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4dtk · 3 years

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pas de deux — gojo satoru

pas de deux [pa•de•de] (french, literally “step of two”), a dance duet.

summary: striving to become a principal dancer, you’re unaware of the curious blue eyes from across the studio, only knowing of his reputation from rumours. when you have to shadow your seniors to learn a principal role and meet the infamous gojo satoru, what happens then?

word count: 11k lmfao

genre: a bit of angst, mostly fluff

a/n: gojo brainrot done. sorry this took so long lol i’m not used to writing long fics but i’m glad i did bc this is acts also as a place for me to dump my passion of ballet aha :”)

playlist here! most of them are classical pieces and a bit of ballet class music, i hope you don’t mind uwu. personally, i’d recommend watching (before or after the fic doesn’t matter hahah) the crazy talented marianela nuñez and vadim muntagirov in the pas de deux that i reference a lot in this fic. they’re my absolute favourite! (´･ᴗ･ ` )

tags: @fiona782

it was unconventional to see a ballerino don white hair during rehearsals, let alone in a company; the familiar head of white whizzes through the studio like an angel of the night, with graceful moves and powerful jumps to match those of a faerie's seamless manoeuvers through her flowers.

that was only expected out of a principal anyway.

gojo satoru, a principal dancer of the six eyes theatre. they were part of the three prominent companies that carried the ballet world and industry. behind all the glimmer and glitz lay hours of endless rehearsals and worn-out pointe shoes, as well as smiles behind kitri's fans or even the emotional miming from giselle.

he was untouchable, a leading face that carried the ballets he starred in with immense skill and an aura admired by everyone. anyone lucky to score a pas de deux with him would be torn between a world of conflict. those soft eyes that looked down at you with love were solely meant to portray siegfried's ardour for odette and nothing else.

you sigh, eyeing the confident man giving his all in the company class, no doubt hyping himself up for tonight's last show. you couldn't fall behind, either, knowing your performance was monitored way more now that you were considered amongst the directors to be promoted to principal.

"next group, pay attention, loves!" the teacher for the morning caught your attention, letting the chattering group in front head out first before the next group of dancers took their turn.

dancing was all you could remember, taking up most of your life even when you were a kid. through competitions and gruelling schedules, you managed to land in the six eyes theatre. sure, it wasn't as popular as the zen'in company or the kamo national ballet but, it still held up a wicked reputation, partially thanks to gojo satoru.

your feet naturally hail your command, placing it behind the other in a curtsey to thank the instructor for the morning class as you stretch your feet in some simple pointe repertoire.

"nervous about your posting, (y/n)?" nobara asks, rolling the arch of her feet back and forth with a tennis ball.

you shrugged, "in a way, yeah. i'm getting observed on mainly every move that i make."

the smile your best friend gives you calms you down, at least. megumi chipped in, "hey, you'll become one of the best principals around, i know it."

"yeah! and we'll go to your shows, no matter wha... oh, right, we're first soloists," itadori trails off.

you laugh, settling down to wipe the sweat from your brow. however, there's an uncharacteristic silence when you start to remove your pointe shoes.

"what if i do become principal? i'll miss you guys like hell." you mutter, rubbing off the skin peeling from your toes. removing the tape and toepads, you sigh again even after nobara lands a hand on your arm.

"stop sighing, you idiot, the company's small. sure, you'll have extended rehearsals, and i will now have to deal with yuji's noisy ass, but i doubt we're going to be separated like oil and water."

you roll your eyes, chuckling a little through glossy eyes, "true. it's just that we've always been together, through the competitions where we met and going up the ranks. hell, i wouldn't even imagine all of us becoming first soloists when we entered six eyes."

megumi raises an eyebrow, "are you underestimating us?"

putting your fingers together, you offer a sheepish smile, "just a little."

"and now you're going to become a principal, (y/n). we all know you put yourself to crazy standards that you always reach, maybe even higher than that. you're going to kill it as a principal, i'm sure."

thankful to nobara for the little speech, you pat her arm gently, easing into a stretch to prevent any tensing up later in an afternoon class.

"(y/n), they're coming over, look sharp," itadori notifies you, turning to the barre to do his own stretching as your friends busy themselves with their phones.

you take another curtsey at your instructor, along with the director of six eyes, masamichi yaga.

why... was he here now?

"(y/n), love, we'll need to talk to you about something. would you mind coming to the office later on? just before the company's afternoon class at 2 would be good."

you were at a loss for words.

was i already raised to principal? no... they wouldn't promote someone who's only danced her first soloist role a couple of times. were they going to remove me for consideration? maybe they found a better dancer to monitor?

"it's nothing terrible, (y/n), i promise." with a smile, masamichi walks away, not before patting your shoulder for reassurance.

the next few hours go by in a flash: eating lunch, lazing around in the studio, filming some tiktoks and then getting ready for another class took up most of your time that you didn't get to ponder over the office visit.

so you were definitely surprised to see gojo satoru himself, a shit-eating grin on his face once he hears you enter. he lays back on both arms to welcome the first soloist, you.

you curtseyed again to ms ieiri and masamichi. before you got to gojo, however, he held a hand up before standing up himself to bow. you let out a small smile as the familiar step led you to curtsey on the other foot.

it left a weird feeling in your bones to greet a principal dancer, but you two weren't all that close, anyway. plus, curtseying was basic courtesy in the company, where actions spoke louder than a "good morning" or a "thank you".

"nice to see you, (y/n). miss nitta, as you know," masamichi gestured to your teacher and then to the white-haired man, whose beauty never fails to amaze you, as cliche as it sounds, "and gojo satoru."

"nice to finally talk to you, miss (y/n)," he nods his head, wearing an attractive smile that had you sucking in a breath. you could only manage a smile at the moment, brought back to reality when masamichi's firm voice resonates in the office.

"you've done a tremendous job these past few months, love. we've been watching your roles this season, hopping from one position to the other with no problem at all. i'm sure you were informed that you were being considered to be principal..." you leaned forward in anticipation, "...although you'd have to let your skill shine through more before we promote you to principal any time soon."

bummer, but it's nothing you can't handle.

"we do have something to ask of you, however. your potential is clearly set in the right place, and your talent and determination are not lost. we want you to shadow and learn the repertoire of shoko ieiri and gojo satoru while they rehearse for the next season's premiere."

nevermind, it might actually be something you can't handle.

"me?"

masamichi only lets out a knowing smile. "are you up for the challenge, (y/n)? you'll get to learn and watch how principals rehearse, act and mime out the story in the hands of ballet masters and mistresses like kiyotaka ijichi and mei mei and even tengen hoshi."

your fingers dug into your thigh at the well-known names, always seeing them in the corridors but never knew how they taught or conducted rehearsals. this was your chance.

"of course, director masamichi. i'd be honoured to observe and shadow the company's principal dancers, let alone miss shoko ieiri and mr gojo satoru here. their chemistry onstage is honestly unmatched!"

okay, shut up, (y/n). you're laying your fangirling thoughts on the actual director of six eyes theatre. a simple yes would've sufficed.

"great! you start tomorrow. skip the afternoon class and come straight to the studio on the ground floor. we'll be expecting you."

you couldn't help the grin that appears on your face this time, passing a bow to everyone in the room before curtseying and almost exclaiming a "thank you!"

once you're out of the professional eye, you have a little celebratory dance outside the office, immediately fishing out your phone to text the trio.

"a...ah! gojo senpai!" you take a step back in instinct, the tall principal looming over you with nothing but an intimidating air around him.

however, nothing screams intimidating on his face, as he shoots you a polite smile and a hand to get introductions out of the way.

all you can think about is his large hand enveloping yours while he tells you his name. you're stuck in a trance, locked on his eyes cut off by the black of his sunglasses.

how would those hands feel on my hips when he's lifting me? or maybe we'd engage in a kiss in romeo and juliet...? are we doing r&j for the next season's shows?

fuck.

"uh- yes, nice to meet you too, senpai! i-"

"call me gojo, (y/n)."

you're at a loss for words, the man knowing he's left you speechless with the way he's smirking off into the other direction. you manage to get the prodigy out of your head, willing yourself to get to the company class as soon as possible. since your distraction was gone and the air cleared of any tension, you were able to hear the voices in the office.

"are you sure about this, nitta? we can't have any more dancers off their game just because they were enamoured with satoru to the point of confessing their love to him. every time we get first soloists and principals to pair with him, something always comes up."

"i'm sure, director. (y/n)'s mettle and focus on her roles are strong, and her skills are off the charts. if anything happens, we'll just pair her with another principal, like kento or something." masamichi sounded unconvinced, grunting as their footsteps increased in volume.

company class! company class!

you slipped into the studio just in time to avoid nitta and masamichi, carrying your things as you looked for the trio.

"(y/n)!" yuji catches your attention, although a little too loudly for your liking. you were left to greet the other dancers on the way to their corner, dumping your bag with much more exasperation than you expected.

"what's wrong?" megumi asks, doing some plies at the bar to warm up his feet and muscles.

"i think i should text y'all instead. let's wait for after the show tonight."

you get three nods from the trio in reply, dropping into some simple stretches as the next instructor takes over. at least gojo wasn't here...

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

the applause was deafening as you take your bow, thanking the audiences from the balcony and stalls as you gestured to your pas de deux partner, megumi. putting your hand in front of your heart was a big thing to do, giving thanks to one of your best friends and partners for a fun pair such as bluebird and princess florine.

as you walked back to join the other dancers, the principal roles were taking their bows with no doubt roars and cheers from the audience from yet another electrifying performance from the golden pair as princess aurora and prince florimund: gojo and ieiri.

as ieiri led the conductor on stage, he was the last to thank the audience, bringing the heart of the ballet to life with the score of tchaikovsky's sleeping beauty.

with one last bow, the curtain closes, leaving you to let loose from the rigid position you were used to.

"we're done!" you laugh, hugging megumi as nobara and itadori squeeze their way through the many dancers on stage. the two convey their compliments, prompting you to nudge the two on their puss-in-boots and white cat roles. the two then freeze up, staring at something that was approaching from behind.

"miss (y/n)-" gojo bows, interrupted by ieiri as she crashes into you with a hug.

"oh man, (y/n) you were great out there!" you grin, embracing her as tight as she did.

"thank you, senpai," you were practically beaming, thankful she still remembered you after being promoted to principal years ago. it was hard to communicate and talk when she had so much going on, a natural dancer who rose up the ranks fast with her hard work.

ieiri formed herself up into a refined dancer that you wouldn't think she was the young girl at your studio trying on pointe shoes for the first time years ago when you were a kid.

that was if you didn't know her personally, of course.

"here, first position, just like that!" the curious girl interacted with the kids outside a smaller studio, teaching them the various positions that at least a grade two or three class would use.

she picked up pointe work fast, obviously guided by the mentors at the school with nights of rehearsal and decision making whether she wanted to pursue this professionally.

"oh shush, you, you don't have to call me senpai, see you tomorrow (y/n)!"

ieiri bids you goodbye, no doubt to talk to the choreographers and director. gojo follow suit shortly after your exchange, not before taking your hand to plant a kiss on it.

you retract almost immediately after his lips descend on your skin, the area hot from the lighting, your sweat and your feelings.

nobara tsked, "what's his deal?" you let out a shaky sigh and shrug, hooking an arm around megumi's as you went around to mingle with the dancers.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

[nobara is typing...]

you're to shadow gojo-senpai and shoko-senpai?! no way???!?!1/!?!?

[itadori is typing...]

no way, that's so cool!

what was he like? was he in the office that day?

[(y/n) is typing...]

yeah, he was. not gonna lie, a bit cocky... kinda overheard that partners throw themselves at him sometimes too, which makes it a bit troublesome, lol.

and yes, kugisaki i'll need to observe them starting tomorrow. i cant come for the company class :(

[megumi is typing...]

Then what about Shoko-senpai?

you shake your head even though no one could see you, the forgotten tv series playing in the background while you text your friends instead.

[(y/n) is typing...]

she's too good for him, i think. they're long time friends too, but i'm not sure if any feelings blossomed since then tho

[nobara is typing...]

you don't like him, do you? i know you dont like guys that are full of themselves, altho that man rlly is that attractive .......

[itadori is typing...]

LMAOO whos the smitten one now

nobara sends a vibe check sticker, the one with both hands outstretched with a threatening stare into the screen.

[nobara is typing...]

i'll kill you tomorrow, yuji itadori.

[itadori is typing...]

you'd have to reach my height first, loser

[nobara is typing...]

you- UFGGHKHH

i'll kick your shins, thats what!!!!!!

you roll your eyes as the two of them get into another friendly banter, leaving the group chat to blow up in messages as you switch off the neglected tv.

there's a silence that feels almost too foreign, contrasting to the fact that you enjoyed silences daily. it felt criminal, almost, to be in such a quiet space with no one to fill in the gaps.

you look to your black and white poster for some clarity, the young boy standing at 16 with a softness in his eyes and a lengthened extension that conveyed his love of ballet to you.

you never knew who was the boy, getting a poster shoved into your hands in a hurry when you and your mom bought tickets to the local ballet competition. you never questioned the poster, nor had you caught the boy in the midst of his variation either, settling for a theory that his performance had already passed the day before.

"how do you think it's going to go down tomorrow?" you mumble to no one in particular, tossing and turning in your sheets that didn't quell your worries no matter how much you thrashed.

the dreamless slumber welcomes you into its arms almost immediately, although the morning after was the opposite.

"shit, shit, shit," was your mantra, jumping from place to place in your small apartment to get the things you needed for class. you manage to catch the bus in time, heading straight to the studio with no cup of tea in your hand as usual.

"(y/n)!" nobara grins, seeing you stumble through the door just as everyone finishes their individual warmups. the instructor greets everyone, eager to get into the class as soon as possible.

the thought of the rehearsal shook you up more than you thought it would, leaving you to let out nervous breaths that got worse by the time that class ended.

ieiri didn't miss the way you'd wipe your hands on your tights in worry, going over the steps more than you usually would. you had a killer memory, but it seemed that today that that ability had melted away at the sight of gojo.

"wish me luck, guys," you muttered, hurriedly packing up your things before heading off yourself. the trio only could give you a small smile, knowing you had wanted time to yourself to calm your nerves.

you had always done this for the many shows you starred in: the music and positions mimicking a recording. it was as clear as day when it replayed in your head, the different orchestral parts and the dynamic changes you apply to your steps to give the best performance, for performing your best was all that mattered. the trio understood instantly, always sending you off on your memory replay with an encouraging smile.

well, almost, for you didn't even know what the rehearsal entailed or what piece they would be dancing to.

"hi," your voice appeared meek in the big studio, the only three people there slowly getting warmed up to each other. your feet carried you into a curtsey.

"ah, mei mei-sensei! miss shoko and mr gojo," you acknowledged their presence, placing your things down right where you stood.

"let's begin then, shall we? for this is a gala event, the pas de deux couple will only be performing the entree and the adagio parts. there might be the possibility you two would have to rehearse your individual variations and the coda. still, the organisers haven't gotten back to us on the duration we'll be on stage for. with the switching in and out of the different repertoire, this year should align with don quixote. before we start, i wish that everyone is honest with each other; that way, we can learn from different views."

don quixote?! you hold in your excitement at the revelation, thinking back to the fiery portrayals of kitri and lively spanish music to pair with it. your excitement was on cloud nine while by fifteen minutes, your feet and body were seemingly screaming at you to take a break.

to say it was tiring was an understatement, at the very least. you were to only shadow ieiri's parts, and the absence of a male partner proved challenging when you were the first soloist mirroring a principal and her partner.

"(y/n) should try too, of course! come, come," mei mei beckons you over from where you went over the steps, fingers fidgeting with the waistband of the sheer skirt you'd just bought a few days ago.

"i trust that you are familiar with the wedding PDD, (y/n)?" mei mei asks.

you nod eagerly, not missing the way ieiri beams at your enthusiasm.

"good. we'll just try this part on your own. remember to keep yourself lifted and trust your partner," mei mei eyes you while gojo was already getting comfortable with a hand on your back, "would you like to try it without the music first?"

you nod cautiously. you take note of the way it burns like fire, the contact of his skin on yours. oh god, you wished you had wiped the sweat from it, although the other didn't seem to mind it due to the many partners he's worked with before.

with a quick glance, you snuck a look at the tall dancer, never much prepared for the striking blue of his eyes. however, this time, the cheeky gojo appeared to be kept under wraps, bringing forth a more solemn and nervous exterior. he did seem different and quiet, even catching the attention of mei mei-sensei and ieiri herself. they opted not to say anything.

nevertheless, the two of you narrate the lifts and steps, mixing in the counts with the french vocabulary that stuck with you throughout the years. you were surprised at how much leeway gojo had provided you, allowing you to move freely while bringing you back effortlessly for the couple work.

a smile formed on your face at the flow of your steps as the music plays seamlessly in your mind with how much you've watched different renditions of the wedding pas de deux.

"with the music now, my dears."

ieiri shoots you a thumbs-up, noticeably more tired than you, as she massages the bottom of her feet with calculated force.

the piano starts as the pas de deux passes by smoothly with minimal mishaps, save for some off balances here and there. as always, your hand tingles when it comes in contact with the principal's, willing the quick heartbeats away by thinking of his cocky smirk the other day. with the easy beginning completed, the lifts were now appearing more often.

"hold your body up during the fish dive (y/n), hold your back and position!" gojo stumbles a bit at your mistake, but for the second time around, you manage to get it, coming up from the tricky step into a beautiful arabesque.

a hasty nod, and you're off, pulling away from gojo a tad bit quicker than how you wanted to initiate it. he's taken by surprise at your change of personality, wondering where the flustered soloist had gone to previously. with the same corrections directed at you, mei mei gives you a "good job" before bringing ieiri back in.

"we'll cap you two's pas de deux at that point before the turns. ieiri, you ready to get back into it?" she hesitantly nods, albeit more relaxed than the earlier exchange.

the music starts again, and this time, you manage to gape at the couple's artistry, weaving over and under to fit the delicate notes of minkus' score. with the many turns and tour en l'airs, it now came to the difficult part of the pas de deux: where the woman will wind their hand around the man's single finger, engaging in two turns connected only by that single contact point.

they complete it easily, leaving ieiri to then balance en pointe with one leg suspended in the air. the two repeat it again with no problem, except for the fatigue seeping through their faces at a few moments in time.

as the music reaches its climax, so does the movements with increasing pirouettes and lifts. their chests heave with exhaustion, but their smiles showed that they were satisfied with the run.

it was hard to believe that gojo and ieiri only started to rehearsed this a few weeks ago, especially since these were leading roles with a reasonably complex pas de deux to pair with. nothing seemed to faze them as they received the feedback from mei mei, nor did they have trouble correcting the lift that had gone wrong earlier or the balance that ieiri fell out of.

so this was what it meant to be a principal.

"(y/n)! any feedback that you'd like to give to the two?"

"h..huh, me? i'm not sure if it'd be helpful to-"

"nonsense, hit us, (y/n). rehearsals are always a place for feedback," ieiri grins, taking your hand to bring you closer to the three of them.

"well, i think... i'll comment on the repeated melody where you'll go from the turns into the attitude balance is where it's a bit difficult. since gojo-senpai is tall, he might've put his hand a little too high. i mean, of course, lifting up is ideal, but ieiri-senpai might have some trouble balancing because of that."

they wordlessly try it out without the music, noting how gojo places his hand at a lower height for ieiri. it might've felt foreign, but it looked a tad bit better to you, with a better centre of gravity and stability.

"yeah! like that!" a smile dons your face, "does it feel better, senpai?"

"tons," gojo simply states, almost too eagerly as blue eyes uncharacteristically boring into yours. opposed to the quick glances he always gave you along the corridor or within classes, this one was a strange, longing one. ieiri's voice snaps you out of the spell, almost not wanting to leave his stare.

"way better, thank you (y/n)," she pats your arm before turning to the sound of mei mei's voice.

"alright, beautiful legs and extensions, but we still have a lot to work on, as well as getting (y/n) accustomed to more pas de deux and principal work. would you like to stay on (y/n)?"

you admired your own determination, but sometimes it was better to take a break. having just attempted the coda, you could already feel blisters forming due to your prolonged use of pointe shoes. with a breath, you let gojo complete his pirouettes, restraining the sigh coming from your lips at the perfect revolutions and momentum he had going.

a little more, and you were close to catching a breath, finishing off a quadruple pirouette and tour en l'air with gojo's help. with a slight stumble, you let out a startled laugh before taking your last step with a knee to the floor. with palm outstretched, the piano does a trill before ending off on a chord.

out of the corner of your eye, you spot gojo smiling down at you, a beam that doesn't come often with how much confidence he carries around the company.

ieiri applauds first, followed by mei mei's impressed smile.

"you execute your fouettes well, (y/n)," you bow your head in thanks, brought up unconsciously with gojo's hand as it stays linked in yours.

"thank you, mei mei-sensei. i'm just glad to have tried it out; the don Q coda is one of my favourites," you gush, "the costumes, the music is just everything."

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"to dance with your partner is one thing, but the connection is another. translate the story of the elation of kitri - her father finally gives his blessing for their wedding, and she's excited to the moon. basilio is marrying the girl of his dreams. know what and who you're dancing for." mei mei speaks over the music easily, giving pointers they go over the steps like always.

"i know it's just an empty stage. there's no set, no scene to show the joy all around the cast, but you still are dancing as kitri and basilio," mei mei says after, "let's try again with (y/n)."

rehearsals carried on like this, day after day. some days longer than the other, and on others, you were paired with another first soloist. however, he wasn't tasked with shadowing the couple every day, so the pas de deux was left to you to master.

as you wipe your sweat, ieiri waves her towel in front of you, "wanna have lunch with us?"

"i don't want to intrude-"

"it's gojo's treat," ieiri whispers, "plus he doesn't treat people often."

"is he okay with me coming alo-" she pulls on you, leaving you no choice but to pack your things hurriedly.

"(y/n)'s coming, yea?" ieiri mumbles quickly, hooking her arm around yours in a hassle as you try to keep your things from falling out of your bag.

"i'd like that." gojo says to no one, finally catching up to you two after switching off the studio lights.

"whaaaat, you're leaving so fast?" you pout, eyeing ieiri's neat tray of finished food as gojo lets her pass through in the booth.

"i'm sorry you have to stay here with this dumbass (y/n), but i have a date with the orthopaedic today," ieiri groans.

"like an actual date?" gojo jokes.

"no," she rolls her eyes, "my muscles are acting up a little lately. plus, my arch hurts more often than it usually does. it's best to just check it out, i guess. but yeah, an actual date would be nice, too."

you shrug, "eh, hard to come by when you're a busy ballet dancer in a company. bye, senpai!" you and gojo wave to her as she leaves the diner, now coming to terms with the fact that you were alone with the charming dancer, as much as you hated to admit it.

with his perfect hair and long eyelashes and the enchanting smirk he always seems to wear. not to mention the sheer strength in his leaps in contrast to the delicate grip on your waist-

"thinking about me, love? of course you are."

"what? no!" you stiffen, the blush on your cheeks immediately giving away your thoughts.

"for the record, i've thought of you, too," gojo drops a bomb, leaning over the table to plant a gentle kiss upon your cheek before leaving the booth in a hurry.

you were thankful that he was gone, at least and thankful for the empty diner, leaving you to melt in a puddle of confusion and warmth.

just like the first rehearsal, your cheeks feel hot, as does your body. the place where his lips touched seemed to burn a hole through, your gaping mouth failing to close even after a minute of staring into nothing.

fishing out your phone was the first thing your mind sought out from the endless thoughts in your head.

nobara, nobara, nobara... gotta find her contact..!

[nobara is typing...]

he WHAT???!??@

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"ieiri-senpai, what's a pas de deux to you?" you mumble after rehearsals one day, picking at the tape stuck in between your toes.

"it would have to be what mei mei said, definitely. she still says the same exact thing till today: dance and connection are two different things. and it can't go to the point where two different stories are being told by the male and female dancer. you'll need to go into pas de deux work with a mindset that you come in a pair. every correction and every emotion needs to be felt by both parties for it to reach the audiences."

"what about you?" the question catches you by surprise, resorting to humming as you think of the answer.

"it's something along the lines of your answer and mei mei-sensei's definition. you'd have to be on the same wavelength as your partner. every extension that appears or a gentle port de bras is meant to show the character's personality. you'd also have to think of the context of the ballet, i guess," you stop yourself, looking at gojo as he finishes a tour en l'air en passe. three revolutions and you realise that a. you're staring and b. you were talking way too much.

"sorry! i'm rambling again," you splutter, going back to your original task of taking out the tape from your toes.

ieiri giggles, "no, no! ramble all you want. i love listening to my juniors talk about how much they love ballet."

