take a few deep breaths. He didn’t know how, but Harrington had the innate ability to get under Billy’s skin. Ever since that Halloween party, where he gave Billy one glance over and moved on to follow some prissy looking ice princess.

After some deep breaths, the urge to punch something slowly faded to a simmer, at least enough to make his way back to his dorm.

Monday came, and with it Forensic Sciences 101. He pulled the usual routine of coming in late, only to find a certain mop of brown hair sitting in his usual seat. Billy made the educated decision to tuck tail and beat it. There wasn’t an attendance policy anyway, skilling wouldn’t hurt.

Using that logic, he also skipped Wednesday’s lecture just to be safe. He decided to use the time to study for another final coming up, and headed to the library. He was deep in the zone, reading about the historical significance of guinea pigs in ancient South American culture when suddenly his textbook was ripped away from him.

He jerked up to see who the thief was. Standing before him was the same blonde that hung around Harrington so often, and she looked pissed.

“Can I help you?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow and staring her down. She didn’t even flinch as they suddenly ended up in a silent staring match. After a few tense moments, she suddenly smiled and plopped down in the seat next to him.

“Name’s Robin. You’re Billy Hargrove right?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“Okay, listen. I’m friends with Steve, basically his only friend on campus,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll, “and I’m here to tell you to talk to him, please. The little pining sulky thing he’s got going on was cute at first, but now it’s just kind of sad and annoying, so whatever happened between you two? I don't care, just fix it.”

“And what makes you so sure it’s me he’s pining over or whatever? It’s probably that chic he has a date with tomorrow.” Billy leaned back in his chair, trying to feign nonchalance.

“Because,” she stretched out the word, “Dingus abandoned me during Forensics to sit in the back, even though his eyesight is terrible, all because he knew a certain blond always sat in the back. And then when you ditched, he was silent for like, an hour.”

“Yeah? Wow. Real compelling evidence you got there chief. Unfortunately, I’ve known Harrington for longer and I know that’s not the case. There’s nothing going on between us.” Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Now can I please have my textbook back?”

“Not until you agree to talk to him,” she fired back.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to have that discussion.”

“What, big tough guy like you scared of what a dingus has to say? What’s got your panties in a twist Billy Joel?”

“None of your business. Now scram.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the p. “I need my best friend back. Besides, don’t you guys have a presentation on Friday? I can guarantee unless you two talk whatever out, he’s gonna be practically useless.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on!” His volume began to raise, only to be lowered again in the face of the librarian. He leaned closer to Robin instead. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. It's. Not. Happening.”

“Fine. I guess it’s not what I’m thinking. After all, what do I, a lesbian from a tiny town in rural Illinois, know about mutual gay pining?” She said, leaning in to Billy too. They were practically bumping heads at this point, exchanging harsh whispers. But, as the term ‘mutual gay pining’ came out of her mouth, Billy squinted his eyes and smirked menacingly.

“I see. You’re just some dyke who’s projecting her failed love life onto her bff in hopes of not being so lonely. Guess what buttercup? You’re dead fucking wrong. So fuck off, and go draw more tits on your shoes.” Robin leaned back in mock offense, before matching Billy with her own wicked smile.

“Oh okay. First off, fuck you, but I’m going to let it go because I know you probably have some deep seeded internalized bullshit. I had to help Steve through the same shit this semester. You’re from Hawkins too right?” One manicured eyebrow popped up, before she continued on her tirade. “Secondly, I’m never wrong. I saw the way you straight up stared at his lips that first day. Fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him? Real no homo of you.”

“Are you done?” Billy asked, preparing to pack up and piss off. He didn’t need this shit, he had too many finals coming up.

“Sure, if you’re ready to talk to Steve?”

“For the last time, take your psychoanalytical routine and fuck off.”

“Fine, whatever. Enjoy your pining anguish and ruined project.” She stood up, and prepared to turn away, before shooting over her shoulder, “By the way, I’m not sad or lonely. I actually have a girlfriend cause I’m not a pussy.” With that, she walked away, leaving Billy floundering for a scathing retort and coming up empty handed. He huffed and settled into his seat again to study, but suddenly he couldn’t focus on the guinea pigs. Sighing, he packed up and went to eat dinner.

Over the next two days, Billy tried to go about business as usual, but found himself staring off into space a lot more, Robin’s words echoing in his ears. Finally, Friday came about and Billy had to face the music. Or at least Harrington.

He got to the hall 30 minutes early, in order to sort his papers and double check all of his notecards were in the right order. Apparently, Harrington had the same idea, because he was already seated in the second row, head bent in concentration as he fussed over a stack of papers.

