#like the only honest professor ive had in my first ever class said | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satuguro · 1 year

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*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT II: A QUESTION OF MORALITY ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— tara thinks not even a murderer can disturb you, you have no friends and spider-man knows, and your cats like spider-man a little too much.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, gore, blood, murder, death, sexual/suggestive content (in this part & some other parts), reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for the support on the first part xoxo

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

you shut your book as lecture was concluded, gathering your notebook and notes together and putting them into your bag. your headphones hung around your neck, and in any other day you would’ve put it on and not said a word to anyone, but you were standing next to tara, waiting patiently for her to pack up.

her hands were shaking slightly as she shoved her items into her backpack hurriedly, occasionally dropping pencils. “fuck,” tara muttered under her breath, quickly picking up her dropped pencils and putting them into her bag haphazardly.

“you seem on edge,” you stated dryly, making her huff in frustration. of course, you knew the reason why; there was no need for her to treat you like a therapist and tell you everything.

“that’s one way to put it.” tara sighed as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. she walked alongside you as you made your way towards the exit. “you don’t usually wait for me,” she stated, glancing at you suspiciously, though you were looking ahead of you and not at her.

“i guess this class is finally teaching you something,” you hummed, looking at her from the corner of your eye. she didn’t seem to let it up, still tensed as you sighed, rolling your eyes. “call it a change of heart.” your response didn’t calm her completely, but her shoulders relaxed.

you both passed your professor, who acknowledged your leave with a small, “miss carpenter, miss vaughn,” which you only nodded at. you walked ahead of tara and held the door open for her.

“did you hear about the murders?” tara asked, tilting her head at you as you began to walk. she was probing at you, you knew that, but you knew better than to admit that ‘no, i’m not worried because i steal things to pay rent rather than kill people and i’d rather pay attention to that,’ so you kept it as honest as you could.

“‘course i did. just because i have no friends doesn’t mean i live under a rock, tara,” you teased with a slight smile, making her roll her eyes. she couldn’t even deny it; she of all people knew you kept to yourself. the only time she ever saw you socializing was at parties, flirting with guys and making them believe they were in charge of the situation before you led them upstairs (when you obviously had them wrapped around your finger).

“well, obviously. it’s just.. everyone seems so on edge, and it makes sense!” tara added hurriedly, “i’m not saying it doesn’t! but you look so..”

“so..?” you raised a brow.

“so calm.” tara let out a long sigh, hands holding onto the straps of her backpack. “i don’t know how you do it.”

was she asking you how to stay calm? you blinked, trying to analyze her words in a way you could understand. was she indirectly asking you for advice? “well, this is kind of an atypical situation to stay calm in,” you began, glancing at her, “but i’d say i’m just too spiteful to let anyone other than me influence how i feel. i’m not gonna let some psycho have so much power over me that i can’t live my life, y’know? i've been stressed out enough."

you looked away from tara, only slightly embarrassed at your own words. this was why you had no friends; too much second hand embarrassment. your eyes settled on the pavement ahead of you, tilting your head in interest at the sight of tara’s friend group; her sister, sam, mindy (who you only knew because you had taken a shot with her once) and some other people you didn’t know.

“you give good advice, y/n.” tara said, making you scoff as you raised a hand and waved her compliment away.

“whatever,” you said, managing a small smile her way. turning back to her friends (who were walking closer) you said a quick, “stay safe, tara,” before you walked away, allowing her friend group to walk up to her.

you passed by a brunette boy as you put your headphones on, not bothering to say hello to tara’s group (they were her friends, not yours). but you were too preoccupied with your music to notice that you had passed ethan, who looked back at you as you walked away. he took in your form, how you dressed in strictly black and white clothes yet had a tote bag with a small cat charm on it. he didn’t even get a good look at you, but he found himself watching you walk away.

“dude.” chad nudged his shoulder, breaking him from his stupor. a knowing grin made its way onto his friend's face, one that made ethan’s ears and cheeks burn red.

“don’t say anything.”

“who is she?” chad asked shamelessly loud, ignoring ethan’s groan of embarrassment. his voice broke the conversation the girls were having, making them lean in out of interest.

“literally no one!” ethan exclaimed, silently begging for chad to not make a big deal out of it. he’s been on his ass for ‘not putting himself out there’ and choosing the library life instead. he always told him off for never truly living a life of someone his age.

if only chad knew that ethan had been craving that feeling of living as though he was his age and not some 30 year old man. but after richie’s death and after he basically (almost) cut off his family (not to mention his secret nighttime job as a superhero), he felt as though that was basically impossible. simply put, ethan landry had more important things to focus on rather than worry about living like a college student.

“not really no one,” tara stated, poking her head into the conversation. “that’s y/n vaughn—”

“another side character. see— probably gonna die,” mindy said to her girlfriend, anika, who sighed as she squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“sure, babes.." anika said, "but maybe don’t assume everyone tara talks to is like, cursed or something?”

“i only ever talk to her during my psych class, so don’t worry,” tara huffed, sitting down at a nearby bench. chad wordlessly sat next to her. “i probably haven’t cursed her. besides, she doesn’t seem like the type to be really bothered by that stuff.”

“what does that mean?” ethan asked, sitting next to chad.

“she’s just really straightforward— the nonchalant type, y’know.”

“even more suspicious!” mindy stood up in front of them as though she was ready to give a presentation; which, honestly, she kind of was. a dark look befell her features as she began to talk about the possible suspects, listing off everyone’s name one by one and including one extra; y/n vaughn.

you polished every one of your retractable claws, pulling your lamp over it to allow it to shine brightly. it was razor sharp at this point, as you had been using everything in your power to make them as dangerous to others as possible. your room was boiling hot, and you had opened up the window of your room, silently thankful you had a balcony and not a fire escape. at least then, no psychos could casually climb up to your apartment.

the photo of you and your father was situated on the corner of your table as you worked; you, age only 8, were wearing huge headphones as you sat on your father’s shoulders at a rock concert. it was one of the few photos you had of your dad, and while you didn’t want to think of yourself as a particularly sentimental person, you were probably just in denial. because even as you worked and only saw it in the corner of your eye, you felt that familiar tug of pain in your chest.

if only he knew that you had a deal with an insect themed superhero.

you checked the clock, letting out a sigh upon seeing ‘11:12 am’ flash back at you. you were already 12 minutes late to your meeting with the hero, and you weren't even dressed yet. the sound of paws hitting your table and a soft coo made you turn your head towards one of your cats, a genuine smile gracing your features.

"how did i get into this situation, bitters?" you sighed, holding your hand up and feeling bitters rub his black fur under it, purring loudly. reluctantly, you stood up and began to get dressed, stripping before pulling on your usual black suit and mask. you reached for your gloves on the table and retracted your claws before reaching for the rest of your equipment; your grappling hook, your throwing knives, and your gun. the murderer (or murderers) were clever, you knew that, and they probably spent months or years preparing for their plan.

you never underestimated someone with a drive to kill.

the night was calm, void of any strong and chilly winds. the moon was still as full as ever, hanging over you like a lamp as you made your way out your window and shot your grappling hook up to the nearby building's ledge. pulling yourself up and over to the next roof, you began to run, allowing the adrenaline to flow smoothly through your veins.

your legs helped you jump over the gaps between the buildings as though it was second nature to you; and in a way, it was. you had been stealing ever since your father died, only taking up bigger projects when you were 16. you knew how to slink your way between alleys and roads, how to travel across streets and cops undetected. you weren't a novice.

the building in front of tara and sam's apartment came into view as you neared. you saw the familiar red and blue hero situated on the rooftop, his back to you as you set your feet down on the floor. immediately, he turned around, as though you had made all the sound in the world. only mildly perturbed, you rolled your eyes. "is that one of your little powers? being able to tell when i'm here?"

standing up to look at you, he crossed his arms over his chest. "you're 30 minutes late," spider-man said annoyedly, making you sigh exaggeratedly, walking towards him. one of your gloved hands came to flick his arm as you passed him.

"you're such a sourpuss. i wasn't aware that you were so strict about our meetings." squatting down to avoid detection, you gazed at the apartment building. he was practically radiating warmth, for as he sat next to you, you felt his warmth going off of him in waves. having powers must've made him similar to a furnace. throwing a quick look at him, you managed a smirk and added, "i didn't know you were so desperate to see me."

he scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief. "jesus, not everything is about you, you know," he grumbled, "i needed you here on time so that we could talk about that information you gave me yesterday."

"right," you drawled, "the shit about the stab masks and the roommates. i was gonna ask one of the mafias i've worked with if they knew anything about that." you had told him what had happened after you had called the police to laura crane's body. you had followed the perpetrator after recognizing his backpack, and found him walking into his dorm room (which was at your college, another detail that truly made you think about whether you should just stop going to classes). he was killed right after you had left him, unwilling to call the police for obvious reasons, but you wanted to keep an eye on him. and while it wasn't your m.o, you might have killed him.

but spider-man didn't know that.

"i don't think there's only one killer. and as it's shown in the past, there's almost always two," spider-man said thoughtfully, eyes focused on the window view the both of you had into tara and sam's kitchen. unbeknownst to you, spider-man was also adamant on watching their apartment for another reason; quinn was in there. ethan wanted to keep an eye on his sister and protect her as much as he could, because he knew that being friends with the woodsboro survivors put her in as much danger as them.

you scoffed. "well, that's obvious. being that codependent on someone else has got to make you a sociopathic murderer. placing that much trust on another that you murder together.. that's collateral damage. they're practically bound for failure."

spider-man sent you a look (or as much of a look as he could with his mask covering his entire face). "i bet you have tons of friends with that mindset, kitty."

you rolled your eyes at his words. "thanks, spider, you're such a wonderful person to be around while we stake out this killer," you said dryly, letting out a huff.

"trust me," spider-man chuckled in disbelief, "the fact that i'm stuck with a criminal with more of an attitude problem than anyone i've ever met doesn't exactly make me thrilled."

you let out a joyless laugh. who was he to even talk to you like that? you weren't going to let some baby-man with powers talk about you as though you were nothing. "you can do this shit alone then, spider." you stood up, making him stand up alongside you. an accusatory finger poked at his chest. "if you can't deal with my attitude—"

"i'm surprised anyone can," spider-man seethed, walking closer to you.

you clenched your jaw, fists clenching as you stopped yourself from throwing a punch. "all that stuff about asking the mafia, you—"

spider-man's head turning to his left as he murmured a small, "shut up." his head turned around him frantically, as though he was suddenly searching for something. he felt that familiar chill run through his entire nervous system, and yet he found himself running a blank. nothing was happening; nothing he could see, at least.

"i won't, actually! you can kiss that plan goodbye if you keep being such a fucking—" spider-man grabbed your arm, his hold not tight, but firm enough to cut your words off.

"something is happening right now. and i don't know what it is." he seemed panicked as he spoke, as though everything was running on overdrive. usually he knew exactly what was happening, but he didn't know what this time. he couldn't see anything huge happening around him, but he knew something was going on. something in the apartment.

you looked at the apartment, squinting when you saw tara and her friends laughing over god knows what. turning back to the hero, you swallowed your pride down for once and forced out a, "take me to where you think it's happening."

a beat. he was studying your face, trying to see if you were serious, if you were actually willing to help him despite your interrupted argument. wordlessly, he put his hand around your waist and pulled you to him, throwing a web towards tara and sam's apartment.

a scream left mindy's lips when she ran into the bathroom, finding the body of one of quinn's hook-ups in the tub, stabbed repeatedly with his blood splattered all around him. "oh, fuck, that guy's dead!" mindy cried out, gripping her sliced arm tightly before she turned back to the bathroom entrance, screaming at the sight of the murderer right at the door.

they took a step towards her, knife glinting in their hand before you kicked him in the stomach, kicking him against the wall. your clawed hand came down to scratch his chest, your brows furrowing when your hand met a bulletproof vest rather than skin. the murderer swung his knife at you, only slicing the base of your neck as you quickly dodged. you punched their face and kicked them back further against the wall, using one of your knives to stab their chest, only praying it made it past their bulletproof vest. you then ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

"who the fuck are you?!" mindy screamed, taking in your get up and mask, eyes widening in recognition. "you're that criminal—"

"stop talking and get into the room! take this," you put one of your throwing knives in her hand and turned to sam, who was pulling mindy into the bedroom and sending you a confused look. shoving them both into the bathroom, you helped them barricade the door before the killer came close, your back against the door as you kept the dresser against it.

"who is this?!" anika yelled, practically spilling her guts all over the bed.

"maybe don't ask questions while your intestines are threatening to come out!" you yelled, still holding the door shut.

"say something more positive!" anika screamed in response, mindy coming next to her to apply more pressure to her huge wound.

you looked at sam, who was yelling at the neighbor across the alleyway, before she looked up, her face laced with even more confusion. "about time!" she yelled at the hero, who crawled down the wall as he threw a web at the roof's ledge and held onto the other end of it.

"we're gonna get you across!" spider-man said reassuringly, offering a hand out for sam, who immediately took it. he pulled her close as he brought her across and into the other window into the arms of the neighbor before he went to the other window again, peeking in. "oh, hey!" he said lightly, trying not to show his panic.

"hi. can you help?!" mindy asked harshly, helping anika stand up and bringing her to the hero.

"oh, you don't look great!" he shot some webbing into his hand and places anika's hand more into her wound before wrapping her hand and her wound, keeping the pressure. "keep pressing down," he said, carefully putting his arm around her to bring her to the other side. "you doing okay there, kitty?" he asked behind his shoulder at you, making you groan in frustration.

"just fantastic!"

"okay, good!" with that, he swung out the window, anika screaming in her wake. he brought her to the neighbor's window, carefully putting her down before he went back for mindy.

the door behind you suddenly lurched forward, as though the killer had gained twice the strength than they originally had. the sudden strength pushed you far enough away from the door for it to open, the killer quick as they shoved it wider. you hand flew to your gun, ready to shoot despite the vest you knew they were wearing. behind you, mindy was already being brought to the other window, leaving you alone with the killer, who tilted their head at you. they took the knife you had stabbed into them and threw it back at you, making you dodge it quickly, shooting a shot at their leg.

they didn't fall. instead, they swung at you, cutting your side as you moved back. you groaned at the sudden pain, hand coming down to hold it tightly as warm liquid began to seep through your fingers. they managed to cut in the one area that wasn't protected by some of your armor. and while it was only a slice, they cut deep. they were angry; it was evident in their sudden frantic movements. they wanted you dead.

they lunged at you, making you move away from the window and shoot at them again, your shots to their chest doing nothing. "i fucking hate this," you grumbled, putting your gun back into your side before you unsheathed your claws and swung at his dominant arm, scratching it and hearing them groan in pain.

the sound was muffled, but they sounded like a man.

you kicked them, trying to kick them out of the window, only for them to grab the windows edges and lunge at you again, making you move swiftly out of the way and making them hit the dresser harshly.

a thwip sent a web towards their hand, and another sent one to their leg, sticking them there. spider-man swung in next to you, taking in the cut on your neck and the blood dripping from your hand. "you have to get out of here," he stated, grabbing your hand and lifting it to use a web to bandage your wound quickly.

"i'll be fine," you seethed, ignoring the pain, "remove his mask, we need to catch him."

"you're not going to be fine, i'm getting you out of here," his hands came down around your waist despite your protests, your want to remove the killers mask strong as you tried to wriggle your way out. "stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you!" the hero snapped, already throwing a web out the window and pulling the both of you away from the apartment.

he laid you down on the rooftop of the building, giving you a quick once over before he went back to the apartment, leaving you alone. you hated to admit it, but the amount of blood you were losing from both your wounds was making you dizzy.

spider-man landed back inside the apartment, letting out a groan of frustration at the sight of the cut webs and the lack of a killer. turning to the neighbor's apartment, he swung over, landing in their kitchen casually. "help is on the way. in the meantime stay in here," he looked at all of them strewn throughout the apartment, all sporting some type of wound. the eyes of his mask narrowed when he noticed a few people were missing. tara and chad were gone, but most importantly, quinn was gone too. "was anyone left behind?" he asked sam, trying to keep a relatively calm front.

"tara and chad were locked out, and our roommate, quinn.." sam swallowed thickly, her eyes fogged over as she tried not to think too hard about it.

from beneath the mask, ethan's eyes began to blur over with tears out of worry, the lack of response making him want to shake sam and demand answers. demand where his sister is, cry out that they should've done more, that it was him under the mask, that he needed to know if she made it. "did," he exhaled shakily, makiing sam look at him in interest, "did she die?"

"she didn't make it," sam said with a heavy exhale. "ghostface got to her before we could stop them."

ethan's jaw clenched as his eyes began to well up with more tears that he couldn't wipe away. it felt like sensory overload; he could hear anika's labored breathing and mindy's reassurance from the living room, smell the smell of pennies from everyone's blood, feel every fiber of his suit sticking to his skin. he was suddenly aware of how small the apartment felt, how the ceiling seemed to come closer and closer to his head and how the walls seemed too reachable.

he had to get out.

"thank you. and tell your friend thank you too," sam said, breaking his cloud of sadness briefly.

his friend. you were still up there, bleeding all over the roof.

"i have to go. i'm.. i'm sorry about your roommate." he turned to the others in a silent farewell, before turning back to sam. "we'll be doing patrols around your guys' apartment." and with that, he swung out the window and back to you, pulling his mask over half his face to try and regain his breath.

"he was gone, wasn't he?" you asked, your voice monotone as you sat with your hand over your wound. you looked at him, your eyes unreadable as you took in how stressed he looked. he was drinking in air as though he had been drowning, and if you looked closely, you saw tearstains on his cheeks. his head had fallen back and his face was tilted up to the sky, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. rather than question it, you knew it wasn't your place.

ethan, while he wanted to desperately to cry and scream for the death of his sister, only tried to calm himself. he could feel anger thrumming through his veins, and most of all, he felt that same pain he felt when richie died. as though a part of him had died too.

he realized then that the panic he had felt from his senses was most likely the feeling of his older sister dying in the arms of a killer. he felt her attack.

"he was." the hero answered, taking in one more deep breath and exhaling slowly. he turned to you and moved to help you stand up. instinctively, his arm cam around your waist, allowing you to use him like a crutch. "we have to get you help," he murmured, turning towards the direction of the hospital.

"you and i both know that we can't go to the hospital," you muttered, looking at him. his mask was still pulled over half of his face, leaving the upper half of his face a mystery to you. but you could see the lower half, and you stopped the urge to roll your eyes at your conclusion.

of course, new york's spider-man was a pretty boy.