"sleeping beauty, just like the show a week ago, is set in the royal court, so it's hard to show aurora's personality. she's a little playful and young, although it's hard to slip that in when the wedding pas de deux for that is so grand. and then you'll compare it to the black swan in swan lake, where it's also in a royal court, but odile's the one deceiving siegfried, so there's an opportunity to include some side-eyeing in it. i personally love zenaida's version," you trailed off, "i mean, of course, there's also-"

"then what about odette?" gojo shouts across the studio, with his hands on his hips. the white of his hair matched the pureness of odette's tutu, something you always wished to wear and dance and master when you got accepted into six eyes theatre.

"don't mind him-"

your words take precedence without effort, "with the white swan, odette has to show the struggle of her spell with the frantic miming that she has to do. 'i'm the queen of the swans, rothbart the bastard turned me into a swan' and so on and so forth. because she's a swan, she has to imitate the gentle way that swans move, along with the technical challenges of the pas de deux. she's very soft and fragile, and the violin makes it all the better in showing the shyness and fear in odette."

two pairs of eyes stare at you curiously as the male's smirk leaves you to break into a nervous laugh as you fidget with your fingers.

"sorry, i'm talking a lot. too much. do carry on with your jumps," a small apologetic smile appears on your face, failing to note gojo's hesitation to move from his spot and his interest in the way you can talk endlessly about the art.

gojo's smirk merges into a smile even when he accomplishes the many pirouettes demanded of him. he'd want to hear it from your lips next time when you're wrapped up in each other.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"don't you think he's a little bit too confident for his own good?" nobara whispers to you. with rehearsals off for a few days, you were able to see your best friends again, munching up the calories lost from the afternoon class.

"yeah... for all we know, he might be stumbling around in rehearsals and picking up girls," megumi muttered.

you rolled your eyes, "he's... not like that, guys. he is confident in class and seems a bit cocky, but that's because he really does live up to his name."

"we might not know much, either. (y/n) has been in rehearsals with the guy. he's probably more focused when there are lesser people in the room," yuji chats through his food, gaining disgusted looks from the three of you when lettuce and chicken litter the table.

"well... don't go falling for the guy, yeah? i've beaten up too many exes in the past," megumi tsked, devouring the salad bowl in front of him.

"yeah, but i didn't ask you to, plus you'd do it anyway. didn't even have to ask," you grin, leaning back in your chair triumphantly.

"if i beat up gojo-senpai, i'll probably get jailed."

you and yuji stifle a laugh at his comment, but nobara doesn't seem impressed with the joke, instead focused more on you and your reactions.

you weren't actually developing feelings... right?

the memory and kiss linger in your mind like a stubborn stain, not forgetting the intense stare nobara had given you before you said goodbye to the three. a vibration from your phone snaps you out of the daze, opening your chat group to answer your friends.

[nobara is typing...]

how was rehearsal today?!???! we jsut finished class

also it's been so long since we saw u :(

[(y/n) is typing...]

so good as always is that even a question luv xx

theyre both so talented as individuals as they r in a pdd... it was rlly insightful too!

gojo-senpai kept staring at me today for some reason tho. he felt different today, a little more reserved and whatnot

[megumi is typing...]

Maybe he felt intimidated by your skill lol

"i'll take my leave first, (y/n)! i've got an errand to run. mei mei's accompanying me," ieiri grins, bringing you into a sweat-filled hug. she's used to soaked leotards, even if the grimace on your end doesn't go unnoticed by the principal.

she lets out a chuckle, "you'll get used to mixed sweat and whatnot, (y/n). see ya!"

curtseying comes easy, bidding goodbye to the principal and the ballet mistress.

you were ready to go back to the conversation on your phone, although a call of your name distracted you from the conversation.

"yes...? gojo?" you mumbled, the last name feeling foreign on your lips without the honorific at the back. you put your phone away as the studio immediately diminishes in size, seemingly putting the two of you in a tight space with nowhere to go. it certainly felt like it, with the wordless prompt of his hand.

"try the pas de deux with me," gojo proposes, pulling up a piano rendition of the score on spotify. it wasn't hard to spot the mischievous sparkle in his eye, along with the attractive grin plastered on his face.

the studio appeared calmer now that ieiri and mei mei had left, yet the conflict in your mind was loud and unwelcomed. it felt like a battle between the angel and the devil, and you were sure the devil was nobara herself, screeching at you to remind you of the shit-ton amount of conceitedness he had.

"are we allowed to? don't other people need to use the studio?" you mumble, standing up with the help of gojo nevertheless.

you're playing right into his hand, yet you took it anyway.

he waves a hand, "it's fine; you do know the pas de deux, don't you? we didn't go over it together much, but i'm sure the past rehearsals served you well."

the beginning was refined, having done it earlier with mei mei's help. it was mostly the only thing the two of you went over when mei mei was around, leaving the more complicated parts to ieiri. the fish dive comes naturally this time, imagining the glowing lights and the striking wedding tutu that kitri sports in the third act.

there are howls of laughter at the many mishaps after that. knowing you hadn't rehearsed any of it with your partner, nor with the music before, it was only fair that accidents were to happen.

"no, no, if you let me go, i will kill you- ah! gojo!" you threaten, but it's lost in your mouth as he spins you way too many times, letting a loud shriek escape your mouth.

from a failed pirouette to a fish dive where he almost dropped you (he didn't), the laughter spilling from yours and his lips weren't common in a company class with everyone trying to dance their best.

"hey, hey, lay off the hair!" gojo quips, catching your off-balanced pirouette with a secure hand on the waist. you went along with the music, anyway, giving your exaggerated interpretation of kitri just as the music builds up. that earns a laugh from him, skillfully guiding you through even with the light banter in the room

"here it comes," he mutters to you, feeling the support of gojo's hands on yours as he pushes you off the complete the double attitude turn before hearing a loud ‘thwap!’.

"fuck, sorry! oh my god," you apologise, retracting your leg almost immediately after the collision.

"ah, shit," gojo exclaims, rubbing the side of his thigh as he brings you down gently. there's a frown on his face as you take a peek at the place you hit, the only thoughts running through your head being the articles or scandals you might be caught in.

(y/n) attempting to harm six eyes theatre's golden principal dancer? (y/n)'s downfall full of jealousy? (y/n) and the infamous gojo caught in a fight?

a giggle gets you out of the trenches, hands revealed like a finished magician's act.

"i was kidding; that didn't hurt one bit," gojo jokes, hands naturally reaching forward to place them on your hips, "loosen up a bit, (y/n)."

"i am loose!" your mouth falls into a straight line, "shit that sounded bad, didn't it?" bursting into laughter, your head falls onto his shoulder as your hand reaches up to grasp at his forearm before recovering from the unexpected joke.

as the pas de deux fades off into nothing, only your breaths could be heard in the large studio, blending with the cold air of the air-conditioning and the hot breaths coming from your mouths. strings play softly from the phone, but all you can hear is the echo of the familiar melody as if it was being played in an auditorium.

gojo gives you a gentle smile that you reciprocate, stuck in that annoying hypnotisation of his blue eyes and the same soft look he gives you whenever you aren't looking.

you were looking now, though, and you'd like it even better if time stood still for you to savour this moment.

"would you like to go on a date with me (y/n)?"

there it was, the million-dollar question. it wasn't like you imagined this every night before you slept or whether he'd perform a flashy proposal to ask you out.

but even then, you thought back to the smirks he directed at every other dancer, you thought back to the conversation in masamichi's office, you thought back to nobara's advice.

"surely you're not thinking of getting wooed by gojo satoru, are you? it's dangerous, (y/n), i'm sure you know that."

"fuck, i know! but then he kisses my cheek that one time and everything feels right again. he jokes with me in rehearsals and nudges me when mei mei-sensei compliments me. he treats me to lunch and looks at me with so much passion i almost want to believe it. these past weeks of rehearsals have taught me well in dance, but i'm sure it's making my love life miserable with how much he looks at me and then goes back to flirting with the other dancers."

"i'm sorry, i can't, gojo."

you make haste with the way you're scurrying out of the studio, breaking into a jog to make sure he doesn't catch after you.

you should've said yes, right? with how much he's been building up the courage these past few weeks, careful not to let ieiri spot his sneaky glances. even the kiss on your cheek left his heart pumping long after he's left the diner.

all that to leave him in the dust.

gojo lays in bed that day, eyes fully open as he struggles to get some rest, unaware of the similar turmoil you were going through. the dancer managed to sleep after innumerable amounts of overthinking, departing from consciousness with thoughts of you, just like he always has.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

there weren't any tears involved on your end, save for some of the glossy looks you've given your black and white poster as you played with your pillowcase in anxiety.

you dreaded the next rehearsal, knowing you had to face gojo sooner or later, especially with how you reacted to his question.

"mei mei-sensei, gojo," his name was muttered instead, embarrassed with the way you rushed out of the studio the previous day. mei mei looks between the two of you, clapping her hands together to get your attention.

"ieiri pulled a nerve around her arch, which was why we've been going to the orthopaedic more often. it's a minor injury, and she's resting right now, so we'll have to work with the two of you first. we'll stop at where we always do but feel free to continue if you feel comfortable."

great. it had to be on a day where i couldn't possibly face gojo.

he says nothing at that, both you and the pianist unsure of whether you were to continue.

gojo was still in his a game, hitting every leap and lifting you without much struggle. you, not so much, as the words you said to him replayed in your head like a broken record.

you fell off your balances, you couldn't portray kitri well, you felt the weight of your body get heavier with each repeated thought of the day before. hell, even your practice tutu felt heavy.

he sighs again for the umpteenth time as the music stops, the two of you receiving the same criticism from the previous run. mei mei tries her best to be polite, although you can tell she's losing her patience as well.

"(y/n)? what's gotten into you? i understand every dancer has their bad days, but today appears terrible with the silent treatment you two are giving each other."

you swallow at the question, taking a shaky breath before opening your mouth. you look to gojo for help, but his eyes evade yours by looking at the floor with arms crossed. his head whips toward you with your following words.

"he asked me... on a date. i rejected him, rushed out the studio," you mutter, tracing the fabric of the tutu hanging on your hips.

"you asked her out on a date?" mei mei states in disbelief, looking at the ballerino with a face full of perplexity.

"yeah, i did, and i would do it again," the last whisper is lost to you, unable to hear because of the distance between you and him.

"wh- why? what's wrong with that?" you ask mei mei-sensei, yet again being pulled in by the sky blue of his eyes before looking to the ballet mistress.

"mei mei-"

"gojo never asks anyone out. ever. i'm sure you're the first one."

you can see gojo deflate at that at the corner of your eye, shoulders sagging forward in defeat while mei mei takes the chance to leave for you to sort things out.

"what...?" was the only thing you could muster, eyes following your instructor as she exits the space.

"you two are dismissed for now. talk to him about it and resolve your problem," she waves a hand at you, the tension growing by the second as she's entirely out of the studio.

"gojo?" you ask cautiously, stepping up to him to pull him from the position he was in.

"you believe the rumours, the articles, don't you?" he says, completely unrelated to the situation at hand. the look he gives you was something you couldn't figure out, snatching his arm out of your grip as he puts some distance between the two of you.

"you think i'm some cocky bitch who's just strutting around the company, free to do my own thing?" the other says it in a quiet tone, but it didn't make it less menacing than if he were to shout it.

"do you think i enjoy the way the female dancers throw themselves at me when i'm trying to focus on my mistakes and corrections? you think i enjoy the annoying ass articles written about me?"

with each question, gojo doesn't fail to intimidate you, taking a step each time until you're cornered against the barre. those questions are left unanswered as gojo's eyes bore into yours, losing its usual spark when he glances at you during the pas de deux or when he's laughing at a joke you made over lunch.

"do you think i enjoy being talked about every. single. time?! when i'm passing in the corridors, in masamichi's office, in the company classes, among the little trio you have going on. when i asked you out, it was because i genuinely felt that i could connect to you: with no wrong assumptions or bad impressions," gojo runs a hand through his sweaty hair, the frustrated emotions he felt seeping through into his speech.

"...everything felt so fake to me while getting to know you were the only real thing i could cherish when i get to hold you during the pas de deux, or when my lips landed on your cheek. it was the only real thing that brought on your blush that i imagine your lips on mine way too much."

you chose to ignore the way your heart flutters at the confession, staring up at him with apparent conflict on your face.

"then why can't you just ignore them? i'd expect someone like you to not give a shit about what people think," you whisper.

"you got to know the wrong gojo, then. just like right now, i can't face what others have to murmur around about me."

"right now...?" you caught onto his words fast, your eyes immediately spotting the curious faces of both your friends and a few other dancers fighting for a spot to watch you two through the studio door's glass.

"c'mon, pack up, let's not talk here," gojo states. within seconds, the two of you were out the door with your hand clasped in his. you were quick on your feet to leave the premises, naturally following gojo's lead to an unknown building.

letting go of his hand, you explore the space, taking note of every tiny little thing that made the apartment his own.

"sorry for the mess. i live alone and hardly clean the apartment." the nervousness from the studio stayed, the other opting to remain at the doorway in worry. the silence in the apartment grows, your eyes now trained to the floor as gojo suddenly speaks up.

"i couldn't ignore them, (y/n). their expectations disguised as gossip and rumours allowed me to perform properly. i was afraid of disappointment, of getting ridiculed if i were to make mistakes on stage. any slip-up was seen by the company's sponsors, critics, everyone. their eyes were always on me, and i could never let myself get eaten up by the articles."

"the industry is filled with competition and talent. anyone can replace anyone at any given time; you'd have to have a mind of steel to not get affected by every little thing!"

his eyes meet the back of your head, the fatigue leaking through the lines of his eyes and face. as you turn around, you meet his exhausted ones, and, step by step, you approach the man.

"i can't say i have that mind of steel that i mentioned. i hardly come close to it, (y/n). i'm happy with the company, i'm content with my place, and i'm terribly in love with ballet, but... i'm so tired, really."

your expression of unsaid pity was all you could offer, bringing gojo into a hug as he wrapped his arms around you. the way he relaxed told you of the safe space you provided, while his tight, squeezing arms showed he hasn't embraced in a long time.

a minute or two passes, relishing in the now comfortable silence as the other collects himself.

"i'm laying everything on you, fuck, i'm sorry."

you shake your head into his chest, "don't apologise, you idiot. i should be the one saying sorry for rushing off like that," pulling away, you were heartbroken to see the shine of his tears waiting to cascade down his cheeks.

"i'm sorry i ran off. i was afraid, for a different reason. my rational side always protects my heart, knowing i've had bad experiences with friends and connections. if i couldn't sustain a friendship, who was i to jump into a relationship?" you hand trails to his nape to mindlessly play with the hair there as a form of habit with your own hair.

"it was brave of you, putting yourself out so vulnerably when i only looked at the surface of what you were. i'm sure it felt like those weeks of getting to know each other meant something to you, and i threw it away in fear that you'd leave me after a few months."

"so please don't apologise, i'm sorry i ever made you feel like shit because i didn't know about the weight on your shoulders."

a smile graces your face, the hand on his nape going back to his cheek.

"and stop crying; it doesn't make your eyes look good," you whisper, wiping the tears before they fall as gojo lets out a chuckle.

"you think my eyes look good?"

you roll your eyes, "god, who wouldn't? it's like looking at the sky and the ocean all at the same time. and when you stare at me? i always have trouble looking away from you because of how striking they are."

"are they now?" distracted from the emotional vomit earlier, he grins at your description of him. you're lucky to have your hands on his cheeks just so you can feel the effect you have on him every time you offer a compliment.

"are you done complimenting me?"

"i've only commented on your eyes, though. would you like me to continue?"

"i think you should kiss me first."

you're taken aback by gojo's boldness, a surprised expression appearing at the question. the way he looks at you beats the gazes through the mirror as he warms up and the look of interest over his bowl of miso soup. it beats the glances at you during the company classes and the short, fleeting glimpses as you move together during the pas de deux. it beats every single one that your head descends back into his chest, shy at the look of adoration he was giving you.

"can i really?" you whisper in his shirt, refusing to look up even when he pulls away from your embarrassment.

as his arms unwind themselves from your middle, he crouches down to reach your eye and bring you back from a world of uneasy firsts.

"is it your first?"

this was when gojo satoru was at his rawest, with his hands cupped around your cheeks in the slowly darkening apartment as he prepares himself to kiss you.

"it is."

gojo says nothing after that, the moment of silence feeling like forever before his lips meet yours. the sunset coming in from his windows hits at the right time, because then you'd be able to point at it and describe the colours you feel when his mouth moves against yours. you'd be able to sense your heart pumping and blood flowing more clearly than when you've just finished a demanding combination of steps when he encircles his arms around you to bring you closer.

without choreographed steps, nothing feels more fitting than a kiss full of passion that isn't in a pas de deux. ironically, it was the ones you enjoyed more, more than the kisses in romeo & juliet or in manon.

oxygen becomes scarce, then, prompting you to break away from gojo just as your heart fills up with joy, way more than you can fathom.

you crash your lips into his again, now catching him off-guard. he melts into it with no problem, a laugh spilling from his lips at your eagerness.

"i like you a lot, tons, (y/n). i don't say this often, but i like you."

"it's too early to say it's love, right? because i think i like you too, a lot, tons."

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

you agreed to keep it under wraps for now, with you planning to leave half n' hour later to avoid suspicion. the dancer sacrificed his Z's so you could catch them instead, although you continued to lay awake in his bed watching the white-haired man get ready.

"are you sure the floor wasn't uncomfortable? you could've just used your own bed, y'know."

he only shakes his head, "'s okay. my back was acting up, anyway. it was basically free therapy."

you laugh at that, now sitting up fully to admire gojo's physique. with how affectionate and sweet he is behind closed doors, you swore that he was a different man. he shoots you a finger gun and a wink, knowing the way he's got you wrapped around his finger.

"see you later," gojo whispers, landing a peck on you before taking off on his own. it wasn't long before you had to get up, taking in the room and its decorative spaces. he has ballet posters and photos of his friends; he even had a diffuser.

a yawn takes over you as your hands land on the shirt on you.

fuck, you didn't have anything clean to wear. gojo had provided you with a shirt and pants from his wardrobe yesterday, rejecting his briefs with a laugh. with no bra, you decided to just use a spare leotard you keep in your bag, settling for the clothes gojo had lent you the day before.

the theatre felt different when you entered, heading straight for the studio to avoid any more prying eyes from the younger dancers.

"hey," you say, rubbing at your eyes to the trio warming up their feet.

nobara gasps, grasping at your hand immediately to pull you down onto the floor.

"are you good?" she mumbles, staring at your face for any signs of hurt or crying.

"do i need to beat him up?" megumi challenges, flexing his bicep as a joke, "i've been working out more."

"i'll go tell him off for you, (y/n)!" yuji grins, preparing to quite literally stand up to head over to the other corner of the room.

"no! i mean, yes, i'm good. please don't beat him up, and... sit down, yuji." you sigh.

"nothing... happened, guys. i know what it looked like in the studio yesterday but there wasn't any catfights or physical fights," you pause, looking at megumi, your hands instinctively going to the pouch where you kept your shoes, "we figured out our problem and solved it, that's all."

"so why are you wearing his shirt, then?" nobara shoots without hesitation, causing you to halt your movements for a bit. beside you, you can hear yuji choking on his water.

"i... we.. uhm," you trail off, trying to find the right words to fill in the gaps of your explanation. your eyes flit around the room before landing on gojo's, finding that his were already fixed on you.

"uh... yeah... we cleared up our differences and talked a bit," you mutter, lips breaking into a smile before you break eye contact with him. the trio stay dumbfounded at your word vomit, witnessing the exchange with the principal dancer with puzzlement.

"oh my god, did you guys fuck?" nobara whispers.

"what? no!" you laugh, whacking her shoulder as you stood up to loosen up your feet, preparing for the class conducted by masamichi himself today.

"i'll explain everything when i get back home, okay?" you say to the three of them, stuck in a side hug with nobara as her arm stay loosely wrapped around your waist.

they can only offer you their nods, bidding you goodbye with a slight wave.

as you enter the same rehearsal studio, there's only a single lone dancer in it, stretching over in a middle split as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

"hey," you call out to gojo, setting your bag of things down while you run up to him. he stands up instantly, pulling you into an embrace that shocks you with the sheer force of it.

"did you already miss me? that's fast."

he mumbles into your hair, "mhmm... shut up, please."

you laugh at that, recovering from the hug despite the other's protests.

"c'mon, i need to warm up, plus we're supposed to keep this a secret, right?"

gojo whines but lets you go anyway, but not before he plants a kiss on your hand as he lets you do your own thing. the next set of footsteps catch you in surprise, eyes widening at her presence when you run up to her in excitement.

"ieiri-senpai! are you feeling better?" you ask, peeking around at her feet, where she limped on earlier.

"yes, i am, (y/n)," she pats your head and realises your choice of clothing. you noticed her smirk, but before you could counter her question, she beats you to it, "and... i've seen that the dumbass finally made a move."

there's no denying the blush that makes its way onto your cheeks, seemingly oblivious to the stares from everyone when in reality, they were curious to know of what happened the day before.

"yeah, i guess he did," you sigh dreamily, giving off your feelings as ieiri could only smile at your situation.

mei mei enters the room with authority, making you perk up at her words as she walks to the centre of the barre with purpose.

"i trust that you've solved everything, yes? because you two have been quite the talk around the studio," mei mei states, braiding her hair into a side braid as ieiri takes a seat.

"i took her hand to get away from the crowd, sensei. if anything, i should be blamed for engaging in contact that might've given off the assumption that we were dating," gojo steps up.

"but you are dating, aren't you?" mei mei grins, putting on her shoes.

"i..." you tried to speak, but gojo interrupts you before then.

"only if she'll have me, then yes, we are."

you fight back a smile, stepping forward to catch his hand in yours. he's shaking, not at all the confident gojo satoru that you've become so accustomed to.

"yes," your single affirmation holds so much weight, looking up at him with as much joy as he did with you in the morning.

"okay, good! i've gone through enough of gojo staring at you from across the room. let's continue," mei mei casually says, "i'm sure (y/n) has heard the news, yes?"

she's quick to pull you out of your thoughts of gojo looking at you during rehearsals with the question of the news that left you texting the trio at 1am.

[nitta-sensei is typing...]

(y/n)? do you have a minute to spare?

[(y/n) is typing...]

yes sensei?

what seems to be the...

you're cut off by the abrupt phone call as gojo brushes his teeth, speaking to you, though incoherently, through the foam and lather in his mouth.

"yes, nitta-sensei? what is it?"

"i'm sorry for conveying this news over the phone, and i was too excited to wait until the next day. you might or might not like it, but... you're to replace ieiri in the gala event for now." by now, gojo had stopped brushing due to your lack in reply.

he peeks his head out of the bathroom as nitta continues, "she has to heed her orthopaedic's advice and take a break for now, but since you've been shadowing the two for a good amount of time, masamichi thinks its best you take up the role of the female part."

your jaw stays dropped even after nitta says her goodbyes, the phone lit up due to your shock.

"(y/n)? what happened?"

"i'm going to be dancing with you, gojo," you say quietly, "i'm dancing the pas de deux with you!"

you bow your head in acknowledgement, "yes, i have."

ieiri sees the hesitation since now the original dancer was seated in front of you. she shoots you a double thumbs-up as motivation while mei mei briefs you on the gala like she did with the couple at the start.

it's short, and within the next moment, you're already flying through the sky with gojo's help. the steps start to become more apparent and distinct to you, letting the pianist lead the way as the lifts and pair work merge together like a seamless thread.

mei mei is firm in her teaching, knowing your weaknesses and strengths by heart with the past rehearsals that she's done. stopping the two of you before letting ieiri take over was routine, but for now, ieiri contributes with her wisdom from the chair instead.

the rehearsal progresses slowly, opting instead to complete it bit by bit as the weeks turn into days and the days turn into hours. you had to take extra care of your feet, icing them and making sure your blisters don't distract you as rehearsals extend longer to ensure your best performance.

when you had your own commitments, your best friends had theirs, fulfilling principal or first soloist roles just for the gala. there was hardly any time for you to see the trio, but you made up with late facetime calls and online dinners with them.

even with the distance in the company class, gojo never fails to make it up to you with kisses under the moonlight as you watch video after video on don quixote, although taking a specific liking to the pairing of nuñez and muntagirov.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"you ready?" gojo lets out a nervous breath, already hearing the chatter of the gala attendees behind the curtains. beside you, other dancers are warming up for their own parts. some were doing a solo while others were doing a pas de deux like you were, but nonetheless, everyone gathered here was to share the love for ballet.