Billy walked down the aisle, hands in his pockets. When he reached the row where Harrington sat, he cleared his throat. When Harrington’s head shot up in surprise, Billy was taken aback for a moment by the positions they found themselves in, reversed from that first day.

Billy’s eyes flicked downwards before he shuffled through the seats and flopped down into the seat next to Harrington.

“I uh, I got my papers. Gimme a sec, and we can put them all together.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, quiet so as to not break the hush an empty lecture hall seemed to require.

“Okay.” Harrington’s voice was equally as soft. Billy began rifling through his bag to pull out the folder containing his portion of the project, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harrington squirm nervously, bouncing his leg and chewing at his thumbnail. Robin’s words came back to him, “he’ll be practically useless.”

Billy pulled out the folder and sighed as he turned to Harrington. Here goes nothing.

“How was your date yesterday?” he asked, wincing a little at his choice of conversation starter.

“I told you, it wasn’t a date,” Harrington snapped, continuing to bounce his leg rapidly.

“Fine, fine. How was your commitment?”

“Fine,” Harrington said, clipped. They lapsed into another bout of tense silence.

A few minutes passed before Steve finally broke.

“What did you think I was going to say to you?” he asked, but he resolutely didn’t look at Billy. He chose instead to focus on his hands as he picked at his cuticles.

“Oh, okay. I guess.” He paused to clear his throat. “I guess you were looking for me to say it was an accident, a drunk mistake or whatever. Didn’t need to get rejected in person when I knew it was coming anyway.”

Suddenly, Harrington burst out laughing. It wasn’t very long, but just enough to piss off Billy.

“What’s so funny Harrington?”

“You thought I was going to reject you?”

“Yeah. Brush it off as a drunken mishap and go back to fucking ice princess or whoever.”

“Oh my god, Billy.” His first name rang in his ears. It was the first time he could remember Harrin-Steve calling him by it. “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve’s voice carried the boisterous laugh until it began to dwindle into quiet timidness as Billy just sat there, blinking, before shooting up.

“See you’re already insult- wait, what?” He faltered, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I said, if you think I don’t feel anything for you, if you think I regret it or brushed off what happened as some drunk mistake, you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve said, the last part holding a light teasing tone.

“You... but… you’re…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not what? Not gay?” He paused before reaching out to gently offer his hand. “I’m not. I’m bisexual? I think? Robin’s better with the terms or what not, but um, basically I like both?”

Billy sat down heavily before hesitantly grasping Steve’s outreached hand.

“I guess that makes sense, but you really like me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you are an asshole, but I also saw how you were with Max and El, and even Will sometimes. You have a soft side, er. Well, softer.” Billy cracked a smile.

“I like you too Pretty Boy. Have since that one Halloween.”

“God, we’re dumbasses, huh?” Steve moaned. “Robin's going to hold this over me forever.”

“I think she’s just going to be happy we’re not ‘mutually pining dinguses’ anymore.” Steve snorted, before looking up and squinting at Billy.

“Wait. Did she talk to you?”

“Yeah, she cornered me in the library Wednesday. You know, she kind of reminds me of a pitbull, all protective of you.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna chew her ass. I told her specifically not to talk to you!” Before Steve could go into a full on tirade against his best friend, other classmates began to trickle in. Steve and Billy dropped hands and faced forward, prepping for their presentation again. However, just before the professor officially began class, Billy leaned over and whispered in Steve’s ear.

“You know anywhere we can talk after class? Privately.” He emphasized the last word, blowing a little puff of air, and watching Steve shiver.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I have an apartment,” he stuttered.

“Perfect.”

Hope y’all liked it! As always, my askbox is always open to prompts, it might just take a minute to get them out.

#tay writes #prompt fill #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove college au #harringrove ficlet

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v0n-butch · 5 years

Text

obstacle 1

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“24 & 41 w some soft billy 🤧” requested by anonymous.

#24: “You’re trembling.”

#41: “I feel like I can’t breathe.” from dialogue prompts

warning(s): slurs, violence, panic attacks

a/n: angst but it gets better I promise!! title of the fic comes from a fucking phenomenal Interpol song. also beware if you send me a number from a prompt list there’s no way I know how to make it short like a drabble, I only know how to draw it out pretty much haha.

—

“What the fuck is the matter with you? Huh?”

Billy’s back had been shoved up against the wall, his lip trembling and eyes red rimmed with unshed tears. His father’s fingers are tightly clutched around his jacket, ugly nostrils widely flared, looking down at his own son as if he were a mistake; as if he were the scum of the fucking earth. And Billy knows that that’s true, too.