"fine, then. we're going to your place."

yeah, he was pretty. pretty stupid.

"are you serious?" you managed a laugh that quickly died due to the pain that shot up your chest. "no. why can't we go to your place?"

"because my roommate has a room right next to me and the walls are so thin that he can hear everything i do," he responded dryly, looking down at you. "you don't have to remove your mask. i won't do it either, and.. you can put away any photos you have in your apartment. deal?"

you stared at him, weighing the other options in your head before groaning. "fine," you grumbled in annoyance, "but i better not see you making any friendly visits any time soon. i'm not the hospitable type."

"'m not gonna make any visits, kitty. promise."

spider-man pushed your window open, helping you enter before he closed it shut behind you both. the sound of your two cats, bitters and junie, welcomed you home as per usual, their meows relaxing you as you managed a small smile their way. surprisingly enough, they rubbed themselves on the hero's leg as they made their way towards you.

"very on brand of you to be a cat lady," he hummed, making you send him a look as you reached down to pet them briefly. "am i wrong? you're black cat and you have black cat. and a white one. for all i know you could have more in here."

"do you want to meet my cats or help me stop losing blood?" you asked snarkily, making him turn to you, the eyes of his mask widening.

"oh, right. you're hurt."

"thanks for your concern," you responded dryly, feeling him fix his arm around your waist. "bathroom's down that hall to the left."

your weight seemed like nothing to him as he led you to your bathroom, sitting you down on your closed toilet. he threw open your cupboards, searching for your first aid and finding it. he managed a small triumphant smile as he took it out, closing the cupboard and sitting to your right.

"you know what you're doing, right?" you asked warily, staring at him as he brought out your suture kit. "scandalous," you couldn't help but comment as he pulled his gloves off, making him send you a look.

"stop staring at my hands."

"i'm staring at the needle you're going to stab me repeatedly with, not your hands," you stated, rolling your eyes. "your hands are nice too though, spider." you chuckled at his frustrated sigh, eyes on him as he stood up to wash his hands. "you didn't answer my question."

rushing water filled your ears as he washed his hands diligently. he seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should answer your question, but honestly, you were just trying to make the whole situation less awkward. you couldn't care less whether he had done it before or not; what mattered was that he could suture up your wound.

"i think it was the fifth time i was in a fight?" he began, eyes set on his hands as he dried them off on a nearby towel. "i was still.. new to all of this, i guess. caught this gang ready to beat this poor kid up— he was like, 13 at the most, and they were trying to get back at his older brother. 'course i had to help him." he moved back to your side, sitting down comfortably and taking the suture kit. "i was able to get most of 'em out of the way. but one snuck up on me. my senses made me get out of the way on time, but i got this huge cut on my stomach. another one on my side from his buddy." he carefully cut the webs on your side, looking up at you for permission. "i'm gonna have to cut your suit. may i?"

you nodded quickly. "i have more, just.. keep talking."

"right." he cut the rest of the webbing, including the cloth of your suit, reveling the entirety of your wound. "i spent that night suturing up my own cut with a needle and thread. i can heal pretty quickly but if i were to just bleed everywhere my roommate would notice." he then took a cloth and rubbing alcohol and gently cleaned around your cut. "hurt like a bitch, though."

"well, duh." you watched him pull out all the thread and take the forceps to bring the needle out. he brought it closer to your skin, and you took deep breaths.

"ready?"

"just get it over with." you groaned in pain when the needle entered your skin, the thread pulling through quickly after it. the pain was horrible, but soon enough he was tying the knot and beginning the next one. you were biting down harshly on your lip, trying not to cry out from the pain as you felt the next one enter. your mind was so focused on the needle continuously entering your skin that you didn't even hear spider-man talk to you.

"your apartment is nice," he said softly, only glancing up at you before he focused back on the task at hand. "you must be loaded from all the stealing 'n stuff."

his hands were a bit rough, most likely from training and from superhero duties. but the way he touched you, regardless of how harsh your personality was; it was as though he was scared he'd break you. as though he was watching his strength as he poked the needle through your skin and pulled, careful not to hurt you as much as he already was.

he didn't know why he was being so gentle, why he was watching how he was touching you. maybe he felt guilty for allowing you to be the one to go into the apartment. maybe he wanted to make up for the wounds he felt like he indirectly caused you. ethan didn't know.

"yeah," you forced out through gritted teeth, trying to steady your breathing. he was trying to distract you, trying to keep you talking about whatever he was asking you rather than having you focus solely on the thread moving through your skin.

but unbeknownst to you, ethan was asking you questions not only to distract you, but to distract himself as well. he was still reeling from the death of his sister, but he had compartmentalized it all before he had given himself the chance to fully cope. he hadn't fully cried yet, nor had he given himself time to grieve. he didn't know when he could; it felt like he had no time to grieve for her. "the day we first met, after i caught you—"

"you didn't catch me."

"after i almost caught you while you ran away from the museum," another stab, another stab, another knot. "why did you bring that painting back there? like," his lips twitched downwards, "you didn't even steal anything from the museum, which is weird considering you're a thief and probably a klepto who would love to have a collection of paintings in her really nice apartment—"

"i put it back where it came from." you avoided his gaze as you focused on the bathroom floor as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. "the rich people i stole it from hired some random criminals to steal it first," you explained, "so i just put it back. they don't deserve to keep that piece of art to themselves when the painter made it for everyone to enjoy."

he looked up at you after he finished tying another knot, taking in your features. how you seemed a million miles away despite being right in front of him, and how you had just admitted that one of your crimes had more meaning behind it than just a simple burglary. and you looked.. almost embarrassed to say it. as though you had never admitted it out loud before.

"the people you steal from are usually well off."

you turned your head to look at him, and this time it was his turn to focus on something else. his eyes were set on his stitches. "old money, new money, just people who are incredibly wealthy."

"have you been studying me, spider?" you asked teasingly, making his cheeks (or what you could see of it) burn red.

"no. i mean—" he stammered, groaning when he heard you chuckle softly. "i had to! i mean, i've been trying to keep track of the usual criminals in the city and you were obviously on that list so.. yeah!"

"so you were studying me." you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

"okay! you're done." he put a bandage around the suture to finish it off, throwing away the used needle and thread. he began to clean up quickly, shoving the suture kit into the first aid box. but as his eyes looked back at you, he paused his embarrassed antics. he stared as you stood up, ready to change your clothes, before he stopped you. "wait."

you looked at him in confusion as he took out a bandage and ran a cloth under water. he moved closer to you, and you saw him visibly gulp from where his mask was pulled up. "your neck," he murmured, and you raised a brow, but for once stayed quiet. the warm cloth met the base of your neck, rubbing away the dried blood from the cut that you forget was even there. water dripped down your skin and melted into your suit, but you were too preoccupied with looking at how his tongue poked at his cheek when he was focused.

he wiped away the rest of the blood and used a dry towel to pat it down dry before taking the bandage. his fingernails grazed your skin ever so lightly as he placed the bandage over your cut, his adam's apple bobbing when he saw your eyes set on his face through his peripherals. he could smell your lavender perfume from where he stood, pressing the bandage down into your skin, warming the skin with the heat of his palm. "done," he breathed, eyes looking back at you.

and suddenly, his hands fell at his sides as he focused on cleaning up again.

"what was that?" you couldn't help but ask, but he only shrugged in response.

"don't think about me too much, kitty."

"i should say the same to you," you said blankly, brows furrowing as you watched him clean up as though he hadn't just helped you patch up all your injuries.

you moved past him, making your way into your room and shutting the door behind you. you hid the photo of you and your father under some papers before unzipping your suit and pulling it off of you. the fabric moved over your wound, but you were careful enough that it add onto the pain. you put on a shirt and some shorts before walking out to your living room.

you bit back a comment when you saw the hero sitting criss-crossed on your living room floor with bitters on his lap and your white cat, junie, nudging herself under his hand as she purred. a genuine smile was on his face; he had a habit of pulling his lip under his teeth when he smiled.

"how're you feeling? you asked nonchalantly, making him look up towards you. you felt his eyes on you as you took out two glasses and poured water into both.

"fine, i guess."

"stop lying," you said over your shoulder, taking the two glasses and walking towards him. you held one glass out to him, looking at him pointedly. "i saw you after you went to check on them. something happened."

you were onto him. that was all ethan thought as he took the glass of water from your hand and looked down at your cats. your eyes were practically burning into his head as you waited for him to answer. you thought it was right; you gave him truth, now he should give you some in return. hell, you let him into your home.

taking a deep breath, he calmed down his rapidly beating heart. "i knew one of them, and they didn't make it. that's all." you could see him bite down on his lip as though he was stopping it from quivering, his eyes dead set on your cats despite your eye contact.

you didn't say anything for a minute, letting him relish in the quiet before you began talking again. "we'll find out who attacked them." no 'i'm sorry.' no condolences, because you were someone who hated hearing it from others. especially when your father died; mafia groups sent their condolences, sent their 'i'm sorrys' to the door of your past house as though they hadn't wanted him dead for years. you didn't like hearing it and your didn't like saying it.

the hero nodded, his brows coming down to furrow together. "we will." he stated. you had made a deal with him the night before, but that didn't truly feel like a deal. this one did; it walked a thin line between a deal and a promise.

ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— i know i literally posted yesterday but i'm excited about this series so here! thank you so much for reading xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch

#scream 6 imagines #scream 6 smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x y/n #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #ethan landry fanfiction #to fault a net—!#scream 6 imagine #scream vi imagine #scream vi smut #scream vi imagines

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idealspawn · 1 month

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hey..... i must say. this has been the best week of my life. and im filled with utter joy. ive had like a.. rebirth? every once in a while i feel like im born again. the transition is really emotional but they are moreso growing pains than destructive pains. im suddenly surrounded by so many great people and possibilities and i finally feel like life is rewarding me, treating me the way i should be treated. in a way im reluctant to owe it to "faith" and see myself as a passive subject rather than an active agent in this but in a way i think i am powerless in some factors regarding this change. next month its my debut in like a culture (?) newspaper! at least they said they are very interested in my analysis but i havent heard back yet about the second version i sent them. i wrote my favourite poem ive ever written. and ive seen so many movies recently that have served as this transitional border. like as this extremely active sphere of both "death" but also birth. like metaphorically. ive been so vulnerable and i love it. ive cried my eyes out like i havent in such a long time and done like... meta analyses about my underlying beliefs to bring change and new energy into my life. you see.. i get really stuck on like.. nominal labels. at first they describe me but it tends to go unnoticed when it no longer fits or serves me and im only living a certain way just because of this nominal structure. but all these nominal structures are made for us. not that we are made to fit them. ive re-evaluated things now.. also out of nowhere people have been reaching out to me. maybe it truly does show up in my energy when im more open. like that it attracts other open, honest, vulnerable people. ive met so many new people and truly felt seen. this is a big thing for me. for the longest time ive struggled to enjoy time with people because ive struggled to find people who i share some kinds of values. i like diverse people but for example people who are open to explore communication on an emotional and relational level rather than only informational. thats important to me. ive been more confident in sharing my opinions too:) and participating in class and in life. going to places where i know id feel a bit uncomfortable and end up surprised. going to places alone is massive for me. it opens me up to new people and experiences because i simply dont have a choice to close myself off with friends im already close with. a woman came to talk to me after a lecture. she said she had been watching how i take notes in class (i write really fast.. i tend to transcribe literally everything the professor says). she said she has studied palaeography and asked to see my notes to analyse my handwriting :) she said its very unusual for people to still write in cursive if they write with the pen very much pointed upwards, however i manage to do so :D. it really made me want to also just reach out to people... like whenever and for whatever reason. and ive noticed people actually like talking to you when youre authentic and awkward. ive restricted my communication with people SO MUCH only due to the fact that i feel like i might not be insanely flawless in my self-expression. the nature too. the season is such that i see birth and death all around me. and its very refreshing. i like seeing change and being reminded of it constantly. it feels liberating. its a season that many people dislike in my country but im in love. i love people. i love physical touch. i love eye contact. i love emotions. i love ideas. i love agency in breaking boundaries. i love feeling seen and important and useful. i love authenticity and vulnerability.

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sukiglycerin · 3 years

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call it fate (or a christmas miracle) || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: bodyguard!katsuki bakugou x earthbending quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: bodyguard!au, fluff, some angst, fake dating, aNd thEre wAs OnE bEd

* words: 10.3k (help)

* warnings: swearing bc bakugou, too much backstory, idk what bodyguards even do, there’s a fight scene (in a similar lieu to the sports festival arc), hunter x hunter? no this is tsundere x tsundere, i want to hug bakugou, yes i imagine mr. tanaka to be the tanaka from kuroshitsuji, christmas is a very minor aspect of the story (but the title was too good to resist)

* original request from @apexqueenie: Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh can I get a Bodygaurd Bakuboi x bratty reader who don’t like to be watched like a hawk cuz she wants to do fun things pretty please? // and from anonymous: if it's ok, can I request Bakugou with a reader who has a quirk like earth bending please? // and from @killkurzyackerman: ÒWÓ UR REQS ARE OPEN can u do a bakubabe with like lil sassy bad bitch vibe reader bc ive seen a lot of fics that sorta like softie or angel type and no offense theyre great but ya know sumthn diff this time please

* a/n: this is a very long fic, to say the least. i combined these three requests! though reader’s quirk doesn’t appear often, it conveys my thoughts on how bakugou would go about with that quirk. moreover, i hope this reader is badass? i realize that that characterization is quite hard for me. so, i hope you don’t see reader as super soft! i made them fight back against bakugou (literally, too) and kinda bratty hehe. i got to explore a lot of new things with this fic, so i hope they reach you well. this is a repost because it originally did not show up in the tags!

* synopsis: things had gotten boring with bakugou as your bodyguard. it was only until an interesting proposal by the man that things would change. well, maybe a little too much would change...

you, to be quite simple and honest, were getting tired of katsuki bakugou. he'd been your bodyguard for years (years! much longer than any other you'd hired!) and he was getting boring. dull. plain. any synonymous word would fit. he was boring like a 24 hour session of watching paint dry, monotone like a professor’s droning that never failed to put you to sleep. (perhaps he was even more spiritless than professor sato at the academy. he caught you sleeping no less than thirteen times in his class. the number didn’t even account for the times he didn’t catch you.)

to the untrained eye, katsuki bakugou is vibrant. he's aggressive, unruly, and ruggedly charming (somehow). he's a wonder in a suit-and-tie and the epitome of an oxymoron with his harsh words, rough hands, and crisp suit. it was that very reason you’d hired him; his personality excited you. it seemed unpredictable and it was a challenge.

like all other challenges, bakugou was not impossible. once the challenge was overcome, time flow was stagnant; you watched the ticking of a clock as the day passed by you. you’d gotten used to him and he’d gotten used to you. these days, he watched you like a hawk. you could never slip past those sharp eyes anymore, no matter what you did. he was not fazed by any of your antics (ticked off mildly, sure, but he could live with it).

“leave me alooooone,” you whined for the fourth time in an hour as you exited a mall. bakugou's hands were full of shopping bags filled with everything from clothing to the latest technological invention. you weren’t sure how he was supposed to protect you in that condition. though, to be candid - in the first place, you didn’t need protection. you attended a private institution designed to maximize the use of your quirk as a child and graduated with absolutely flying colors. on top, you’d taken various martial arts outside of school. you didn’t know why your parents were still concerned about your wellbeing. you handled it fine. around 99.9% of the time, you could easily beat your bodyguard in a fair fight. it was a regular practice for you; so common that there was a reward if a bodyguard could last longer than six months working for you. not that any of them liked to be called bodyguards.

“sweetheart, i would if i could,” bakugou gritted through his teeth. “pay’s too good to- goddamn, what did you even buy?” he’d stopped behind you to adjust his grip on one of the bags.

you hummed pleasantly, continuing at your same, leisurely pace. his question was a rhetoric; he watched you buy everything with your black credit card. you watched as a car pulled up in front of you.

“there’s our ride,” you said, brushing bakugou’s shoulder as you stepped into the car. he grunted in response, loading the car with your purchases.

“fight me with your quirk when we get home,” you said during the ride. “you have, what, a boom boom quirk?”

he made a noise in his throat, voice hard. “my quirk’s explosions. nitroglycerin.”

“dangerous,” you said through a smile. he’d never used his quirk around you, but you were already starting to see possibilities of strategies you could use.

“so says the master earthbender,” he retorted sarcastically.

you clicked your tongue. “we’ll see who wins in the fight, explodo-boy.”

“finally brave enough to challenge me, eh?"

“i was always this brave.”

“oh, give it up already, bakugou!” you directed another wall of rocky terrain toward bakugou, who blew up the land and sent rocks flying. his stance was hunched slightly, forehead matted with sweat. the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, coat long abandoned on the rugged terrain.

“tired already?” he snarled. he put his hands together, preparing for a bigger explosion. you didn’t let him have this opportunity, slinging a large rock to absorb the impact of the explosion. he dodged swiftly, to your disappointment, but his attack seemed to be subdued.

you used his delayed reaction time to try to trap him with terrain under his feet, but he was somehow a step ahead of you. you heard a popping noise; bakugou was propelled through the air, your rocks blasted already and a cloud of dust forming. you cussed under your breath, already moving yourself away from his estimated landing spot that was too close to you.

he sent crackling explosions to the bottoms of your feet, but you easily dodged them. you created a temporary platform of elevated ground to protect yourself from the small explosions, jumping off it and rolling away. he was already aiming a larger blast toward you, presumably expecting your escape route. you figured it’d be a directed blast to pierce through a wall. you knew that the explosion would be unavoidable. to counter, you created a line of walls resembling dominos. they acted as stairsteps; you quickly ran up to the highest you could conjure in the short time you had before bakugou hit them. you grabbed the closest piece of rock that you could and leapt as bakugou’s blast made contact with your steps, chucking the rock at him and aiming to kick him when you landed. you knew he had no power to counter, being unable to react quickly due to the powerful nature of the blast he’d conjured.

you were about to win when the door to the training facility opened. you froze, literally, in midair and frowned, turning to look at the intruder.

“fighting, young-?” one of the butlers, tanaka, said. he was an elderly man with a gentle voice, but his eyes always seemed to glint with a clandestine humour in it.