"hell no, i'm shaking," you laugh, playing with the elastic that was to go over your middle finger. a beautiful, white tutu was tailored just for you with minor tweaks from ieiri's tutu while they were in the midst of completing it. to honour and perform the role of kitri gave you immense joy and excitement, even though you were jittery at the responsibility passed on to you.

"how are you doing?" nobara asks, making you jump at the sudden voice. she lets out a giggle, "sorry."

"i'm... very nervous. is that even a question?" you ask her, holding onto her exposed shoulder a little too tightly. she dons a breathtaking, flowy costume with puffy sleeves and intricate detail. at the same time, yuji was suited up as nobara's partner in a pair of yellow tights, completing the couple look in the comedy-filled la fille mal gardée.

"oi, hot pants, come here! my partner's here finally after taming his hair," nobara jokes, pulling yuji over. they lean into each other's sides naturally, posing with peace signs and big smiles that they were asked to convey to the audience.

"good luck out there," megumi catches your attention, awkward as can be, as he pulls you in for a hug. his pas de deux partner is smiling at you beside him, taking your hand in hers.

"your rehearsals with gojo-senpai are incredible, (y/n)-senpai! all the best for your performance later," she bows, clearly relieved at saying the things she wanted to say.

"all the best for your le corsaire, too," you grin, waving them off excitedly before joining your basilio at the hip.

"you'll do great out there, trust me," gojo places a peck on your temple, holding you close by the waist as you warm up together. there's shared laughter between the two of you, exchanging jokes to calm your nerves and keep your mind moving. with the rush hour backstage, it was imminent that the show was starting soon, the many dancers continuing their warmup without trouble.

only you seemed to be on edge, performing as the first couple of the night for a role you've always loved and adored while watching from the balcony of auditoriums.

"i will. we will." you nod, hands twined with the other's as the curtains make their way up.

"breathe. we'll nail this like we always do," gojo kisses your linked hands, staring down at you with those same eyes you fell in love with. a smile replaced what you couldn't say out loud, bumping your head into his chest as an affectionate gesture, "let's go."

among the cheers and blinding lights, you could only focus on gojo's hand on the small of your back as he led you out. with practised steps, nothing could faze you except, maybe, his dazzling smile and the gentle eyes he has on you for the whole pas de deux.

living the life of an innkeeper's daughter was what you had to portray. while your 'father' was hesitant at first, he's finally given you the blessing to marry your lover, basilio. the glimmering tutu and effortless partnership was only half the job done, and for the radiant smile you had on at the moment, you hoped at least ieiri and mei mei would be proud of the story you were telling together with gojo.

the feeling from rehearsals is amplified on stage, with the orchestra's power and the costumes, providing you with a feeling like no other. and as gojo approaches with a flawless tour en l'air, you realise that with how much work you put in behind the scenes, the result always pays off.

as gojo has his hands on your waist, twirling you around like nothing in a quadruple pirouette, you realise that every step was made possible with the help of ieiri and mei mei and your best friends and lastly, gojo satoru.

the golden, treasured prodigy which you somehow managed to develop feelings for. the talented principal who whines when you won't refuse to give him affection and the once-cocky individual who softens just at the sight of you.

and as the music reaches the end, you want nothing more than to stay in this pas de deux with gojo satoru, in a dance of two.

you end off on an incredible note, chest heaving from the demanding technicalities of the pas de deux. nevertheless, your brain shuts out the thunderous applause, with some imparting you with their standing ovations and others who decided to scream 'bravo!' at the stage.

gojo offers a grin, bringing you close with a hand as you thank the audience with endless curtseys. bowing to your partner was next, thanking him for the interminable rehearsals and that hectic day of emotion from the studio right up to his home.

you almost practically run backstage with the adrenaline flowing through your body, the next act already on stage for the gala.

"oh my god, oh my god!" you whisper-shout in pure glee, hugging gojo close the moment you were out of view of the audience.

"you did it."

"we did it," you reassure, pulling from the embrace to smile up at him. you could feel the dancers' eyes around you, not knowing whether they should look to you or to look away.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, "'s okay, let them look. i don't mind it when i'm with you."

"just to confirm, we... shouldn't kiss, right?" you mumble, but you inch closer to his lips anyway.

"no... i don't think we should," gojo grins, indulging you in the very kiss you've waited for, knowing that right now, it wasn't the stage lights, nor was it the general heat after completing a difficult pas de deux.

it's as if the world gave you rose-tinted glasses, because that was all you could recognise now as gojo pulls you from backstage with your hand tightly locked onto his. he wasn't the six eyes theatre's prized principal, he was just gojo as you run past the many costumes being hung with the click-clacking of your pointe shoes.

you could compare it, almost, to running across a field with a billowing dress behind you, but alas, you were satisfied with being his kitri. for when she and basilio have a life of marriage ahead of them, you and gojo satoru have nothing but longing glances and shared laughter over your stumbling slip-ups in the studio as you tackle one act after the next.

the pas de deux was a connection and a story, and the both of you were just starting out yours.

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Incompatible ships w/ Todoroki, Kirishima, Bakugou and Midoiya

Request: hii! i love ur posts so i thought why not request ajbakaha,, can i ask for todoroki, kirishima, bakugou, izuku getting jealous bc their s/o is getting shipped with another student :D (it can be their relationship is still a secret or smth) btw i love your posts!! it's free serotonin!! 😽😽- anonymous

Secret relationships are my favorite trope. This and friends to lovers. I live for these types of fics. Random fact, my allergies are acting up bc I helped take down the Christmas decorations and now my hands are on fire. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff, minor suggestive themes not something major though

Todoroki Shouto

-Things like jealousy are a rare occurrence in your relationship.

-Todoroki is the type of boyfriend who trusts you blindly and would put his own life in your hands without a single hesitation.

-Sometimes it bothers him how other people effortlessly flirt with you but he knows that nothing will come out of it no matter how much they chat you up.

-He knows you can handle yourself and get out of a situation if things start getting out of hand.

-And if you can’t, he will butt in glaring down at the person who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

-Everyone around you seem to believe that the two of you are really close friends; none of them have caught a whiff of your relationship and you are proud of yourselves.

-I mean it is pretty hard keeping so many romantic milestones hidden from your friends.

-But alas you both knew that keeping all of this to yourselves would be for the best.

-Now, we all know that the girls of your class drool over any remotely romantic interaction you have.

-Same goes for everyone actually.

-Oh Kirishima held the door open for you the other day?? I can see a new ship sailing.

-Sero helped you pick up your stuff when you bumped into a wall? Your knight in shining armor.

-Really any sort of kind gesture was interpreted as romantic interest at this point.

-The worst part of it all was the ship they had created and have been simping over for the past three months.

-You had managed to create an unexpected friendship with Monoma from class 3-B.

-The agency he interns in is right next to yours so you take the same train and then walk to almost the same building every single day.

-You see him during patrol, the pro heroes you work under have paired up once or twice so a friendship was inevitable.

-So imagine the surprise on your classmate’s faces when Monoma began waiting for you outside the 3-A dorm building.

-Mina wouldn’t shut up about how cute you two were together and what a perfect match you made.

-Soon enough the other idiots joined the party and you were drowned in ‘awwww’s and ‘love story in the making’s.

-You got tired of explaining that he was just a friend, that you weren’t interested in him.

-The fact that you could feel Todoroki’s gaze burn through your back didn’t help at all.

-Your boyfriend had asked you about Monoma because he too found it weird how he waited for you everyday.

-The boy’s presence didn’t bother him at first.

-He was lowkey grateful that you finally had company on your way to the agency considering he couldn’t walk with you since his building was in the opposite direction.

-It started becoming a problem when all he could hear during the breaks was the stupid ship name the girls had created.

-He could see how visibly uncomfortable it made you and how you would seek for his gaze during those moments.

-Then they started talking about how cute your kids would be and that’s when Shoto had enough.

-It’s one thing hearing about how cute your girlfriend would be with someone else and it’s completely different when you hear about their potential offspring.

-Grabbing your wrist he basically dragged you out the classroom and into an empty hallway, pinning you to the nearest wall before connecting his lips with yours.

-You let a surprised gasp which gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss, making you grasp onto his shirt as your knees gave out.

-After what felt like an eternity he let you go for air before attacking your jaw, neck and collarbones.

-Soon those soft kisses turned into little love bites.

- “Sho you’re gonna leave a mark.”

-Releasing your skin from between his teeth, he admired the reddish hickey he had left at the base of your neck.

-He was sure your shirt’s collar could cover it up just barely.

- “That’s the point, love.”

-Intertwining your fingers, he led you back to class, going to his seat with a proud smirk on his lips leaving a very flustered puffy-lips-messy-haired you in his wake.

Kirishima Eijiro

-Kiribaby is not the jealous type.

-Like only if you give your undivided attention to a puppy and you smother it with all your love and affection then maybe, just maybe, he will pout a bit and ask for his own fair share of love.

-He trusts you just like Todoroki does.

-Nothing has ever happened to suggest that he should worry about others stealing you from him so he doesn’t worry.

-Plus you are always together no matter what.

-Almost everyone from your class knows that you are together so the shipping doesn’t start from them.

-Oh no.

-It starts from class 3-B who has seen you talk to Tetsutetsu quite a bit this past few weeks.

-You might wait for him outside their classroom during lunch breaks.

-They have caught you hanging out outside of the school grounds.

-So the only logical explanation they can come up with is that you two are either A) dating or B) have a thing for each other and are getting there.

-Soon enough rumors start circulating.

- “Did you know that someone from the hero course is dating that metal guy from class 3-B?”

- “Yeah yeah I heard it’s that girl Y/N. They do look really cute together, not gonna lie.”

-Eventually these rumors reach Kiri’s ears and they kinda get to him.

-He knows that you haven’t been hanging out extra with Tetsutetsu since every time you guys go out he is always with you.

-You are the type of couple who does everything together, literally.

-Apart from being in different agencies ya’ll are holding hands almost 24/7.

-So he really doesn’t get what everyone is talking about.

-Mineta doesn’t help.

-He really doesn’t.

-He starts making scenarios about what you do while Kirishima is out of the dorms; how you have wrapped both homies around your finger and toying with them.

-Oh the very vivid scenes he creates with all three of you in a…. compromising position.

-Kirishima hates that most of all.

-The words coming out of Mineta’s mouth disgust him to no end and soon enough he is walking to your dorm ready to talk this through.

-Opening the door you greet your boyfriend with a smile and a quick peck but you immediately know what is on his mind.

- “Baby what are we gonna do?”

-You basically whine at the question.

-He spends the whole night at your dorm brainstorming ideas until you both pass out on your floor.

-And your solution to the problem?

-Ignore the whole thing and continue on with your lives.

-He suggested maybe leaving a mark somewhere *like our boy Sho* but you shot him down saying that they would just think Tetsutetsu did it.

-After Monoma catches you in your classroom making out on your desk though the rumors soon die out.

Bakugou Katsuki

-Crazy boom boom boy.

-Your relationship is a secret because he doesn’t want to deal with all the other idiots gushing over your relationship and getting all up in your business.

-Your relationship is a sacred thing he has sworn to protect and he won’t let Mineta’s ugly ass hands get anywhere near it.

-Gonna taint it even with his thoughts.

-Guard dog Bakugou bark bark.

-It’s fairly easy to maintain a secret relationship with him.

-Sure he might be a tiny bit calmer with you and maybe just maybe his eyes linger on you during training but yeah he treats you just like he treats all the other extras he is surrounded by.

-Now, Bakugou is kinda *read a lot* jealous in general.

-He doesn’t like when people he doesn’t fully trust or like, talk to you or are close to you.

-He has butted in on your conversations with Todoroki one too many times and the poor crispy baby is so confused like why are you like this?

-I just want the chemistry notes please let me get them in peace for once.

-You have chastised him about that manier times but your resolve melts when he pouts *YES HE POUTS AT YOU RWIHPWIE* before wrapping his strong arms around you.

- “I just don’t wanna lose you, dumbass.”

-You can barely make out his words as his face is buried in your stomach but you heard him and now you are tearing up at the pure emotion he is showing at these moments.

-At the end of the day though, he trusts you.

-He may not trust the other horny extras around you but he fully trusts you.

-There’s no doubt about that.

-You can imagine ,though, the instant rage he felt when he heard the girls talking about you and Deku.

- “They do make a great couple.”

- “Have you seen how they look at each other?”

- “Good for her, Deku is perfect boyfriend material.”

-First of all, how dare you, second hold the fuck up…..when did this become a WhoRe hOuSe?!?!?!?!

-Legit someone has to shake him out of his stupor after that one.

-You look at Deku in a certain way?

-Fucking DEKU?!?!?!

-THoughts are swirling in his mind almost pouring out of his ears when he hears the voice.

-That annoying ass voice that he has engraved in his brain since childhood.

-And the moment his eyes land upon Deku and you speaking, he sees red.

-He is pouncing on Deku in -5 seconds, the poor green haired boy completely unaware of what hit him, literally.

-They are on the floor wrestling on another, you screaming at Katsuki to stop and get his shit together while your boyfriend is spewing curse after curse at the OFA user simultaneously asking what the hell he was doing with HIS girlfriend.

-Aizawa had to break them up.

-They both got detention even though Deku did literally nothing.

-Katsuki was denied cuddles for a whole week and he was set on explaining duty now that the cat was out of the bag.

Midoriya Izuku

-Izuku is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

-He is loyal, shows emotions, is good at communicating with you, has incredible date ideas although he is kinda forgetful at times and his packed schedule doesn’t leave enough time to spend with you, at least not as much as he wants, but he always tries to make up for it in other ways.

-You love how much trust he puts in you.

-You couldn’t be more grateful.

-But Izuku has his insecurities.

-At times it becomes hard for him to understand why exactly you’ve chosen him to love when you could have anyone you wanted in this school.

-He can’t wrap his pretty little head around the reason why you stay with him when the only thing you get out of all this is others saying you deserve better than some crybaby.

-It has become his mission to prove to you that he isn’t what others say he is; he isn’t some crybaby, he is a hero in training who won’t hesitate to risk his life for you.

-You have reassured him multiple times that you don’t care what others say.

-You fell in love with him, him and all of his flaws.

-No one told you that you should fall for him and no you didn’t agree to date him out of pity.

-Most of the time you manage to erase those thoughts from his mind replacing them with the warm feeling of your love.

-But there comes a time when no matter what you say, the words of other people will get the best of him and it will be a struggle to build himself back up.

-He is thankful to have you by his side during those moments because then he truly feels weak, he feels helpless, he knows these things shouldn’t bother him.

-He loves you and you love him end of story, but they do get to him.

-One of the worst times he questioned if he was good enough was during your third year.

-Being in the support department you couldn’t be by his side 24/7 but you did always manage to see him during breaks to the point the whole class knew you and slowly became your friends.

-The thing is they thought you two were also friends; neither had ever mentioned your relationship and things felt so comfortable between you that they assumed that you were really close friends.

-Izuku had suggested keeping your relationship on the down low; him being in the hero course and having created rather the reputation, he was afraid that you would be dragged into something dangerous.

-Plus All Might advised you two to keep it a secret and All Might’s words are law.

-Izuku loved how well you got along with his friends, it meant that when he revealed your relationship they would all welcome you with open arms.

-What he didn’t expect though was for them to start shipping you with someone else.

-For some weird reason the girls of his class started obsessing over your interactions with Bakugou and soon after that they started trying to get you two alone in the same room, much to your dismay.

-In reality, Bakugou was the only person who knew about your relationship.

-He had ran into you as you were leaving Izuku’s dorm room, catching you two kiss goodnight.

-Bakugou, as much as he disliked Izuku, would never get in the way of your relationship and he hated this ship shit as much maybe even more than you did.

-Izuku was ready to crawl into a whole and die.

-You had to stay in his room for almost a whole month to calm him down completely, him flying you to your own building in the morning so you don’t get in trouble.

-It was a difficult time aand his classmate’s comments didn’t help one bit.

-The tipping point was when he overheard Mina devising a plan of setting you guys up.

-He walked down to the common room the next day with you next to him, hands intertwined, a hickey barely visible under the hem of HIS shirt, shocking everyone in the vicinity.

-A new ship was created *after they harassed you for answers*

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22 @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @akita-l-lynn @angel6786 @meena-in-a-nutshell

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jishyucks · 4 years

Text

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

215 notes · View notes

jackrrabbit · 4 years

Note

im glad your opening asks for haikyuu bc not to be a whore or anything but i want to be wrecked and degraded majorly by oikawa. like ill let that man stomp on me of he were real😌

Fanatic [pt. 1] /// Oikawa x f!Reader (18+)

A/N: Skipped ahead in my asks a bit to answer this yummy little req!!

Summary: Oikawa takes advantage of a devoted fan for some stress relief after a bad match. [Part 2]

Warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, humiliation, manipulation/coercion, crying, basically Oikawa is mean to you, yandere vibes?, shy reader, oral fixation/saliva, all characters adults

You’ve been in love with Oikawa Tōru since you were 14 years old.

Well, love is a strong word—maybe admiration is a better description of the way you feel about him? Or maybe not. Is admiration enough of a reason to attend every game that he’s played for the past 4 years, ignoring the hours of travel and dozens of unexcused school absences? Would admiration explain downloading and rewatching every play and amassing a collection of all his press mentions and magazine articles, to the point where there’s a table in your bedroom devoted to him that your friends have jokingly dubbed the “Oikawa shrine”? Was it admiration that made you transfer high schools in the middle of your third year just so you could join the Aobajohsai cheering squad?

No, the word you’re looking for isn’t admiration. It’s fanaticism. Look, you’re not proud to be such a die-hard, but you can’t help it. It’s not even romantic for you. You’ve never wanted to be his girlfriend. The look of joy on his face when he scores is all the reciprocation you need for your feelings.

You’re not an admirer, you’re a fan. You could watch Oikawa score points until the end of time—which is why your heart breaks a little bit every time he loses.

Really, you just want to cheer him up. Is that so wrong?

“Do I know you?” Oikawa’s head is cocked to the side, but he couldn’t look less interested. You fidget under his stare—he’s even taller in person than he looks on the court—and wonder if maybe it was a bad idea to wait in the hallway for him like this. It’s not like you were trying to corner him or anything, you just wanted a chance to tell him not to worry about losing the match.

When you can’t find the voice to answer, Oikawa’s eyes narrow and he leans in toward you a fraction. “Oh…wait. I’ve seen you before. You’re on the cheering squad, aren’t you? That third-year transfer? You’re in Makki’s class.”

You nod rapidly. Who knew it would be so hard to talk to him in person? You really should have rehearsed what you were going to say.

“So…” he prompts.

“Um, I—“ Why is your mouth so dry? “—I just, I wanted to say, I mean I know you lost but, well—“

“Spit it out.” He’s not smiling. In fact, he looks annoyed. You’ve pretty much only ever seen him beaming out of your TV screen or concentrating during a game, so this is new.

And how can you blame him? Aobajohsai just lost brutally on a block from his serve, and now he has to deal with this random fangirl who can’t untangle her tongue long enough to eke out a full sentence. You’re an idiot. “I—sorry, I just wanted to say as a fan that you looked really cool out there! So don’t—don’t worry about…you know. Um, losing.”

He looks at you a second too long, and inside you’re kicking yourself. Just your luck that the first time you meet your idol in person, you’re incapable of talking to him like a human being. But after a long moment passes, he rocks back on his heels and smiles, his face so neutral and handsome that it’s hard to even remember he was almost glaring at you a moment ago. “What’s your name?”

“Um, it’s (Y/N)…”

“(Y/N)? Ah, okay. Thank you.” Oikawa tilts his head back and runs his fingers through his bangs, and your eyes trace the motion unwillingly. His hair is damp from his post-game shower, dripping cold water onto the towel draped over his shoulders. “To be honest, I’m in a bad mood right now.”

“Oh, well—of course! I mean, no one would expect you to be happy, not after you just lost.” Stop rambling. “And, you know, you should take time to think but if there’s something—anything I can do to help—“

His eyes glint and he takes a step toward you, close enough that you have to tip your head back to meet his gaze. “Anything? You’ll do anything?”

There’s something about the way he says anything that makes you want to take it back. But how could you? You’re his #1 fan. You’d do his laundry for a month if he told you it would make him feel better. Your chin bobs up and down in agreement.

“Really? Thanks, (Y/N)! I think there’s something you can do to help me out.” Your cheeks flush pink at his praise, and you’re so thrilled that you barely even notice him grabbing your upper arm with a grip so tight it hurts. You do, however, notice when he starts steering you down the hallway into into the men’s bathroom.

“Um…I think this is the men’s room,” you tell him nervously as he folds the two of you into a single stall.

“Don’t worry, there’s no one in here.” Oikawa backs you into the stall before turning and sliding the lock shut with a click.

“But why are we—ah?” Your statement is cut off abruptly as Oikawa reaches toward you, immobilizing your jaw so he can forcefully shove two fingers into your mouth. You don’t want to hurt him, so you stop yourself from indulging your immediate impulse and biting down. What are you doing? you try to ask, but with Oikawa holding your mouth open the question comes out as a series of unintelligible gurgles.

When your frantic gaze meets his, he looks…different. He’s smiling, but it’s not the innocent grin he shows to the press or his teammates or his fans. There’s something wrong with his eyes.

It takes you a second to place the emotion, but when you do a chill passes through you. Oikawa looks angry.

Your arms twitch at your side—should you try to pry his hand out of your mouth?—but before you can make a move his other hand pushes your shoulder into the door of the bathroom stall. You can’t move. You can’t break his grip. He’s so much stronger than you.

What is happening?

“Hey, want to know something?” As he speaks, his fingers swirl around your mouth invasively. “When I saw you in the hall, you looked really…pathetic.”

Pathetic? It’s nothing you haven’t said to yourself, but hearing it from the man you’ve idolized since you were in middle school is agonizing. You try to swallow down your unhappiness, but you can’t—not while Oikawa is still forcing your jaw open.

“Yeah…” he says, an air of dark amusement coming over him. “Waiting for me and begging for my attention like a little puppy dog. Thinking you’re going to make me feel better. What did you say you’d do for me?”

You said you’d do anything. How were you supposed to know he’d meant…whatever this is?

“Anything, right? You said you’d do anything for me?” His fingers probe deeper into your mouth. “Can you try to say it?”

“Eh— An— hin—“ you choke out, well aware that you’re not making sense. Your eyes squeeze shut so you can concentrate on not gagging.

“Mm-mm, not quite. You’re not trying hard enough.”

You try again, but you can’t make your mouth form the right syllables. Why is he asking you to do this? Why are you letting him?

And why is his knee nudging your legs apart?

The effort of trying to speak with your mouth held open is making your jaw ache, and you can’t stop your saliva from spilling over your lip and onto your chin. Oikawa’s thumb leaves your mouth to wipe the drool off your face. “That’s kind of disgusting. Can’t speak in full sentences, can’t control yourself…what exactly are you good for?”

Your cheeks burn and you almost want to cry. It’s not your fault you can’t swallow properly. You shouldn’t be tolerating this, you should just bite down and make him deal with the consequences…but you know you won’t.

“Say ahh,” Oikawa tells you, tipping your head back to face his. He’s leaning in—wait, is he going to kiss you? No way, that’s impossible. Why would he be so mean to you and then turn around and treat you nicely? Still, you can’t keep your stupid heart rate from speeding up as he gets closer and closer, his eyes never leaving yours—

Until he spits. Directly into your open mouth.

His saliva feels disgusting—warm and sticky and foreign as it sits on your tongue. Oikawa releases his hold on your jaw but you don’t move, instead just standing there with your back to the stall door, staring at him in shock. Your mouth hangs open like you’re…showing it to him or something. What are you supposed to do? Spit it back out? Or—

“Swallow.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to swallow. You don’t want to have his spit in your mouth at all. If you think of it as if the two of you had kissed, it’s not even that bad, but you didn’t kiss. He did this to you to make you feel filthy, and it’s working. There are tears springing up in your eyes, and you’re certain it wouldn’t take much for them to fall.

But he’s not moving, he’s not letting you past him, and you can’t keep your mouth open forever. Maybe if you do this you can apologize for…whatever you did that made him so angry, and he’ll let you leave. Logically, you know that swallowing his spit shouldn’t feel any different from your own, but it does.

Oikawa watches the movement of your mouth and throat carefully as you give up and swallow. This is weird…the whole situation is strange. It’s not like him to do these things to a fan, but he’d been upset about the match and you just showed up and said all the wrong things so sincerely that he was caught off guard by how much he wanted to bully you. There’s something about the contrast between then and now—your shy, eager expression when you were rambling to him in the hallway versus you swallowing his spit looking like a kicked puppy—that he finds adorable.