“I had to get a call from the sheriff, at—” his father breaks eye contact for a split second to eye the clock that hangs on his son’s bedroom wall, “three-thirty in the goddamn morning, only to be told that my gracious son has been caught stealing chocolate bars from the drugstore, like some fucking delinquent. How do you think this makes me feel, William? As your own flesh and blood,” his father sighs and pats his own chest, pretending like he’s hurt because Billy made a fool of himself and embarrassed his family. Of course, only his father would be making all this about himself yet again and not seeing with his blind dumb eyes that it’s a cry for attention and help.

It was impulsive and stupid, Billy can admit that at least.

He was hungry, he felt like acting out, and there just so happened to be a drugstore nearby and thought it’d be kinda funny. Billy assumed that the security would be shit, and he also assumed he’d be smooth enough to not get caught. He played the part pretty well, at least what he considered to be convincing. Whistling and peeking at his surroundings as he casually stuffed around twelve, maybe even more chocolate bars down his pants and coat pockets and then sprinting like a bat out of hell to the parking lot.

He swore he was in the clear, and would eventually get to enjoy the candy bars and have a funny story to tell you later. Have a happy ending to one of his shenanigans for once, instead of ending in tears and blood. That is until the way-too-beefy-for-this-job clerk behind the counter saw him and called him out before chasing him down, slamming his entire front into the concrete. Holding him there until the boys in blue show up and handcuff his hands behind his back before shoving him in the backseat. The bruises from the comfy cement came out nice and big, Billy already checked them out in the bathroom mirror at the station. Seriously, he’d never seen a guy get that protective over Kit-Kat bars since he was in grade school.

After fucking begging the officers to just let him off the hook and promising it’ll never happen again, that it was just a silly fluke; they had betrayed him, and unsurprisingly at that. Like all authoritative figures have done to him his entire eighteen years of living. The pricks really did it, they really called his dad on him, and now here we are.

“Answer me this instant!”

Billy flinched at the deafening tone his father used to screamed right into his face. Their noses are practically touching. He can even smell his father’s alcohol consumption through his breath, and it’s so fucking grotesque that Billy wants to throw everything he ate that day up.

“I got popped for stealing chocolate, s’not the worst thing I’ve done,” he weakly murmurs, cursing himself internally because he felt a tear bust out of his left eye. He can’t cry in front of this monster, he fucking can’t.

Why can’t this be over with already? Why not just a slap on the wrist, one and done? This shouldn’t be as bad as the time he got caught tripping on acid in the woods that his weird ass classmate Mike gave to him. Yet he’s still here, spitting on Billy’s face and gripping him tighter, voice thundering louder. Susan doesn’t ever give a fuck about what’s happening to her step son, so why would Billy be foolishly praying that she would save the day this time? The helpless boy even imagines a scenario ending with his little step sibling Max stepping in and calling the cops. But all that’s just wishful thinking. Those things only happen to people who are cared about, and nobody gives a rats ass for Billy’s well-being in this household. Not even the cops would throw his nutcase of a father in jail and swallow the key.

The cops only care about petty misdemeanors, such as teenagers stealing candy bars from drugstores. They wouldn’t bat an eye at seeing a troublemaker like Billy with bruises and scabs scattered all over his face. They don’t care. None of them do, and none of them listen either.

“Yeah yeah, sure. It’s just a couple candy bars, right? But here’s how thieves work,” Neil starts his lesson, looking down his nose and pointing a finger at Billy’s face accusingly. “First, it’s just a candy bar. No big deal, right? You’re just having a little fun. Then, it gets bigger. You get away with that, then one day, you think you can get away with stealing a car,” he takes Billy’s jaw in one hand to keep him in place before giving his cheek a quick sharp slap, leaving it stinging and flushing red. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

The first punch is always a shock, and has the teen holding his breath waiting for what the next one will feel like.

“You are a fucking disgrace, a worthless juvenile with nothing better to do,” his father winds up for round two, even grinning like a sadistic bastard. He grins even wider when he sees his son’s face leak with more tears, and hissing when he wipes his own face too hard from brushing the evidence of the blow with his finger. More insults are thrown at him, like “faggot” or “disappointment”. He’s heard it all before, but it’s seeping further into his skull now, right along with his dear old dad’s fist. Cutting deep, deeper than it ever has, and not just in his face.

And Billy, paralyzed and hopless while lying on the ground, realizes that his father had to have been right all along.

Throughout his teens he consciously wondered if he actually was the reason Mom left, or if that’s just his dad fucking with his head. Which usually happens to be the case. But now, Billy is petrified that he’s telling the truth, and he’s giving it to him raw, like a sick reminder of his utter worthlessness. Maybe he will grow up to be no good, just another bum and a thief, getting caught doing more stupid shit. Billy wonders if this is really a sign that he should wise up before it’s too late.