“you can call me by my first name. please put me down, tanaka,” you said, no malice in your voice. he nodded, and you softly landed on your feet next to bakugou. you’d known tanaka for far too long for him to use honorifics with you. he’d practically raised you as a child.

“you haven’t fought in a while,” tanaka commented. he conjured a water bottle (you never knew how he had the right things for the right occasions) and walked toward you.

you made a noise of acknowledgement. “and it seems i was just about to win.”

he smiled tenderly. “i’m sure.” he handed you the water bottle, which upon further inspection, you saw was ice cold.

“thank you,” you said, gingerly accepting the beverage. the water flowed soothingly down your throat, easing the aching that had formed due to all the dust you’d kicked up in the fight.

“mr. bakugou?” tanaka asked, offering another water bottle (seriously, where did he get that?).

“thanks,” bakugou took the bottle. he drank feverishly, quickly finishing the bottle in what must’ve been two seconds flat. so undignified.

“y/n, you have an appointment in 15 minutes with-” tanaka said as you capped your water bottle.

“oh, yeah,” you said, waving off the matter. “i got it.”

you brushed off the dust on your clothes and started toward the exit. bakugou was quick to follow you, nodding politely to tanaka.

bakugou stood outside the door during the meeting you had with your father. you were not a minute too late or too early when you stepped into your father’s office, freshened up and dressed in clean attire, the dusty clothing from your fight with bakugou long discarded. the smell of leather and mint enveloped you, reminding you of the days you’d play in your father’s office in your youth. the room was always dim, the light on your father’s desk being the brightest object in the vicinity when the curtains were pulled down. when you were younger, you liked to pretend the room was made of chocolate, as the color was so dominant on the interior. your father was not pleased to find five-year-old you trying to bite the corner of his desk, to say the least.

the sight of his office was ever-so familiar to you, and once held a feeling of endearment in your heart. that was then; now, you only ever entered the room for a business-related matter. your face was blank, lips held in a thin line - you anticipated the topic of the meeting since your father first scheduled it a week ago. it, quite frankly, was inevitable; you could be neither opposed nor favorably disposed to it.

“i’ve found a compatible match for you, y/n.” your father sat at his desk, eyes intensely trained on you. “they’re from a well-off family with a strong quirk.”

compatible. it didn’t mean they got along with you or would be a good partner; no, it meant that they matched the superficial criteria set by your family.

“yes, father,” you said indifferently. he nodded, as if already expecting the answer.

“you’ll meet them soon. we’re arranging the date,” he folded his hands on the desk. “tanaka will alert you of it when it’s finalized. that is all.”

you nodded, taking your cue to leave. giving the room one last glance, you started to push the door open, then paused. door halfway open, allowing outside light to stream into the dark room, you looked back at your father. it was now or never to ask, you guessed.

“father… we wouldn’t happen to be having a family gathering anytime soon, would we? for new years or anything...” you hadn’t had any in the recent years, but you’d figured you’d ask. the scent of homemade food and the comforting chatter of the gatherings always made your heart swell.

he grunted, not looking up from the papers he shuffled around in his hands. “no.”

“ah. okay,” you said, sighing quietly. you knew better than to get your hopes up for such things. you turned back to the light, where bakugou was awaiting you, and shut the door behind you with a thud.

you walked in silence.

“so, no plans for the holidays?” bakugou asked bluntly.

“eavesdropping, i see,” you deadpanned.

“shouldn’t’ve had the conversation in front of the whole damn world.”

you rolled your eyes. “what about it?” you asked. “my lack of plans, i mean.”

“well-” he coughed awkwardly into his sleeve, averting his eyes. “that old hag- my, uh, mom, somehow got under the impression that i’m no longer… single. probably because of my profession - she thinks it’s ridden with scandals like a damn drama - but, uh… she’s expecting me to bring… company home for our christmas dinner…. and i can’t ask any of my friends, ‘cause she knows them… i wouldn’t damn ask you if i had no other option…”

“thanks,” you interjected. you held your tongue from making a comment about how little friends he probably had. “anyway, why don’t you tell her no?”

he slouched. “have you met her?” he grumbled. “the hag won’t listen to me. trust me, i would’ve, but… you can’t refuse her, once her mind is set on something… she’s too stubborn for her damn good.”

“like you,” you remarked, earning a small shove from the man.

“pl-” he choked, “pl - ah, fuck - please can you go to the dinner with me? it’s just for a night and morning, i need you to fake being my date. i can tell her we broke up later or whatever, i just really need…”

your lip curled. a desperate bakugou was a rare sight, and you wanted to relish in it for as long as you could. you feigned further consideration.

“but there’s so much i would rather be doing…” you whined. it was a lie. all you wanted was some variation in your life; a dinner didn't sound too bad. perhaps there was a dark secret within the bakugou family you could exploit.

“like what, wasting money?” bakugou muttered bitterly under his breath. you shot him a dirty look.

“fine, please?” he asked again. “there’ll be some damn good food… and, uh…” you tapped your foot with false impatience.

he cussed under his breath. “i’ll do whatever you want, damnit, just go with me! please!”

you cocked an eyebrow. “whatever i want?”

“yes, for a day,” he groused. “only a day.”

“alright!” you pumped your fist up. your father’s business training came in handy sometimes. “when’s the dinner?”

“this weekend,” bakugou said. “we also need to, uh, figure out how to act more… coupley.”

“...right,” you said. business class had not prepared you for that. “how the fuck do we do that?”

as it turned out, you two were not the best pair to fake a relationship. neither of you had actually been in a relationship prior to this. you didn’t really have time to date on top of your studies and such; you didn’t need to, anyway, because all of the people who were romantically interested in you bored you. their personality traits either consisted of rich or doormat. as for bakugou - well, he was bakugou. you couldn’t see anyone wanting to date that brute.

“i’ll pay,” you said upon entering a cafe. it was a big cafe, nestled in the midst of an even bigger mall. your tone was firm; there’d be no way bakugou would be paying. you looked up at the menu and said to him, “the usual?”

he was silent for a moment, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah, sure. the usual.” weird.

you ordered yourself a drink and bakugou his usual order, a decaf iced caramel macchiato with light ice. he looked at you with a strange emotion on his face when you handed him his drink.you practically shoved it in his hands while he was too starstruck about god-knows-what.

the two of you settled at a booth (“table,” bakugou had argued. you eventually won the debate).

“so… trivia about each other, right?” you asked. “i guess we’ve got to get to know each other more.” he nodded. “well, first, you need to stop being so quiet. right now, you’re not my bodyguard or anything. we’re, uh…. dating. we’re partners. datemates. lovers.”

he choked on his drink at the word “lovers.” he sputtered, then gained composure. “yeah.”

“okay, i need to you to be more casual.”

“tch, who said i’m not casual right now?!” there it was; this was the bakugou you’d known when you first met him. he was awkward and amateur-ish, stumbling on his words and failing miserably at being polite. it was a fond memory. overtime, he’d obviously polished himself up (but only in the presence of you and your family).

“that’s more like it,” you said.

“tch.” he sipped his coffee, unrelenting to admit that you’d won.

“well, let’s cover basic facts. your birthday is april 20 and you like spicy food.”

he coughed again, setting his drink down. “yeah.”

“are you okay? d’you need water, or something? are the lights in here too bright?”

he shook his head, eyes still dazed with a certain unclarity. “‘m fine, idiot.”

you weren’t convinced. “...whatever you say.”

he took another sip, closing his eyes then continuing as normal. normal, in the standards of bakugou, of course. “i-i think i know damn well enough about you. don’t need to prove shit,” he grumbled the last bit.

“a little bit too well,” you muttered saltily. “well, this is a learning experience for me, take it or leave it. we need to get along at the dinner, don’t we?” you drummed your fingers on the table, eyes darting around at the cafe. the decor was pretty.

he made a grievance under his breath, but nodded. “there’s my dad and my mom - the old hag - and me. i’m an only child.” figures. he continued, “they both work in fashion… yeah… my dad’s more quiet than my mom, she’s loud… apparently we’re a lot alike - don’t comment - but yeah, she’s my mom. they live in shizuoka, and it’ll be just them at the dinner. you’ll need to stay overnight...”

“seems… intimate,” you commented offhandedly.

he whistled. “you think?”

the gears in your head turned as you stared into the space over bakugou's shoulder at a large poster of some featured drink. it was all small talk to you, but you saw this meeting for what it was. an opportunity. it was your break from the uniform days plaguing you for the past week's - he wouldn’t need to watch over you, now your fake lover. lovers were equal.

love - what was love? you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. feigned or not, it was different. couples were moody, from what you could gather. one day they’d be hanging off each other’s limbs, and the next, they were bickering their heads off. it sounded fun, to be a couple with bakugou rather than his employer. you could say goodbye to normalcy and tedium.

you felt your lips turn into a smile as a plan developed in your mind, tapping the table at an increasingly faster tempo. who cared about the dinner? you were a fake couple! you could break away from the norm and find the things that made bakugou tick. you could gain a one-up over him. you could pick his personality apart piece by piece until it broke the monotony of daily life. you watched bakugou’s expression grow puzzled and frustrated. you pretended to be deep in thought, aware that bakugou was opening his mouth to make a snarky comment presumably about how the smile on your face was getting unnerving to him.

you didn’t let him speak, instead cupping your face in your hands and leaning in towards him. “how do you think we should become more intimate, kat-su-ki?”

you think you got soft over the years. when you first met bakugou, he was a rough little thing. being the same age as you, he was far less qualified compared to the other candidates to be your bodyguard. he looked out of place in his suit identical to everyone else. call it fate, or what you will, beckoning you towards him. when you first met him, you could’ve never imagined how far into the future you’d be stuck with the boy. all of the bodyguards you’d hired prior to bakugou’s appearance in your life didn’t last long. it wasn’t their fault; no, no, they were very competent. extremely competent - to the point it was boring, scrutinized under their meticulous gaze. you could do absolutely nothing under their watch, and where was the fun in that?

so, long story short, you hired bakugou for his incompetence. you’d low expectations for how long he’d last. you were surprised he could even put on a tie properly. from the way his hair spiked in every which way (“undignified!” your father had complained to you) and how his feet shuffled against the nice, newly polished cherry wood floors (“the scuff marks…”), bakugou was far from the epitome of a bodyguard. he couldn’t sit still and constantly made weird crackling noises (which you later learned were small explosions, not the concerningly incessant crack of his knuckles). the cherry on top to the disaster pie called bakugou, however, was his speech. he was polite, at face value, but also incredibly rough at face value. if you transcribed his words down, they’d be all standard formalities. it was the quirky way in which he presented his words; gritted out like somehow had forced him into this job. actually, scratch that, it was like this job was the be-all or end-all of his life. he was like an extremely tsundere shounen protagonist. he needed to win (“win what?” your father had laughed in disbelief) and be the very best. you'd… appreciate the sentiment more if you were his mentor in becoming a pokemon trainer.

of all the things bakugou was at the time, he was not a stoic old man nor a cold, indifferent boy who looked down on you snottily; he got the job. much to your father’s chagrin, of course. you’re pretty sure he had a backup bodyguard during the first month or so of bakugou’s employment, in case bakugou dropped out mysteriously for any reason.

surprisingly, bakugou was competent, but not infuriatingly so. he had snark, and under any other employer he would’ve been fired in the first week. he did his job, and that was all. it was fun to tick him off, too, and so easy. it was - dare you say it? - cute. you wanted to watch him fall apart and leave, as so many others had. you waited for the day he’d get used to you or vice versa, when you’d wake up with nothing to look forward to. in the end, no one ever stayed with you. you could usually figure that out within the first week of a bodyguard’s services.

these days, you started feeling that way. bakugou was just becoming everyone else you’d ever hired. he was becoming everyone else. for some reason, though, you still clasped onto the thread of hope that maybe he was different, and that led you down a series of events trying to convince yourself he was different.

at the same time, you told yourself he was like everyone else. did you want him to stay or not? you didn’t know anymore. maybe fate would spin something good out of this, or maybe he would. you didn’t want it in your hands anymore.

being flirty was definitely not the best route of plan, but man, it was efficient. what better way to fake being a couple than organically develop that relationship? that was your bullshit reasoning to the logical part of yourself (when it was obviously far from the truth).

yeah, it was definitely not the best plan. you bored of it quite quickly, but couldn’t shake off the lasting feeling of fluttering in your stomach. you supposed it was because it was the most reaction you’d gotten from bakugou in months. you’d never seen him so disgruntled.

he was very, very blushy. you didn’t know how you hadn’t learned of it earlier. his cheeks were dusted strawberry red, matching the hue on the tips of his ears. ah, tsundere bakugou had returned for a short period of time. you wished you could've taken a picture of him.

you tapped the tip of his nose and he hissed at you, cheeks darkening a shade.

“a boop?” he scoffed indignantly in disbelief. “who calls it that? a five year old?” but you could tell that he really enjoyed it on the inside.

“what- what are you playing at, dumbass?” he swatted your hand when you tried to boop him again.

“c’mon, couples need to do coupley things, katsuki,” you cooed. “like overly affectionate pda~”

you didn’t know someone could get so red.

“since when did you call me by my first name?” he grumbled, unable to form any other type of response.

“since we started ‘dating,’” you teased back, realizing that watching bakugou become more and more uncomposed was more fun than you’d expected. he'd never become so open around you; after all, you'd had a strictly professional relationship prior, so bakugou never expressed any hint of a personality other than his behavior when he was first hired. it was a good change, in your eyes.

then, as you did of most things, you bored of it. sure, flustering bakugou was fun because he was so outwardly tsundere, but your attention span was short. he was already starting to recollect himself in record time, face cooling from a startling scarlet to pink and remarks becoming increasingly cohesive.

you're not even sure if he was aware of your gaze resting upon him as you half-assed responses and watched the gears in his head furiously turn. when he got real worked up, he pouted when speaking and occasionally slurred words together. his eyes tended to veer away when he thought of a response and he always got fidgety.

eventually, you stopped teasing him. by this time, the ice in his drink had already melted and you were dangerously close to kissing him on the cheek (it was an impulse thing! you were not catching feelings!).

if there was one thing you learned, it was this: bakugou was truly a sight in his emotional state, though you could argue his unassuming state was equally, if not more breathtaking.

you noticed it as morning light illuminated him through the window of your room, hitting the silky fabric of your bedsheets around him. he was reading some book, dressed in comfortable attire that felt oddly domestic. maybe it'd be the most casual you'd ever see bakugou.

the thought struck a chord in you, making you wonder what'd happen after the dinner. it'd be awkward, for sure. it dawned on you that these moments with katsuki would vanish and things would go back to normal. they'd disappear into thin air, like nothing had ever happened. you weren't well educated in horology, but you were pretty sure that the time you'd spent with him would vanish as well, not to be spoken of or referenced ever again. time would keep trudging forward and you'd only be able to stare back as it disappeared on the horizon line.

you wanted to grasp the time that flooded your hands, encase the moment in glass and hold it in your palm forever.

"oi, idiot, what are you staring at?" and maybe it was the first time you truly heard bakugou's voice. it was rough on the edges with a soft core, you realized. maybe, after these couple of days, bakugou had started to care for you.

"nothing, stupid," you mumbled, returning your attention to your phone, but you couldn't shake off the newfound feeling that holed up in your heart. bakugou didn't care about you, you told yourself. you had a strictly professional relationship with him, and that was only broken for the time being because he needed a favour.

right. this was all for a favor.

nights spent testing each other on the most miniscule of facts and afternoons spent telling each other stories about each other - it was all nothing. it wasn't a big deal, you repeated to yourself.

still, you couldn't help but to look back up at bakugou and let your imagination run. he wore a black shirt and sweatpants, a complete 180 turn from the typical three piece suit he normally wore. maybe this is what he'd look like in the mornings if you were a proper couple, not client and bodyguard - maybe in another universe. you could imagine his bedhead, hair all messy and eyes still worn with sleep, vastly different from the professional persona he had around you. you'd wake up inhaling the scent of caramel and feeling his warmth surround you, feeling secure merely in his embrace. it'd be him and you in your own little bubble, unperturbed by the entire world.

wait, caramel? you wondered. where did that come from?

"you're staring again, dumbass," bakugou grunted, not looking up from his book.

"zoned out on the blandest thing i saw, sorry," you replied.

you sat in silence like that for a while. you weren't not exactly sure how it was bonding time for the dinner (were you sharing telepathic waves?), but it was comfortable like a fluffy comforter on a frigid winter day. it felt secure, like a home you never had in your own bedroom. every now and then there was the sound of a page turning from bakugou and a tap on your phone from you, and things never felt so normal. it was too short an eternity for you; before you knew it, you had some event to attend to for your father, solely there for the image of his company.

you didn't see the bittersweet look on bakugou's face as he watched you leave, or how he hadn't even finished a chapter of his book during the hours he'd sat with you. as his eyes followed your disappearing silhouette, bakugou wondered if he'd ever be able to see you like that again.

a foreign giddy feeling filled your chest as you got ready for the dinner with bakugou’s parents. you’d brought a bag for light travel packed with essentials (pyjamas, toothbrushes, and things like that), having planned ahead. you were typically indifferent to gatherings of any kind, having attended so many for your father. besides, this was a favor for bakugou. you weren’t sure why you were being so indecisive choosing an outfit for the dinner, or why your heart felt light as a feather, fluttering about in your rib cage boundless. this was no big deal, you told yourself. it’d only be bakugou and his parents; you’d spoken at gatherings of far more people with less nerves. you penned it down to only being excited for the food which was so coveted by bakugou. his mother, mitsuki, was apparently an outstanding cook (bakugou was apparently good as well), and you had to admit, you missed the heartening scent of homemade dishes. her specialty was spicy curry - your mouth watered at the thought.

yes, you reassured yourself as you walked out of the door and met the fresh, winter air outside, you were only in it for the food. you had an abnormally fast heart rate and a spring to your step (as noted by bakugou) solely for the food.

shizuoka prefecture was two hours away from your hometown, tokyo, and you forced bakugou to drive. the trip didn’t really feel like two hours, anyway, in your opinion. according to bakugou, that was only because you were sleeping the majority of the time and he was stuck with the dull task of driving and only the low hum of the radio to entertain him.

“well, this is it,” you said to bakugou, approaching his parents’ home, bag in hand. it looked quite elegant on the outside, snow thinly blanketing the well-kept greenery in the front. you turned to look at him. his suit looked nicer than usual, on full display because he refused to wear a coat despite the frigid air biting at any bit of bare skin unsheathed on your body. (“just the perks of having a great quirk like mine,” he’d said. you punched his shoulder.) you huddled closer into the warm padding of your coat, watching your white breath dissipate in the air.