Adorable? Yeah, adorable. Your pitiful face is so cute it’s making him hard.

Well, what do you know. Looks like you’re going to help his bad mood after all.

“I guess that’s one thing your mouth is good for,” Oikawa says. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and then slide off to the side. You can’t even look at him. He’s grinning at you—laughing at you. He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t—“ You have to stop mid-sentence to swallow again, trying to pretend your mouth doesn’t feel repulsive inside. “I don’t understand? I just wanted to cheer you up…”

“Did you?” Oikawa steps back and tilts his head to the side again like he’s assessing you. “Let me guess. You’re trying to get fucked, aren’t you? Saw me on TV and thought this was your chance to try out the real thing in person? You’re not the first.”

“That’s not true!”

“Are you sure? You’re saying you never wanted me?”

You shake your head from side to side, but you can’t muster a verbal denial. Your intentions had been innocent when you approached him, but the truth is…you’ve thought about it. You’re not one of those fans who thinks they’re destined to fall in love with their idol, but it would be a lie to say you’ve never…fantasized, late at night when you’re by yourself, about him kissing you and touching you and treating you like a princess. And when the fantasies get a little more heated, you have a habit of letting your hands drift down between your legs…

In your imagination, Oikawa is kind. Gentle. He cares for you. It couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, and he reaches up under your skirt to rub roughly against your panties. “This pussy is begging to get filled up.”

“Wha— You’re wrong—“ Your hands are trembling when you grip Oikawa’s shoulders, intending to push him away from you, but then the fingers prodding at your panties find your clit through the fabric and it’s all you can do to stay standing up. “Haahh…wait…”

“Wow, you’re soaking through your panties. I spit in your mouth, and you’re getting off? What kind of dumb girl…”

“No I’m not!” But the truth is slicking onto Oikawa’s long fingers as he rubs the length of your slit. The friction of your damp panties between his index finger and your sweet spot is excruciating. Your toes curl inside your shoes, and you’re only half aware of the way your vice-like grip on Oikawa’s shirt is actually pulling him closer.

“Dumb…stupid little slut…trying to deny it but you want me to fuck you, don’t you? You wanna cum?” His breathing is getting heavier along with yours as his fingers swirl around your sweet spot. “Gonna cum for a man you barely know? Tell me you want it.”

“Ah—I—no, I—“ You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Whether or not you can admit it, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself if he keeps touching you like this…

Except that he doesn’t. He pulls his hand out from under your skirt with you right on the edge, leaving you aching and tense and so frustrated that you want to hit him. “You-You’re stopping?”

“You don’t get to cum. You don’t deserve it.” He studies you for a minute—your flushed cheeks, rumpled clothing, and the unadulterated despair written across your face—and then places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you down. “Get on your knees.”

With him forcing you down, your knees buckle easily and smack against the bathroom floor, sending a spike of pain up through your legs. Your natural aversion to touching the floor of a men’s bathroom is overruled by the knowledge of what he’s asking (not that he’s asking) you to do to him, and you scramble backward until the back of your head raps against the side of the stall. The sharp impact stuns you for a second, and Oikawa wastes no time in twisting his fingers through your hair and dragging your face toward his crotch.

His dick is already out, stiff and throbbing red while he pushes your cheek into it. You try to recoil, but Oikawa isn’t letting you get away. “Open up, (Y/N). I’m going to put that mouth to good use for once.”

It’s hard to shake your head with Oikawa’s fingers in your hair, but you manage, at least enough that he understands your refusal. He clicks his tongue, the gesture almost playful. “You said you’d do anything to make me feel better. Was that a lie? You were fine with me fingering you—don’t tell me you’re going to back out now.”

That’s not fair. You don’t want to do this. He’s being so mean to you.

“Anything…” Oikawa says in sing song. The hand that was tugging your hair lets up a bit and he combs through it gently. It’s the first remotely kind thing he’s done to you.

You wish you had the guts to tell him to leave you alone. You wish you were confident enough that you wouldn’t take his insults to heart. But you’re spineless, and whatever courage you possessed before this has already been crushed. So you open your mouth.

Oikawa’s cock is…salty, already dripping with precum while he nudges it onto your tongue. He slowly leans his hips forward into you, pushing a little deeper into the irresistible warmth of your mouth. His hand, gently cradling the back of your head, doesn’t push you down, but it doesn’t let you pull back either.

Ah, this is wrong…it’s fucked up that he’s getting off on this. Regardless of what he said earlier, he’s well aware that he’s the deviant here. Your misery and shame really shouldn’t be a turn-on for him. But it had been such a bad loss, and he’d been in such a nasty mood, and the feeling of your tongue squirming against the head of his cock is really taking the stress right out of him.

Maybe he deserves this. You’re his new favorite method of stress relief.

“Mm…yeah…yeah, stay still like that and let me use you…that’s all you’re good for.” His voice gets progressively huskier as he fucks your mouth, his cock getting a bit deeper into your throat every time he tilts his hips into you. He’s so thick and heavy between your lips that even if your jaw wasn’t already sore from how he held it earlier, it’d still be aching now.

By the time his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re trying to push his thighs away from you. It’s useless, though—even with just a single hand in your hair, he has no trouble keeping you exactly where he wants you. His cock is just as big as the rest of him, and he’s almost triggering your gag reflex even with just half of it in your mouth.

Oikawa thrusts again and the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you seize up around him and earning a grunt from him. “Fuck…that felt good, do it again.” He holds you down and pushes himself deeper, forcing you to dry gag around the heavy mass filling up your throat.

The way you’re twitching against him must feel good—you can tell by his huffs of breath and the half-coherent backhanded compliments about how how were made to suck cock. His huge hand is rigid in your hair, fingernails scratching thoughtlessly into your scalp. “Yeah…taking me so deep, you really are a whore aren’t you? My personal cheerleader cocksleeve…gonna wait for me after every game and take my cock just like this? You know, maybe I’ll fuck you before I play…I think I’ll hit better if I know you’re in the stands cheering me on with my cum dripping out of your pussy…”

You want to be somewhere else, anywhere where you’re not forced to listen to him tell you how worthless you are while you hold back your gag reflex. Your jaw is cramping, and your pussy is still traitorously wet and unsatisfied. Is what he’s saying true? Are you really that useless? Why is it so wrong that you like—you liked him? Why are you being punished for being his fan?

Oikawa looks down when he feels your hands stop pushing at his thighs. Repressing a growl of annoyance, he pulls your head back off his dick so he can haul your body up and meet your eyes. God, you’re wrecked—hair mussed and tangled, spit dripping down your chin, eyes rimmed with red—and you’re crying. He feels a tug in his abdomen while you sniff and try to wipe your tears away. “You look ugly when you cry.”

The insult brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you furiously rub at your eyes and nose, but you’re only smearing the tears around. She’s not really an ugly crier, Oikawa thinks looking at you. In fact, you look oddly appealing with your nose all red and teardrops hanging off your eyelashes.

“I-I w-wanna leave—I wanna stop,” you whimper out between sobs.

“Oh...oh, did I hurt your feelings?” Oikawa folds your limp body into his arms and you hate yourself for taking comfort in him and melting into his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I-I-I—“

“Shh, shh.” He rubs your back in slow circles, steadying your trembling form. “You can’t be so loud, someone will hear. And besides…I’m not done.”

What?

Before you can understand what he said, Oikawa pushes you back down and palms his still-hard weeping cock. “I was looking forward to cumming in your mouth, you know? Since you’re so good at swallowing. I was going to make you show it to me first. But now—I guess you can’t take that, huh? My personal cheerleader is a little too fragile today! That’s okay though, we can save it for next time.” His voice is excited and his eyes are wide with boyish exuberance while his hand pumps up and down the length of his cock.

He’s jacking off. On you.

You try to move out of the way, but once again he holds you in place. “Stop that, you don’t want to cause…a mess…ugh, fuck!”

It’s all you can do to close your eyes and screw up your face before the breath leaves him and he lurches forward. You feel it rather than see it, just like when he spat in your mouth—a hot sticky liquid, this time soaking onto your skin…through…your shirt.

You open your eyes and there it is, a smear of off-white liquid staining your plain green cheering T-shirt.

He came on your clothes. He came on your clothes. He came on your clothes.

“Oi, Oikawa!” There’s an audible bang as the door of the bathroom is slammed open and someone—no, two people—walk inside. A shiver passes through you and you chance a look up at Oikawa, whose gaze is trained on the closed stall door as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants.

“Oikawa?” another voice calls out. “You in here? The bus is waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m in here,” he says. You shoot a terrified glance at him, bidding him to keep quiet, but he just winks back at you. As if you’re sharing some fun secret and not hiding with tears in your eyes and semen spilling down your chest.

There are two sharp knocks on the stall door, and it’s all you can do to hold back your squeal of shock. “Hurry up and get out, dumbass. What the hell have you been doing this whole time? Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Sorry, sorry—“ He pulls you up one more time, this time by the back of your collar like a kitten, and reaches for the door lock despite your best efforts to shake your head violently and telepathically communicate please please please don’t open it— “but I promise I had a good reason. See for yourself.”

You’re seriously considering kicking him in his bad knee and making a run for it, but as always his instincts outpace yours by miles. When the door swings open, Oikawa pushes you out in front of him and directly into the person standing in front of the stall. Who is it? Tall, tan, spiky dark hair—you’ve never spoken, but you know from your extensive practice observing the Aobajohsai volleyball team that it’s Iwaizumi Hajime, vice captain and Oikawa’s best friend. His arms move up to grab you by reflex, steadying you before you’re forced to crash into him.

“Wha—“ Iwaizumi looks just as startled as you feel. Behind him, Hanamaki—the third-year wing spiker who’s in the same class as you—is wearing a similar expression of surprise. For a moment, everything is perfectly still: Iwaizumi holding you by your upper arms, Oikawa grinning back at you from the stall, Hanamaki watching all three of you with an eyebrow raised—

And then, like a scene from a horror movie playing out in slow motion, two pairs of eyes move from your disheveled face down, inch by inch, until both Iwaizumi and Hanamaki are staring at the cum stain on your shirt.

They recognize what it is immediately. Hanamaki grimaces in disgust and Iwaizumi drops your arms like he’s been burned. “Ugh, that’s fucking nasty. You couldn’t wait til we got back to campus?”

“Nah, my little cheerleader was too impatient. I can’t say no to her.” Your gaze swings back to Oikawa in betrayal, but he looks as effortlessly flippant as ever, no evidence of the lie on his face. He steps out from the stall and wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer against your will.

The awkwardness in the air is so thick you can barely breathe, but you’re not the only one affected. Hanamaki is resolutely avoiding looking at either of you and Iwaizumi looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry or disgusted. “I mean…still…you shouldn’t be causing trouble for the rest of the team.”

“Hear that, (Y/N)?” Oikawa pats your waist without releasing his grip. “Say sorry to Iwa and Makki.”

You want to escape. You want to run. You want to faint, even, because at least if you fainted you wouldn’t have to experience this humiliation.

“S-Sorry. I’m sorry for c-causing trouble.” The apology comes out hoarse from your raw throat, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that you’d had a cock stuffed down it just a few minutes ago. You duck down into a bow, hating Oikawa almost as much as you hate yourself.

Aaaand, you’re crying again. As soon as you feel the tear trickle down your cheek you swipe at it furiously, but with all attention in the room trained on you it’s impossible that they didn’t see it.

“Look, Iwa, you made her cry!” Oikawa easily pushes your hand down and his takes its place, dabbing at the tears spilling down your cheeks.

To Iwaizumi’s credit, he looks even more horrified at the fact that you’re crying than he did at the cum stain. He steps toward you a bit and then thinks better of it and moves back again, hands gesturing aimlessly in the air. “Whoa! Hey, it’s fine! It’s fine, okay? It was probably this loser’s fault more than yours anyway, I know what a dog he is.”

You have no idea. You gulp and try to stifle your tears. Oikawa’s constant contact (his thumb stroking your face, the arm pulling insistently at your waist—something about it is almost possessive) isn’t helping your anxiety.

“Can we get going?” Hanamaki says after a long moment. “They’re waiting for us.”

Iwaizumi scratches his head and looks at you. “Ah…sorry (Y/N), but I think the cheer squad bus already left.”

“She can ride with us, can’t she?” Oikawa says.

You don’t want to ride with them, but what’s your other option? Take the train for hours with a cum stain right in the middle of your shirt? On the other hand, that might be better than spending another second in Oikawa’s presence. “I...I can take the train…”

Then again, you don’t know why you’re bothering to have this internal debate at all. It’s not like he’s going to give you a choice.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re coming with me.” You flinch at the insult and then regret it, hoping the others didn’t notice.

“Ah, I guess that’s fine,” Iwaizumi says. “By the way, do you…want a clean shirt? I have an extra in my bag…”

He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says it, which is fine because you’re pretty sure you’re incapable of doing so either. Still, you open your mouth to say yes, awkwardness be damned. You’d do anything to get out of this filthy shirt—

“She’s fine,” Oikawa interrupts.

Iwaizumi frowns and looks to you for confirmation, but you can feel Oikawa’s oppressive stare pinning you in place and preventing you from disagreeing. You’re so weak. Pathetic. Just like he said.

You nod shakily to Iwaizumi and he sighs. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

The three of them file out of the bathroom and for one hopeful moment you think they’re going to leave you there and you’ll never have to see Oikawa again.

But since when do you have that kind of luck?

“(Y/N)? Come.”

It probably sounds like a request to Hanamaki and Iwaizumi, but you know it’s not. It’s an order.

And you follow.

➠ [Part 2]

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pockyxx · 4 years

Text

“ how the haikyuu captains confess ”

daichi x fem! reader, kuroo x fem! reader, ushijima x fem! reader, bokuto x fem reader and oikawa x fem! reader

genre: fluff.

daichi

people already though the two of you were dating

he always does typical boyfriend things i.e holds bags, compliments, the only thing that was missing was physical intimacy

he’d be on the fine line of romantic and straight forward

he kinda already knew that you knew he liked you

he got the team’s advice on what to do but it was useless bc they’ve never been with a girl RIP

“Y/n, I’m glad I caught up to you!” He seemed a little more nervous than normal but you brushed it off as just nervous for his up coming practice match.

“Hey Daichi-san, what’s up?” You closed your locker, finishing up with your own club activities. The two of you continued to walk while also keeping up the conversation, Daichi holding the door open for you.

Your heart slightly fluttered as you walked so close with them, wondering if today was the day that Daichi was finally going to confess. One of the first years had accidentally let it slip one day when you stopped by his practice.

“Well, actually, there’s been something on my mind. It’s been on my mind for a while, honestly.” He stopped walking, nervously opening his backpack to grab something.

You gave him an innocent look even though it’s been a moment you’ve been waiting for for a long time.

“I like you, y/n. Like a lot.” He extended his hand and offered you your favorite candy bar, something that he always carried around with him. “I like when I get to see your bright smile, and your laugh makes me feel so warm inside. I just like the person I am around you and how you make me want to be a better person all together.”

It had been clear that he hadn’t exactly planned what he was going to say but it was still meaningful nonetheless.

“It took you long enough.” You flashed a cheeky grin, “Hinata told me by accident, I’ve just been waiting for you to finally spill the beans.” You laughed, filling his heart with joy.

“So this means you’ll let me take you on a date?” He wondered, blushing and making a mental note to make the younger boy run extra laps. You nodded rapidly, taking his hands in yours, proceeding with your walk.

kuroo

have you seen how he talks to his team

he would have his confession planned for a week

He’d be rehearsing that shit in the mirror every morning

he’d probably get really freaked out the day of though

when you say you like him back and confess in a similar manner he’s as red as a tomato

he practiced on kenma and get his advice

“Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you-” Kuroo was instantly cut off by his younger friend who was still glued to his game.

“You’re really going to finish off such a sentimental confession with a stupid chemistry pick up line. That’s gross.” He commented as Kuroo was left scratching his head. He’d been planning on confessing to you for a while now but was still stuck on what to say.

“But she loves when I made chemistry jokes.” His face dropped, conflicted with what to do. Was his friend right? Do girls not like that sort of thing?

“Well you better decide quick because her she comes.” You had turned the corner with all their refilled water bottles and his heart began to race up. What would happen if you said you didn’t like him back? It would create such an awkward relationship between you two; which wouldn’t be good between a captain and a team manager.

“Here are your waters.” You passed both volleyball players their drinks as you rested your hands on your hips, “what were you guys talking about?”

Kenma kept a straight face while Kuroo flushed slightly. Pressing a finger to your lips, you thought of a way to lighten the clearly tense mood.

“You’ve defiantly being improving your serves, Kuroo-san. I’ve been keeping ion you!” You covered your mouth, not wanted to let out a laugh at such a cheesy joke. That was Kenma’s cue to walk off, giving Kuroo the thumbs up to proceed-- it was now or never.

“Well, there’s something you should know too, chibi-can.” He swallowed any anxious nerves he had, “You make my heart flutter every moment I see you; you just take me breath away and not just because of you looks. I like how funny you are, and you always seem to put a smile on my face. I know this is very random but I’ve been holding in my feelings for a very long time and I thought I was going to explode not being able to tell you.”

You smiled, bashing your eyelashes, you never knew your captain had feelings for you. Heck, your crush had feelings for you.

“So basically, what I’ve been meaning to ask is; are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you?” He held his breath, wondering if Kenma was going to be right. His heart pounded even faster at the sight of your lips twisting to an even bigger smile (if that was even possible).

ushijima

it could go one of two ways

either he could be super blunt and hit you with the ‘I like you y/n.’

OR it would be over the top and only because he consulted tendou

tendou’s probably watched a handful of romance animes and has ushijima prepares chocolates, flowers, the whole 9 yards

ushi is just nodded and taking notes like...

just confess to her at the summer festival, girls love that, bonus points if you do it under the fire works.

tendou’s words rang through ushijimas head as he walked side by side with you at the summer festival. he’d done everything tendou had instructed him to up until that point. he’s bought you the best taiyaki, he’d let you hold his hand as to not get lost in the crowd and he’d even won you a small stuffed animal that now rested under your arm pit.

“I think the fireworks are about to start.” you hummed as wakatoshi realized he needed to get into the right position.

“then why don’t we go someone more private.” he offered you a rare smile as your cheeks started to burn up with fluster.

it wasn’t like ushijima was a cold heart person but seeing him suggest something so thoughtful, your heart fluttered with the idea that someone greater was about to happen.

nodding, you let ushijima pull you off as the two of you got a better of the sky that was soon to be filled with a display of lights. he’d taken you away from the crowd, up on a small empty lot of gross that was elevated compared to the rest of the festival.

“y/n, I enjoyed tonight.” he cleared his throat, catching your attention. you nodded in agreement,

“hopefully we can go to more festivals today, of course if your not busy with volleyball!” you smiled happily. ushijima was quick to respond.

“I’d like that very much.” he paused, “y/n, i’m often told that i don’t show emotions well or that i’m very blunt.”

you watched him with curious eyes, stating that that wasn’t all ways a bad thing.

“that’s right. this is a time where i think it’s good to be blunt. you see, y/n, i enjoy spending time with you and that i like you, very much.”

bokuto

it accidentally slipped out

he always gets a little shy when he think about it so he simply doesn’t

you’ll be something fairly mundane and he’ll just pause and go

“you do that so well, that’s why I think I’m in love with you.”

you’d get flustered because it was so out of the blue

he’d fill akaashi in the next day and akaashi would make him re-do the confession

“You’re so good at cleaning the white board, y/n, but I guess everything you do is good because that’s why I like you.” You and Bokuto had class room chores together after school and he was watching you, in a hazy spell, resting his hand on his head.

You blushed, not knowing if Bokuto was actually being serious or if he was just being overly kind. You just pretended like you didn’t hear him, continuing with what you were doing. If you can confessed your feelings back and he wasn’t serious, you would’ve died of embarrassment.

“Bokuto-san are you going to help or not?” You turned around seeing Bokuto covering his face as he rested his head on the desk. “Uh, Bokuto-san are you alright?”

He looked up at you only for you to see what you recognized as his emo mode. You frowned your eyebrows as he jumped up, bursting out with emotion.

“No! I just confessed to the girl that I like and, and, and I wasn’t ready!” He grabbed his bag and ran for the door, “please forgive me for not doing my share of the work, y/n.”

You were left speechless, watching as the gray haired boy ran away. You laughed realizing what he meant and put you into such a happy mood you didn’t even care that you had to finish all the chores.

The next morning, you were greeted at the gates of Fukuordani by Bokuto who held a box of you favorite snack and a small teddy bear. Shyly extending the gifts out to you.

“I bet you know what I’m going to say, so just, uh, please take these.” It had been what Akaashi had instructed and you took them with pleasure.

“These will make up for all my hard work yesterday keeping out classroom spic-and-span.” You giggle, Bokuto looked at you with pouty eyes as you continued, “and if you didn’t run out so quickly you would’ve know what I like you too.”

His eyes gleamed as you covered your slightly blushing face with your hand. Bokuto engulfed you in a hug and the two of you becoming boyfriend and girlfriend.

oikawa

he’s been confessed to so much that confessions make him nauseous tbh

he’d make it very personal and romantic, though

if not romantic he’d want it to be just the two of you

he knew if he told any of the third years about if his plans, they’d ruin the moment; showing up to film the whole experience (mattsun and makki)

he would secretly be the most nervous out of all of them

You were helping Iwaizumi and taking over his cleaning shift with Oikawa. Oikawa was kinda glad the ace had a dentist appointment, so he could finally get you alone with out his team mates or fan girls there to ruin the moment.

“Say, y/n-chan, I’m pretty lucky to have such a pretty girl helping me clean up.” His eyes were on the ball he was rubbing the marks off of, not really seeing your expression, defended by the sound of his heart thumping rapidly.

You frowned, liking Oikawa was no easy task because everyone seemed to like him. Sure, he complimented you now, but he always compliments girls. It hurt your heart not knowing how sincere he was.

“Don’t worry about it Oikawa-san, I’m always happy to help.” You sighed, finishing pumping a deflated volleyball. The Oikawa you had grown to love wasn’t the pretty, flashy volleyball player but the determined captain who always brought out the best in his teammates. It was the hard working, smart and passionate Toru that made your heart do flips.

“Y/n...” His voiced trailed off, you noticed there wasn’t a cute little ‘chan’ following it. You turned to face him, not realizing your vision had gone blurry from tears pooling in them.

“Are you alright?” Out of concern he placed his hands in your shoulders and that seemed to snapped you out of the spell you’d fallen under.

Rubbing your eyes, you nodded, looking down at your feet to avoid Oikawa’s gaze. You wished he’d let go of you, so you heart could just go back to its normal pace.

“Y/n did I say something to upset you—Im sorry.” He seemed to be holding his breath until he saw you shake your heard, reassuring him he’d done nothing wrong. Toru sighed.

“I hate seeing you upset, do you know that?” Surpised, you looked up at him, almost beckoning him to eleborate. Oikawas mind was racing— he wasn’t planning on confessing right there and then but he decided to sieze the moment.

“Out of all the girls I talk to, you’re the only one that makes me feel like this...” With your mouth gapping he took your hand and directed it to his chest where you could feel his rapid heartbeat.

“Oikawa-san...” You trailed off, at a loss of words. Between the hand touching his toned chest and the honey-like words coming out of his mouth, it sent you into over drive.

“Everything about you makes me crazy and-and well y/n... i like you!”

Nodding off, your brain couldn’t fully comprehend what your body was doing. leaning forward, reaching up to his lips you. kiss. him.

“Woah.” Oikawa breathed out, shocked at how you reciprocated his feeling until he was brought back to his usual behaviour, “so... you wanna go out with me?”

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animatedarchives · 4 years

Text

CHEMISTRY

— 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

author’s note: hi guys! this is based off of a conversation i had with @velvetfireworks about dozing off in class hehe ^^ it’s pretty cringey and cheesy but i thought it was cute :> enjoy!~

genre: fluff

warning: none, just school being sucky and some nerdy chemistry puns bc i love science

word count: 1.7k words

“Each carbon atom is sp3 hybridised and covalently bonded to four other carbon atoms to form a tetrahedral structure, making it insoluble in water and...”

I’m so tired.

The lecturer droned on and on in his awfully monotonous voice, his words going right over your head. You rubbed your face exasperatedly and sat up straight in your chair, trying your best to stay awake.

Maybe you should have gotten more rest last night. But how could you? Especially given all the assignments that were due this week. You groaned. Either way, you just wanted this class to be over.

Your eyes flicked to the clock mounted on the wall at the front of the hall, watching painfully as it ticked at an agonisingly slow pace.