His dad has finally stopped knocking his head into the wall and sucker punching his nose and cheeks, now seemingly satisfied with the work of art done to the boy’s face. With blood pouring from the boy’s nose like a faucet, he scrambles to plug it up and hug himself while bracing for a potential next hit. To Billy’s relief, his dad up and leaves at that, slamming the door behind him with a scoff and more damaging insults murmured under his breath. As soon as the door is shut, the boy fumbles to shove open his window, rushing to crawl the fuck out and nicking his injuries on the way out. He can’t fucking take this anymore.

By the time he’s out in his driveway, tears are still flooding out of his fucked up purple eyes and he rips open his Camaro door. While starting up the engine, he shakes his head before speeding to the only safe place he knows.

Your room.

—

When Billy makes it to your house, still just as hot of a mess as he was when he was being beaten and screamed at, the way up to your room was no picnic. He skinned his knee on the way down, falling three or four times before finally making it. His strength isn’t at it’s best at the moment. He carelessly shoves your window open and stumbles as he climbs through, landing directly on the floor. His back is to your door, and he adjusts himself to sitting with his legs crossed as he waits for your return. You’re probably downstairs, or in the bathroom. He doesn’t fucking know, but he wouldn’t doubt that you’d leave him too, like everyone else had when they discovered how much of a burden all his issues really are. History often repeats itself, and maybe it’s a mistake unveiling his mask and shitting all over you with his fucked up problems, but he doesn’t know where else to go.

Yours and Billy’s relationship strictly consisted of fun. Just joking around without any drama, maybe once in a while getting up to no good together. When you two would drink heavily in your room on weekends, sometimes he’d kiss you but you wouldn’t talk about it in the morning. Because that’d be just too much to deal with, and the packaged guarentee he got with you was that you weren’t anything to deal with. You were the most laid back, good time he’d had in this town. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d snuck up to your window and crawled in, however, it will be the first time he ever showed up this vulnerable and seeking comfort. Your comfort, specifically.

Billy’s back is still facing the door when you finally arrive, and you let out a squeal in fear before recognizing it’s him. You’d know that mullet, that jacket, and those tight blue jeans absolutely anywhere. It was your good friend Billy sitting on your floor.

“Holy shit man, you scared the Jesus outta me. Gimme a warning next time, ay?” you laugh, holding your chest to slow your quick heart down. It’s pretty late, and it’s a typical Saturday. You’re in your pajamas with a rejuvenating green face mask smothered all over your skin, as well as a bowl of cookie dough icecream in your grasp. It almost went flying when Billy had frightened you, and that would’ve been a bitch to clean off the carpet.

“I have some cookie dough icecream here. I could get you your own bowl too, if you want,” you offer, not yet hearing a peep from the boy seated on the ground. He’s eerily quiet, but you’re still oblivious to it all. “I heard this gossip around town, and oh my god, it totally reminded me of you. Some dipshit got caught stealing a bunch of Kit-Kat bars from the store right by your place,” you chuckle, then worry a bit as he remains unresponsive.

“Billy?” you tread lightly as you tip toe closer to him, then observe his shoulders shaking, and then his entire body too as if it were freezing in here or something.

“You’re trembling,” you notice, now terrified of knowing what happened to this boy to make him this freakishly twitchy. You hastily put your hand on Billy’s shoulder before the ice finally breaks. He turns his head to you , finally exposing the dried blood that’s still down his nose, as well as the black and blue all over his face. His tears were falling silently at first until he steadily starts to sob violently, letting you cradle him in your arms and shush him soothingly.

“I’m— I, I didn’t mean to, it was just s’pposted to be a joke, but I messed up so bad, he got so mad at me this time, and—“

“Who? Who got mad at you?”

Billy’s vision is blurring rapidly, to the point of barely seeing any shapes or colors. His chest is heaving up and down way too fast to be normal, and he thinks he’s about to have a fucking heart attack. His dad would probably throw a parade if his son moved into a hospital instead.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” he panics, whole body still trembling while holding you tight enough to hurt as his salty tears land on your shirt. You could give a fuck about your mask that’s still on your face and getting slightly ruined. Little bits of it is now smothering Billy’s hair, and that makes you want to smile, but this is no time to be smiling.

“Do you want some water? Fuck, I think I have a water bottle in my bag—“

“Please don’t leave me,” he implored, halting you from getting up by burying his beaten face into your chest.

“You got it! I’m staying right here, I swear. Um, I might remember the steps to doing mouth-to-mouth, if you need that?” your eyes are wide and apprehensive, praying to whatever God in the sky that Billy doesn’t die in your arms tonight. That seemed to get him to crack a smile, a weak one, but small progress is still progress. “I’m serious! I might be wishing I payed more attention in class when they talked about this stuff, but I’m here for you. I’m practically PhD certified,” you assure him, sounding less than convincing. Your ignorance is working it’s magic though, humoring Billy and making him finally take deep breaths at a normal rate, instead of the hyperventilating he’d been doing a second ago.