“it is,” he belatedly said. his face was atypically solemn, eyes downcast and seemingly lost in thought. you didn’t comment on it. something about the nippy winter air numbed the atmosphere, as if all warmth had subsided only to your coat.

“do i look alright?” you asked him, trying to wipe away any last bits of drool you might’ve had on the corner of your mouth.

“yeah. you look… really nice,” he commented quietly. you didn’t mention that your bulky coat was covering the entirety of your attire. a heavy silence fell over the two of you.

anyway, the mood was quickly relieved by the presence of mitsuki bakugou, who greeted the pair of you at the door with her husband, masaru. bakugou really was a spitting image of his mother, sharing the same spiked blond hair and annoyingly clear skin with her. they also had similarly loud personalities, you observed later on. they’d often bicker with no real malicious intent. they were both much different compared to bakugou’s father, masaru, who was a gentle, soft-spoken man with brown hair and glasses.

mitsuki met you with enthusiasm, eagerly asking you questions about yourself and your relationship with bakugou. it was strange to see bakugou so quiet; though, at some points in the conversation, he looked like he was going to be sick. you didn’t have time to ask him about it, occupied by his mother’s unending but well-meaning questions. you’d expected to fib for most of them, but the truth easily slipped from your tongue. even compliments about him were half-truths.

"when we first met, he was like a fish out of water!" you recounted to mitsuki. "he stumbled on his words and my father didn't approve of him as my bodyguard. but, i pushed through, and here we are! right, katsuki?"

"r-right," he coughed, unable to look you in the eye and fidgeting nervously.

"it amazed me, too," mitsuki admitted. "i'd never seen our katsuki looking so polished before - it used to be a trouble getting him to even wake up at a decent time." she smiled at you. "you've brought a blessing on him."

bakugou cleared his throat. "don't talk about me like i'm not here," he grumbled.

"oh, katsuki," mitsuki cooed, pinching bakugou's cheek. "masaru, let's prepare dinner." she looked at you and bakugou. "the two of you don't need to worry about a thing - oh, you still have your bags! i’ll put them in katsuki’s room."

upon the absence of bakugou’s parents, the two of you sat beside each other without a word.

“are you… feeling alright?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “you don’t look so well.”

“fine,” he grunted. “i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. “not nervous meeting the parents?”

he cracked a small smile, but his fingers still nudged each other in his lap. you touched his shoulder, first in an attempt to comfort him, but soon realized that he was very toasty. you scooted towards him; he stared at you with an surprised, indecipherable expression. you linked his arm with yours and leaned into him, inhaling his cologne and bathing in his warmth.

“what?” you mumbled. “you’re warm.” you intertwined his fingers with yours. “warm,” you happily cooed, eyes slipping shut.

“jesus christ,” bakugou hissed. “you’re freezing. is it humanly possible for your hands to be this cold?” his other hand enveloped your hand (still being held by his), rubbing his thumb soothingly on the heel of your palm. a bubble of warmth fizzed inside you, heart effervescing like a carbonated beverage. he held you long after your hand had passed room temperature, and you sensed that maybe the fuzzy feeling jittering about you wasn’t his quirk. it was like some sort of low fire, crackling deep within you. you hadn’t much time to dwell on the thought when your eyes jolted open, smelling really, really good food wafting from somewhere near.

“look at the lovebugs,” you heard mitsuki murmur, standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room leaning on her husband. “dinner’s ready,” she softly said upon noticing your eyes on her.

your eyes widened, looking down at the hand entwined in yours, and you look at the man next to you. bakugou was sound asleep, tranquil slumber having sheathed itself around him. his head leaned against the top of the couch, mouth slightly agape and chest falling rhythmically.

“hey,” you whispered. reluctant to let go of his hand, you used your opposite hand to tap his shoulder lightly. “hey, sleepyhead.”

bakugou groaned, eyes still closed and body unmoving. “five… more… minutes…”

“sure,” you said easier than you expected. you immediately let go of the man’s hand (he reached out toward you blindly at this) and stood up. “i’ll just eat all of that food you've been looking forward to by myself…” mitsuki and masaru looked at you fondly.

“nice try, dumbass,” he said gruffly, standing up and putting a hand on your shoulder. his eyes were lidded with torpor and his voice was an octave deeper. it sent shivers down your spine - you hadn’t ever heard his voice like that - and a part of you wanted to hear it again. sadly, the effects of sleep passed him quite quickly; by the time he’d said “let’s eat, dumbass,” and made his way to the dining room, his voice was back to normal.

dinner consisted of scrumptious-looking (and tasting!) chicken katsu, curry, and even more conversation. your mouth watered as you spooned yourself the perfect ratio of rice, curry, and chicken in one bite. you politely raved to bakugou’s mother about her heavenly cooking, and bakugou never looked so proud or embarrassed in his life. masaru discussed fashion with you, mitsuki occasionally chiming in and offering to show you pictures of young bakugou modelling. you courteously declined for the fear of bakugou’s face getting any redder than it was already.

“y’know, katsuki really wanted to be a pro-hero when he was younger,” mitsuki reminisced. “he even was accepted at that really prestigious hero school, ua.”

you looked at bakugou with questioning eyes, and he shook his head dismissively, hesitant to the topic. you wondered what he was doing here, as your bodyguard, rather than the hero he aspired to be. it wasn’t like he’d be unable to become a sidekick once out of ua, so what happened…?

at the end, you seemed to have gotten the approval of mitsuki and masaru. your heart twisted in pain realizing who you were and why you were here; this was asked of you, nothing real. you pushed the thought away, returning to the dining room after washing your hands.

“oh, my!” mitsuki exclaimed as you entered the dining room. “it’s getting late.” she turned to you. “we don’t have a guest bedroom, so you’ll have to share a room with katsuki, if that’s alright?”

you looked to bakugou, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. “sure, i don’t mind,” you replied.

“i’m sure you’d love to see bakugou’s childhood room.” this brought bakugou abruptly to his senses; his eyes rounded, face looking like a deer caught in headlights.

a smile tweaked your lips. “i’d love to.”

you didn’t know what you were expecting when mitsuki opened the door to bakugou’s room. certainly, though, you were not expecting this. his room was decorated from head to toe with all might merchandise, carefully collected through the years. it could’ve been worse, you admitted to yourself, but bakugou’s interest in all might surprised you. the level of admiration bakugou had for the former symbol of peace was clear, plastered on the wall posters and figurines which dotted his bookshelves.

“of course,” misuki said, “this is all really from his middle school days. he had to move to a dormitory system in high school, and i’m afraid he didn’t take much along with him…”

you tilted your head at bakugou, who’d taken particular interest in the ground with his hand sheepishly on the back of his neck.

“it’s cute,” you reassured him gently.

“though katsuki’s bed is pretty big, we could pull out a futon if you’d like…”

“it’s alright.” shit. why did you say that? noting the bewilderment on bakugou’s face, you added, “we are dating and all…” you mentally smacked yourself for assuming bakugou would be comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you. “yeah,” bakugou said, much to your shock.

“that settles it!” mitsuki smiled. she winked. “don’t stay up too late.”

after mitsuki and masaru bade you goodnight and closed the door behind them, you were left alone with bakugou.

“hey, is that a picture of you?” after looking around the room, your eyes fell on a framed photo sitting on bakugou’s dresser. you reached for it, recognizing a familiar spiky haired blonde boy proudly holding a trophy.

“wait-” the frame was already held in your hands.

“aw, you were such a cute kid.” you teased, “can’t say the same about now.”

he huffed, ears reddening. “there’s a photo album on the bookshelf,” he mumbled, pointing to a thick looking book on his bookshelf. you eagerly plucked it from the shelf, holding it like a precious treasure in your two hands. he shoved his hands into his pockets and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you open the photo album.

the first photo was a baby photo, of course, and you could feel that it was taking every part of bakugou not to rip the book from your hands and scorch it all out of embarrassment. the first few pages were those of baby bakugou, eating food with his hands or playing with his parents. as the book progressed, you watched him develop a quirk (blowing up a vase) and become interested in pro-heroes (clutching an all might doll to his chest with a big smile on his face). the photos became more scarce as bakugou grew, but he seemed to grow happier. paging through photos of him in high school, the man’s gaze seemed to grow softer and fonder. his high school pictures consisted of him either standing in front of the famous ua or making an indifferent face with a group of his friends, who looked vaguely familiar from somewhere. upon further inspection, it dawned on you. you could recognize them all - they were young versions of the pro-heroes red riot, pinky, chargebolt, and cellophane. they regularly appeared on your newsfeed for one heroic deed or another, so it came no surprise to you that they attended the famed ua high.

as for bakugou, though? you couldn’t understand what he was doing there, or rather, here. if he graduated ua, he’d be right on track to become a pro-hero, not a bodyguard.

bakugou already sensed your revelation, shutting the book and putting it down. sitting on the bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“i know what you’re thinking,” he stated. he took a shaky breath. “i’m- i’m not ready to talk about it.”

“okay,” you replied. “i think… we should get some sleep. you have to drive back tomorrow.”

he snorted. “me?”

you nodded like it was a given.

the night was long, dragging in the same manner that you’d trudge through deep snow with weights on your ankles. it wasn’t that bakugou’s old bed was uncomfortable; it was surprisingly plush. you laid awake, though, as the clock ticked by and the house went silent. you felt as stiff as a wooden board, staring at the dark ceiling and thinking about everything and nothing.

your thoughts first strayed to bakugou’s childhood, and how he’d seemed the poster child for an aspiring pro-hero. how could he have given that up? he had friends, dreams, and a path open to his aspirations. yet somehow his life had deviated into this, pretending to date you for his parents’ sake.

it felt strange to lay in his bed in his parents’ house and not to really call him yours. not that you wanted to call him yours outside of this scenario. definitely not. it was just the guilt gnawing at you that impaired your proper judgement - your conscience felt pity. you pulled off a large lie to bakugou’s parents that you were dating when in reality, you’d never even gone on a proper date with the man; for all you knew, he could be a terrible person. he could have terrible dating manners and leave to the bathroom when the check comes in an attempt to force his date to pay. it was hard to imagine, but hey, you reasoned to yourself, it was a possibility.

“can’t sleep either?” bakugou’s deep voice startled you. you thought he’d fallen asleep hours ago.

“yeah,” you snorted. “and here i thought you were in the habit of always sleeping early,” you referenced his mother’s stories of him in middle and high school. you turned on your side to face the man.

“kinda hard with five different all mights staring at me,” he joked, gesturing to his plethora of all might-themed decorations.

you imitated all might’s larger than life voice. “i am here! … to watch you sleep!”

bakugou first snickered, which then transitioned into a full-blown, unrestrained (yet somewhat hushed) laugh. you couldn’t help but laugh too, watching his features crinkle and gummy smile widen. your heart felt peculiar in your chest, but you couldn’t figure out the feeling. in the years you’d known him, you’d never seen him so relaxed or open. you knew you’d miss moments like this in the morning, when you’d drive back and the deal would be over. it sent a bittersweet pang to your heart - why couldn’t moments like these last forever?

you woke up to find bakugou gone, leaving you alone in the bed with only a warm indentation next to you letting you know he’d just left. you rubbed your eyes groggily, sitting up and pushing the covers aside. you swung your legs over the edge of the bedside, standing up and making the bed once again. you padded out of the all might-furnished room to the kitchen, where you could hear quiet footsteps and the sizzling of a frying pan.

“someone’s finally awake,” bakugou’s husky voice remarked. he was standing at the stovetop, wearing an apron over his nightwear and frying eggs. sleep had worn his voice deeper; you swooned at the domestic sight before you. no, it wasn’t swooning, you told yourself. just… appreciation. you really wanted to make a comment on his muscles, bulging from his short-sleeved shirt.

“that looks really yummy,” you said, in no way whatsoever referencing his biceps and definitely referring to the egg in the pan.

“i’d like to pretend that was an innocent comment, but the direction your eyes are looking at beg to differ,” bakugou deadpanned. you looked away, flushed.

“so, whatcha making?” you said, plopping yourself on a chair.

“eggs, rice, natto, miso,” he said. “but nothing for you until you change and brush your teeth.”

you stuck your tongue out at him. “who are you, my mom?” you continued, “i used to hate natto when i was younger.”

“it’s good for you,” bakugou said, moving the egg onto a plate of steaming rice.

“you sound a lot like my mom,” you replied. “but i like natto now, just not too much of it.”

“i liked natto when i was younger,” bakugou said.

“really? all of my friends hated it. they complained about the smell.” you reminisced about your childhood days, when your biggest worry was whether you had homework or not.

“speaking of smell? your breath. go brush your teeth.”

“wh- i’m so far from you, there’s no way-”

“no hygiene, no food.”

“who even says that?” but you were already out of your chair and heading towards the bathroom.

“oh, by the way,” bakugou said as you were halfway through emptying your plate with rice in your mouth, “what do you want?”

“wha?” you said, chewing the egg-natto-rice mixture in your mouth. “what?”

“the deal,” he said. “before my parents wake up.”

“the deal-?” you racked your mind for any deal you’d made in the recent days, as you weren’t much a gambler, then it hit you. the deal. in an attempt to convince you to pretend to be his date, he’d said he’d do whatever you wanted for a day in exchange. you hadn’t thought about it at all.

“um,” you said intelligently. what did you want? you wanted to spend more time with him, but there would be no way…

“take me ice skating.” he choked on his rice.

“what?”

“i really want to ice skate…” you lied. “i’ve never been.” another lie.

“you want to go ice skating with me?”

“pay for me.” you could’ve paid for yourself. “and, you have terrible dating skills. how are you supposed to get a real partner? consider this beneficial for yourself.”

he blinked, taken aback. “...okay,” he agreed, dumbfounded. you hoped he couldn’t see through you. “when?”

“today, duh.”

by the time you finished your plate, bakugou’s parents had woken up to bid the two of you farewell. hours later, you found yourself at an outdoor ice skating rink in tokyo.

the rink was decorated festively; surrounding trees had been wrapped in golden lights and there was something in the atmosphere which bustled with cheer. those skating were either children or couples, laughing and skating together. you told yourself not to pay too much attention to them, but there was something about the way they looked so happy that made you yearn for the same.

you clumsily clomped toward the entrance of the rink itself, clad in four layers of warm clothing and worn rental skates. cold air nipped at your cheeks and your breath was a snowy white before your eyes. patting your cheeks in an attempt to half hype yourself up and half warm yourself up, you tensely stepped onto the frozen water. clunk. clunk.

“you look like an idiot,” bakugou said as you made your way onto the ice with slow clunks. he was surprisingly cocky about his skating prowess once he’d gotten his skates on, despite his lack of experience on the ice. he was unaffected by the chilly weather, wearing a thin jacket and denim jeans despite the vast majority of other skaters wearing winter coats.

“it’s cold,” you responded. slippery ice beneath your feet, you suddenly felt a great deal less confident in your ice skating abilities. it might as well have been your first time skating, in the eyes of bakugou. you took baby steps on the ice, both hands gripping the side rails while bakugou glided breezily past you.

“c’mon, idiot, loosen up~”

easy for him to say. “i’m- trying,” you gritted out, attempting to copy his fluid motions.

“hey, dumbass, take my hands.” bakugou stopped in front of you, both hands outstretched for you to hold. you looked at him warily, then accepted the offer, his hands replacing the railings.

“don’t hold them that hard,” bakugou said. “i’m not going to drop you. relax.”

you nodded, gulping as you released your death grip on his hands. starting to skate backwards (an incredible feat in your eyes), he slowly guided you along the edge of the rink. you spent most of the time staring at your own feet, trying to keep your balance and rhythm in time with bakugou’s. once you seemed to get the hang of it, he sped up ever so slightly, loosening his grip on your hands.

“just like that,” and his voice was much gentler than you’d ever heard it. you looked up to meet his soft gaze. your heart leapt and he quickly averted his eyes. “um,” he coughed awkwardly. “i think you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“okay.” you started to let go of his hands, testing your balance skating without anything to hold onto. in small amounts at first, you start to let go, allowing your strides to become longer and longer. bakugou matched your pace beside you and eventually, the two of you fell into conversation. you’d both forgotten your own words about how this was for him to gain dating experience; it felt too real to be practice.

“the truth is, i was really, really close to becoming a pro-hero,” he confessed, “but i was injured in my third year. i had to take a break for a year or so, but by that time, i was too rusty for the job.”

“but-” you said, almost stumbling on the ice at the revelation, “didn’t you do all that training-?”

he shrugged. “it’s the reality of it,” he said dismissively, a momentary shadow crossing his face. he recomposed. “i’m over it now.”

you had the slight suspicion that his words didn’t ring quite true, but let go of it. still, you couldn’t help but think about all of his all might decor - he must have idolized the man, only to fail at his dream. his room was like a memento to everything he wanted yet couldn’t reach. “you wouldn’t have met me if you hadn’t become a bodyguard,” you said cheerily in an attempt to distract both him and yourself.

“true,” he smiled. then, almost to himself, he added, “i don’t regret that.”

the two of you skated a couple more laps around the rink. conversation faded and your feet became more and more sore after skating for so long. a chill had settled itself onto your bones as the sky tinted in anticipation of the evening to come.

“we should get going now,” bakugou said. “before it gets too cold.”

“yeah-” your phone buzzed in your pocket. “hang on, give me a second.”

it was tanaka, telling you that you had a date scheduled by your father in two hours. it took you a moment, it really did, to remember who you were and what your priorities truly lay.

you made it a point not to tell bakugou what the call was about on the way back. you told him it was about a business deal, and he pretended to buy it. the car ride was desolate, lacking all warmth despite the heater blasting. you felt guilty; why had you lied to bakugou? you and he both knew you were lying about the business deal. was it pity? why had you felt the need to protect him?

you could only amount it to the fact that maybe bakugou was becoming a friend. maybe bakugou was becoming someone you never wanted to hurt. your thoughts were the only thing you could hear over the buzz of the car’s heater. you looked to the sky with imploring eyes as if some cloud on the lavender-tinged atmosphere listened and could provide you an answer.

you weren’t sure if it was the clouds’ doing or some star hiding behind the sun’s light that washed a sense of solemness by the time you returned to meet tanaka at the gates. it was almost enough to make you forget the sad feeling you held whilst looking at bakugou one last time before stepping out of the car to greet your old butler. the feeling was unfathomable to you; in your daze on the ride back, there’d seemingly been no reason for such a feeling to linger in your heart. why had you felt so much guilt, so much sadness for this man you were supposed to be strictly on business relations with?

not that you’d done this, anyway. your business relationship with bakugou ended the minute you agreed to that favour he’d proposed, and was further broken when you ice skated together. you wondered if he felt the same as you, or if things would return to the way they had been after this date tonight. somewhere deep in you hoped it wouldn’t - hoped he wouldn’t forget it all. (“stay here,” you’d told him when you stepped out of the car. his stare was vacant; would he? you weren’t sure why you even asked.)