Just… half an hour more…

You shook your head to will the sleepiness away, tightening the grip on your pen as you attempted to listen to the lecture once more. But the exhaustion from your allnighter last night was too much, and it fizzled out any determination you had to stay awake. Your body seemed to act against the pleas of your mind, and your eyelids slowly began to droop.

No! Need to... listen… to...

Your eyes eventually drifted shut and you felt instant relief wash over you. As much as you wanted to stay awake, you had no more energy to pry your eyelids apart.

Okay… Maybe just… five minutes…

You leaned back in your chair and gave in to your exhaustion, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep.

A few minutes passed and finally, you began to stir, your brain slowly starting back up again after your short nap.

Mmm, my pillow… So soft… Maybe I can sleep for a while longer— Wait.

Your eyes snapped open.

I don’t have a pillow.

You rubbed your face sleepily and assessed your situation, your eyes widening in horror as you realised you had ended up falling asleep on the shoulder of the person next to you.

“Oh my- I am so sorry!” you jerked away from them, the top of your head colliding with their chin.

“Ow-”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY, I’M SO SORRY!” you apologised profusely.

In your frenzy, you knocked your pencil case off your table, sending your stationery flying. You cursed under your breath and fumbled around, trying to get your things — and yourself — together. The stranger bent down and helped to pick up some of your pens, and although you were grateful, it deepened the guilt you felt in the pit of your stomach for causing them so much inconvenience.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated again, turning to face him.

He chuckled. “For a smart girl, you sure have some limited vocabulary,” he said, approaching you and handing you back your pens. You scoffed at the backhanded compliment but kept your smile nonetheless.

“Thank you… uh…” you trailed off, not knowing how to address him.

“The name’s Kuroo Tetsuro.”

“Mine is L/N Y/N!” you smiled politely. “Thank you, Kuroo.”

You were now very much awake and able to take in his appearance, an opportunity you missed during the earlier commotion. He wasn’t dressed in anything too outlandish; it was rather simple honestly — a white tee, a black jacket, some black joggers with a red stripe going down the side, and matching red shoes to accentuate the pop of colour. His jet black hair was spiked up as well, but strangely, not all of it. For some reason, he allowed his bangs to fall across the right side of his face instead of spiking it up like the rest. It was unusual, but strangely... rather charming.

“It’s not very polite to stare, you know.”

You blushed at his comment and whipped your head to look at anything else but him.

“I- I wasn’t staring!” you denied, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Sure you weren’t,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. Who was this guy? You’d barely even met him, yet you felt so comfortable around him. It was like you were naturally drawn to him. Attracted, even. You shook your head and cleared your throat, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.

“So uh, how much did I miss?” you asked.

“We just finished up the rest of this chapter on chemical bonding,” he replied. You groaned, dreading how much you’d have to study tonight in order to catch up on what you missed during the lecture. There was no way this could get worse.

And of course, just as you thought that, a dark splotch on Kuroo’s jacket caught your eye and you mentally slapped yourself as your eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is…” you said as you buried your face in your hands.

Confused, Kuroo followed your line of sight until it landed on a wet spot on his jacket, just below the curve of his shoulder — the very one you were sleeping on. He made a face and you had never felt more embarrassed in your entire life.

“Oh my gosh, please let me make it up to you! I’ll buy you lunch!” you sputtered out. You had to repay him somehow, not just because you’d used him as a pillow during Chemistry class but because there was now a huge spot of your drool on his clothes to show for it.

He chuckled at your flusteredness. “Lunch sounds great.”

He suggested going to his favourite food place, claiming it had the best grilled salted mackerel pike in the world. You agreed and followed him — it was only fair he chose where to eat after everything you’d put him through. As you neared the stall, you caught a whiff of the delicious grilled fish, causing your mouth to water and you licked your lips excitedly. The waitress greeted you at the entrance and motioned you to follow her inside as she led you to your seats.

“A table for two for the lovely couple,” she gestured towards the table. “Enjoy your date!” she smiled.

Your cheeks started to heat up and you shook your head vigorously at the misunderstanding. “N-no! This isn’t-” you tried to correct her but your protests fell on deaf ears as she was already walking away.

“Wow, do you not want to go on a date? You wound me,” he placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“NO NO NO IT’S JUST-”

“Oh, so you do want to go on a date with me?”

“WHA- NO- I MEAN-”

“I’m teasing, kid,” he laughed and ruffled your hair. “Sit down.”

You let out a sigh as you both took your seats. You were a complete mess today. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed to find it pretty amusing.

You peered over your menu to look at the boy sitting across you. It was hard to believe you’d only met a while ago considering you were now having lunch at his favourite food place, talking like you were old friends. And you couldn’t help but feel something warm starting to bubble within your chest.

“Staring again?” he asked without even needing to look at you. You quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“NO!” you retorted and lifted the menu up to cover your red face.

The two of you placed your orders and the rest of lunch went without a hitch. You were surprised with how easily conversation came with Kuroo and how naturally you guys got along together.

“So, grilled salted mackerel pike huh?” you asked.

“Yeah, this place is famous for it. It’s my favourite food,” he replied in between mouthfuls. “Docosahexaenoic acid is good for the brain, you know.”

“Wow, didn’t know you were such a nerd.”

“Better than someone who sleeps in class and drools on people.”

“HEY!”

Everything was just so easy with him, and your mind kept drifting back to the waitress’s words. Was this really a date? And more importantly, did you want it to be a date? You’d only just gotten to know him a few hours ago but the chemistry between you was undeniable. The warm feeling in your chest returned and honestly, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hold on to it a little longer. But lunch was coming to an end and you knew you’d have to let go.

“That was a great meal,” Kuroo said, satisfaction written all over his face. Thanks for the ‘date’ kid,” Kuroo chuckled at the term the waitress used. Your heart skipped a beat and you willed yourself not to blush again or give anything away.

“You’re welcome, old man,” you smiled innocently at the term you used. He’d kept calling you ‘kid’ so it was only fair that you returned the favour. You’d never admit it but you secretly liked it that he gave you a nickname. He smiled at you and shook his head at your silly antics.

Both of you stood outside the shop, not really knowing what else to say. You knew it was time to part ways since you’d already given him what you owed, but neither of you wanted to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess I’d better get back home… I’ve got to catch up on what I missed out during the lecture anyway,” you laughed nervously, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, I guess this was a good bonding session, huh,” he grinned lopsidedly, but you could tell it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Even so, you laughed at his dorkiness. You were going to miss it.

“Well, I’ll get going then,” you said, turning to leave. “Oh and uh, sorry about your jacket,” you smiled sheepishly.

Kuroo perked up in sudden realisation. “Oh wait! Speaking of…” he closed the distance between you, rummaging through his bag and fishing out the black jacket he’d previously taken off. “Here,” he said, shoving it into your arms.

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? A keepsake?” you snickered.

“Pfft, you wish,” he smirked. “It has your saliva on it. You wash it,” he said.

You cringed at the truth in his words and folded it over your arms. “Alright, I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

He grinned devilishly with a mischievous glint in his eye, and suddenly you understood his true intentions. You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

“Good. Now I’ve got an excuse to see you again tomorrow.”

Damn this clever nerd.

He’s good.

407 notes · View notes

theanimesideblog · 4 years

Note

Hi can I get a Todoroki x reader scenario where the reader is a daughter of a very famous villain but her mom is was a hero so she decided to be a hero too but everyone is afraid of her she starts to get close with Todoroki and during the sports festival after her match endeavor talks with the reader and disapproves her friendship with Todoroki and during their argument endeavor accidentally hits her with his quirk and ends up giving her a scar and shoto shows up sorry if it’s long 😅

Todoroki x Fem!Reader: You’re Just Like Him

TW: burning, scars, violence, fighting, endeavor is a bully, cursing

A/N: i lowkey love writing for sports festival!todoroki bc that’s when he really grew as a character!! it’s not too long at all, sweetie :) hope you like it!!!

You walked back to the waiting rooms for the contestants. You wanted to congratulate Todoroki on his win, but also ensure that he was okay after that nasty fight with Midoriya.

Todoroki was your closest friend at UA. The other students had been wary around you. It wasn’t your fault; after all, it’s not like you asked for your dad to be a villain. The funny thing about Todoroki was that he was still awkward around you. Since he was the only one who didn’t treat you differently because of your father, you didn’t really give him a choice if he wanted to be your friend. You hung around him 24/7 and talked to him even when he wouldn’t reciprocate. Somehow, your persistence won him over and he called you his friend.

[[MORE]]

You two bonded over your fathers. Your dad... well, he wasn’t the greatest. Todoroki could relate. All it took was one joke about bad dads to knock Todoroki’s wall down. He was the only one who laughed at the joke. You smiled at the memory. It was a pretty funny joke.

Your turned the corner and quite literally bumped into someone. You looked up, your eyes wide when you realized you bumped into Endeavor.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You said. He just looked at you with a snarl. You tried to side step him and go on your way, but he held his arm out to stop you. You, confused, looked up at the angry man.

“Shouldn’t you be with your class?” He asked.

“I’m allowed to be back here. I don’t understand.” You said. “Please let me go.” He grabbed your arm.

“You’re going to see Shoto, aren’t you?” Endeavor asked. You nodded. “I don’t want you to ever go near my son again. Is that understood?”

“Why? I haven’t done anything.” You said, trying to pull your arm away. It was useless in Endeavor’s grasp. Fear started creeping up your spine.

“Your father was a villain. I don’t approve of my son hanging out with villains.” He said. Your face went blank. How many times had people accused you of being evil? You thought going to a hero school would make them stop, but you quickly learned that wasn’t the case.

“Just because he’s my father doesn’t mean I am his daughter.” You said. “Now, please let me go.” You wished Aizawa would come down the hall. He would stop Endeavor. Despite the teacher’s track record, he saw the good in you most didn’t. He wouldn’t allow this.

“You have his quirk. No matter what you do, you will never be able to get rid of him.” Endeavor said. True. You would never be able to separate yourself from the blood that ran through your veins, but that didn’t mean you had to yield to its ways.

“You don’t get to make decisions for Todoroki. He can do whatever he wants.” You said. “I know the hero community stays silent about what you do. I don’t think you have any room to talk about bad fathers.” You could tell Endeavor was getting angry. His flames started to feel hot, despite not touching your skin. You were flirting with death, but you were too upset to care.

“You have no right to comment on things you know nothing about.” Endeavor said.

“Neither do you! You know nothing about me, yet you claim I’m just like my father. If you really knew me, you would know that’s not true. Now, let me go.” You said. Your fear was gone. How dare someone like Endeavor comment on your family life?

“You’re extremely disrespectful for a young woman. You’re pathetic-“

“Me? Pathetic!! At least I have family that actually loves me-“ Endeavor’s flames shot up, causing your arm in his grasp to catch on fire. You screamed out in pain, which finally made Endeavor let go.

“(Y/N)!” Shoto called out to you. You hadn’t even noticed he was in the hall. You were extremely grateful that he was here now. He helped you put out the flames on your arms. Tears ran down your face as you clung to your friend with your good arm. “We have to get you to Recovery Girl.”

“Shoto-“

“Get lost.” Todoroki snarled, before leading you to Recovery Girl.

~*~

Recovery Girl’s kiss made you pass out. After hours, you finally awoke to see Shoto sitting next to you. He blinked in surprise.

“(Y/N)! How are you feeling?” He asked. You looked down at your arm and winced at the sight. It was ugly to say the least.

“Not in as much pain as I was.” You said. Shoto looked at your arm and then looked away.

“Recovery Girl said that burn would leave you with a scar. I’m so sorry for my father’s actions.” Shoto said, his fists clenched. You reached out with your good arm and placed a hand on his.

“‘s not your fault your dad is a dick.” You said. Normally, calling his dad a dick would made him smile. Not now though. You frowned.

“It’s really not your fault. Don’t feel bad. Look! We’re even scar buddies now.” You said. Shoto looked at you.

“How can you be optimistic?” He asked. You smiled.

“Being negative doesn’t help anyone. Also, I said some pretty nasty things to Endeavor’s face before he burned me, so I’m feeling pretty good about it.” You said. You could tell it didn’t help Shoto.

“Todoroki, you’re my best friend. I don’t want you to be upset.” You said.

“You’re the one in pain and you’re comforting me. Some hero I am.” He scoffed. “I couldn’t even protect you from my own dad.”

“Sometimes, even heroes need to cry. I mean, I get why you’re upset. Your dad is hurting the people you care about and you can’t do anything about that. I used to feel the same way about my dad. It sucks, but we’re not heroes yet. We’re still teenagers for Pete’s sake. Do me a favor and just breathe. It’ll be okay. Oh, and smile for me. I think I could really go for your award winning smile.” You said. Shoto looked away and took a deep breath. He looked at you and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you.” He said. Your mom came into the room.

“Oh, my little baby. How are you feeling??? I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I gave Endeavor an earful before trying to find out how to get him in trouble. That bastard-“

“Mom-“

“No, she’s right.” Shoto said, smiling brighter at your gasping mouth.

268 notes · View notes

1tsnoya · 4 years

Note

NOYA-SENPAI - it me- your internet thirsty hours bestie 💜 Can we get headcanons on the following babies introducing their s/o to the team for the first time? -> NOYA (obvs), BOIkawa, KEN-fucking-MA, kita PLEASE MARRY ME shinsuke and the sweet sweet SWEET bokuto? PLEASE AND THANK YOU I LOVE YOU 💜💜💜

a/n: hi eden ILY<3 this is to apologize for showing you bald kuroo-

✧･ﾟgetting introduced as their s/o ✧･ﾟ headcanons

pairings: nishinoya x reader, oikawa x reader, kenma x reader, kita x reader, bokuto x reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

noya

→ as soon as you two started dating, he wanted to tell the vbc

→ and he did hhshsjs

→ he was always talking about you at practice, the team knew so much about you

→ noya: “guys guess what!”

→ tsukishima: “let me guess, it has to do with (y/n)?”

→ noya: “no...well actually-”

→ so one day hinata was just like “let’s meet them!”

→ noya was SO up for it, he called you right after practice to make sure that it was okay

→ you couldn’t say no, you could just hear the excitement in his voice

→ so the next day at the end of school, he bolted to meet you after your last class

→ “hi baby!” he grabbed your hand “let’s go!”

→ next thing you know, your fingers are braided together and you’re running down the hallway to go to the gym-

→ you are so out of breath by the time you get there but he’s still bursting with excitement

→ he swung the gym doors open and just shouted - “everyone!! this is (y/n) !!”

→ he was like a 5 year old showing off a toy at show and tell-

→ since he talked about you so much, the team just instantly clicked with you

→ ugh they’re just so welcoming and friendly

→ since you connected with them so quickly, they added you to the vbc groupchat and invited you to come to their next practice

→ the team just adores you probably more than they like noya HAHA

→ tanaka is 100% your and noya’s wingman

oikawa

→ okay before you, this boy would just fly through relationships

→ we know this for sure bc his nephew made fun of him 😔 heart been broke so many times-

→ anyways, so when you started dating he wanted to keep it on the downlow

→ he didn’t wanna jinx it! he just wants to see your relationship grow and last for a long time

→ even though deep down he wanted everyone to know that you were dating

→ yeah even though it was supposed to be lowkey, he put a picture of you as his lockscreen

→ being in a relationship with flattykawa, i feel like he’d definitely screenshot any snaps you send him or just in general has a lot of pictures of you on his phone

→ secret relationship my ASS- what was he expecting???

→ his mindset was “who’s gonna go through the captain’s phone?? nobody caus-”

→ WRONG. IWAIZUMI CAN AND DID THAT EXACTLY

→ it wasn’t intentional, he just wanted to check the time but then saw a new face on oikawa’s phone..

→ so he took the phone, walked up to oikawa, and just SHOWED HIM THE LOCKSCREEN

→ oikawa was just — “HSBEJGSJK GIVE ME MY PHONE WHAT AREYOU”

→ then wow no surprise here. the whole team is 👀

→ iwaizumi teases him about this-

→ and then the whole team caught on

→ so an embarrassed oikawa called you and was like “can i introduce you to the team?”

→ he was lowkey peer pressured but we’re not gonna talk about that-

→ ofc you said yes. he was literally the captain of the team how could you not-

→ and when you met them, THE WHOLE TEAM JUST FLAMED YOUR BOYFRIEND

→ at first they were all welcoming and friendly. but after a few minutes passed, they were just—sigh rip oikawa

→ he’s was blushing like crazy at his teammates telling all of these embarrassing stories of him and you were just laughing hsksh

→ anywho the team loves u and when you occasionally show up to practice, it’s always an adventure

→ iwa is ur new bestie and kyoutani/mad dog tells you that if oikawa ever does something mean to you, he’ll beat the shit out of him

kenma

→ i feel like kenma wouldn’t purposely hide your relationship, he’s just not the type to be so loud about it yk?

→ one day you texted him when he was at practice, and the nekoma vbc saw your contact name

→ “keNMA?? who’s (y/n) with a RED HEART??”

→ kenma: “my? s/o?”

→ and kuroo freaked out on him for not telling him

→ kenma: “it’s not like i was hiding it?”

→ kuroo: “BROYOU DIDNTTELL USWGAT DOYOUMEA”

→ that whole practice. everyone was just breathing down kenma’s neck

→ “what are they like???” “kenma you sly dog when’d this happen??” “when can we meet them?” “are u gonna get maaaarrrieeeed??”

→ cue annoyed and kind of blushing kenma

→ when he told you about the team finding out, he surprisingly had asked you if you wanted to meet them

→ “they’re really dumb but they’ll love you”

→ so next practice, he met up with you and walked u to the gym

→ and when you got there.. there was just SCREAMING

→ kenma: “guys back off you’re gonna scare them”

→ kuroo is basically like.. a mom. throw all that cool guy shit out of the window

→ he’s like shaking ur hand at 85 mph “kenma has told us so much about you”

→ lev: “but we just found out yester-?”

→ yaku: “just let him have his moment”

→ you become the team mom! how could u not? these boys love you too much

→ “kenma why didn’t you tell us about them earlier??!!”

→ the team is super hype whenever you show up, and when you don’t they’re all pouty — “kenma where’s (y/n) ?🥺”

→ bonus: you, kenma, lev, kuroo, and yaku all play minecraft together. boom ultimate friend group.

kita

→ i feel like kita would hide your relationship for a few months

→ he’s a bit on the more reserved side? i’m not sure how to explain it but he would want to wait to make sure your relationship is going well enough to introduce you to his friends, family, etc.

→ and since he’s the captain of the volleyball team, he definitely wanted to let some time pass before introducing you

→ this boy literally cried when he realized that he was captain. he loves them but on the downlow hhdjsh

→ a few months in, kita was at practice and atsumu was just...

→ “kita?? come on now, you’re still single?”

→ HE DIDNT SAY ANYTHING LMFAO

→ “oh kitaaaa i know you hear me!”

→ kita: “hop off my dick pls❤️”

→ “nO listen i can help you out her-”

→ he thought about it for a quick second and thought that your relationship was in a good place so just flat out said “i’m seeing someone already”

→ atsumu: surprised pikachu face “wait fr FR??”

→ he was just in shock tbh LOL

→ kita’s confidence 📈📈

→ then the whole team kinda just gathered around

→ kita: “yeah. i’ve been seeing them for a few months”

→ ofc the team was happy for him. maybe a few teases here and there but yuh<3

→ atsumu was still >:O what

→ a few days passed and he had asked you if you wanted to meet the team

→ you agreed and were super pumped. he loved his team like i said earlier though, on the DOWNLOW

→ when you met them, they were very polite and respectful

→ it felt a little weird tbh SHSJJS

→ but nope here comes atsumu “have you two really been dating for so long?”

→ kita: “yes..??”

→ “oh. well, hi i’m atsumu! :) how is kita? like you know-?”

→ he teases you two about dating but is rooting for it

→ the first time meeting everyone was a little awkward but then everyone warmed up to you

→ like they became used to you coming to practice and would occasionally ask kita “how’s (y/n)?”

→ basically, you help kita with his captain duties and the team really appreciates you <3

bokuto

→ being captain, the team is like his family

→ so it’s barely a few days into your relationship and he’s like “you should come to one of our practices!!”

→ and he’s bouncing up and down as he mentions it

→ “i’ll show you all of my cool moves-OH you can see how we do this thing ca-”

→ yeahhh you couldn’t say no

→ the team didn’t even know he was dating someone, he wanted to surprise everyone

→ so when you randomly showed up to practice with your bf, they were just “??? bokuto who is this ???”

→ there were stars in his eyes and he had this huge smile, “MY S/O! :DD”

→ the team is very welcoming. they’re just caught off guard because they’re lowkey thinking “how did bokuto manage to hop into a relationship he’s basically a baby-”

→ they’re a little quiet at first but then warm up to you. then it’s just wild

→ well bokuto gets wild..

→ bokuto: “HEY HEY- (Y/N) DID YOU SEE THAT?”

→ he 100% goes tryhard for you

→ the team notices this.. THEY TEASE HIM

→ they wouldn’t stop so he went into emo mode for a few minutes

→ you: “is he?? okay??”

→ akaashi: “oh yeah, he gets like this. bokuto weakness #7-”

→ akaashi lowkey becomes your wingman even though he denies it

→ he teaches you whatever ‘weaknesses’ bokuto has that you might need to know

→ bokuto also talks to akaashi about you a lot after you meet so you become besties at practices

→ if he starts acting like a baby while playing a match, you know how to calm him down or cheer him up

→ and then he plays 10x better

→ but yeah the team really likes you because you know how to control bokuto hsjsjhs

→ when bokuto adds you to the vbc groupchat, that’s when you become good friends with the team

→ like it’ll occasionally blow up at midnight when you send a tiktok lol

1K notes · View notes

kuiinncedes · 3 years

Text

relight that spark

jatp au - chapter 1 - part 2/15? - 9,385 words

the prologue/part 1 (tumblr link) if you missed it!! (ao3 link) :D

so obviously this is pretty slowly updating already and it probably willll get worse 🤪 i might post the next part in like a week tho, it's not a full "episode" chapter and i already have it fully written and i'm pretty happy with it 😗✌️

this chapter is pretty long and i apologize for that bc i know i get annoyed when i have to stop in the middle of a long chapter and then my phone like loses my spot or whatever lakdshgjfs but idk how else to do it so .. just have my apology lol sorryyy <3 the next "episode" chapter is looking to be longer tho sdlkhglsj

LASTLY BUT NOT LEASTLY A HUGE MASSIVE FUCKING THANK YOU TO MEG @neversatisfiedwithlife FOR BETA READING THIS FOR MEEEE AND BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND WONDERFUL LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SM 💞💖💓💗💕

chapter title and lyrics in this part from "wake up" from the julie and the phantoms soundtrack (whichhh if you haven't heard it... you should listen to it after reading maybe 👀)

plot and a lot of the dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this chapter: grief, mentioned character death (regarding kurt's mom)

read below the cut or here on ao3!! <3

2020

There’s a deep-seated weight of dread in Kurt’s stomach that he’s unable to ignore for the entire morning.

His last chance at the music program -- he needs to play again today, for the first time in over a year, or he’s done.

It’s all he can think about all day. He makes it through his first few classes, somehow, walking through the halls almost mindlessly, thoughts far away and only worrying about what he’s going to do, barely paying attention to who he’s almost running into, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

It almost feels like last year again, when school started and everyone knew and everyone was staring at him in the hallways, even though he knows that they’re not right now and he knows most of these people couldn’t care less about him not being able to play at this point, but in his head it feels like they all know, like they’re all waiting, waiting and watching for him to play again and sing again.

He has been, too, for over a year.

He stops at his locker to wait for Mercedes before going to class.

“We’re gonna get tattoos together,” comes her familiar voice out of nowhere.

Involuntarily, Kurt smiles a little, turning to Mercedes. “Umm…?”

She shrugs and smiles back at him. “You know, when we’re adults and out in New York together or something. Just -- you know, at some point.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, silently saying, where the hell did this come from. Mercedes raises both of hers as if to say, answer the question. “Just curious,” she adds out loud. “Could start planning them now.”

He chuckles. “Of course. I’ll get all the matching tattoos with you.”

Grins and silent agreement pass between them and they both turn toward the lockers, a welcome break in the slowest part of the day, the voices and noises of other students filling the air.

“I know you don’t want me to ask, but…” Mercedes starts slowly after a moment, and Kurt nods his head in acknowledgement; he knows what she’s going to say. “Do you know what you’re going to do today?”

He puts some books in his backpack, mainly for something to do. “I’ll know in the moment,” he says, somewhat truthfully. He could just say what he thinks will happen, which is nothing. But Mercedes can see right through him anyway, so might as well stay somewhat positive until it happens. Or rather, doesn’t happen.

Mercedes sighs a little. “Mrs. Harrison said today is your last chance,” she tries, leaning on her side against the lockers.