“Pfft. Sure, yeah, I can tell I’m in real good hands here. You got any a’ that cookie dough left, Doc?” he sniffles and licks his lips, staring at the bowl that still has a decent amount of scoops of the dessert left unmelted.

“Hell yeah, and there’s more where that came from. In fact, when you leave tonight, or tomorrow— whatever, you can stay as long as you want— I expect you to gain at least five pounds from this,” you hand the bowl over to his grabby hands, smiling sweetly as he scarfs it down. He suddenly stops for a moment and shrieks when he eats too much too fast, giving himself brain freeze. “You eat faster than my dog.”

“I’ll take the win on that challenge, actually,” he grins, inhaling more of the creamy dessert, letting out occasional hums when he gets an especially good bite of the sugary cookie dough.

After a beat of silence, you decide to get up and put a record on your record player, sticking with a classic Tom Petty album, setting it on low so that there’s some background. You know Billy favors it too, remembering all the drives you’d go on together with Petty playing through his speakers. You head to the bathroom which is only a small distance of five steps away, you grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water to clean Billy’s gross bloody face. You’ve never seen a guy look as fucked up as he did right now in real life. Only in the movies had you seen blood oozing from somebody’s face, or splotchy bruises like polka dots sitting on somebody’s face. Basically, you had no idea how to help him, but you were gonna try. He came to you after all, he trusted you enough to let you see this side of him.

“Is this the part where you give me that line, shit, what is it? Oh yeah, ‘you should have seen the other guy’?” you ask as you go up to him, making sure you’re as gentle as a feather while dabbing the damp lukewarm cloth on his battered cheekbones as he continues to eat.

“Nah, the other guy is just fine if you ask him,” Billy scoffs, finishing the bowl and putting it down next to him. He zips up his jacket further up his neck, then shoves his hands in his pockets as you tend to his wounds.

“You cold?”

“Eh, kinda. Not really though,” he answers, but you’re able to read between the lines at his body language then reach behind you to your bed, dragging a blanket over. Ignoring his protests about not needing to be babied this hard, you wrap it around him. He just shuts up and nods his thanks, holding it tighter by proving you right about how chilly he felt.

“I’m sorry about all this, by the way. I probably freaked you out, and I’m kinda wishing I hadn’t done that,” he sighs, in hindsight realizing how humiliating his meltdown was.

“Don’t apologize for showing emotion. That’s a fucked up male habit,” you scold, the boy nodding vigorously.

“It was me, you know,” he says , resulting in you raising your brows at the questionable ambiguity. He rolls his eyes at having to explain himself then goes on. “I did it. I uh, stole all those Kit-Kats from the store.”

You pause your cleansing his face then can’t hold in your giggles anymore at the fact that you were fucking right, of course Billy would be the one to do a thing like that.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up Y/N,” he claps his hands, sarcastically urging you on.

“C’mon, that’s some priceless shit!”

“At least someone found it funny,” he grumbles, staring down at his hands and the soft blanket keeping him warm.

“What’s the matter with you?” you ask playfully, covering your mouth muffle your boisterous laughter.

That stiffens the boy up, thinking back to his father’s words, “What the fuck is the matter with you, huh?”

“Holy shit, you should’ve called me! I so would’ve been there to like, cause a distraction, maybe flirt with the cashier so that you could take a pack of those expensive cigarettes you’ve always wanted to try,” you laugh, then take his silence into account and find him shutting down again. You don’t know what you said, but you had to make it right.

“Hey, hey now. Don’t get all emo on me again, we were just starting to have some fun,” you peek his undamaged chin up, looking at him in the eyes and trying to stay positive, or better yet keep him distracted from his demons that won’t quit.

“Do, um. You don’t think I’m gonna grow up a low life asshole, do you?” he asks, wanting to hear it from somebody that he’s doing a good job. Making somebody on this earth proud, because pleasing his dad is a lost cause, and getting back his mom is about as likely.

“No. Why? Is it that you think you will?”

“Kinda, yeah. That’s what everyone drills into my head anyways,” he laughs, but you refuse to because that isn’t funny.

“Well if you give me all their names, I’ll go to wherever they’re at and sock them in the face. I don’t care if they’re bigger than me, I’m fucking doing it. Let’s go, come on. What are their names?” you assert without an ounce of humor. Billy’s lips curl into a smile, huddling further into the soft blanket you had given him. He isn’t at all in control of how fucking wide his lips get when he grins, all from the fact that his short stack best friend would do all that just for him. He suddenly wants to rub it in his sad sack of a father’s face that somebody really cares about him.