“tanaka,” you said stiffly. the air was frigid around you (when had the temperature dropped so suddenly?) and a breeze wrapped itself around your legs. an impulse told you to turn back, look at bakugou, and tell him the things you left unsaid - but you didn’t.

“y/n,” he nodded. it was like a wake-up call. this was who you were, truly. your father’s pawn, his company’s pawn. you were a face used for business and nothing more. you traded your feelings for your father’s wealth - that’s who you were.

yet it was the past two days that made you feel more like yourself than ever before. the time spent with bakugou, of all people, made you feel genuinely happy. he made your name feel more like yours than your father’s. it seemed it was he who could only coax this feeling out of you. you, certainly, couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. there was something unlike anything you’d experienced before which bakugou gave you. but you couldn’t let your father down, could you?

“y/n, we must go now,” tanaka urged.

you didn’t look back.

bakugou watched you leave with an inscrutable expression. as soon as you vanished from his sight, he let out a deep sigh and bashed his head on the steering wheel, then rubbed the spot of contact. that would leave a mark.

he wished he could pretend he didn’t know what your sudden meeting was about. he couldn’t. what kind of bodyguard was unaware of his client’s schedule? you were going on a date, on account of your father’s absolutely superb matchmaking skills. he wanted to strangle the bastard.

god, he was an idiot to have gotten his hopes up about you. just like countless other things in his life, you were unattainable. he was constantly in pursuit of the impossible, it felt, yet none of his endeavours’ ends had quite felt like this. it started when he was a child with a newly developed quirk. constant words of praise fluttered around his ears, all applauding his strong quirk and natural intelligence. it continued when he entered school, winning academic and athletic awards for what everyone called his talents. (he remembered looking up the definition of “talent” in a dictionary in his elementary school’s library and being sorely disappointed. no one had seen the hours he’d dedicated to practicing and studying after school - all of that couldn’t amount to what everyone else had called natural talent.)

in doing so - winning all those competitions - he’d somehow earned the approval of all those around him. it was never something he’d wanted or aimed for, but it soon started to fit him like a custom-tailored outfit. somewhere along the way, he started to seek out the approval of others, flaunting his accomplishments to do so. however, as years went by, one thing became apparent: the tactics used on his peers and teachers would never gain his parents’ approval. he so yearned for a tad of his parents’ praise or satisfaction; even an “i’m proud of you, katsuki,” from them would’ve sent katsuki to the stars and back. he never was quite sure, as a youth, how to gain this prize, so to speak. and so, for the sake of his parents, he became stronger and stronger and thus began his journey to attain the first impossibility in his life.

high school, at once, came knocking on his door in the midst of this endless journey. with it came izuku midoriya, the boy katsuki had bullied in middle school. this time, though, it was izuku who was stronger; katsuki had so wanted to atone for all that he’d done to the boy, but it proved something impossible. on the physical level, izuku had already forgiven him and moved on. it wasn’t enough for katsuki, who’d really done nothing to deserve izuku’s kindness. so katsuki set off, trying to truly deserve the boy’s forgiveness and make up for everything he’d done. in katsuki’s mind, there would be nothing he could do that would balance out the weight of his actions to izuku. hence unraveled the second impossibility katsuki set up for himself.

the third impossibility found itself in katsuki’s third year at ua academy. he was working for his parents’ approval and atonement for izuku; this impossibility, though, would send everything crumbling down. impossibles, unlike any math equations covered during his schooling, could not be cancelled out the more brought into the equation. it was perhaps katsuki’s only salvation and lifeline, his passion to become a hero. fate snatched this very possibility from katsuki’s hand, snapping the lifeline and dangling it just out of his reach. all of it was cruel - the sympathetic words spoken from recovery girl’s lips and the weeks katsuki had to sit out of hero training. even worse was how katsuki watch his grade drop from one of the top in the class to only passable in general studies, no longer sharp enough to qualify for a pro-hero. by the time he healed, he was rendered unable to rejoin the hero course. his goal was thrown away easily, becoming another impossibility.

katsuki trained himself physically for a new job. an acquaintance had introduced him to being a bodyguard, and katsuki figured that was close enough to being a hero. not that he particularly enjoyed the notion of waiting on someone’s every beck and call. but through and through his countless impossibilities and misfortunes, he had to move forward. he was tired, so tired - hearing his parents’ disappointed voices on the phone and looking up to see a billboard of the newest top pro-hero, deku. when he foolishly and naively got his hopes up about you, the logical part in him knew it was doomed. he knew that as he stared at you, illuminated by a golden light in your bedroom, it was ill-fated. you were a miracle opening up a new life to him - but miracles weren’t real.

of all the impossibilities in his life, you were the most painful. why was he cursed in such a way? where had the happiness in his life gone, if not with you as you walked away from him? he stared at his suit cuff, suffocated in the stupid attire. he should never have taken this job.

a knock. another knock. three more rapid knocks, and he finally looked up to see your eager face looking at him from the passenger side window. he hastily unlocked the car door with a click.

“finally,” your exasperated voice said to him, tinged in a happy hue that he’s confused by.

“wh-where’s tanaka?” katsuki stuttered. “your date-”

“i did it, bakugou.” you beamed at him. “i refused. i said no.”

“wha-what? you refused what?”

“the date, duh!” you laughed. you grew quiet. “i realized something. i realized that all i want is you, and it’s… it’s about time i start taking control of my life.”

katsuki cracked a smile. a real one, not painful like so many others he’d faked before. “you’re a dumbass, you know that?” and it was endearment, bringing you close to his heart.

maybe fate had decided to bless him. maybe it was all the impossibilities in his life that had cancelled each other out to give him you.

“oh, and by the way,” you said, changing the topic. “i’ve been thinking a lot about it recently. we need to have a rematch for that sorry excuse of a fight we had the other day. i will have an undisputed victory over you.”

“you’re on, moron.”

it was definitely fate that brought katsuki to you.

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst

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minerstatus · 3 years

Text

Teyvat’s School for the Gifted

Summary: He's cruel, mean, and sadistic. Lumine cannot fathom why he has the followers he does, but she won't fall into his hands like the rest of them. It was unknown to her at that time how such a stance would cause the biggest uproar the schools ever seen.

This is the silly drama filled high school/college parody AU nobody asked for filled with Lumine not giving a shit and Childe trying to buy his way out of problems.

Ship: Lumine/Childe

Tags: Highschool AU, Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Jealousy, lots of side ships.

Status: 10/? on Ao3

Chapter 2

She had two options to think about after that ‘encounter’ or whatever you want to call it. Get in line like the rest of the students and eventually ‘hopefully’ her new toy status wears off and she fades into the sea of students. But that would depend on how HE acts after the dinner encounter. And something told Lumine from the way Amber and Barbara reacted to even speaking of the red headed devil he was a force to be reckoned with.

She tossed and turned in the night thinking of different scenarios for the morning.

There were boys like him back home. Maybe not filthy rich, sons of local shop owners, that acted like him. None of them possessed the same air as he did. Being able to part a sea of students just by walking has to be a superpower in itself.

Come to think of it she didn’t even find out where he was from, perhaps she should ask. The more info the better when it comes to defending herself.

She was never one to sit down and take abuse. When she was just in grade school the local boys knew not to mess with her after a few unfortunate incidents. Her mother always told her it was her blonde hair and honey eyes that made her stand out.

It always starts with them testing you. Small things to annoy you, just to see how you react. She would not be able to keep her temper down if that happened. She already had an issue with her mouth as it is.

She turned one final time in the plush bed she had been provided with. The school had made sure even the scholarship students were treated above average. It was impressive, but did little to dampen her jitters.

First day, which means new people and new teachers. Lumine was walked by Amber and Barbara to the faculty building. Razor was found sitting on a bench halfway there. It brought a smile to her face.

Razor had never left Amber’s side the entire night they sat talking. It was girl gossip that Lumine was never into, but enjoyed now that she had some people to actually talk to. Not many people are willing to come to a run-down farm for a sleepover back home. Razor himself didn’t talk much, but Lumine was observant. He sat on her bed and watched her, every action, smile, glance. Lumine was quite interested in understanding what Ambers reservations about him were. She seemed to like him from her perspective.

More questions for later.

A plump woman greeted her at the front desk. She was cheerful, but not like Mrs. Lee was, instead giving off warm motherly tones. Lumine could imagine her doting on all the students she came in contact with.

“Here you are dear.” She handed her a slip of paper with her classes.

“Thanks,” Lumine said quietly as she read the sheet. Alchemy, ancient runes, adventuring 101, history, then finally vision training. She internally laughed at the last class, perhaps they were going to rename it. She pulled on the collar of her school issued cardigan as it threatened to slide off one shoulder.

“Just head out to the academics building Mrs. Lee showed you yesterday and a student will be waiting to guide you to your classes,” The woman told her. Lumine nodded and gave back a genuine smile before turning to leave.

It was easy to pick out the student waiting for her in front of the buildings doors despite the crowds entering and exiting. It was a green haired girl nervously fisting her skirt between fidgeting with her glasses. Two small animal ears poked out from under her main of messy hair. She wore her skirt long, unlike the rest of the student body (and Lumine herself), and covered up with a baggy school issued cardigan like Lumine’s.

“Are you the one waiting for the new girl?” Lumine asked. The girl snapped out of a nervous trance and a blush covered her features.

“Ah! Y-yes,” She stuttered before taking a breath, “Sorry I get nervous easily, my names Sucrose,” she extended a hand.

“Thats a pretty name, I like it,” Lumine said as she returned the handshake. She hoped it might calm her down but Sucrose turned scarlet instead.

“I-I'll walk you to your class,” She mumbled and walked inside. Lumine followed silently, deciding the best course of action was to not embarrass her further.

She led her to a decently sized class of students with a portly teacher standing in the front. He wore robes and a ridiculously oversized wizards' hat. The site was an oddity in Lumines eyes, having only ever had exceptionally plain teachers back home. Sucrose left Lumine at the front of the class as she shuffled over to the teacher, managing to get his attention with a simple clearing of her throat. Lumine decided to inspect the chalk board instead of the students. She didn’t want to know if the red headed asshole was in here yet.

“Ah yes Lumine!” The teacher bellowed and waved her over. She stepped lightly up onto his raised platform as sucrose scurried to her seat in the front row. “My name is professor Rasmodius, take a seat next to Zhongli back there,” He pointed off into the right of the room. Lumines stomach sank at the mention of a familiar name. She dragged herself to the back of the class and slid into the empty stool next to him.

They made eye contact and she swore she could see the gears turning in his mind before he spoke.

“He’s not in this class,” He said in monotone.

Lumine choked on her own spit, “w-what?” she asked him.

“He’s not here, if that is what you are worried about,” He smiled down at her sweetly. Lumine felt her face heat up.

“I don’t care if he's here or not,” She quickly recovered and crossed her arms.

“Hm,” He put a hand on his chin, “You had the same gaze as most other new females.”

“Yes, well sorry for being nervous.”

“Perhaps I have made a wrong assumption, I apologize,” He turned his body to her, “Zhongli of the Wangsheng funeral parlor.”

Lumine fumbled a bit at his words. Was it normal to greet someone with your name and what company you hail from? She eyed him wearily for a moment then decided to screw it. Not like they wouldn’t find out if she lies.

“Lumine of a very poor farm outside of Mondstadt.”

He chuckled in a low deep tone. Lumine felt her façade falling as her heart sped up.

“Sorry, perhaps too formal?” He asked.

“You talk like you are speaking to a business partner,” she told him honestly.

“Ive been told that before, even by my friends,” He admitted. For the first time Lumine’s lips quirked into a teasing smile.

“Alright class today we will be looking into the mythical potions of Esteria! page 103!” The teacher commanded. The room filled with the sounds of turning pages.

“I didn’t get a book?” Lumine questioned.

“You will more than likely get them at some point today,” Zhongli told her as he slid his book over between them, “here share mine.”

“Thanks,” She mumbled, dipping behind her hair to hide her blush. Perhaps her friends were right, most of the group wasn’t that bad.

Okay maybe they were wrong, at least two out of the four were very very bad. She had not seen the infamous Childe today, but after alchemy Zhongli was very kind to walk her to the next class. Relieving a very thankful, yet worried, sucrose from her job.

They talked about small things, mostly how the school was going, what she thought of it, what kind of things she did back in Mondstadt. To her surprise Zhongli seemed genuinely interested in the day to day life of a poor person. He was awkwardly polite with everything, but had a sincerity to him that he wore on his sleeve.

There was just one sneaking suspicion she had regarding the man. How on earth does a funeral parlor have enough money to send their son to this school AND be the top of the food chain. Surely these boys were flooded with money otherwise the attention wouldn’t be as drastic. There were even glares tossed her way as they walked to the next class.

It was nice to have the attention, he had a smooth deep voice that sent her insides into a flurry. That was until they came upon Xiao. The boy was shorter than his tall geo counterpart and crossed his arms at their arrival. He glared at her as Zhongli added another sentence to their conversation. The words fell on deaf ears as Lumine tried to fight back a snarky remark. She had done nothing to earn this glare from him and it was irking her.

“Keep glaring like that and your face will freeze that way,” She blurted out.

“What?” He hissed at her.

“Ah,” Lumine back tracked, she didn’t mean to speak her thoughts like that, “you just look awfully peeved is all,” she decided on. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Day one, mouth already got her in trouble, nice.

They had a standoff for a few moments before Xiao conceded with a huff and turned into the room.

“Don't worry about him, he's weary of newcomers,” Zhongli said from besides her. She looked up to him for reassurance and was once again met with an honest gaze and smile.

“I-” She began to say and stopped to think about it, “I trust you.”

Even if he was lieing, what harm would come of it? She loses a friend she never even had?

Ancient runes was a snooze fest as expected. She sat next to an incredibly ordinary looking girl who should have hissed like a cat when Lumine sat down. It would have made the look she gave her less comical.

But things perked up in Adventuring 101. The class was useless to someone like her. It was basically preaching about basic safety the entire time. Don’t touch pryo slimes, they hurt. Don’t go off fighting electro monsters in the rain, that also hurts. Always have food rations and medical potions on you!

Blah.

She didn’t need this info, but it was a required class. Get a taste of everything before heading off to the college and decide what classifications you want. Stupid rules some adult made to torture the youngins.

It was fifteen minutes into the class. There was a saving grace, she had a seat next to Zhongli. He shared his book with her again and was polite and overly cordial as always. She assumed the class was full with everyone in attendance. There were a few empty desks but students could be sick or the class could have fewer students than desks.

Then HE walked in, opening the door without a care in the world, loudly. There was this beaming, disgustingly fake, smile plastered to him. A girl followed him inside, checking her makeup on a small compact mirror. They seated themselves in the empty spots adjacent to herself and Zhongli.

The teacher scolded him as he walked, but he ignored it with a shrug. His entire demeanor made her want to mop the floor with his pretty face. Just like the boys back home. She made a point to keep her eyes forwards or at the text in front of her. Not wanting to give him any ideas. There was a cold chill crawling up her spine again, he was staring.

The class continued onwards. The teacher quickly dropped the subject of publicly shaming Childe for walking in to class late. They were moving on to something at least slightly interesting she didn’t know too much about. How to read the stars and sun for location and time. It was something she never needed as she stayed close to home.

It was useful to her so she took out her notepad and began to scribble down some text out of the book as she teacher lectured. She made it a few words in before the girl next to Childe giggled in that high pitch way girls do when they are trying to impress a man.

She dared a side glance over to the table and noticed the girl enamored by him. Getting a full view of the back of her head as Childe whispered sweet nothings to her. He sensed her gaze and looked up, making eye contact. She went back to her work before the girl could turn, clearing her throat.

He was testing her; she could feel it. Between yesterday's stare down and this there was no mistaking it.

“Something wrong?” Zhongli asked her in a low whisper.

“Just a little difficult to get work done with so many distractions,” She growled.

“You will grow accustom soon,” He told her. She laughed quietly at his choice of words. Someone needed to remind him he was still a teenager.

The entire period passed with flirtatious whispers and laughs flying.

And not, one. God. Damn. Time, did the teacher say anything to the two culprits. Although something told her Childe was the true mastermind behind the distraction. She tried her best, she really did, but Lumine was never great at keeping her temper in control. Not when it came to completely asinine males making a side show out of a class.

Her pencil lead snapped on her paper.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“It seems you have snapped your lead,” Zhongli murmured. She refrained from calling him captain obvious. There was a chuckle to her right, this time clearly mocking and directed at her, she herself snapped. She turned and with pin point accuracy threw the pencil at her tormentor. The eraser bounced off his forehead, sending the object into an unknown destination in the room.

The smile fell from his features and they traded deadly glares. The girl sitting with him was busying herself cooing over him asking what's wrong. Oblivious to the events that just unfolded. Zhongli of all people fucking laughed.

She turned her glare into a smug grin reading ‘what are you gunna do about it? now shut the hell up’ and turned back to her work. She leaned back and crossed her arms.

“Well played young lady,” Zhongli whispered to her.

The option of fading into the background had vanished.

#chilumi #genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #genshin fanfic #childe #Lumine #genshin impact fanfiction

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marauder-exe · 4 years

Text

Outburst- Sirius Black x reader

Prompt: “I'm in love with you! Is that what you wanna hear?”

word count: 1506

A/n: Hihi! This is my first full fic so id love your feedback!, Requests are open as always. Thank u :)

It fucking sucked. Your best friend, Sirius had been ignoring you all week, most days you where practically attached at the hip, inseparable and content. But one day, out of the blue, he started ignoring you, like what the fuck? Being close with the marauders since first year, you tried to ask them what was up with him, but all you received was a chorus of ‘i dunno’s . It was utterly frustrating to be honest, and it honestly hurt. You'd been crushing on him since second year, in love since third. It was hard, keeping the biggest secret from your best friend for the last four years, but you couldn't tell him, tell notorious playboy Sirius Black, that you've been in love with him since he had cheered you up with endless jokes and stories that one night you'd been crying in the hallway all those years go. It was impossible, if you told him you'd loose him, fuck up your friendship and be alone again, but if you didn't tell him, you'd be stuck, crushed under the weight of your love while he goes rendezvousing with some 6th year. You couldn't live with him and you couldn't live without him. You where undeniably, irrevocably in love with him and he hadn't the faintest idea. But today you where determined to find out why he had been avoiding you, all the moving seats away from you in classes, the avoiding you in the great hall, the library, the common room, what was it all for?