“I know, I was there,” Kurt says lightly, letting his eyes scan the contents of his locker a tenth time. Mercedes reaches over and squeezes his hand lightly. Her eyes tell him that she’ll stop talking about it for now, and he squeezes back gratefully.

The conversation with Mercedes has really helped, though; it always does. If he’s going to spectacularly embarrass himself in front of his music class, and probably for the last time, at least he’ll have Mercedes there.

She sees it in his smile, and she sends it back. You always will, is her silent whisper.

A sharp, cheery voice pierces the air and makes them both turn their heads, and the uplifted mood from the conversation with Mercedes disappears when Kurt sees none other than Quinn Fabray, in her Cheerios! uniform, complete with a tight ponytail and perfect smile as she hands out what appears to be flyers to passing students, who are immediately won over by her status, closeness, sweetness. Finn Hudson lingers behind her with his guitar case and his own stack of flyers that he’s not handing out nearly as enthusiastically.

“Spirit rally Friday!” Quinn’s saying as she all but shoves another flyer into the face of a nervous freshman who takes it and scurries away, doing a double-take once they pass her. “Come see the Cheerios! do their new routine, and my group, the Unholy Trinity, perform our brand new original song!”

“What’s she handing out?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes. A corner of his lip quirks up despite the general unpleasantness of seeing Quinn.

“Desperation?” she answers with a small smirk. When Kurt turns back, Quinn is in front of him. He holds back a grimace at her fake smile and cheeriness.

“Hey, guys!” she chirps, as if they’re just any two other students at this school. “Here you go, my group’s performing at the spirit assembly on Friday!”

Kurt flinches back a little as a flyer appears much too close to his face and he takes it instinctively, holding it lightly in his fingertips. It truly looks like something Quinn designed -- perfectly professional, impressive, eye-catching -- and he can’t say it looks bad, as much as he might want to. He eyes Quinn over the top of the flyer.

“I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” Quinn continues, that smile still on her face, and there are the claws, Kurt thinks as he resists the urge to rip up the flyer right in front of her.

“Oh, my gosh, Quinn, thank you!” Mercedes says in an exaggeratedly sweet voice, clearly -- or at least clearly to Kurt, and likely Quinn as well -- imitating the specific tone of voice that Quinn takes, and Kurt stifles a laugh.

“Oh my gosh, Cedes, don’t bother coming!” Quinn says with a wide smile, turning away with a whip of her ponytail to continue pushing her flyers.

Kurt looks back at Mercedes, mumbling, “She did not just call you Cedes,” while Mercedes crumples up the flyer in her hands.

“Well, she did,” Mercedes says. Kurt can see the anger behind her eyes and he raises a concerned eyebrow. “I’m fine. She just… you know.” She dismisses his silent question.

“Yeah.” He loops his arm through Mercedes’ and they head down the hallway, almost running into Finn not three steps from Kurt’s locker.

“Oh, hey, sorry guys!” he says with a sheepish but genuine smile that contains all the warmth missing from Quinn’s. “Did you -- I guess Quinn already got -- ”

“Yep, she got to us,” Cedes says quickly, steering Kurt around Finn. “Thanks, Finn, bye!”

“Please tell me you are over him,” Mercedes says when they’re in a quieter area at the end of the row of lockers. Kurt realizes he’s staring and quickly looks away.

“Yeah, I am.” Mercedes looks at him skeptically and he insists, “I am, promise! You just… don’t find a nice jock like him around here that much.”

She nods, satisfied, and raises her eyebrows meaningfully. “You know they’re going to get married and have a bunch of demon babies.”

Kurt’s jaw drops open slightly and he laughs. “You can’t say Finn isn’t a sweetheart.”

“Only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby,” Mercedes says matter-of-factly.

“What… it’s a dominant gene?”

“Of course.” Mercedes turns back toward Quinn and raises her voice. “Demon!”

The two of them push against the wall, hiding behind the end of the lockers, when Quinn snaps her gaze back. Kurt can’t hold his laughs in this time, and he feels a little bad about it, but… considering what Quinn’s done to them, he can let himself and Cedes get away with it.

“There’s that smile,” Mercedes says gently as they gather themselves. “Now let’s go prove everybody wrong.” She pulls him toward the music room and slowly but surely, the sickening feeling in his stomach returns. He sits down next to Mercedes and just breathes. She squeezes his hand again.

Mrs. Harrison starts class soon after they arrive, getting into the last of the progress performances which are both a chance for the students to show off to their classmates, and also a checkpoint for participation in the music program, which is the part Kurt’s concerned about.

He barely hears as Finn finishes his drum solo and everyone claps and then Mrs. Harrison is calling his name and he’s standing and walking to the piano and oh god.

“Take your time,” Mrs. Harrison says gently.

That’s all he’s been doing for almost a year, just taking his time, but nothing has come of it. He sits down slowly, opening his music in front of him but it’s like his eyes don’t see the notes and just gloss over the page. He looks down at the keys, sets his fingers in place reluctantly.

It’s been so long that the keys almost feel foreign under his fingers when they once were the most familiar thing in the world. It’s been so long that he barely remembers how the song should go and why did he think he could just do this, it doesn’t matter how good at sightreading he’s always been. It’s been so long of him locking the memories in a chained and padlocked safe in the back of his mind and he’s terrified of playing again being what opens it because playing and singing and music has always always meant Mom, and she’s gone which he still sometimes forgets and it always hurts like hell to remember again, so letting himself remember so much more will only make reality that much worse. It’s been so long and what if he’s forgotten, what if he opens himself to the memories just to find that they don’t exist anymore?

It’s been so long; it’s been over a year, but doesn’t that mean he should be fine by now?

He knows avoiding the memories hasn’t been the best idea, but right now he can’t think of anything he could have done differently, can’t linger and regret his choices because he feels so vulnerable and exposed finally sitting at the piano in front of his whole class for the first time in a year, and the choice is right there and maybe he could do it but not in front of everyone his brain screams, and he can almost feel Quinn’s sharp, judging, so far from friendly gaze fixed on him and that is what breaks it, that is something he definitely can’t take and he pulls his hands back with a short inhale and the whirlwind in his mind stops and he can mostly breathe again.

It’s been so long.

Heart still pounding, he gets up and apologizes to Mrs. Harrison because she really has tried to help him and he appreciates it but he still can’t, and Quinn makes some comment and Mercedes fires something back but he doesn’t hear any of it, he just has to leave.

He knows Mercedes follows him out and she calls out his name when he’s halfway down the stairs. He’s started crying at some point and he doesn’t know when. All of it is just such a mess and so present in his mind; he was so close to music again, to Mom, but he’s not ready. He’s scared.

“Kurt,” Cedes calls again, quieter, her voice soft and choked, pleading. “Come on, please. Come back… and show them you can sing .”

He turns to look at her at the top of the stairs. “I can’t,” he says, voice rough with tears. “I’ve tried, for over a year I’ve tried…. I’ve tried for Dad, I’ve tried for Mrs. Harrison, fuck, I’ve even tried for Quinn.” He gives a short, bitter laugh as more tears spill down his cheeks.

“I’ve tried so hard for you.” He gestures up to her, voice breaking. “I’ve tried for Mom.” He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a breath. “And I’ve tried for myself.” Mercedes is also crying a little now.

“For over a year, I’ve tried,” Kurt continues weakly. “But I just -- I can’t. Not… not now.”

He runs down the rest of the stairs and out the door, and he knows he just got himself kicked out of music, knows he just ruined everything.

From mercedes 💖, 2:04 pm:

Are you leaving?

From mercedes 💖, 2:06

Tell me when you get home. I love you

To mercedes 💖, 2:08 pm:

i will, at the park for now

From mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

I’ll bring your stuff around later.

To mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

thank you

To mercedes 💖, 2:11 pm:

i love you. i’m sorry

From mercedes 💖, 2:12 pm:

Nothing to be sorry for, just take care of yourself okay?

From mercedes 💖, 2:13 pm:

Give yourself a hug from me until I get there to do it for you

“Hey, kiddo, how was your day?” Burt asks as he walks in, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder who’s doing homework at the kitchen table.

“It was okay,” Kurt responds with a small but hopefully convincing smile to hide the worry eating away at him inside, because if the school’s already contacted his dad about today, about Kurt ruining his last chance…

“I gotta go again in a bit,” Burt says, taking a drink of water. “Some guy really needs a car fix by tomorrow morning, but I’ll be done by dinner.” Kurt nods, some relief flooding his veins. He turns back to his homework.

“Oh, another thing,” Burt says and Kurt stiffens again. “I wanted to come and check in with you -- I talked to a real estate agent today, and they said if we’re serious about selling the house, we need to take some pictures and stuff, clean everything… and I was wondering if you’re up for cleaning Mom’s studio?”

Kurt’s immediate surprise and hesitance must show on his face even as he tries to keep his composure, because Burt quickly assures, “It’s okay if you’re not ready, I promise; we have time. You know I just -- I wouldn’t even know where to start in there.”

Kurt smiles a little. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I can try tonight.”

“Awesome.” Burt ruffles Kurt’s hair, which from anyone else other than maybe Mercedes would not end particularly well, but Kurt just laughs and tries to brush the loose strands out of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Kurt. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

Kurt exhales slowly as his dad leaves again.

Cleaning out the studio means having to confront exactly what he’s tried to avoid for a year. The disaster that was music class today doesn’t make him feel better about it… but at least this time he’ll be alone -- none of the pressure of having to live up to the standards of well-meaning teachers or aggressive ex-best friends, none of the pressure of having to play at all, especially from the competitive nature at school. And… maybe he needs it.

Moving from here will only help you move on. Kurt’s aunt’s words echo in his mind. A part of him recoils at the idea of leaving his childhood home -- leaving the spaces his mom used to inhabit and her light and energy used to fill to the brim -- and starting over, someplace where there are none of those memories… he can’t tell if that’s a good thing. It feels like more of the running away that he’s been doing for a year, and he wonders if it really will solve anything.

But maybe he does need it. If staying in this house for the last year hasn’t helped, a change would be good, right?

Turning back to his work, he takes a deep breath and starts planning dinner in his head. He’ll tackle the studio after dinner’s ready.

To Dad, 7:39 pm:

dinner’s done, i’ll be in the studio

Kurt takes a slow breath as he opens the doors to the garage.

It’s not that it’s his first time in the studio after his mom died -- someone had to water the plants -- but he kept any interaction with the rest of the room minimal, so it still feels different to take in the full space instead of just rushing to the plants in the back with his head down. It always came with some guilt; it felt like the least he could do to keep some life in the studio when he could barely even bring himself to enter, let alone fill it with music as it needs to be.

He walks in slowly, some apprehension tickling the back of his neck, trying to stay calm. The familiarity is almost overwhelming this time as he looks around, actually taking in the room. The guitars on the wall, the couch and table, all of his mom’s decorations and knick-knacks. The chairs on the ceiling, story told with a fond smile from his dad about his mom wanting to decorate in a fun special way even while 7 months pregnant. The plants in the back, flourishing in front of the wall of windows positioned to let in the sunrise beautifully, not that Kurt has seen it happen recently.

And the grand piano -- in the center of the room, covered with a sheet, neglected for over a year. Kurt pulls it off now absentmindedly, letting the fabric pool over his feet. He takes a deep breath even though he probably just filled the air with dust, and goes over to the bench. He doesn’t open the lid, not yet. Some sheet music is on the seat and he places it on the piano without looking, sits down and gently touches the fallboard, inhaling shakily, not opening it to reveal the keys but just… remembering what it used to be, what it used to -- still means….

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut, “that I haven’t been here.”

With his eyes closed against the dark emptiness of the room, he can almost forget. It’s too easy to think that when he opens his eyes, his mom will be there, and she’ll be writing a song with him, or she’ll be playing, or they’ll just be talking…

Before the idea can flood his mind and leave him reeling when he returns to reality, Kurt stands and looks around the room again. There really is a strangeness to the place now. What used to be so comfortable and an extension of home -- sometimes even more home than the main house -- was always warm and brimming with emotion and joy and music and life -- now cold and dark and hollow, quiet. The familiar bones have an unsettling foreign emptiness around them. It feels wrong.

It needs to be filled. But… Kurt can’t do that.

He misses his mom -- always, but it’s amplified in this space that was always hers. He misses the feeling that the studio used to bring, that spirit that is now dimmed and suppressed. Covered, but still there. He can feel it like a gentle heat behind his skin. Not bad, but overwhelming, and he just….

The loft, Kurt decides suddenly. He’ll start with the loft. There aren’t memories and emotions so confusing and thick there that he’s barely able to avoid it, to push his way through with no energy left to untangle and understand. The loft is just full of random old stuff that his mom wouldn’t throw out and his dad teased her about.

So the loft first. And then he can ease into the rest when he’s more ready. After all, his dad did say they have time.

It’s significantly dustier in the loft; old instruments and random bags full of clothes are scattered and piled across the floor, his own electric keyboard propped up against the wall. Kurt stands on the stepladder a few steps below the actual loft floor, looks around a little, his eyes landing on a CD case lying on the ground -- black with a simple stark white word design: Sunset Curve. He picks it up, eyeing it thoughtfully, brings it back down to the main floor and decides to put it into the old CD player.

He doesn’t really know why he has such an urge all of a sudden. He’s listened to some music, but not nearly as much as before, and has actually chosen to listen to music only a handful of times since his mom died.

But… the studio needs music. As an apology for a year of neglect, and as a goodbye, he can let this music redeem the studio’s spirit a little, fill what he’s left hollow.

And he doesn’t want to be alone in the silence with his memories while he’s going through everything, even just in the loft. As something completely unfamiliar and random, this can give him the distraction and none of the pain. At least, that’s the plan.

Stepping down from the loft stairs, he glances at the picture in the CD case as he opens it -- a band of four who all look like teenagers, staring seriously into the camera -- he doesn’t get a good look at them, just slides the disc into the CD player and takes a seat on the couch.

The opening song starts strong with a gritty guitar riff and a 1, 2, 3! counting the band in. Despite himself, Kurt starts nodding along to the beat. It really is a great song, unique and upbeat…

Then some kind of… panicked screaming makes itself heard, first quietly and he thinks it could be part of the song, but it crescendos and gets unbearably loud --

And then there are three strangers appearing out of thin air before his eyes, screaming as they fall to the ground heavily. Kurt would wince at the sound of the impact --

That part’s certainly unlike any CD he’s listened to before.

He’s frozen, heart hammering and eyes widening as he stares at the three strangers picking themselves up off the ground, taking in their surroundings a little…

“How’d we get back here?” the middle one -- a shorter guy with black hair -- says breathlessly.

Kurt screams.

It’s not his finest moment, but three complete strangers just appeared in his mom’s studio, seemingly just popping into the air, and he can’t say he’s never been superstitious in his entire life or that he isn’t drawing immediate conclusions -- supernatural conclusions, fucking ridiculous conclusions. He doesn’t love that he runs into his dad on his way back into the house which may have also involved a little yelling about seeing ghosts (ghosts who screamed back, for the record), but he makes it to the safety of his room and texts Mercedes frantically, who doesn’t respond.

“Come on, Cedes,” he hisses to himself, shooting off another text. “Answer me!”

A knock from his doorway startles him and he just barely manages to hold back a shout, turning to see his dad leaning into his room hesitantly.

“You okay?”

Kurt gives him what must be a hysterical-looking attempt at a reassuring smile, all wide eyes and clenched teeth. “Yeah, no, totally fine, sorry for -- scaring you,” he replies choppily, tone not even convincing to himself. “Just, um, practicing for a school play.”

Burt definitely doesn’t believe him, but nods slowly anyway. “Well, I’m gonna go clean up -- ” He gestures over his shoulder with a grease-covered hand. “Dinner in like, ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Kurt says shortly, forcing another smile and a thumbs-up.

As soon as the door closes, Kurt turns back toward his window and tries to get a glance of the studio, but it’s blocked from this angle by the trees in their yard. Apprehensively, he heads back to the garage, thankfully not running into his dad this time, phone in hand and thumb hovering over Mercedes’ phone contact.

When he goes in, it’s empty; no sign of anything out of the ordinary happening.

He scans the space warily, feeling jumpy and nervous, but nothing happens and he mumbles, “I know I saw something, I’m not crazy.”

He hears a soft popping noise and then, “Well, we’re all a little crazy,” from behind him and he turns with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, my god, who are you?” Kurt yells, maybe a little too loud because the black-haired boy winces slightly and all three of them step back a little. “What the hell are you doing in my mom’s studio?”

“Your mom’s studio?” the black-haired guy scoffs. “This is our studio!”

The tall blonde guy bounces forward. “Yeah, like, the piano’s new, but -- ” He looks to the right and his face lights up. “My couch!” he calls, running over and jumping straight onto it.

The girl -- hair black and in braids -- rolls her eyes. “Not your couch, Sam.”

The blonde -- Sam? -- sits up indignantly, stabbing a finger in the cushions. “Hey, I spent more time on this couch than any of you. Pretty sure it’s mine at this point.”

Kurt just watches them with wide eyes, jaw hanging open, with absolutely no idea what to do.

“But these aren’t our instruments,” the black-haired guy says warily, looking around. At some point he and the girl have linked arms, Kurt notices. He watches as they all take in the studio, faces getting increasingly confused and worried. Kurt raises an eyebrow that apparently can go higher than it already is.

“Because… it’s my mom’s studio…” he manages to say again, mind still whirling at the hurricane of new and completely nonsensical information.

“Can you just -- give us a minute?” Sam says, jumping over the coffee table to join his friends. They turn away to talk in a huddle, and Kurt stands awkwardly as they talk in failed attempts at hushed tones.

Tina’s trying to ignore the pounding of her possibly-only-theoretical heart -- she’s dead, how can she even feel a heartbeat -- as she watches Blaine and Sam talk to the… living person in front of them. Sam makes his usual comment about “his couch” and Tina snarks back with her usual response and it gives her some comfort, some familiarity even in this studio which should feel like home, has for so long, and it still does to an extent, but everything here is suddenly different.

The comment does send the strange boy’s attention back to her, though, which she doesn’t really like. Blaine wraps an arm around hers and she squeezes his forearm in gratitude. He did that a lot when they were alive -- knew how and when to offer her his touch to reassure her a little.

At least there’s something that’s still the same.

At least her boys are still the same.

She tries to focus on Blaine’s arm in hers, on Sam’s dumb comments as he comes bounding back to them, hissing, “Guys, what is going on here?”

Tina shrugs. Blaine whispers, “Who is he?”

“He can hear you,” the person in question says pointedly from behind them, but Sam ignores him and says, “Maybe he’s a witch.” He looks up, pointing. “There are chairs on the ceiling.”

“There’s no such thing as witches,” Tina hisses.

“Are you sure?” Sam shoots back. “Because I used to think there was no such thing as ghosts!”

Tina swallows. “That’s fair.”

“So we’re going with witch?” Blaine asks.

“No!” Tina waves her hands at both of them. “No, come on. You guys are just -- he’s probably just overwhelmed, okay? Let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

Maybe “softer touch” wasn’t the right phrase to use in this instance, she thinks, but she really just wants answers and figures she might as well be straightforward. “Why are you in our studio?” she asks, maybe a little too aggressively, stepping up to the alive stranger.

He looks down with a shocked expression and Tina realizes she accidentally got close enough to touch him -- or… pass her hand through his, partially. They both watch as he brings his hand through hers again. It’s a weird feeling -- warm and kind of tingly, or like she’s putting her hand through water.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

Tina raises their eyebrows a little. “Okay, clearly you don’t -- clearly, he doesn’t get it,” she says, addressing the guys behind her. She turns back to the stranger, gesturing to herself and the others as she explains, “We’re ghosts. We’re just three ghosts, and we’re really happy to be home, so… thank you for the flowers; they really brighten up the room.” She tries to smile at him.

“We’re actually in a band called Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up, stepping up to flank her on the left.

“Tell your friends!” chimes Sam on her right.

“Last night was a really big night for us,” Blaine says, a little sadly. “It was gonna change our lives.”

Tina whispers, “Uh, I’m pretty sure it did.” Blaine huffs and elbows her gently.

“This is freaking me out,” the stranger says, shaking his head as he takes something from his pocket.

“What is that; what are you doing?” Blaine asks.

Alive Stranger looks up, fingers still touching the face of the object. “It’s my phone -- nope, stop talking to them! There’s no such thing as cute ghosts,” he says, seemingly to himself.

Sam gasps. “Think we’re cute?” He raises an eyebrow, making one of his insufferable Sam faces; Tina almost laughs.

The boy looks up again with wide eyes, gaze flitting to each of them as if watching for a reaction, swallowing and going back to his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” Tina asks, trying to see the side facing him because that doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen.

“I’m googling Sunset Swerve.”

“Sunset Curve!” Blaine, Sam, and Tina correct him at the same time, Sam drawing a curve in the air with his finger.

The stranger laughs nervously, staring at them with wide eyes and then back at his phone. “Okay… so there is a Sunset Curve.” He swallows again. “You guys did die. But not last night.” Tina’s stomach drops a little; Blaine and Sam get closer.

“Twenty-five… years ago,” the boy finishes, a confused look in his eyes.

Tina barely has time to register this before Sam says, “That’s impossible. All we did after we floated out of the car was go to that weird dark room where Tina cried.”

Her mouth drops open. “I wasn’t -- I -- we -- ” she squeaks, voice jumping up an octave. “I think we were all pretty upset,” she says, but she supposes Sam is right.

He pats her back and doesn’t have a chance to respond again because Blaine steps in, “That was just for, like, an hour, though. We just showed up here.” Tina and Sam nod.

“Look,” the living one says, finally turning his “phone” toward them. They lean forward to see a screen with a photo of them -- and Artie, Tina thinks distantly; she feels his absence acutely and it spikes through her chest -- taken for their summer tour, and a bunch of small text around it that she can’t read, a bold headline at the top reading, Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. “I’m just telling you what my phone says,” he explains. “You guys died in 1995. It’s now 2020.”

“So this is the future?” Sam asks incredulously as the boy pulls his phone back. Something else sticks out in Tina’s mind, though.

“So -- it has been twenty-five years,” she says, pausing to gather her thoughts. “I have been crying for twenty-five years -- how is that possible?!”

“You’re a very emotional person,” Sam reasons.

“I am not!” she insists, but the tears already pressing in the back of her throat want to prove otherwise. Distantly, she reminds herself that she’s with her friends who’ve seen it all and she doesn’t need to hold back, but the presence of this complete stranger also overrides the ease of her relationship with the guys. Sam rubs a comforting hand over her shoulder, and she swallows the tears down.

Alive Stranger shakes his head. “I gotta go… eat dinner,” he says slowly. He turns back around once he’s walked past the three of them and says, “Look, I’m really sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.”

“But we -- ” Blaine starts, starting to go forward but a sharp glare stops him and he clears his throat. “We didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s Kurt,” the stranger snaps.

“Cool, I’m -- Blaine,” Blaine says hesitantly. “And this is…”

“Sam, hey.”

“Tina, how’s it going…”

“Ba-da,” Blaine sings weakly, gesturing his hands in front of them like he’s presenting them to Kurt.

They all watch for Kurt’s reaction, but he just sighs and leaves the studio. He leaves the doors open, probably to remind them that they technically just got kicked out of their studio -- or, Kurt’s mom’s studio -- someone’s studio, but really it’s been their home for so long…

“Kurt seems nice,” Sam says cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Tina turns to him. “Did you miss the part where he kicked us out, or…” she says drily. Sam shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Okay,” Tina mutters, turning to wander around the studio some more. If they’re going to be kicked out, she wants to spend as much more time as she can here.

Kurt’s mind is a storm. He doesn’t know where to start with this new information -- with an evening that took such a sharp turn from reminiscing and sad and somewhat painful into just… something so completely different and unexpected.

Dinner Kurt can do. He can put the craziness of ghosts aside because dinner is easy, dinner is simple; dinner is important.

His dad has already set everything out so Kurt takes his seat across from him, sending a not-completely-true nvm everything’s fine, sorry for worrying you text to Mercedes, who finally got back to him at some point when he was distracted…

Distracted talking to ghosts.

“How’s it going?” Burt asks as he sits down and it takes Kurt a second to remember he must be talking about cleaning the studio, and not actually about ghost musicians.

Ghosts don’t exist. There are no ghosts in the garage. Don’t think about ghosts.

“It’s good,” Kurt says, poking at his food a little. “I’m starting with the loft.”

Burt smiles. “Those old instruments need a home.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, returning the smile. “Mom would like that.”

The instruments probably belong to some ghosts, Kurt realizes, but… nothing he can really do about that. And that’s if the ghosts can even touch objects.