And he wants to really kiss that somebody right now.

“Think it’s time you wash that uh, whatever that is,” he gestures to the face mask that’s since dried when he came, “Off your face. I could come with you, if you want.”

Your blush is hidden under the green goo, and you nod your head in confirmation before grabbing his hand to lead you two to the bathroom.

“What is it even for, anyway?”

“Oh. For like, exfoliating, and... honestly, I don’t know. It could be complete bullshit, I just threw it on hoping something might happen,” you give up trying to explain your attempt at keeping up with personal hygiene, then Billy just shushes you and points to the sink to hurry you on washing it off.

With a good three minutes of Billy staring intently at you splashing your face with water, you self consciously look away and grab a towel to dry off. He looks you down once more, shakes his head, then leans in and caresses your cheeks with both his hands. His kiss is long and makes you feel so warm and tingly everywhere, but you’re mostly worried about fucking up his face doing this. As if on cue, your nose bonks his, making him moan.

“I’m so so sorry, did that— that hurt you, didn’t it?” you ask with dread, before he shuts you up with another kiss, not letting what his dad had done to him stop him from enjoying you. After making out by the sink for as long as he could hold out for, the two of you pull back and take a breather, still panting and smiling so happily. He pets your perfect cheeks that rest in his palms, and he hums in thought before speaking.

“Your skin’s real soft,” he observes.

“Yeah? Thanks, I um. Guess the face mask isn’t total bull after all,” you laugh, most of it coming from the nerves.

“Huh. I could try it sometime, yunno, only if you keep your mouth shut about it,” he playfully threats, poking you in your stomach as you continue laughing from how it tickled you.

Billy decides to stay the night at yours, playing the little spoon in your arms tonight. Tom Petty is still quietly singing from your record player, the empty bowl that was once filled with cookie dough icecream still sitting on the floor. The boy’s face hasn’t gotten much better, and he knows he’ll have to deal with his dad again tomorrow. It’s inevitable, really. But he knows now that you’re by his side, ready and willing to even whoop his dad’s ass if he gets him hurt again. And that’s more than enough for Billy to feel like he can really pull through.

—

happier about how this one turned out:) thank you all so much for being so kind and patient and everything. the people who write on here are wonderful, the people who read on here are wonderful, everybody is so amazing and I can’t express how grateful I am!!

I really wanted to write the reader as being kinda clueless about what to do with taking care of him, cause I’ll be honest, I have no idea what I’d do if a guy like him ever came to me looking super fucked up😂

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years

Text

Not So Bad After All

Pairings: Takashi Morinozuka x Reader

Genre/Ratings: G; descriptions of a panic attack

Words: 2200

Summary: Requested by anonymous; who wanted secret-boyfriend-Mori to come to the rescue during a panic attack (and Tamaki’s reaction at discovering the secret couple). There’s dancing, y’all, that’s all I’m gonna say.

“Okay,” you murmur to yourself, low enough so that the hordes of people around you won’t hear. “This isn’t so bad, right?” You glance around at the students darting between booths of cotton candy and carnival games, laughing as they pull friends by the hand through the crowd to their next big adventure. It smells of popcorn and sugar, and brightly-colored stuffed animals sway in the spring breeze and catch your gaze. It’s a chaotic but cheerful scene, and despite your hesitation the atmosphere does tug at something light in your chest. “I’ll just find the boys, say hello, then look for quietest corner to hide in…”

Easier said than done. The receiving line to see the club- they’re holding court in the center of the fair, surrounded by twinkling lights and lush landscaping- is miles long, with dozens of girls clamoring for a spot in line closer to their idols. Luckily, you catch Haruhi’s eye and she smiles and waves you over to a little side area that doesn’t have any foot traffic. She nudges Tamaki and says something in his ear, then leads a few others over to you while the ever-popular king keeps the rest of the crowd occupied.

“Hey Y/N!” She waves, her smile bright. “We thought you weren’t gonna make it!”

“Y/N-chaaaaaaan!” Honey’s small self elbows through the throng and tackles you in an enthusiastic hug, making you laugh and ruffle his hair. “I’m so glad you’re here! Did you see the cotton candy? It’s shaped like flowers!”

“Hi, Honey,” you giggle. “Yes, I saw the fairy floss, and it looks bigger than your head.”

He grins. “That’s the best part!”

“You’ll get sick, Mitsukuni.” Mori taps his cousin on the head, then lifts him onto his shoulders. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Um…. No?”

You snort. “How convincing. Do I want to know?”

“Noooooo, nope, no you do not.” Haruhi is adamantly making the abort mission signal. “So, what are you going to do first?”