So the next day you woke up, you where on a mission, You stretched and yawned, sitting up in your bed, looking at your picture of the marauders and you, you started to get ready for the day, you where on a mission. You mentally checked your timetable, for what lessons you had with Sirius, Herbology, DADA, and care of magical creatures. Perfect Care of magical creatures was the last lesson of the day and he couldn't possibly avoid you. So your day went along, slowly may I add. Herbology, divination, DADA, muggle studies, alchemy, Sirius desperately trying to avoid your burning glare through your shared lessons, which was pretty hard. Lily had come up to you during Herbology, to ask what was up with you and Sirius, knowing you two where never out of each others sight, but you couldn't exactly give her a solid answer. Then you saw something in her eyes, a little glint of something.

“Ahhhh righttttt.” She dragged on.

“what is it lils? Do you know something? Did James tell you something? Why that slimy git!” You quickly perked up. Although you didn't miss the blush that crept on her pale face at the mention of James.

She quickly shook her head “Nope, just heard a little something through the grape vine.” She smirked.

“I swear to merlin lils if you don't tell me ill strangle you with that grape vine!”

“Ah ah ah, all in due time, peaches.” You smirked and saddened at the thought of where the nickname came from. Your very classy best friends, the marauders, well mostly James, decided it would be a great idea for you to flash the whole school your underwear. A cute set with peaches on them. Sirius stopped them after a few seconds, citing it was a bit insensitive, and he would do it to lily if James tried that again, but you didn't miss Sirius’ little whisper, ‘they do look cute doll’, You smiled, you and Sirius had always been like that, flirty. It broke your heart every time because you knew he didn't mean it. You huffed.

“Fine, lils but if I don't find out soon I will blow my lid”

She smiled, shook her head and started to walk away, she turned “You'll be blowing more then that when you find out”

what was she possibly on about?

The conversation lingered in your mind for a dew hours after, a strange strange woman she was, but you could see why James was in love with her, You longed for something like that. Care of magical creatures finally rolled around, you'd been anxious all lesson, dreading and anticipating your chat with Sirius. Classes with professor Kettleburn where always exciting, I mean the man was missing half of his limbs, for god sake. Although it passed by fairly quickly, your nerves went up and up. The end of the class came and you saw Sirius make a dash back to the castle, obviously not wanting to speak to you, the marauders drawled slowly behind, talking about whatever.

“Sirius! Sirius!” You shouted, but he just quickened his pace. As you neared the whomping willow, you quickly ran up to him, pushed him against the tree, and stuck your wand at his neck. “Why wont you talk to me?”

James, Peter and Remus quietly made a bet as the scene unfolded. “ Bets on that he’ll choke” James clearly had a lot of faith in his friend.

“I don't think he’ll tell her” Peter squeaked. Thanks man.

“Nah, he’ll tell her” At least someone believed in his friend.

“Alright 5 galleons he chokes?” James challenged.

“Bet”

“I have no clue what your talking about” Sirius said offhandedly.

You removed your wand from his neck, you where not playing this game.

“You know what im talking about, You've avoided me this entire week. Practically attached at the hip for the Last 6 years and now! Now is the time you deicide you've had enough. What is it Sirius? What are you running from? What's got Hogwarts stone faced, witty, playboy so down? Why wont you fucking talk to me?” You belted, not caring who would hear. He grew angrier from each word you spoke, until he stood his full ground, shoulders squared, looking hurt and angry.

“’m in love with you! Is that what you wanna hear?”

That's when it hit you, he couldn't, He's Sirius black, playboy extraordinaire, he couldn't possibly love you.

“Sirius…”

“What? That-that iv'e been in love with you since I saw you in first year, that my heart aches every time I see you because I know you don't feel the same, that I have to sleep with every girl under the sun to try to forget that you couldn't possibly love a man like me. You wanna hear how I notice how angelic you look in the morning, even after crashing in my bed from exhaustion? How every morning you look at the picture of us and the marauders you have on your night stand because “you always want to begin the day with your best friends” on the off chance you don't see one of us today? Or the fact that since the day ive met you ive never seen you wear a single pair of matching socks because your superstitious and their lucky? How you have books practically falling out of your dorm its that jam packed, because you want to read every book ever created? How you look so perfect without even trying? Even when you've been swimming, or not slept in days, or haven't showered in a week, even then you look unbelievably perfect I wonder what we did to deserve you being friends with us? I wonder what I did to have someone as perfect as you in my life? Huh? How ill never have a chance with you because of how undeniably perfect you are? How you deserve someone smart like Remus, or sporty like James? Someone who you would undeniably be perfect with? But they're not in love with you, I am! And as much as you don't feel the same I really hope this doesn't ruin our fucking friendship just because im fucking in love wit you!”

By the end of his speech he looked so exhausted, like the weight of the world had just been lifted off of his shoulders, while you just stood there, dumbfounded. The boy you've been head over heels for since 2nd year liked you back. You just stared, stared and stared. You where left absolutely speechless. He took that as a bad sign, a tear rolled down his cheek as he turned to walk away, muttering a quiet ‘that's what I thought’.

You had to do something, anything before he walked away. So, you ran up to him and pulled him down for what had to be on of The Most Passionate Kisses In The History Of Kisses ©. Its like all the emotion over the past 6 years had been poured into the kiss, only to be broken apart by hearing your friends dry heaving in the background, you shot them a death glare and turned back to Sirius, who had the most lovestruck look on his face.

“So, you feel the same?” He smiled.

“Of course I do, dummy” You two where so enthralled in each other you missed Peter and James each slipping 5 galleons into Remus’ hand with disgruntled looks on their faces while he just smirked

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction

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drkcnry67 · 3 years

Text

dont let me fall (day 1)

AN: @obxmermaid here is day 1: Ice skating!

Fandom Universe: Harry Potter

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

tags: having a quiet moment on the ice, fighting to have a forbidden school romance, Draco meeting the reader to the ice rink in a secluded part of school grounds on break during the day and the 2 of them use their school shoes to skate on the ice

25 days of hogwarts list

this was your 5th year at hogwarts, this year was one of great importance, for this was the year of you starting to tutor. you had tutored partially this last year, but it was a strange start to your tutoring career, for you got assigned to tutor one student in particular.

Draco Malfoy, from a pureblood family his father a death eater and a follower of Voldemort. you were a strong opponent in dueling and now in quidditch. for you made quidditch captain within your first few games.

He was also unfortunately a quidditch captain except he played for Slytherin. the captains tent for Ravenclaw (your house) was shared with Slytherin (Draco’s house) sadly though this was only for show.

as always you sent a fire message to Draco asking to meet in the captains tent to discuss the practice schedule, but also the tutoring schedule it was the most private place away from prying eyes to meet.

For during the summer in the last few days before the train boarded to go to hogwarts you and Draco bumped into each other. It went something like this:

Draco: YN, how are you?

Yn: Draco, I'm good, yourself!?

You ask casually as though waiting for a miracle.

Draco: hiding from my family.

YN: well maybe i can help you hide a bit.

Draco: what did you have in mind?

YN: we could hide amongst the muggles.

Draco: you mean hide in plain sight, live like normal people for a few days.

YN: exactly besides then we could actually be a normal couple for once in our almost year together!

Draco: lets go...

you both went to olivanders and begged him to let you both use his flue travel. he said he would keep your secrets and you would both be safe from the authorities. that was the start of your first few days as a normal muggle couple.

after that the start of your 5th year together, you were 16. your 17th birthday would come at the end of your 5th year. draco’s birthday was a month and a bit before yours.

this made you feel like a normal person the day that Draco first approached you not for quidditch but for tutoring. this was the time when you would now start to build something other than a rivalry with Draco.

Draco and you had waited a month and a bit before you would meet in the astronomy tower for the tutoring schedule. to have the first tutoring session, plus you would get to greet each other properly... if no one else was around.

you and draco had your first kiss that final time in the quidditch tent at the end of your 4th year. it was your magical time, it was your own happy ever after. or at least the start of it anyway.

Draco had slipped you a note on the split off to the dorms. you opened it when you got to your dorm. you made sure no one was around first before opening it.

Draco’s note: meet me in the tent during spare... i have something to show you... love Draco...

you smiled hiding the note hearing voices approaching. one of them Hermione, the other Harry. both looking at you smiling like a idiot.

Harry: are you alright YN?

YN: of course why wouldnt i be...

Hermione: why are you smiling ear to ear and why are you giggling.

you had to come up with something believable.

YN: i was talking with the constellations on the ceiling that leo was telling some really good jokes. made me smile.

Hermione came to sit beside you.

Hermione: your parents again.

YN: yes they insist on showing me suitor after suitor when i dont want any of those pompus annoying dirtbags, i want someone real and honest and happy to be with me for me. i just want someone of my choosing, not of my parents choice.

you take a breath as a few tears fall.

YN: i just want to be with someone i love and that loves me in return.

Hermione: dont worry girl, you will find your special person.

Harry: of course you will trust me its never an easy thing talking to the opposite sex especially if they arent your friend. you just have to make sure that you keep it either within our house or a wizard elsewhere.

YN: i know but what if my future lies outside of what im supposed to do.

Hermione: well then we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

You nod as you realize that there is a few moments till charms. then its your spare where Draco wants to meet to give you a surprise. you would be livid if the next hour didnt go by quickly.

you kept your cool, you didnt show any excitement. though it didnt help that you could feel Draco’s eyes on you the entire time. you were in your own state of mind. you were just thinking about how this entire time your destiny has been right in front of you.

professor flitwick: alright class who would like to come up here and show us a new charm they learned over the summer!

You looked back slightly “stretching” your neck Draco nodded slightly to you. you stood up and spoke.

YN: ill demonstrate one professor, but ill need a volunteer...

meanwhile draco was looking a little bored, he was keeping up his image.

Professor flitwick: how bout you Mr. Malfoy you look like your kind of bored. come on down, front and center.

the class watched as draco made his way from his seat to stand before the class. the rivalry between the 2 of you was legendary, well at least among hogwarts anyway.

Draco: YN

YN: draco

Draco: let me guess the little girl learned some new spells over the summer...lets see this little magic trick...

You pulled out your wand and stood ready. you stare directly at Draco holding his gaze as you speak the spell.

YN: SILENCIO

the spell was cast. Flitwick was impressed.

Flitwick: impressive YN, very impressive, keep it up and you could possibly take over my class some time. well, Mr Malfoy how do you feel?

Draco’s mouth was now moving but no sound was coming out. the class laughed as the bell rang, people began to get up and gather their stuff, Flitwick waved his wand allowing Draco to speak again.

Flitwick: don't forget students to speak to YN if you need any help with your studies and work on your wrist movements. there will be a physical spell test before the holiday break. see you all tomorrow!

the class dismissed, you walked out of the room with Harry, Hermione and Ron. splitting off to go on your spare. which meant dropping your books off at the dorm and then getting ready to meet Draco. you heard a bunch of merry excitement...

you looked out your window and see a fresh blanket of snow coating the grounds. you decided that your house colors and some winter shoes/jacket would be an appropriate attire.

you head off for a walk on the grounds in the snow. sticking to the path you take a spin in the snow falling snow. straightening up for the final approach to the tent. you wave your hand silently spelling the tent, to prevent anyone who might hear anything said.

you enter the tent. Draco’s head turns toward you.

Draco: your early...

YN: no im right on time. sorry about charms class. i was really trying to demonstrate a simple spell that wouldnt get me into deep trouble. i know now that i am happiest when im with you, or reading your little notes, or happily walking through the streets as a normal couple. i know that my future is lucky to have you in it.

Draco: how could you think that i would be mad over you demonstrating that spell to the class. i was amazed when you cast that. you continue to surprise me every day, and as long as i live i will not let anyone tear us apart. even if i have to give up a part of myself so we can be together.

YN: now whats your surprise. ive been itching to know.

Draco: use the same spell thats on the tent on us. we dont want to be heard.

you do so, Draco takes your hand and smiles as you both walk outside to see the ground now covered in snow. but one thing remained to be seen. an ice rink...

Draco: watch this ive been practicing... call this a demonstration of what you had me study.

Draco stands beside you wand at the ready pointing it at the snow in front of you.

Draco: Glacius!

in a few short seconds a rink of ice had been formed before your eyes. you smiled a few moments before moving to hug Draco.

YN: this is amazing. well done on that spell. but we dont have any skates...

Draco: we dont need them. come on we just have to smile as we walk gently across the ice.

Draco takes your hand and both of you walk onto the ice. Your shoes slide a bit, but between the laughter and slipping you got lost in Draco's eyes, that made you loose your balance. You knocked you both into the snow.

The laughter became softer as the gaze you both held now calm expressions of love expressed through soft kisses.

The both of you got up brushed the snow off each other and then heard the curfew warning bell.

Walking halfway back to the school made things easier to say goodbye but it also made things easier to keep up appearances.

One more kiss before you parted ways. You went back inside and Draco waited a full 5 minutes before he followed.

You make it back to your shared dorm and you go sit on the bed, Hermione come in short while later.

Hermione: how was your walk?

Yn: it was amazing! For the fresh snowfall it is really nice out. I went to the quidditch tent and checked the schedule apparently ravenclaw is versing slytherin tomorrow. That means the press will want more draco/ YN rivalry.

Hermione: well let's rest up, it's a new day tomorrow.

Yn: ya it is. Night cuz!

With that you both went to sleep. Draco had made it back to his dorm room and sent u a little text message saying "good night my sweet love." before he too drifted off.

*to be continued*

#obxmermaidholiday

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lokisgame · 5 years

Text

A Generous Donation [8]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7]

Mulder woke up to music and the scent of coffee, remembering last night and grinning like a madman. "I died and went to heaven," he said to the ceiling and got up. Though his neck and shoulder echoed a little, life still felt pretty good. He pulled a clean tee and jeans from the chest of drawers and headed for the shower. Pans and plates from in the kitchen told him she wasn't going anywhere.

Ten minutes later, he padded downstairs to see the living room straightened and Scully, by the stove in nothing but his yesterdays' t-shirt. Tips of her hair were wet and she swayed to Marley on the stereo. 'Is this love that I'm feeling' "From your mouth to God's ears, Bob," he thought.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, moving with her as he kissed her cheek. "Good morning." "Hey, you sleep like a deadman," she breathed, leaning into him as he moved to her neck. "Rarely." Scully chuckled, squirming but not pulling back. "Do you ever shave?" "First Monday after fool moon, otherwise no." "So I'm stuck with a lumberjack," she said then turned and saw his smile ready to land on her mouth. His lips were soft and his hand on her ass felt warm and she forgot the scratchy beard, bending backwards and holding on, because he was just so tall. "I'll shave, right now," he said, breaking the kiss, rocking her to the music. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down. "On second thought, I like my man rugged sometimes." "Yeah? Then how about." Mulder bent his knees and grabbed her waist. "No, wait!" Floor vanished from under her feet and she grabbed his shoulders for balance, laughing, and a second later she was sitting on the counter, next to buttermilk and flour, trapped between his arms. "Pancakes will burn," she warned. "No they won't," he said giving the pan a little stir and cranking down the burner. Then hands framing her cheeks, he kissed her for real, slow and sweet but building as she drew him in. "There's some frozen bagels in the freezer, if you want," he breathed finally, keeping his forehead pressed against hers. "Cream cheese?" "Obviously." "Didn't find any." "Has to be," he frowned and let go to rummage through the fridge, "I swear I bought it last time." Scully hopped off the table and turned the heat back up under the pan, while around her doors banged open and closed. "There you are! Fraternising with the mayo, huh?" She laughed and he was back, bumping her away from the stove. "These will need a minute," he said loading four bagels into the oven. "You're surprisingly apt in the kitchen." "Well, at some point, I told myself that it's time to stop living like a frat boy and start behaving like a man." He got up and pulled two mugs from the cupboard above the coffee machine. "What kind of man can't feed himself." "An average man." Mulder chuckled filling her mug then handed it to her. "Well, then I'm an alien." "You're a role model," she took the mug and watched him take a sip. "Damn, you make a fine cup of coffee," he grinned, pecked her cheek and went to get the paper.

"So this is what you do," she said looking at the book in her hands. "It's a hobby." "Nine hundred pages, quite an extensive hobby, "I Want To Believe. A Psychologist's Take." "Yeah, it's kind of hard, to put it all in one book and still do the subject justice." "What is it about?" "People's stories mostly, self-proclaimed alien abductees, cryptozoologists, conspiracy theorists, your average outcast." "And the psychologist's take?" "I wanted to give these people some background, explain why they need to believe what they believe in, why the world dismisses and ridicules them, how it affects their lives and why they keep doing it anyway. Some of them are dreamers, some are scared for their lives and some went through things so bizarre that it's almost impossible to imagine, unless you're Steven Spielberg, on crack." "This is the book Will was raving about all summer." "Must have found a copy at the library." "Can I borrow it?" "Keep it, I've got a box of them in the basement." "I bet you give a copy to every girlfriend." "No," he chuckled, "not really." She folded herself beside him on the couch and he took the book from her, opening it on the fist page and signing it with a flourish before giving it back. Scully glanced at the inscription. "Hey, it says William, I thought it was for me." "You get the author," he smiled and pulled her legs over his lap, toppling them over, mouth on hers again. "I really should be going," she said a good while later, flushed and warm, tangled with him in the cramped space, again. "Will needs his mom," he agreed, doing absolutely nothing to let go. "My mom," Scully whined and hid her face in his chest. "She always goes to see him after church, and she'll be there today and nag me about the foundation thing." "What foundation thing." "She wants me to look for a donor through a foundation, and what she means by it, is that we should pay someone off and get Will bumped up the waiting list." "Is that even legal?" "No, but that's my mom for you, lie, cheat and steal for those she loves." "You blame her?" "No, but I don't want to think about it, unless I have absolutely no other choice." "Let me know if I can help." "You already helped," he mumbled into his tee, pulling him closer and his arms tightened around her, solid and undemanding. "You're easy to please." Scully laughed and made herself let go. "Okay, time to face the day." "You go girl." He said and sat up with her. He watched her gather her things, pull on her boots and stash the book in her bag. "The dish, hold on." He went to the kitchen and met her at the door. "Thank you for dinner, and breakfast," he said leaning in to kiss her gently, "and everything in between." "We should do it again sometime." "I have these papers to grade," "And I have to face my mom and see my son," "But tonight," "Eight o'clock?" "Your place." "My place." "I'll bring food." "Good man." She smiled, climbing on tiptoes to kiss him one last time, at least for now.