They eat in comfortable silence for a while and then Burt sets down his fork. Kurt looks up apprehensively.

“So I got an email from the school today,” he starts. Kurt fiddles with his fork and drops his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay, Kurt, I’m not mad,” Burt promises.

You should be, Kurt thinks -- all that money spent for him to audition for and attend the music program, and for private lessons and sheet music and piano maintenance, just for him to throw it all away.

“I know those classes can be hard,” his dad says, and Kurt almost can’t take his gentle tone, feels guilty about it even though he appreciates it. “But… you still like music, don’t you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I know the memories are hard, believe me, Kurt. But, every time I see you, I see Mom, you know? And I love that, I really do. Maybe, if you give yourself a chance, you can, too.” Kurt looks up hesitantly to see his dad’s gentle, loving expression and eyes slightly glassy with tears. Looking down again, he swallows, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I will. I’ll try.”

Because what he said to Mercedes earlier on the staircase is true, but… he’ll always try harder for his dad.

“It’s okay, Kurt,” Burt assures him. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Kurt smiles and almost starts eating again, but music suddenly blares from outside, startling both of them, Kurt barely holding back a loud swear.

“What is that?” Burt says, getting up but Kurt rushes to reassure him, saying quickly, “I must have just left the CD player on in the garage! It’s fine, I’ll go get it!”

He runs back to the studio where the ghosts are still there apparently, and have somehow gotten instruments from the loft and set everything up to start playing, and play really loudly -- and it honestly sounds good but Kurt can’t focus on that because they’re going to disturb the entire neighborhood and get the cops called on them for a noise complaint and what is he supposed to say -- no officer, it was just the three ghosts in the garage being idiots, sorry?

Kurt yells for them to stop but it’s useless; he can barely even hear himself over how incredibly loudly they’re playing. Blaine, on an electric guitar that Kurt remembers seeing in the loft, turns and sees Kurt, walking towards him and finally playing one last chord when Kurt makes a horizontal cutting motion with his hand, and Sam, on the bass, follows, Tina playing one last short drum roll, looking up with a wide grin.

They all look… alive, Kurt thinks, despite literally being dead, so different from the confusion he left them with -- relaxed and loose and faces lit up, the energy flowing through them almost visible. If he didn’t know they were ghosts and made of air, he’d expect to be able to reach out and feel them, breaths hot and fast from the exertion and adrenaline, skin warm and slightly sweaty, hearts beating strong like the steady percussion of their band.

It reminds him of how music used to make him feel.

“Cut it out!” Kurt snaps, trying not to raise his voice too much. “The whole neighborhood could hear you! I thought I told you to leave!”

Blaine looks back at his bandmates, bewildered. “People -- people can hear us play?”

“Yes!” Kurt says exasperatedly. “My dad heard you from inside!”

“… What did he think?” Blaine asks after a moment. Kurt opens his mouth for an irritated response --

“Everything okay in here?”

Kurt whips around to see his dad in the doorway and smiles with wide eyes. “Yeah! I just -- had to turn off the CD player,” he lies.

People have told Kurt before that he’s a good liar; he really hopes that’s true after the evening he’s had -- he's having.

Burt’s attention is elsewhere, though, seemingly forgetting about the chaos from just a moment earlier. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?” he says, excitedly eyeing the instruments and… the ghosts that he can’t see.

“Junk?” Blaine exclaims. Tina stands up, her eyes on Burt, drumsticks gripped tightly in one hand.

They all watch apprehensively as Burt weaves through the instruments, even going so far as to rattle Tina’s cymbals and tap the drums, much to her horror. She fixes Kurt with wide, urgent eyes, to which Kurt just shrugs and gives her a helpless look. Hey Dad, actually, the ghost drummer wants you to stop, so…

“Hey, this stuff’s in pretty good shape,” Burt says excitedly. “Maybe we can make a couple bucks, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees weakly, mostly just watching as Tina fails to push Burt away from the drums.

“I like the song you had on,” Burt says, finally stepping away from the instruments. Tina rubs down a cymbal with her sleeve.

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up.

“Tell your friends!” Sam says, to a fond eye-roll from Tina.

“It’s just an old CD I found,” Kurt says, ripping his attention from the ghosts.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re listening to music again,” Burt says sincerely. “Out here, you can play whatever you want, whenever you want.” He waves his hands out on either side for emphasis, going through Sam and Blaine’s bodies. Kurt chuckles weakly.

“Oh,” Sam says, looking down at where Burt’s hand was in his stomach just a moment before. “That’s nice.”

“Stay out of this,” Kurt hisses.

“Sorry, Kurt, I’m just trying to help -- ”

“Oh! No, not you, Dad,” Kurt says quickly. For fuck’s sake -- “Just -- just give me a minute -- ” He starts pulling his dad toward the door. Burt stops him and says, “Hey, we’re gonna figure out this music program thing, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt says with a smile, and gestures for him to leave.

Once Burt is out of sight, he turns back to the ghosts.

“Wait -- ” Tina waves her drumsticks around a little. “So -- only you can see us, but everyone can hear us?” Kurt nods in confirmation. “What kind of ghosts are we?” Tina says.

“Who cares, dude!” Sam says, stepping up to Tina’s drum kit with a grin. “People can hear us play!” The three exchange fist-bumps as Blaine says happily, “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.”

“And Kurt’s dad likes our music!” Sam cheers.

“He’s a dad, it doesn’t count,” Tina mumbles, smiling and pushing Sam playfully when he turns to her with an offended look.

Confusion and annoyance bubble up inside Kurt along with something like anger at, just, all of it and he groans and says loudly, “Why can’t you guys just be normal ghosts? You know, go hang out at an old mansion or something! I hear Pasadena’s nice!” and turns to leave, slamming the door on his way out.

He just… has had too much going on today. He needs to -- ignore his homework and the problem with school and maybe just sleep in for the next two days. That would be really nice.

He’s so caught up in his head and he jumps and yells when a ghost appears in front of him with no warning.

“Don’t do that!” Kurt exclaims.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine says quickly. “ -- You do know how rad this is though, right? People -- people can hear us play!”

“Yeah, good for you,” Kurt replies, a little too harshly. “It’s just that I’ve had a really, really, awful day. I’ve gotta go.”

He walks past Blaine just to turn around again when he says, “I’m really sorry you had a bad day.” Kurt nods; he can tell Blaine wants to say more, so he waits.

Blaine continues slowly, “I just… three ghosts just found out they had a bad twenty-five years, and then they find out that the one thing they lived for in the first place, they can still do. So you can kick us out, but -- we’re not giving up music. We can play again; that’s a gift no musician would ever turn down,” he says earnestly, eyes wide and almost pleading.

That hurts in Kurt’s chest a little more than it should and he looks down again to avoid the passion and excitement shining clearly in Blaine’s eyes, in his voice, in his words. He swallows down the feeling that statement unearths inside of him, but suddenly his bad day is at the forefront of his mind again -- his bad year.

That’s a gift no musician would ever turn down … some musician he is, then. But he already knew that.

Blaine says softly, “You’ve gotta know that. Clearly your mom is into music.”

Kurt swallows. “Was,” he says, monotone and quiet. “She passed away.”

He hates that it’s become easier to say; he wants to either spit the words out or break down sobbing but he manages to keep his voice steady. (In the back of his mind, he wonders why he just told that to a random ghost he just met. Maybe he’s just going crazy. He’s literally talking to ghosts, after all.)

Blaine’s face falls. “I -- I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah, we -- we didn’t know,” Sam says quietly. He and Tina have also left the studio, standing on the other side of the low wall separating the garage area from the pathway back to the house. They look up with sympathetic eyes and Kurt looks away from them too -- can’t meet any of their wide, well-meaning gazes right now.

“It’s fine,” he dismisses. “Sorry I got mad.” The ghosts are thankfully looking at each other now, seemingly silent conversation passing between their glances. “You guys are pretty good,” Kurt says, trying to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, turning his gaze back to Kurt. “‘Pretty good’? You know that’s just, like, 25 years of rust being dusted off, right?”

“Do you play, too?” Tina asks.

“No, no, I don’t play.” It’s not exactly a lie anymore but it scrapes in Kurt’s throat with his haste to answer. “That’s all my mom’s stuff in there.”

“She’s an amazing songwriter,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, she was,” Kurt answers. “Wait… how do you know?”

Blaine opens his mouth, glancing at the others for a second. “We found a song on the piano,” he says. “If it’s hers… your mom was really talented.”

Kurt nods. She really, really was.

He feels like he doesn’t have the energy to say it again, so he just stays quiet. Somewhat awkwardly, he turns to leave, sensing the end of the conversation and part of him desperately wanting to just leave and not have to see these ghosts again….

So Kurt surprises even himself when he pauses and turns back to face them. “I guess,” he starts, and their gazes snap back up to him. “If you need a place to stay… you can stay in there.” He nods toward the studio and the ghosts’ faces light up. Kurt can’t help but smile back. “There’s a couch that turns into a bed, and in the back there’s a bathroom with a shower, if you still need any of that stuff.”

“Awesome!” Sam exclaims quietly, earning an elbow in the side and a questioning look from Tina. “What? Dude, I just really like showers,” he defends.

Tina rolls her eyes. Kurt takes a breath, raising his hands to gesture vaguely at the three of them. “This is just… too weird.” He nods to himself, finally leaving this time, leaving the ghosts to… do what they will.

The fact that there are ghosts in his mom’s studio…. Maybe there’s a chance that Mom knows them -- sent them, he thinks… but decides to not get his hopes up. She’s gone and he needs to just keep it at that.

What he really wants is to tell Mercedes, but he doesn’t know how.

What would you say if I told you there were three ghosts living in my mom’s studio? Kurt thinks on his way back to his room.

You’d say I’m crazy.

It’s some point in the night; they figured out that they don’t need to sleep -- can’t sleep, it seems like, which is honestly really annoying in Tina’s opinion because they’re ghosts with literally nothing to do for too many hours at a time -- so they’re just hanging out in the studio, with the lights outside giving them a little visibility through the garage windows, but it’s kind of nice to just sit in the dark.

Tina has been on the couch with Sam, lying on their backs, heads in opposite directions, legs pressed up against each other. Sam’s bass is unplugged, laid on his stomach and extending over Tina’s legs. He plucks out notes and Tina accompanies with a soft beat using just her hands and body parts as instruments. Sometimes it’s a familiar bassline -- a Sunset Curve song rehearsed or performed or recorded before -- and they also hum the harmonies that they know, and sometimes they improvise -- Tina storing the good bits in her mind for a future writing session.

Blaine is in the loft where they hoped a light could be on and maybe go unnoticed. Tina assumes that he’s writing; he always was when they were alive. And of course, now he has 25 years of dark room and relative nothingness to catch up on writing about.

It feels like another quiet night from when they were alive, each of them with an excuse to escape their homes for the night, and they’d all crash here, filling the studio with soft music and noise. Blaine would stay up writing and sometimes singing while Sam and Tina (and Artie) would try to sleep, telling him to stop humming, or, since the main house inhabitants who would care about the noise were rarely there, they would sometimes join along with him and make it a Sunset Curve midnight rehearsal.

They’ve never had the best sleep schedules anyway.

Tina giggles quietly as she and Sam play into nothingness, both parts running uncontrolled and unable to get back on track. They both stop and Sam starts playing a familiar line -- parts they’d worked out before with bass, drums, and both guitars, but never actually put into a song. Tina waits for a moment to come in with her part.

She’s nearly startled off the couch when Blaine poofs down beside the couch with his guitar and starts his part. Tina starts laughing -- probably too loud but they’re pretty sure only their music can be heard anyway -- and slides off the couch to sit on the ground, picking the drumming back up on her legs.

“You guys wanna check out this teleportation thing?” Blaine asks, playing the challenging guitar riff meant for electric guitar messily on his acoustic without a pick.

Sam sits up and puts his bass to the side. “Absolutely,” he says. “Where’re we going?”

“I have an idea,” Blaine says, setting his guitar down. He pulls Tina up and extends a hand out for Sam. “I think I can take you guys with me.”

“What?” Tina squeaks, but a second later, she’s sitting far above the ground, outside, on top of the marquee of the Orpheum. “Oh my god,” she mutters, looking down dizzily at the people passing by on the sidewalk. Her body tingles with a weird uncomfortable energy for just a few seconds before it fades.

“Yes!” Blaine laughs, kicking his legs up excitedly. “I mean, I know being a ghost isn’t our first choice, but it sure is easy getting around!”

“Easy for you, maybe!” Sam cries on Blaine’s other side. “I lost my shirt on that one!”

Tina looks over and sure enough, Sam is shirtless. She stifles a laugh behind her hand. “Like that’s a concern,” she pipes up, but Sam’s shirt appears right as she says it. They all laugh and sit in silence for a moment.

“So why’d you bring us here?” Tina asks, looking out across Hollywood Boulevard, the new and old buildings and shops, the people and cars of the future. The light of the Orpheum’s neon sign shines in her periphery, same as it did on a night twenty-five years ago. “Just another reminder of where we never got to play,” she says wryly, turning to face Blaine on her left, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you guys, it’s not over yet!” Tina reappears on the sidewalk right below them, almost losing her balance and falling through a person walking past. She shoots a glare at Blaine for teleporting them with no warning again, but he just grins back and starts down the sidewalk, Sam following. “Let’s see how many places we can play tonight, yeah? Check out the music scene of the future? And no trouble getting into those clubs anymore!”

Tina laughs, falling into step with them. She watches Sam walk straight through someone going in the opposite direction and doesn’t realize someone is in her way, which shouldn't be a problem, until she bumps into them.

She feels them.

“Hey!” she says involuntarily, turning to see who it was -- another ghost? A tall man with a cape and top hat nods at her with an acknowledging and almost menacing gleam in his eye, then turns again and walks away.

He could see her, he could touch her -- he has to be another ghost, right?

“Tina, you coming?” Sam calls. She swallows and takes one last look, the other ghost having disappeared among the other people on the sidewalk, before turning and running to catch back up with the guys.

“I just ran into someone,” she says, a little breathless -- she doesn’t know if that’s from running, which she doesn’t think she can actually get breathless from, or the fact that she ran into someone.

“Another ghost?” Blaine says.

“I mean, it has to be, right? Uh, Kurt -- Kurt can see us but he can’t touch us…”

“And his dad couldn’t either,” Sam adds.

“It must have been another ghost. He looked like a… performer, or something.” Tina wrinkles their nose a little as she remembers his whole get-up, completely out of place among what she’s seen so far of 21st century street fashion. (But then again, so is she, and her friends.)

“… I guess we’re not alone, then,” Blaine says, breaking a short bewildered silence.

“We’re never alone!” Sam exclaims, walking between them to throw his arms around Blaine and Tina’s shoulders. Tina laughs and grabs his forearm, mystery ghost forgotten for the time being.

Blaine responds with a grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Kurt wakes up earlier than usual the next morning. He thinks he still has school -- he doesn’t know how being removed from the music program works, but no one told him not to come and besides, he does have non-music classes to keep up with, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to. He gets ready as usual, leaving breakfast out for his dad, and there’s still half an hour before Mercedes should be getting here.

Perfect. There’s something he needs to try by himself… for himself.

He heads out to the studio with his things, a fluttering feeling in his stomach, but it’s different from the feeling before he tried to play in class yesterday, like the butterflies had turned to stone and were rolling around inside him, weighing him down and making him nauseous. This time it’s promising, hopeful, familiar -- butterflies fluttering normally, peacefully.

The room is empty when Kurt pushes the doors open and drops his backpack by the entrance.

“Guys?” he calls hesitantly, to no response.

He wonders if he should be worried about where the ghosts might be, or relieved for if they really did leave after all, since that is what he wanted… but he realizes relief is not at all what he feels at that possibility.

But if the ghosts aren’t here, then all the better for what he wants to do, so he decides to ignore their absence for now.

Kurt walks up to the grand piano in the middle of the room, thinking. There’s something… something deep loosening in his chest -- something about Blaine and the others and their intense passion for music that is so different from the intense judgment and competition at school that made it so impossible for him to play yesterday.

The way Blaine had talked about music…

The one thing they lived for in the first place -- they can still do.

A gift.

Kurt spreads out the sheet music that he found yesterday, just placed on the piano lid without a glance and it’s still there, so Blaine and the others must have just taken a look at it. He recognizes his mother’s handwriting, achingly familiar and beautiful in a minimalistic way, the neat notes and lyrics, clean and legible even without the help of staff lines. His heart stutters and he gasps a little as he reads some of it -- he recognizes the song. Something his mom told him she was writing when she got sick.

Kurt used to be so involved in her songwriting, but as she got worse and Kurt grew away from the piano (and from his voice), he never asked about this song.

She’d finished it.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know, you got someplace to go…

And he needs to hear it.

His fingers tremble slightly as he places them gingerly on the keys over the starting notes of the song. It feels completely different than it did yesterday; he doesn’t know if it’s the lack of teacher and students watching, the insanity of yesterday evening in between, the song itself… but the stones turned back into butterflies and it almost feels like it did before….

He wants to play, to make music. For the first time in a year, he actually feels like he can. And he needs to.

And if -- when -- it unlocks the memories… he thinks he’s ready.

Kurt takes a deep breath and plays.

#i somehow added like 25 words in my final edit just now lol #idk if anyone really cares but suspend ur disbelief at kurt singing julie's songs XD #i definitely know it probably would not work with her songs as is #they have Very different voices i am aware but i'm also too lazy to do anything about it so . they can be adjusted #to fit his voice right lol i just have no idea how that works 🤪 i just play piano and even then not really 🥴#so just like imagineee lol #i love how in the last part i said what would be endgame in this fic but like #damn i don't have any idea what's happening past what happens in the actual jatp show and #even then idk what's gonna happen within those bc it's not exactly the same 😂#lol but those ships Will probably like #have hints or something if that makes any sense laksdhgdjfs anywayyyy #kurt and the phantoms #my ficsssss #glee fic #glee #idk how i tag things lmao i think that's good enough XD #DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA #oh my god it's finally happening skdghsdhdkghdhjfhgjfgh #i've been working on this since my family went on vacation at the end of june so like two months fuckdghjfdkl #anyway lol hope y'all likeeeee 🥺💖#omg we're at 79 pages of google doc total lol

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bitchapalooza · 3 years

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More hetalia highschool AU, 🌟magic team🌟 edition :)

Under the cut bc it is long ❤️

Vladimir is that one kid obsessed with Twilight but only for the vampires; it was his first ever exposure to vampires thanks to his dad thinking Twilight was an appropriate book for a 11 year old. Team Edward going strong for five years, he'd proudly declare like it actually mattered. He tries his best to dress goth at school even though his uniform gets in the way. Fake ear piercings(his parents won't let him pierce them yet), over the top makeup, he's dyed the top half of his shoes black because his parents were concerned about his obsession with black and wouldn't buy him the black tennies he wanted— "mom look, these are marked down for back to school! Can I pleeeease get them???" "....may I know why the black ones specifically?" "They match the ever nothingness of my soul." "Yep! The white ones it is then!" "Mooooooooooom!"— Vladimir has been dubbed the cringy vampire kid of course.

Lukas is into pretty much anything concerning cryptids and magical creatures because they can't be proven to be fake or real, which intrigues him. He carries a book about mushrooms at all times and info dumps on pretty much anyone about identifying poisonous mushrooms and which mushrooms are safe to eat. His backpack is covered in buttons and pins to show off his interests. He keeps an amethyst in the front pocket of his backpack, reason unknown other than to just randomly pull it out and let Mikkel look at it. He's that kid that always wears his hoodie no matter the season, he never takes it off. Under his hoodie is always a crude worded t-shirt that the school would not approve of, much less his parents. He's relatively quiet and because he's quiet he's considered a weird kid.

Arthur can't decide if punk is his style or if goth is. Either way, his way of self expression at school in addition to the uniform is horrible. Checkered black/red shoes his grandma got him with his older brother's hand me down worn out greying socks—"can I PLEASE just have my own clothes???" "we have perfectly good clothes for you in the garage! I can fix them up to fit you better and everything!" "but I want cool NEW clothes!" "those are cool clothes and as far as the other kids know, they're also new. Now get your transformer backpack and get to the car. I put a new patch on it last night so that should hold it for the rest of the year."— Old Pierce the veil shirt, with holes chewed into the collar from his older brother Dillan, peeking out from under his white polo. A black and red choker to match his black and red slowly tearing apart too big flannel on top of a black pull over. A deep blue beanie, the hoodie of his pull over almost constantly on top when outside the school. He dyes a part of his hair a different color every month. He spikes his hair using too much gel and is convinced he looks good. He talks too much about bands and always gets Vlad and Lukas going on and on about fictional creatures he does not FULLY believe in himself. He does, however, believe in magic and loves Harry Potter, more specifically the Weaselys, to bits.

Natalya is a sophomore, a year behind the boys, and she just kinda pushed her way into the friend group until they eventually accepted her into it. They were the only three she knew who liked occult related topics. She's on the baseball team because she wanted an excuse to hit things with another thing and NOT get detention because of it. She wears the khaki uniform skirt and takes full advantage over being able to wear any kind of tights underneath; skull pattern, plain black, blood splatter pattern, fire pattern. Anything that makes her feel like a badass. She's always talking about antiques and forging weapons, more specifically knives. She has a whole collection of fidget toys but her favorite is this pea pod keychain her father gave her. She's always talking about how she'd like to be a medical examiner and to just prove that she's serious, she'll bring up a picture of a human model and point out the difference between a self inflicted fatal wound and a homicide. She puts up a charade of being able to see and talk to ghosts to freak out Alfred, her extended friend first met through Tolys.

They collectively believe they're cool and that other people know this. They're genuinely blind to the obvious snickers sent their way, being called losers and nerds. They're really knowm for like really pathetic things like; Natalya is Ivan's, tallest and most intimidating member of the wrestling team, weird younger sister by a year. Lukas is just the weird quiet kid that reads by the courtyard garden during lunch. Vladimir is not only the vampire goth kid but the kid who's parents believe the teachers are giving his son low grades on purpose and will yell at them for it. And Arthur is just. He's another Kirkland, immediately assumed to be a massive trouble maker because of his now graduated brother Alistair and one grade above him brother Dillan. Everyone loved his eldest brother Darick and sometimes compare him to Darick.

Compared to what others THINK they do, such as witch craft for some odd reason, the four of them do pretty typical teen activities. Like hang out at the mall. Do their honework together. Play video games and D&D when they have the chance. The boys do have sleepovers still as they have since meeting each other in middle school, Nat not really being a fan of sleeping where she doesn't live but comfortable enough to go to their houses and just chill for the day. They have become friends because of their related interests but thats not what they're ALL ABOUT.

Fun facts/stories about these losers I thought about while bored as fuck:

• Lukas, in his freshman year, went on a nature hike field trip with his lit class after reading Into The Wild. And he brought his mushroom book of course. They walked around, looking at the sights, talked about the book. Lukas just stops at one point, falling behind the class. He picks up a mushroom, goes to the teacher and is like "You see this? Its not poisonous." And straight up fucking eats it without warning. The teacher called an ambulance even though Lukas kept telling him he was fine and that that mushroom was 100% okay to eat raw, but for sure better off cooked. Lukas calmly shows the paramedics his book and they're like "yeah that actually was safe to eat, we don't need the book to confirm that, but um. Please don't ever pick something off the ground and eat it again. Just. Please don't do that, son." .....he did it again before leaving to go back to school but this time he didn't tell anyone.

• In elementary school, Natalya brought in a model of the human brain she asked her dad to borrow. He had to say yes because she was his only child genuinely interested, not bored of, his medical profession and he found it very cute and honoring. So she's at show and tell, its her turn right, and she silently goes up to the front of the class and pulls out the model brain. Teacher tries to step in because, hey, these are 6 year olds—AND WHY DOES THIS 6 YEAR OLD HAVE A PLASTIC BRAIN??? But Nat just shooshes her. In surprised shock, the teacher is just quiet as Nat begins to explain parts of the brain and their function— which was all wrong actually. She knew the words and everything but she didn't get the locations right. She sounded confident and smart and she was telling this to a bunch of 6 year olds so they believed her of course. End of the school day, her dad is having a hilarious conference with his youngest's teacher about the brain incident.