“Mmmm, not sure. Maybe the bumper cars? As long as it isn’t the Ferris wheel I’ll be fine,” you joke. You are really not a fan of heights.

“Haruhiiiiiiiiiii? Where is Haruhi? Is she lost?!”

Said girl in question rolls her eyes at you dramatically. “Senpai calls. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“HARUHIIIIIIIIII-”

“Calm down, Tamaki, I’m coming!”

You have to smother your giggles with a hand over your mouth as you watch an exasperated a Haruhi storm back over to the group. “She’s got him bent around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Thoroughly.” Mori turns his attention back to you, and you can’t help but take in how handsome he looks with the lights glinting in his eyes and the rare chance to see him out of uniform.

“Hi,” you say shyly, reaching up in your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Busy night?” He makes an obviously unhappy noise of agreement. “I’ll wander around a bit and meet back up with you at the end, then? Don’t eat too much candy,” you gently rebuke Honey, pinching his toes. He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

The pair eventually get back to their hosting- though not before Mori returns your kiss- and you watch them go a bit sadly. Mori loves his friends and likes his hobby, even if it does take time away from you. Winding through a busy carnival does sound romantic after all- he’d probably win every prize in the booth for you if you wanted. The thought makes you smile.

“Y/N! Hey!” You turn and just as your classmate Ann makes her way towards you. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” You give her a wave. “Just killing time. You?”

“Well, I was trying to get Hikaru’s attention, but considering I’m still here alone you can see how well that’s going…” she sighs, annoyed. Ann’s been hooked on the twin for months now, and it’s times like this you’re glad nobody knows about you and Mori because you just know she’d try and use you for an in with him. “Anyways. You here with anyone? Wanna be fair buddies?”

“Ummm…” it wouldn’t be your first choice, but Ann is harmless most of the time… “sure, why not?”

“Cool!” She gives you a wide smile. “I know exactly what I want to do- the Ferris wheel! Come on!”

Your eyes widen as she grabs your arm. “Oh, no, um, I’m probably just going to stick to the games-”

“Oh come on, Y/N, don’t kill the mood. It’ll be fun!” You squeak as she yanks you towards the ride, unable to get yourself out from her grip.

Despite every excuse you can think of- why don’t I just wait for you here? I can go get us some food! I heard Hikaru was hanging out by the ski ball- you’re somehow ushered into an incredibly rickety looking basket that’s swinging from rusty hinges. Ann is excited, talking a mile a minute, but you feel like you’re holding your stomach in with your hands. The clang the metal door makes as the operator locks you in sounds like a death sentence.

“Ooooooo, here we go!” The cab lurches forward and everything in you lurches with it, slowly pulling the two of you skywards.

“Oh god oh god oh god-” you’re frantically mumbling under your breath, trying to keep yourself together, but you can feel your heartbeat beginning to race and your fingers fumble nervously for some sort of purchase. “I don’t- can they stop the ride? I need to get off now!”

“Whoa, hey, Y/N- are you okay?”

“I can’t-!” The words choke up your throat, and pretty soon a full fledged panic attack is hovering just in the brink of your vision. Everything is too hot and too bright and too loud and you can’t breathe at all- the ride lurches as you halt at the top of the wheel, and a shriek escapes from you before you can hold it back- loud enough to make Ann jump.

“Jesus-! Okay, just, just calm down okay? It’ll be over soon, everything is totally fine, okay?”

You try to listen to her words, hands pressed to your face in effort to stop tears from rolling down your cheeks, but your breathing is still achy and off-tempo. The whole way down is a nightmare, every little shake of your seat setting off a torrent of new anxiety. You’ve practically leapt from the ride before it even touches down; stumbling down the steps and into the crowd with a red face and and shaky hands. Even worse, everyone is looking, watching you completely freak out, and you can’t get yourself to stop-

“Y/N.” Mori appears in front of you, tall enough to block out some of the blinding lights. “What’s happened?” You shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. “Breathe. You’re safe.”

He keeps talking, just like he has every other time he’s helped you through a panic attack. It helps to listen to his voice; ever calm and unruffled, a cool contrast to the thoughts in your head racing a million miles a minute. He takes your hand as well, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Y/N? Dance with me.”

You look up at him, choking back tears. “Mori- you- we can’t-”

Protesting doesn’t stop him from gently tugging you closer. You slip your arms around him almost in relief, letting yourself rest your forehead against his chest. His own hands drop to your waist, an incredibly familiar gesture that instantly slows your heart to a more manageable level.