She had a nice lunch with Will, who was thrilled about the book, stroking its' glossy sleeve and the UFO hovering above the trees on it. "It's sold out everywhere, how did you get it?" "Had to pull some strings." "I bet you did," Will grinned wickedly and pulled on the collar on her shirt, revealing a bright pink bruise on her skin. "You're too young to know about that." She said, feeling the blush creep in as she swatted his hand aside. "About what?" Will smiled and the smile changed before her eyes. She knew them all, grins and smirks and beams and pouts, but now, with that wicked glint in his eye. "It's signed!" He exclaimed, before she could pin the thought down. "C'mon, he's your professor." "I couldn't ask for an autograph, that's embarrassing." "Well, good thing your mother isn't as proud." "I have the best mom," he said in a sing-song voice, hugging her tight for a brief second. "Now leave me, I want to read this." "You're crazy," she laughed. "Yup," Will grinned and opened the book and began to read.

Mulder showed up at 8, with a bag of Thai takeout and a six-pack of Shiner. "Damn, you're hot," she said, pulling him inside and straight into her arms, feeling him fumble with the bags and not giving a damn. "And you shaved," she grinned a moment later. "Well, you asked so nicely," he said and pulled her back in. "Okay, food first," she laughed surfacing and pushing him away, uselessly. "Hmmm, I dunno," Mulder mused, hands starting to roam. "You trust me?" "Yeah," "Then food first." He sighed, keeping her in his arms. "Fine, how's Will?" "He's fine, loved the book." "Happy to hear that." He stole a kiss and only then let her go. "And he's totally onto us," she said, taking the bag from him. Mulder chuckled, shrugging out off his jacket and following her into the kitchen. "Smart kid."

"How did this happen?" Scully mused stretched out on Mulders' chest, stomach full and every fibre of her body relaxed. "What happened?" "I know that my life may fall apart, that my son is in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, fighting for his life," she said, laying down her head on his shoulder, "but you make it all bearable, for the first time in weeks, I don't feel like I'm drowning." "I live to serve," he whispered, stroking her hair. "You'll get through this, both of you." "Can you promise me that?" "No, but I can help you believe." He said, completely honest and it was exactly what she needed to hear. "Will you stay tonight?" "I've got class at 10." "And I need to be at the hospital around 9." "So, what are we going to do with all that time?" "We'll think of something," she said and puled herself up to reach his mouth. Her last thought was that, between him and Will, she might need a longer couch.

The next morning, Scully sat in her car, waving Mulder goodbye as he drove off, when her phone pinged with an email notification.

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: URGENT good news Dr. Scully We need to talk. Meet me ASAP. Walter

She pulled out from the parking spot and all but stomped on the gas pedal.

#generous donation #x files fanfic #au #sweet nothings

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parkaiur · 5 years

Text

[Real]istic Fiction - Mashiho

❀ Fluff + comedy ft. brother!Junkyu

❀ Word Count: 8.8 K

❀ After getting your first F on a creative writing assignment, and your first F EVER, you start to lose confidence in your writing abilities. Thankfully, your professor gives you one more shot, but this time, you can’t write something you’re comfortable with, leaving you with more and more insecurities about your writing. Soon your brother and best friend launch Operation: [Real]istic Fiction, or also called Operation: Making the boy in your creative writing class fall in love with you... but that’s too long. As the week goes on and you start to become less and less like yourself; you start to wonder if the boy you’re seducing is really the one you like... and why does your heart beat a bit faster when you see your best friend?

❀ dedicated to all the fanfiction writers out there ♡

❀ A/N: this was written with all the fanfiction writers in mind :) and also this particular character resonates with me a lot since im (obviously) a fanfiction writer myself and there’s lots of prejudice surrounding it & sometimes it can affect me,, not only with the prejudice but with the pressure from the expectations :( and sometimes it’s hard for me to write about something ive never experienced or never felt comfortable with... hmmm /sigh/ i wish i had a mashiho and junkyu and all of the other characters in here hehe,, no spoils :0

i hope you guys enjoy this one because i really enjoyed writing it!

-------

“F?!?! I got an F?!”

I shouted in my seat, feeling anger run through my veins. My professor looked at me with a pitiful, yet stern face.

“Y/N, I’m open to discussing grades after class. Come meet me if you have the time.” She whipped her head around and ignored me once again, leaving me to feel hopeless and lost at the terrible grade.

No, it’s not like I was the best student. I got some A’s, but got mostly B’s and C’s, especially in my first quarter at college, but I wasn’t an F student. This was one of the biggest essays of this quarter and I could NOT let this tank my whole grade.

Creative writing was one of the only classes I felt confident in, and at this grade, I felt like a total loser and jipped of something people always told me I was good at. I was one of the most popular fanfiction writers online and to receive a grade as bad as this was embarrassing!

“Class is over, talk to me if you have questions about the essay or grade.”

“It’s okay, y/n, Irene is a tough cookie. She is probably just doing this to push you.” My classmate, Byounggon told me. I nodded and tightened the straps on my backpack to release my anger. I tightened them, and loosened them, something I did when I was nervous.

Byounggon was three years older than me, so I decided to put my trust in him. “I hope you’re right or else I’m going to tear out all my hair.” I said dramatically as he let out a bark of laughter.

“See you later, kid.” I waved him off as I stormed over to Irene’s desk.

“An F...” I trailed off, wiggling my fingers at her. She scoffed and took a look at my paper. “You told me I was an amazing writer when we did timed writing in class, how could this be? Is this a mistake?” I shot questions at her as she adjusted her glasses calmly.

Even looking at her made me angry.

She sighed and cleaned her desk with a serene face. “Y/n, you’re an amazing writer yes, and to be honest, I was very disappointed with your writing for this short story.” I furrowed my brows and looked at my writing. It wasn’t a big difference from what I wrote in class, how could it be so bad?

“Can I ask how? It has no comments on here.” The professor sighed and didn’t look at me as she talked to me, twiddling a pencil in her hands.

I grew impatient at her actions as I still had lots of homework to do. “Y/n, this is plagiarism. It was ungradable.”

My eyes widened at her profound accusation. “Excuse me?” I spat.

She then locked eyes with me and looked at me tiredly. “Y/n, you used characters from a book that was already written. That’s plagiarism-”

“No! That’s not, yes, these characters have names already, but I gave them a new life, a new personality, a new story!” Irene patted me on the shoulder.

“Honey, fanfiction is not professional. I’m sorry, but my word is final.”

I felt tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I couldn’t cry in front of her. She noticed my sad mood and sighed. “Ok, here’s the deal. I wouldn’t offer this to lots of people, but I know your potential.”

I nodded quickly, my hair whipping in my face.

“I’ll give you til’ next Monday. A week and a couple of days to write a new story for me. A real one, with your ideas- not fanfiction. Got it?” I nodded furiously. “Ok, I trust you, don’t let me down!”

I scurried out of her classroom, my tears finally falling in anger. I wiped them away.

“Woah, woah, woah, why are you crying? Are you okay?”

At the familiar voice, I sobbed harder and fell onto the boy’s broad chest. “Woah there,” he exclaimed. He rubbed my back and patted my head slowly even though he didn’t know the situation.

“Mashiho.” I whined softly. He sighed and hugged me tighter. I loved hugging Mashiho, he felt so firm and buff. Even though he was on the shorter side, he felt manly whenever I held him.

He pulled away and looked at me in the eyes. “Y/n...” He tried not to laugh at my crying face. I slapped him lightly on the cheeks. He gasped and started to laugh.

“Stop laughing!!” I cried harder at his teasing face. His face turned serious and he wiped my tears. “Ok, ok, tell Mashi what’s wrong.” I sniffled and wiped my tears on his sleeve.

“Professor Bae gave me an F on my short story!” At my announcement, I cried harder onto his shoulder. People in the courtyard stared at us, but I didn’t care at the moment. I had worse things going on in my life.

“Look, tell me more about it at the dorm, c’mon.” He picked me up and I just held onto him like a baby.

My dorm was a 10 minute walk from campus, but Mashiho got me there in 8. I guess it helped to work out.

“Y/n, we need to climb the stairs now.” I nodded and ran up the stairs with him, not wanting my dorm mates to see me.

Mashiho and I had been best friends since he moved here from Japan in our sophomore of high school. I was quite the introvert and hated to talk to people on top of that. I was constantly annoyed and hated to converse with my peers.

Mashiho and I clicked immediately as he was persistent on becoming my friend, the moody girl in his biology class.

I used to like Mashiho when we first met. He was that nice guy. And a pretty one at that. All the girls talked about him, fawning over his good looks and nice body, and a kind personality on top of all that. I almost felt proud that I was the one he talked to everyday. That I was the one he talked to about his problems, his concerns, and his good days.

I thought he didn’t take interest in those other girls until he told me he liked a girl in our biology class a few months later. They were dating the next day.

And I never liked him again. It was one of those fleeting crushes that wasn’t really a real love.

I’d never been in love.

“Hello? Y/n?” Mashiho’s hand fluttered over my face. “Open the door?” I sniffled and unlocked it. I immediately ran in and plopped on my bed.

I let out small cries and sobs into my pillow, feeling the anger and sadness leave my body. The bed shifted and Mashi laid next to me, pulling me close to him.

“Woah, not too close!” My eyes shot open and I looked to my right.

“Junkyu!? What are you doing here?!” My older brother laughed and dangled keys in front of me.

“I’m chilling in your dorm, duh. I was getting bored.” He lifted the keys again. “Oh yeah, I stole your keys and made a copy of them.” I groaned and laid back on my bed. Mashiho rubbed my back in soothing patterns.

Junkyu was one year older than me and unfortunately, the only college that accepted me was the one he went to. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, but comparing me and him, he was the one everybody loved. I was the one everyone tolerated.

“Hey dude, how was class?” Junkyu asked Mashiho. The younger boy shrugged.

“Alright, much more interesting after y/n came running into my arms sobbing.” I flicked him on the forehead and he scooted down to hug me. “I’m joking.” He said softly, making my heart race.

“What?? Why are you crying y/n??” Junkyu cried, jumping onto my bed. Oh great, the dorm beds barely fit one person, now there were three.

“Irene gave me an F on my short story because she said it was plagiarism! How dare she! I’ve been writing fanfiction my entire life, and never once has anyone told me that what I was writing was wrong!” I shouted into my pillow. I felt the both of them pat me on the head, soothing my anger. But it just made me more angry. I shooed their hands away and shot up.

“y/n, I mean, how did you think writing fanfiction was going to go in your class?” Junkyu said carefully. I could see Mashi shaking his head at him. I pushed Junkyu off my bed and hugged Mashiho tighter.

“Ow, you dick-” Mashiho pushed Junkyu and shooed him away.

“What he means y/n, is that did your professor tell you if you can make up the grade?” Mashiho said while patting my head. I always felt calmer in his hands.

I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, she told me I could rewrite a whole new short story by next Monday, then she would give me the credit on however I wrote that.” The two boy’s shot up.

“Oh my God, y/n, that’s amazing! You can do that, one hundred percent!” Junkyu slapped my back which made me yelp. Mashiho laughed and immediately soothed it. “What he said, without the slap.” I glared at Junkyu and laid back down.

These boys wouldn’t understand, they’ve been in love twice. They didn’t have the same problem as me.

I sighed loudly which didn’t go unnoticed to Mashiho’s ears. “What’s bothering you?” He stared at me with his big doe eyes, and I know I couldn’t lie to him. I leaned against my wall and stared at the two of them.

“I just... I just can’t write ‘real’ stories. It feels weird to me... Like I get writing for characters that already exist because I can see their love.” I sighed loudly. “I’ve never been in love, so I don’t know how to write it. It’s hard for me to show my emotions and be so vulnerable.” I whined.

The two boys were silent at my confession, which made me nervous. The silence was cut by my annoying older brother.

He laughed and stared at me like it was obvious. “What?” I snapped.

He laughed again. “It’s obvious.” Mashiho looked at Junkyu in confusion.

“What?” Mashiho asked. Junkyu sighed and stood up. He grabbed a whiteboard.

“It’s easy. You need to fall in love.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Mashiho and I stared at the older boy with bug eyes.

“What the fuck?”

Junkyu sighed and started to write something down. “Seriously! You just need to fall in love and then you can write your story. You said that you have never been in love so you never have felt vulnerable or weak in that sense, so you need to get yourself to experience it. It’s simple.”

I exchanged glances with Mashiho who was staring dumbly at the wall.

I wiggled my nose and stared into my brother’s eyes. “Ok... you know, when you say it that way, it kinda makes sense. I just need more experiences.” Junkyu clapped his hands.

“YES! Experiences, you just need to put yourself out there a little bit. Everyone knows you as that weird writer chick who likes to read and plot everyone’s murder, so you need to try and break out of that! Like go to parties, flirt with boys, I don’t know, wear revealing clothes...”

Junkyu trailed off and wrote something on the board. “We’ll call it Operation: Realistic Fiction. Brackets over the Real because this will be your fiction novel, and it’ll very much be real. You get to be the protagonist this time!” He said cheerfully. I glanced over to Mashiho who was boredly tossing a ball against my bed.

“What do you think, Mashi?” I asked with a soft voice, twiddling my fingers round and round.

His approval meant a lot to me, and I don’t think I could go through with this whacky plan without it.

The boy locked in my eyes with cold eyes that I almost fell back. But then he smiled, a familiar Mashiho smile. “It sounds crazy, but I think it has good aspects.” Junkyu squealed and hugged the boy.

“Great! It’s a go, now, let’s think of boys that I think are a good fit for you.”

He jotted down a name. “Yoonbin?” I cringed and scooted away. “Hell no, too emo and angsty for me.” Mashiho nodded in agreement. Junkyu crossed off the name.

“Ok, um, how about Jihoon?” I shook my head.

“No, no, he’s a little... too much for me.” Junkyu nodded and crossed his name off. He then thought long and hard and wrote a name down quickly.

“How about Byounggon hyung? He’s charming, nice, sweet, funny, handsome, smart, and easy to talk to.” Junkyu went on and on about him. “He’s a perfect fit for you, he’s like one of those boys in those cheesy books you read!”

I blushed and twiddled my thumbs. Byounggon was a really nice guy and he was easy to talk to. And him being in my creative writing class would help a lot.

I bit my lip and twirled my hair in my finger. “You’re right, Junkyu. Byounggon would be a perfect guy to fall in love with.” The two boys high-fived, and suddenly I had no choice.

I saw Mashiho’s happy smile when Byounggon’s name was announced, making me lose hope that maybe Mashiho wouldn’t want me to go through with this plan.

“Ok, fine, operation, fall in love with Byounggon. And have him fall in love with me?” I questioned.

The two boys nodded.

“Good, now, the planning. We only have one week to do this, we have to start planning now!

❀ ❀ ❀

Junkyu left my dorm after two hours of planning, which made my head throb in pain.

“My brother is dumb and smart at the same time.” Mashiho nodded and pulled some apple juice out of my fridge.

“That he is. But are you sure about this? You’re kind of... shy and uhhh aggressive.” He noted. I rolled my eyes and sipped out of his cup, the apple juice giving me some sugar.

“I’m sure. I need to put myself out there, plus, Byounggon is nice, even if this doesn’t work out, he’ll still be my friend. But, with Junkyu’s help, I think it could possibly... work.” I said with a hopeful tone. Mashiho snorted at my voice. “What’s so funny?” I glared.

The boy said nothing and just shrugged. “Nothing. You hungry?” I nodded as he threw me a ham and cheese sandwich that was in my fridge. I caught with ease as he took the tuna.

“How was your day? You didn’t say much.” I asked him. He shrugged and munched on his sandwich.

“Nothing that exciting. Nothing too bad. I mean, some girls asked me for my numbers, but that’s it.” I rolled my eyes and bit my sandwich angrily.

“Wow, you say that say calmly. If a boy asked me for my number, I would faint.” Mashiho laughed and took a sip of juice.

“No you wouldn’t, it’s not that crazy.” For you, I wanted to say. Mashiho was always being followed by girls and I’ll admit, I liked it when he ignored them for me. Mashiho was still my best friend despite having so many admirers.

I tossed my napkin away and sat back down. Before I could say anything, I heard my door open, signaling the arrival of my roomie.

She was with her boyfriend who was walking her in. “Hey, y/n, hey, hot boy.” She winked at Mashiho as soon as her boyfriend left. Mashiho gave her an awkward smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey Jessica.”

Jessica was always trying to get with Mashiho. I somewhat think she’s joking, but sometimes I don’t.

“Um, I’d better go now, that calculus homework won’t do itself.” Jessica laughed and waved to him.

“Bye, Mashi~” She cooed. I resisted the urge to barf.

He waved to the girl and then to me. “Later, Mashiho.”

“Later.”

Then he left.

“Ugh, he’s so hot, how haven’t you guys hooked up already?” I choked wildly on my apple juice. “Like forreals, have you seen that boy? Yum.” I rolled my eyes and hid my blush.

“We are just friends, Jessica. Nothing more, nothing less.” I narrowed my eyes at her and she backed away, holding her arms up.

“Fine, fine, I’ll back down.”

I bit my lip, wondering to tell her about Byounggon. Jessica wasn’t the smartest person, but she was good at getting boys. This was her third boyfriend since getting into college. And we started school in August. It was January.

And that was not counting her multiple flings inbetween.

“Um, I actually like this boy named Byounggon.” Her eyes widened and she tossed her lolipop she was fiddling in her mouth.

I cringed at her intense gaze. “Really? I mean, Byounggon is hot, but I always thought you had the hots for Mashiho. Anyways, good for you!” She cheered, patting me on the shoulder.

I shook as she patted me harshly. I cleared my throat, “Um, would it be bad if I started to borrow your clothes too? Like with your permission of course.”