• Vladimir loves reading. He's loved it since he began to learn how, even if his dyslexia gives him grief along the way. So since he loves to read he'll always get excited and read ahead in class or in the public library reading club. One summer, the reading club was reading The Giver and it was getting really good. Vlad was loving the story, so much so that Vlad began to read ahead in his own time when he really wasn't supposed to be, the club was reading it together out loud and discussing it. Now he's read enough and worked hard enough to figure out how to help himself focus better and understand each word and sentence without having to reread it all multiple times over or get stuck. But sometimes the meaning and context to what he's reading doesn't ALWAYS process with the words as he's too focused on reading the words right and it passes right over his head. So Vlad is reading ahead and he's getting to the part where The Giver has given Jonas the memory of the sled again. And Vlad just sits there after reading that paragraph. He rereads it. And rereads it again. And then he leaves his book on his bed, goes to the the hall closet and takes out the ironing board. He grabs a plastic container to use as an ill attempt of a helmet and he just. Rockets down the staircase and hits the wall. He screams and cries and his parents rush in from the livingroom. When asked what happened he just says "I wanted to understand the sled scene better! Now I do and I feel really bad for Jonas!" He just couldn't quite grasp WHY the sled accident hurt, never had a broken bone nor sled afterall, and needed to find out. And that's how Vlad got his first broken arm at the age of 12.

• When Alfred and Matthew moved in with Arthur's family, Arthur didn't like it. He was a moody young teen but he was also just tired of the full house. His cousins were loud and nosey. He had to share a room with his four older brothers already and now with Matthew while Kathleen and Alfred got a room to themselves. Arthur thought this was so unfair. So his solution was to run away. He was 13, he needed a place to have some peace and quiet for once. So he texts Francis and Lukas, the only two of his friends living in his neighnorhood. Francis is not on board with helping him run away at first but then Lukas brings literally all his camping gear for Arthur's use and then Francis is on board because he had the feeling Arthur was going to get himself killed somehow. So as the elder one of the group he accompanied Arthur and Lukas out to the short stretch of woods behind the last street of their neighborhood, intending to go to the big clearing before hitting the roads leading to the airport and whatever else buildings. They're out there setting everything up together and they're done by like 4 pm. They sit down and talk, munch on oreos and other snacks Arthur deemed as essential survival foods. Then Francis looks at his cell and remarks "wow its already 6! Ah, Lukas, we should get home. Afterall, neither of us ran away so we still have supper to eat. Come on Lukas, let's go before our parents come looking for us." They exchange goodbyes, Francis trying his best to hide his cocky smirk. So Lukas and Francis start walking off, Arthur crawls into the tent and eats half a cookie before frowning and feeling too alone. He didn't expect to feel alone because all he wanted was to BE ALONE. Before he knows it, he's running out of the tent yelling after his friends to stop and wait up. "Oh whats wrong, Arthur? I thought you wanted to run away." "I— I forgot I hadn't fed my rabbit is all! I'll run away tomorrow! I'm not... Feeling lonely if.. If that's what you think...." Arthur did not run away the next day. Buuuuuut the three plus Vlad made a tree house together in the Kirkland backyard that they still use today!

#if you thought these four would be cool kids in this au then you thought wrong #hetalia #hetalia au #hetalia england #hetalia belarus #hetalia norway #hetalia romania #hetalia magic team #there should be more content of the magic losers + belarus tbh magic team is a bad group name but so fits their collective vibes so well

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akaashiclub · 4 years

Text

girls chase boys ☇ t.k.

☇ pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

☇ genre: fluff, oc is an absolute babie who has no shame, tsukishima goes from ‘she’s annoying’ to ‘she’s aight’ to ‘i may be lowkey in love w her it’s nbd tho’, oc will literally not give up, tsukishima is still a first year (word count: 4.1k)

☇ synopsis: usually when experiencing such a soul-crushing rejection, one would give up on their feelings, right? right?

☇ a/n: i binge-read some haikyuu fanmanga and i was ~inspired~ plus like... this trope?? persistant bubbly x uninterested cold is?? literally everything?? (playlist link: here)

“i like you!!!”

you kind of felt like the main character of a shoujo, with the wind making your hair dance in the air

standing face to face with your longtime crush

(and by longtime, you mean about two months)

that’s when it all started

no— it was earlier

the orientation ceremony

all the first years standing in neat, organized rows, listening to the principal give a welcoming speech

at least, that’s what you were supposed to be doing

in reality, your eyes were trained on the 188cm tall blonde in the row in front of you

you couldn’t see the stage— also, you didn’t care

bc ~he~ was in front of you

tsukishima kei

you learned his name later when you discovered you were in the same class

and he sat in the adjacent row, one seat forward

the absolutely perfect position to stare at his side profile the entire class

and that is exactly what you did for two months

that and gathering info on him

tsukishima kei, 188.3cm (now 190.1), born on september 27th, best friends with yamaguchi tadashi, #11 on the karasuno volleyball team

and then there you were, confessing your undying love to him

...or something like that

“no thanks. not interested.”

usually, that would soul-crushing enough to make them leave him alone

not you <3

the giggle that escapes your lips makes his eyebrow twitch on confusion for a second

“that’s okay~” you respond.

(that’s okay ?)

(what the fuck kind of response is that being rejected ???)

(yours!!!!)

you’re exhaustingly persistent, as tsukishima comes to find out

or should i say—

“tsukki~!!”

the hair on his neck rises when you flounce into homeroom with that sing-song tone

you plop down into the seat in front of him (key note: not yours) and rest your elbows on his desk with a little grin

“don’t call me that,” (he doesn’t look up from his book)

“what~! why not?”

“only my friends call me 'tsukki’”

you snort, scooting a little closer

“that’s mean. how many times have we walked home together, and we still aren’t friends?”

“you followed me home, i didn’t consent.”

“‘followed you’?” you pout. “we live on the same road, naturally we’d walk home together,”

he doesn’t respond, just flips to the next page in his book

“do you have volleyball club today~?”

ignored.

lol

she stays strong!! she doesn’t give up in the face of adversity!!!

“you don’t have to answer, i already know you do.” you chirp. “it’s boring walking home without you... maybe i’ll come with you today~!”

it’s like talking to a wall

(a very cute, 190cm, blonde, glasses-wearing wall.)

(🥰)

instead of responding, he puts his headphones on and keeps reading

a small exhale escapes your lips, and one of the girls in the next row over leans towards you

“y/n... i think it’s a lost cause...”

“he’ll come around eventually,” you shoot her a smile, and then turn back to tsukki

you lean forward, reaching towards his head and tugging the headphones down around his neck

and when he looks up (he does within an instant), you shoot him a sly smile

several students around you gasp

after all, who would dare bother tsukishima with his headphones on??? that’s some instant death shit

“move.”

“i like being this close to you though,” you tease

and he rolls his eyes, standing up and heading for the exit of the classroom

the shock in the classroom — that you’re still ALIVE — is clear

your friend from before gapes

“y-y/n what are you playing at??”

“courtship,” you sigh dramatically, and hop to your feet to chase after the blonde monster

“tsukki~!! are you getting lunch?? wait for me~!!”

everyone on the first floor knows: it’s become the norm to see tsukishima, book in hand, headphones around neck, and followed by a chirpy pipsqueak

even yamaguchi doesn’t stick as closely to him as ‘tsukishima’s lapdog’ (as you’ve started being called by the fellow first years) does

the nickname doesn’t really bother you

after all, it’s just a reminder of your determination and refusal to give up

which is a virtue, in your mind!!

some people feel bad for tsukishima, constantly being bothered by you for weeks on end

others admire your stubbornness

and one group of people you can always count on supporting you are the karasuno volleyball club <3

ever since you started showing up to their practices

and all their practice matches and official games too

they all befriended you

but you grew tired of just sitting and watching tsukki on the sidelines, so you asked coach ukai if you could help out during practices!!!

there can’t rly be ... three managers... so you suggested retrieving balls or being tsukki’s personal assistant

he saw right through you <3

but it’s ok bc he thought it would be entertaining and agreed

tsukki: angy

even when he’s annoyed he’s cute tho <33 and you make sure to tell him that <333

and so! you get tsukki’s water, towels, etc etc (ofc u help other ppl too when they need it but tht’s what the two managers r for... tsukki is ur #1)

the other players are like 0.0 she’s kinda scary... but cute at the same time doe...

one day you’re in a particularly good mood (aka: a bad day for tsukki lol)

“tsukki~!”

“don’t call me that.”

“i want to tell you something,”

the whole gym is kinda just 👁️👄👁️ waiting to see what happens

“what? i need to change, hurry it up.”

ur inner monologue: kdNNN even when he’s mean he’s cute!!!!

but anyways:

“i like you,”

hinata, kageyama, tanaka, noya, literally everyone: 😳😨 mf what—

sugawara’s like “oh god he’s just reject her and crush her heart... right in front of EVERYONE—”

“not interested.” tsukki says, and his tone isn’t any less cold than usual

u kno that anime lightning effect when the character’s body is joLtED...

tht’s everyone else in the gym

tanaka and nishinoya are highkey ready to let you cry into their jerseys when—

you laugh

you right after being mercilessly rejected: 🥰

you can’t help it !!!!! it’s not discouraging you ok??? you alr knew what he’d say!!! but you had to tell him <3 can’t let him forget tht he’s the ✨love of your life✨

entire gym: s h o o k

“did she just l a u g h??”

“is she okay?? no srsly”

“what... just happened”

tsukki walks off, water bottle in hand

you follow after him, bouncing on the soles of your feet

“don’t forget your towel~! want me to wipe off your sweat~?”

“no thanks.”

cue fading banter between you two as he goes to change his clothes

he has to be like hOe GeT oUT for you to not go into the locker room lmfao damn... thirsty bitch... same tho

later tanaka and noya (feat. hinata who just wants to be included) jump tsukki

“shE LAUGHED WHEN U REJECTED HER??? IS SHE OK???”

“she confesses to me every week. she’ll do it again. it’s not that big of a deal.”

“not thAT BIG— can u imagine if kiyoko liked us that much.... ”

(cue tanaka sobbing)

tsukki was right tho

after the third time you randomly confessed to him in front of them they were just like

same shit different day, anyways rolling thunder

but they still highkey adopted you

so they go grr grr when tsukki rejects you all cold and shit

shockingly tho??? the more you confess the less it’s “not interested” and more just “*sigh*”

is this... PROGRESS???

but the zero braincell triad cornered him again in the locker room one day

(it’s their trademark)

(nishinoya) “so why do you keep rejecting her??”

(hinata popping in) “yea she’s super dedicated and helpful!!!”

(tanaka lowkey shuddering) “she’d probably let herself get hit in the face w a volleyball if u asked”

(and tanaka would be: correct)

(but anyway)

“she was annoying,”

“she... ‘was’ annoying???”

“... she IS annoying”

“tsukki... do you possibly like her??? but you’ve gotten so used to rejecting her that it’s automatic now??”

tsukki’s like V.V

“you’re reading too much into it,”

sage!nishinoya is about to probe deeper but at that moment you pop your head around the corner of the locker room and shout

“tSUKKI~!!!”

and they all scatter to hide themselves while shrieking

except tsukki, who is already clothed and gives zero fucks lmao

but anyways!!! a couple weeks pass and takeda got y’all set up with a practice match !!

with who?? nekoma!!!

hinata is like 🤩🤩 kENMA!!

only players and members of the club are supposed to go rly....

but you’re like “??? i’m tsukki’s personal assistant are you trying to take away my rights??? i’ll sue you” and coach ukai gives in sdjfkf

“tsukki can i sit with you~?”

yamaguchi about to sit there: 👁️👄👁️ bruh

tsukki doesn’t say yes but he also doesn’t say no :D

“what’re you reading?”

“english book,”

you’re like: wait— mf hold up... did he actually just answer ??

tsukki simp mode: ACTIVATED

“can i see??”

“you’re failing english, you won’t be able to read it.”

“ouch,” you pout, but there’s a small smile on your lips. “but how’d you know i was failing english?”

he doesn’t respond

“i guess it is unfair that i know everything about you and you don’t know anything about me...” you sigh

“you don’t know everything about me,” he retorts, still not looking up from his book

hehe~ gotcha

“oh? test me,” you grin, scooting closer to him

“don’t wanna.”

“you’re just scared i do know everything,” you say smugly, trying to bait him

“bet you don’t know everything about me!!!” hinata pops up from the seat in front of you

“you’re right, i don’t,”

(he pouts and disappears again)

“tsukki~” you whine. “tsukkiiiii~ i’m bored.”

“so?”

“can i wear your headphones?”

“no thanks. i don’t wanna get headlice.”

you scowl. “mean,”

you bite your cheek, staring a hole in the side of his head but he doesn’t even blink

if tsukki could major in ignoring you people, he’d have straight A’s

fortunately, you have ways to counter this

“kei~~” you whisper a little too close to his ear, and he jolts up

you try not to let the amusement show on your face, but you can’t help it

glaring at you, he pulls his headphones off his head and puts them on yours

“now be quiet,”

“mm~” you chuckle

a couple hours later, you pull into the parking lot of nekoma

the friend groups pair off, and kuroo makes a beeline for tsukki, only to catch sight of you

“hey four-eyes— who’s this?”

tsukki glances down at you, to which you shoot him a sugary smile

“dunno,” he says, and walks off

you wave to kuroo with a sunny grin

“i’m y/n~! i’m tsukki’s personal assistant and future wife~”

his eyebrows rise, and with a quick bow, you bounce after the blonde

once the group is all in the gym, practice jerseys are handed out and you help yachi and shimizu prepare the water and towels

you’re about to make a beeline for tsukki, when someone calling your name stops you

“y/n! wanna get me some water?” kuroo calls

you only blink for a moment before hopping to it, darting across the gym

for the rest of the day, kuroo is constantly calling for you—

“y/n! can you wipe the sweat off my neck?”

“hey, y/n, get me some water~”

“y/n!”

“y/n, over here!”

and by the time the several hours is over, you haven’t gotten to speak to tsukki once 🥺 snnff :(

when you finally get a free moment, you look around for him, but he’s nowhere to be found

sad face :(

and then !!!! turns out nekoma paid for bbq for everyone 🤩🤩 cats are so generous

and somehow??? you find yourself surrounded by nekoma players???

“here y/n, want some of my bbq?”

“no, take mine!!!”

“do you want any fruit?? i have some!!”

“you were so helpful today!! how’d you stay so energetic the whole time??”

you flash a smile, ready to charm the shit out of them, when a voice interrupts:

"hey, personal assistant.”

your eyes light up, bc you’d recognize that salty ass voice anywhere!!!

the guys around you part to reveal—

“tsukki!!!” you squeal, maybe a little too excitedly

“aren’t you supposed to be assisting me?? get me some food.”

you shove your plate into the free hand of one of the nekoma players (his name was... liam? lief... lev?) and dart to get tsukki something to eat

when you hand it to him, you flash him your most dazzling smile

“eat up! you worked hard today~”

he eyes you silently before digging in, and you smile absentmindedly while watching him

“why are you staring at me like that?”

“because i like you,” you respond without hesitation

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything mean

your stomach flips a little

i’m coming for you, tsukishima kei.

on the ride home, you’re once again sitting next to him, and he gives up his headphones without a fight this time

you’re so tired from running around helping kuroo all day that you find your eyelids getting heavy as tsukki’s music plays in your ears

you try to subtly lean on his shoulder but he pokes you away

you glare at him, pouting, but settle for leaning against the headrest

and then, you’re drifting off

and you’re having a strange dream

a pleasant dream, with fuzzy corners and honey-colored light streaming across the scene, but still strange

in this dream, he’s kissing you

it’s not like you haven’t had dreams like this before, it’s just that this one feels so much more vivid

and yet blurry at the same time

even when the dream ends and you blink back into consciousness you can still distinctly feel his lips against yours

his glasses brushing against your cheek

his fingers interlacing with your hair

a warm smile curls up your lips as you grasp lingering wisps of the dream, when—

“you’re drooling.”

your eyes snap open and you jolt up, furiously wiping the side of your mouth

“am not!!”

tsukishima blinks uninterestedly from the empty bus aisle, arms crossed

“dreaming about something vulgar?”

you grin, resting your chin on your palm

“would you like to hear ab—?”

he’s just “nope,” and turns towards the exit

hopping out of the seat, you follow him

“it was such a nice dream,” you sigh

“must’ve been, if you were drooling that much.”

“i was not—”

and then you notice something

everyone else is already gone from the bus

“wait a minute... did you wait for me?”

you hear a scoff

bUt hE dOEsNt DeNy iT

“you WAITED for me!!!!” you exclaim, happiness radiating off you in waves

“if i’d left you on the bus, nishinoya and tanaka would’ve killed me if i didn’t,” he says curtly

but you are, after all, the human equivalent of ‘this sign can’t stop me because i can’t read’

or that tiktok trend

tsukishima: i don’t like you, i only waited for you because i was literally forced at gunpoint

y/n: 🎶i waited for you🎶

the next day, it’s practice as usual at the karasuno gym

but?? sniff sniff someone is here that shouldn’t be

this rando first year has been pacing around right outside the gym entrance

and all the vbc members are like 👁️ whomst?

and when you finally arrive (right along behind tsukki)

he yells out your name

and holds out a bouquet of flowers <3 how cute

“y/n, um— i, i know you don’t know me but i’ve liked you since the orientation ceremony!!! i think you’re really pretty and cute and smart—”

cue a quiet scoff from tsukki, “if she’s his definition of smart, then how dumb is he?”

cue sugawara jabbing his side (sugamama is protective of his child y/n)

“—and i know you like tsukishima, but i hope you’ll give me a chance!! i can make you happier than him!!”

at this point, everyone in the gym is watching like 👁️ oh?? TEA??

and is that... is that an aura of raging irritation coming from tsukishima??

you open your mouth to politely reject the guy, when

literally out of nowhere tsukki just a p p e a r s

“hey, idiot. aren’t you supposed to be my personal assistant?? go set out the volleyballs instead of flirting,”

you dip your head and smile apologetically at the guy before heading towards the store room

and after that, you notice tsukki is a bit harsher, a bit more off his game, a little more easily irritated than usual

during a free moment, you nudge tanaka

“doesn’t he seem like he’s in a bad mood??”

zero braincell tanaka is like “??? isn’t he always like that??”

“no... something is definitely off today...”

what . could it be . i wonder .

every time you try to do your usual “tsukki~!!” he just turns away and ignores you

doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary, but you can just tell something is wrong

you still have no idea why he’s acting like this by the time practice ends

and when you go to the locker room to find him (so y’all can walk home together), he’s already gone :(

so, a little more droopy than usual, you head out

only to be surprised by a voice when you step outside

“took you long enough,”

you whip around to see tsukki leaning against the wall with crossed arms

he clicks his tongue and then sets off

and when you don’t immediately follow him, he glances over his shoulder

“are you coming or not?”

sdjfksjsdkjfsdjf smmpdfhsdf !!!!!!!

it’s just one sentence, and it doesn’t really mean anything

but hearing the words makes something incredibly warm bloom in your chest

you grin

“of course i am,”

that feeling lasts well into the next morning, but is replaced by a nauseating knot in your stomach when you arrive at school

because everyone’s whispering about one thing:

“tsukishima got called to the principal’s office!!!”

“whaaat ! why??”

“i heard he was caught with the answers for the upcoming exam!!”

your stomach . clenches

and before anybody can say another word, you’re sweeping out the door and down the hall

and in less than 30 seconds, you’re slamming open the door to the principal’s office

the principal and tsukki both look up, equally shocked at your sudden appearance

“y/n, what—”

you ignore him for the first time in your life

“sir, i need to tell you something.”

the principal is just like “... ?? can it wait??”

“no, it can’t.” you take several steps forward “the test answers, they—”

“y/n, don’t—”

you ignore him for the second time in your life again

“they’re mine,”

the principal blinks

“then why was tsukishima found holding them before class??”

“yesterday, they must’ve fallen out of my backpack. he probably picked them up without knowing what they were, so please don’t punish him,” you bow. “punish me instead,”

.. y/n dumb bitch

yea, you’re suspended for two weeks

and ofc there’ll be a mark on your record

plus you’re automatically given a fail for the upcoming exam so you’ll have to retake it later oof....

but as much as all that sucks, you don’t regret it bc you’d rather take the fall than let tsukki be wrongly accused and suffer for it

but honestly the break from school is kinda vibes 🥴

don’t even think about the homework you’ll have to make up

your phone is blowing up with texts from your friends

including your surrogate dads and moms from the karasuno vbc 🤧 they’re so worried about you

you’re sad you have to miss practice for such a long time but... you don’t regret your decision

“y/n!!” your little sister knocks on your door “one of your classmates is here for you,”

“‘kay!!” you call back, checking the time

shidt bitch time flies when you’re watching anime alone in your bedroom

you hop up and open your bedroom door to come face to face with the one. the only. tsukishima kei

your eyes are like O.O

“tsukki??? what are you doing here??” you grin “are you here because you’re worr—”

“no,” he cuts you off “i’m here to deliver your homework,”

“you could’ve given it to my sister, y’know,” you tease. “why’d you come all the way to my bedroom?? you missed me, hm?”

he doesn’t answer, instead surveying the room before sitting down on the edge of your bed

you blink, surprised he didn’t comeback with a cold retort

“tsukki?” you ask quietly, sliding into your desk chair

after a moment of silence, he fixes you with a stoic gaze

“why’d you lie?”

“because... because i couldn’t let you take the blame for that. i don’t know what happened, but i know you weren’t cheating. i know it.”

“neither were you. what’s the difference?”

you press your lips together in a frustrated pout

“the difference is that it’s you!!! i’m mediocre. i’m not outstanding. i’ll go to an average college either way, and it’ll be fine. but you..! you’re so smart!! and talented!!! you could do anything you want!!! you could get into an elite college!! the last thing you need is for some stupid misunderstanding to sully your transcript—”

“y/n—” he tries to cut in, but you bulldoze right over him

“— and i know you probably think what i did was useless and unhelpful, but i don’t care!!! i don’t care about a mark on my transcript, or being suspended, or failing all my exams, or even being expelled—”

“y/n—”

“— but i absolutely refuse to let that happen to you!! you’re too special for—”

this time, it’s not him speaking that interrupts you

this time, it’s him kissing you

you nearly combust on the spot

tsukki— tsukishima kei is kissing you

he’s leaning over you, with one hand on the chair’s armrest and the other steadying your head with his fingertips

your stomach does several full somersaults

and then, all too quickly, he pulls away and returns to his spot on your bed

you stare, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape

“w— what was— why did—”

“you wouldn’t stop talking,” he mutters, eyes focused a little too hard on the wall

for a moment, you’re too shocked to move

and then your 🥰tsukki🥰 mode activates

and you just fuckin LUNGE at him

“y/n??? what—!”

kisses!!! kisses on his cheeks!! his nose!!! his forehead!!!

and shockingly he doesn’t?? push you off??

me heart just skipped a beat wjdkfjs

he’s just like “y/n, you’re fogging up my glasses, please stop,”

“i refuse!!!! i’ve been waiting months to do this!!!!!”

once he manages to de-suction you from him, you fix him with doe eyes and a cheeky grin

“hey, tsukki??”

“.. what?”

“i like you,”

he blinks

adjusts his glasses

“make sure to finish that homework. i’m bringing tomorrow’s homework too,”

as he’s leaving, you hope he can feel your glowing smile on his back

the next day, you get a message from the school letting you know that your suspension and other punishments have been retracted

as the real culprit of the cheating was found

an unannounced locker-search discovered several exam cheatsheets almost exactly like the one tsukki found in the locker of a student, and the school realized their mistake <3 how nice of them

and that meant you were free to return to school, name cleared!!!

the volleyball club was eagerly awaiting your return

so when they saw tsukki arrive for practice, they expected you’d be following right along behind him

but instead???

you were koala-ing on his abdomen

“bro... did you carry her all the way here like that??”

“the real question is why he allowed it,”

you shoot a blinding grin at the guys

“he can at least do this much for his girlfriend~!”

the entire gym is like WhA T !!!!!

“hE SAID YES???”

“nope,”

“he... asked you out?? then??”

“also no...”

“did he at least tell you he liked you...?”

“...”

“NISHINOYA STOP SHE’S TEARING UP,” sugamama to the rescue

you let go of tsukki and half the team goes IN on him

“dude wtf!!! she got suspended for you and you didn’t even at least tell her you like her???”

“not just suspended, almost expelled!!!”

“yeah that!!!”

“i say we kill tsukki,”

“tanaka no,”

“GUYS!!” angry!daichi makes an appearance “it’s time for practice!!!”

grumbling, the team disperses

you’re about to head to the store room to help get out the practice equipment, when—

“y/n.”

you turn “hm?”

he’s silent for a moment

“i wouldn’t have kissed you if i didn’t like you.”

your face flushes a deep red

but then he adds, “either time.”

either...? time...?

W A I T

your eyes POP OUT

“that— that wasn’t a DREAM???”

he doesn’t answer, just heads onto the court

but you think you see a slight smirk

and maybe... just maybe??

his ears are a little more red than usual.

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