It’s a callback to your first meeting- some gala so many years ago- where the long and formal night was starting to wear on your nerves something fierce. Mori had been kind enough to talk to a complete stranger, to joke with you and bring you a drink when you were clearly in no place to get one yourself. When he’d asked you to dance, you’d marveled that on the ballroom floor with his hand on your waist was the calmest you’d felt all night. Ever since, the two of you would ask each other to dance- to make the other take a break from homework, to celebrate a victory or cheer up after defeat, or just to make each other laugh. And at times like now, when the only thing that will get through to your overwhelmed senses is the feeling of his heartbeat as he sways with you back and forth.

“What are they doing…?” Tamaki comments, seeing the two of you dance quietly amidst a bustling walkway. You’re drawing some looks, but neither of you seem to notice- lost in your own world. “He’ll ruin the mood! This is not what we’re doing today, Mori-senpai!!”

“Is YN-chan okay?” Honey says worriedly, noting your red face.

“Let’s leave them alone. We’ll figure it out later.”

“But- but Haruhi, my carnival!”

“Tamaki I swear to god-”

…

When the crowds clear and all the girls have gone home, the eight of are you are left at a picnic table to watch crews of servants effectively bundle away the tents and booths. Honey is drowning in several newly-acquired plushies, the twins are devouring leftover food, and Kyoya is marking figures in his journal with a pleased expression on your face. You’re sitting next to Mori, probably closer than you should, but your nerves are still frayed. Haruhi is on the other side of you, occasionally sliding you worried glances. “So, um… is everything okay, Y/N? You seem a little…”

“Weird. Were you crying earlier?” Hikaru asks with his usual tact, words garbled from the popcorn in his cheeks. Haruhi shoots him a glare.

“Oh, um…” you fumble over an explanation until Mori subtly bumps your knee with his, grounding you. “I had a bit of a panic attack. A friend got me on the Ferris wheel and heights are…” you shiver a little. “But, um. Mori helped me, so. I’m better now.”

“Oh yeah, we saw that. Were you dancing?” The redhead raises a cocky eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

“Yes, care to explain?” Tamaki pipes in, his arms crossed and brow furrowed. “I thought we agreed that the theme was to be upbeat, casual, and fun! Dancing was not on the schedule!”

Your cheeks flame. “It’s just- something we do, sometimes.”

“Oh, because it’s a crime to dance with your girlfriend now?” Haruhi defends you with a nudge to your shoulder. “Geez, Tamaki, lay off.”

“Wha- G- Girlfriend?!” Tamaki sputters. “Mori-senpai does not have a girlfriend!” You look at the blonde skeptically. No, you hadn’t told them, but you thought they would’ve figured it out by now on their own… Mori seems to be thinking the same, giving you an amused glance. Haruhi is similarly looking at him in open disbelief, a gaze that says how thick can you be; Honey is giggling behind his hand, and even Kyoya raises a pointed eyebrow. Tamaki stares at all of you, not getting it. Then, very deliberately, Mori takes your hand in his and tangles your fingers together, right in front of the boy’s face.

“MORI HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Kaoru almost chokes at his sudden change in volume. “Geez, boss, settle down!”

“But- but I- why did no one tell me? Who knew of this… this conspiracy!?”

Now even you have to hold back a laugh- Tamaki being ridiculous never fails to make you smile. You raise the hand not attached to Mori, and you can hear Mori’s laughter rumbling in his chest as he raises his as well. Honey sticks his bun-bun’s pink furry paw in the air, Haruhi holds up two fingers with an amused smirk, and even Kyoya puts a slender hand in the air.

The twins, for their part, just glance at each other and shrug. “We could’ve guessed.”

“Wha- you knew? And you kept it from me?” He rounds on Kyoya, his violet eyes wide and brimming dramatically with unshod tears. “But why, Kyoya-senpai?”

“Well, they asked me to, for one,” Kyoya says in his dry sarcasm. “I believe they were afraid you’d react along the lines of-” he gestures at Tamaki. “This.”

“That is hardly fair! As leader of this club I should know everything that goes on! I should-” he goes on, whining and pleading and arguing at Kyoya who very pointedly keeps a straight face and nods at the appropriate times while his best friend continues his rant.

“Well.” You glance at your boyfriend. “I suppose that worked out, then?”

“Something like that,” he agrees. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Just for the record,” Haruhi leans in. “I think the dancing thing is cute.”

You shove her away, embarrassed, as the twins let loose some cat calls and Honey claps enthusiastically in agreement. “You guys are the worst,” you grumble, but you give Haruhi a smile anyways as you lean into the kiss Mori presses to the top of your head.

A/N: I had to throw in the “Mori, this is not what we’re doing today!” line XD

#mori x reader #mori x you #takashi morinozuka #ohshc mori #OHSHC #ohshc fanfiction #ohshc fic #ohshc fluff #reader insert #tamaki suoh #Kyoya Ootori #ohshc honey #ohshc hikaru #ohshc kaoru #haruhi fujioka

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