She paused what she was doing and stared at me with her intense cat eyes. “Dude... of course. What the fuck, take anything you want as long as you give it back. Show him what he needs, rawr!”

I hoped I wouldn’t regret this.

❀ ❀ ❀

1. You must talk to him, initiating conversation shows that you’re interested.

I looked at the notes Junkyu typed in my phone and took a deep breath. You can do this, y/n. I walked into my creative writing class and saw Byounggon already sitting there, playing on his phone with his hood up.

I carefully took the seat next to him, and smiled at him. He glanced up at his phone and smiled back.

I wiped my palms on my jeans as I prepared myself for the conversation.

“Hey, Byounggon, how was your day today?” I asked kindly. The boy set down his phone and thought about it for a while. “Hmmm, good question. I would probably say pretty good so far. How ‘bout you?”

I noticed his soft smile and kind eyes as he said those words. Is it working? How will I know if it’s working?

I bit my lip, searching for a cute answer. “Um, not too shabby. Better now that I’m in this class.” I said honestly. I liked this class a lot, despite my grade falling drastically at the F. I mean, I could improve it by writing my short story, so I tried to stay positive.

Byounggon smiled and twiddled his pencil. “Oh really, what makes you like it so much?” He gave me a taunting smile as I didn’t know what to say. Shit, flirting wasn’t this early.. what do I do?

Suddenly, I heard a bunch of papers slam on the desk. “Ok class, get ready to write!”

Phew, saved by Irene.

❀ ❀ ❀

“How’d it go?” Mashiho asked. I grumbled as I took a harsh bite of my apple.

“I don’t know! Um, so basically I told him that I liked our creative writing class and then he was like ‘what makes you like it so much’ and I think he wanted me to say he was the reason?? Am I wrong?” I practically yelled at Mashiho.

The boy chuckled and set me down gently. “Yes, that’s what he wanted. That means you’re doing great, y/n. See? Boys like you.” He ruffled my hair, then his phone started to ring.

“Hello?” He answered quickly. “Um, yeah, I’m free, what’s up?” I felt kind of hurt that he said he was free since we were hanging out. But I guess we see each other every single day. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

He hung up the phone and gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, um, I have to go now.” He said, slipping on his shoes.

I bite my apple once more.“What for?”

He sighed and slipped on his jacket in a frenzy. “Um, this girl I’ve been seeing, she just asked me to have lunch so... yeah.”

I nodded and gave him a thumbs up.“Cool, cool, have fun! Wear protection.” He rolled his eyes and flicked me on the arm.

“Whatever, weirdo. See you later, prepare for tomorrow!” I nodded forcefully and closed the door, trying not to let my sudden aching heart get in the way of Operation: [Real]istic Fiction.

❀ ❀ ❀

2. You must compliment him. Guys LOVE to be complimented and it also shows that you’re interested. Make sure you seem really interested in what you’re complimenting so that he knows it’s not just you being nice. Be deliberate.

I sat down, earlier than Byounggon today and prepared a compliment. He walked in with a black hoodie and black jeans. His earrings were in today, and I had to admit, he looked good.

Really good.

“Hey, I really like your earrings, they look cool.” I complimented as sincerely as I could. The boy fiddled with his earrings and smiled. “Thanks, dude. I just got these.”

They dangled down and wiggled as he kept moving his face. I’ll admit it, I like guys with piercings. “Nice pick.”

He nodded and gave me another dimpled smile.

The professor walked in, cutting our conversation short. “I like your earrings too, they’re cute.” He whispered in my ear.

I blushed at the proximity but smiled back.

Score.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Uh, I complimented his earrings today. I mean, he did look really good today. Like, really good. Like, I was about to drool in my seat dude.” I babbled to Mashiho.

We were in the courtyard today, away from all the people. It was a slow Tuesday thing. He picked at his fries, not really paying attention to me.

“Um, hello? Mashiho? Mashi?” I waved my hands in front of his face. He peered up at me with bored eyes. I sighed and took a bite of my salad. “What? Did I not compliment him, right?” I said in a small voice. I was terrified of messing this up, terrified!

Mashiho then pushed his fries away and stood up. “You’re doing just fine, y/n. He’ll be in love before you know it.” I furrowed my brows as he started to put on his shoes and jacket.

“W-where are you going?” I asked quickly.

Mashiho sighed. “Another date, sorry. See you tomorrow?” I nodded furiously, trying not to feeling emotional at his departure.

As he turned away, I let them fall freely. I rubbed them, wondering why he was leaving me for other girls all the time.

Did he not care for me anymore?

I sighed and picked up my lunch to throw it away.

Whatever, it’s not like I like him anyways.

❀ ❀ ❀

3. Openly state how single you are: dropping your single state will definitely be a BIG hint that you’re interested. It’ll show that you’re available and I already know Byounggon is available, so you don’t have to worry about that part.

I walked into class and saw Byounggon playing on his phone like usual.

As I walked towards him, he looked up at me and smiled. “Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He said first. He initiated conversation, that’s a good sign.

I sat down and pulled out my journals, casually of course. “Nothing much, umm...” I thought of what to say that would make me seem single. “Oh, well kind of in a bad mood.” He furrowed his brows together in concern.

“Aw, why?”I gulped and bit my lip. “Um, because last night my room mate Jessica and her boyfriend were being super lovey dovey in my living room and it was just disgusting. I cannot handle couples, especially when I’m single.” I lied.

Byounggon then gave me a confused look, making me nervous. “Huh.” He finally said.

That doesn’t sound too good.

“Huh what?” I asked to further understand his concerns.

Byounggon shrugged and tilted his head like he was unsure of himself. “Oh, it’s just I thought you were dating Mashiho.”

I stopped moving for a couple of seconds until I burst out into nervous laughter.

“What? Mashiho and I? No!! Never, we’re just friends, pfft.” I said quickly, rambling off random words.

Byounggon raised a brow and leaned back in his chair. “Mashiho is also dating someone right now so... yeah that would be awkward if we were dating as well.” I joked, hoping he got the point.

Byounggon gave me a sad look. “Well, I’m sorry.”

“S-sorry for what?”

Byounggon looked at me with a serious stare. “Uh, because you like Mashiho, right?”

I froze at his words, stopping every movement I was making.

My mind went numb at his accusation and I didn’t know what to say.

“What? No! I don’t like Mashiho, that would be so weird. He’s my best friend, only my best friend. Just friends, you know? Buddies, bros, best buds...” I trailed off, realizing how stupid I was sounding.

I looked over to Byounggon who was giving me a tight smile.

“One more synonym and I’ll believe you.”

❀ ❀ ❀

“So, what did you guys talk today?” Mashiho stuffed his faced with a bunch of chips as we were chilling in my dorm room again.

This time, Junkyu was with us. “Yeah, how was the whole announcing of the single thing? Tell us everything!” I bit my lip as they waited in anticipation.

“U-um…” I trailed off. “Basically I told him that I was annoyed of Jessica and her boyfriend canoolding on the couch and how it was even grosser since I was single.” I noted quickly, not mentioning the whole Mashiho thing.

Junkyu clapped his hands together. “Good! He got the message then, now, tomorrow and the day after, it’s your turn to make him notice you!”

Junkyu brought out the clipboard again and pointed to trick number 4.

“Number four: wear revealing clothes. Guys are dogs, they obviously like seeing some skin, especially when a girl rarely shows it.”

Junkyu looked at me who was wearing a flannel over one of my t-shirts and blue jeans. I frowned.

“How much skin are we talking about? Y/n can’t just stroll in half naked to school.” Mashiho argued, finally saying something this entire day.

Junkyu smiled which made me worry. “But she can.” Junkyu pulled out random outfits that came out of nowhere.

“Where did you get those?” I snapped.

“Jessica. She gave these to me before she went to class, telling me you were asking for some new clothes.” Junkyu wiggled his eyebrows as I blushed beet red.

I looked over to Mashiho who was staring at the pile of clothes.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”I brought the pile of clothes into the bathroom, staring at the crop top and high-waisted skirt that would barely cover my butt. I was a bit taller than Jessica, meaning it would probably skim my upper thighs.

I gulped when I slipped on the shirt first, which showed lots of my stomach and cleavage. The skirt wasn’t as short as I imagined, but if I walked too far, I might be in trouble.

“Are you done yet?! Hurry up, we don’t have all day!” Junkyu shouted.

I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

The boys both stared at me in silence, wondering if I had put something on wrong.

“Bro… you’re going to steal Byounggon’s heart, he’s going to have a heart attack.” Junkyu said hugging me. I looked over to Mashiho who was watching me with a strong gaze. It was a way he had never looked at me before, which made me nervous.

“What? You think it’s too much, Mashi?” I asked, twirling for him to see. He stared at me, lowering his eyes to examine my full body. I blushed at his intense stare.

“Woah, there, that’s a lil’ much.” Junkyu said, patting Mashiho on the back. The younger boy grunted and lightly shoved the older boy away, only locking eyes with me. “Well, I gotta go right now, Yoonbin just told me that he lost his suit pants for the wedding he’s going to this weekend. Bye, have fun kids.”

Junkyu got up and left right away, leaving me alone with Mashiho.

It was awkward... and we didn’t ever get awkward.

“What? You don’t like the outfits?” I mumbled, staring down at chest that was widely shown in the shirt. Mashiho licked his lips, which sent chills down my spine.

He didn’t respond, showing he was irritated by something else. I bit my lip, thinking of what to say. “How’s it going with that girl? Anything new?”

Mashihho ran this fingers through his curly hair and shrugged. “Not really, it wasn’t really going anywhere. Turns out she only liked me for who she thought I was and not who I really am.”

I frowned and patted him on the back, trying to ignore how happy I felt at that situation.

Why do I feel happy? I should be feeling bad for him right now. You idiot, y/n.

“Aw, that’s sucks, hopefully, the next girl will see you for who you really are.”

Mashiho shrugged and looked to me with an intense stare, like he was trying to tell me something. He then stood up and paced around the room.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you right now. This whole Byounggon thing is sort of freaking me out. He’s only starting to like you because all of these things you’re doing. This whole caked on makeup thing and flirting thing and bubbly, giggly thing and now this revealing outfit? This isn’t you, y/n.”

He wasn’t yelling yet, Mashiho didn’t yell when he was angry, but this was the most passionate I’ve seen him.

But it got me angry.

The plan has been going smoothly ‘til now. Just when Byoungon is starting to flirt with me, Mashiho backs out.

“Why are you telling me this now? It’s already too late, I’m committed. And so what? I mean, this plan is helping me get the guy since no other guys seemed to like me before this!” I yelled angrily, fiddling with the top that seemed so out of place right now.

“Bullshit, you don’t need to change yourself because of a guy, this isn’t some cheesy teen girl book where the guy starts to fall in love with your real personality, Byounggon is only falling for the girl he thinks you are! You're going get to get hurt!”

Mashiho cried out, clenching his fists to control his anger.

“So what if I get hurt? Isn’t that what happens when you’re in love? Pain? Jealousy? All those ugly emotions? I need those emotions for my story, Mashiho! I need to experience these things like a normal college student!”

His broad chest was moving up and down as he tried to pull himself together. Usually I would start to calm him down, but I had no time for it. I wanted my answers.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He whispered.

I plucked a stray hair off my shirt, trying to hide my tears. “Well, too late.”

Mashiho didn’t respond, leaving my dorm room, and leaving me with my distorted thoughts.

❀ ❀ ❀

4. Wear revealing clothes, show some skin sister ;) Guys are dogs, they obviously like seeing some skin, especially when a girl rarely shows it. Make him go crazy.

I felt uncomfortable in every way possible.

I’d gotten whistled at about 10 times and I’ve only been on campus for 2 hours. Disgusting.

I poked my head into my creative writing class and saw Byounggon already sitting there. I stuck my head back out and took deep breaths.

You can do this, you can do this, prove to Mashiho that you can do this.

I walked in the class, trying not to fiddle with my crop top or pull down my skirt. Byounggon glanced up at me, and then did a double take. He looked up at my face and I felt awkward as he examined the makeup Jessica put on my face.

“Woah.” Byounggon said with an unsure voice. That gave me some confidence.

“Woah what?” I teased, making my voice higher than it already was. I felt gross.

The boy raised a brow and scanned me up and down. “Woah this. New wardrobe? Did you win the lottery or something?” I chuckled and brushed my curled hair over my shoulder, hoping he could smell my perfume.

This isn’t you, y/n.

I pushed Mashiho’s voice out of my mind.

“Hah, no, I just wanted to switch it up I guess. Why? You like it?” I leaned in closer to him as he stared at me with dark eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

He was about to say something else until Irene walked in.

Damn, I really wanted to hear more compliments.

❀ ❀ ❀

After class, I stood to leave first, but Byounggon grabbed ahold of my hand. I tried not to look surprised.

“Hey, uh, my friend is hosting a party this Friday night, wanna come?” I hid my surprise with a gasp and chuckled, girly like how Junkyu told me.

“Oh sure, that’ll be so fun! Who’s hosting?”

“Kim Seunghun, his parties are always wild. It’s off campus, I’ll come pick you up at ten.” As he finished those words, he walked out of class, leaving my mind in jumbles.

I followed shortly after him, but was stopped.

I paused and saw Mashiho staring at me with sad eyes.

“Got what you wanted?” He spat. I felt my earlier happiness turn into anger at his words.

“Yes.”

“Ok, good.”

“Good.”

I walked past him, deliberately not looking back to see his expression.

❀ ❀ ❀

5. Ignore him. Let him want you. Guys like the push and the pull.

note: since you’re going to a party with him later, that’s when you get to be all over him.

It was the last day of the project.

I was wearing tight jeans and a low-cut blouse. I felt awkward as my shirt kept slipping down, but I had to power through. It was the last day of Operation: [Real]istic Fiction.

I took a seat next Byounggon, not even sparing a glance as I sat down.

Be cold, be pretty, make him want you.

I heard Junkyu’s voice echoing in my mind, egging me on.

“Hey, y/n.” I heard the boy say. It took every ounce of self-control I had to not reply with a cheery answer.

“Hi.” I responded coldly. I could tell Byoungon was confused. I guess that should be a good sign?

The boy shifted in his chair, already uncomfortable at my behavior. “Um, how’s that story going? It’s due on Monday, right?”

I thought about how to respond to his question. I simply shrugged and dragged my hair over to one side. “It’s ok.”

I hated myself right now.

I tried not to let Mashiho’s voice of doubt run through my mind.

Byounggon sighed and leaned back in his chair. I could hear him tapping his pen on the table rapidly. “Ok, you still on for tonight?”

I finally looked back at him and nodded with a light smile. “Definitely.”

He gave me a dimpled one back.

“Cool.”

❀ ❀ ❀

“What do you wear to a party?! Should I wear a dress?! Pants and a t-shirt?! WHAT?!” I screamed, looking at my bland closet.

Junkyu groaned and got up from his chair. As I got done with classes, I immediately called Junkyu to help with my fashion dilemma.

“Ugh, Mashiho is better with fashion, why didn’t you call him?” Junkyu sassed.

No, I did not tell Junkyu I was fighting with Mashiho. Was I going to tell him? Probably not.

He always took Mashiho’s side when we were arguing anyways. And he wouldn’t understand this argument.

“Because you’re my brother, anyways--”

Before I could finish, Junkyu pulled out an outfit and threw it at me. “Try this on.”

About 10 outfits later, I told Junkyu to sit down and I would do this myself.

“I told you, call Mashi, he’s better.” Junkyu whined while laying on my bed. I bit my lip and ignored him, not wanting to let down my pride and call him. Mashiho would probably just tell me to go in a t-shirt and put on a leather jacket with some skinnies or something. No matter how hot that would be, I had to dress a bit girly tonight to impress Byounggon.

Mashiho wouldn’t understand, he looks good in everything he wore.

“I’ll just wear this, and be done with this.” I grumbled, slipping on some leather type pants Jessica owned with a crop top. It was cool and funky as well as sexy.

“OOF, I should not let my baby sister walk out like that... but I’m going to... because I’m a good brother who wants her to have love.”

Junkyu pretended to wipe a tear away and pretend-sobbed on my bed, leaving me to roll my eyes at him and do my makeup. I wasn’t an expert, but I had the basics down. I decided to leave my hair straight as it fit with the outfit.

“Y/n, it’s almost ten, Byounggon is gonna be here soon~” My older brother wiggled his brows at me as I pushed him aside. “And yes, you’ll be gone when he comes.”

After I said those words, I ushered Junkyu out of the door while he protested.

“Text me when you leave, when you get to the party, when you leave the party, and when you get home! I’m still your big bro you know.” He gave me a serious stare, one he reserved to try and intimidate me. It never worked.

I sighed and patted him on the back. “Ok, ok, just go, he’ll be here any minute now.” I said nervously. My palms were sweaty and I applied extra perfume to make sure I wouldn’t smell bad.

Just as Junkyu left, I heard a knock on my door. I shot out of my seat and gave myself a glance over before I opened the door.

Byounggon was standing there, looking spiffy in a tight, black, long-sleeve and black skinnies, but adorned with a couple necklaces and rings.

He gave me a quick smile when he saw me.

“Hey, you look good.” He said immediately. I blushed and tried my best to act girly.

“Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself.” I teased while stepping out of the door.

We walked downstairs together and that’s when I realized:

I had never gone to a party before.

❀ ❀ ❀

The party was rowdier than I expected.

I had always listened to music about parties and having fun, but it was nowhere as crazy as I imagined. The loud music was attacking my senses and the weed and alcohol upset my stomach. I tried not to make a face when Byounggon looked over at me.

“You good?” I nodded vigorously, trying not to let my disgust and anxiety show. I took tiny steps with him as we made our way through the huge crowd of people. There was strobe lights everywhere and alcohol on the floor.

It was a mess.

I felt my heart beat pick up as I felt myself being shoved through the crowd. I wasn’t used to being around so many people and now that I was experiencing it, I just wanted to be alone.

Soon, we got out of the big crowd and to the makeshift bar area, aka, Seunghun’s kitchen.

“Hey, Seunghun!” Byounggon yelled over to the tall brunette who was taking a body shot off a girl. Disgusting.

Seunghun popped his head up and immediately did that bro shake with Byounggon. “Hey, dude! Didn’t know you were bringing a date!” Seunghun turned his attention over to me and pulled me in for a hug. I felt uncomfortable with the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Yah, it was sorta last minute.” Seunghun wiggled his eyebrows and pointed over to the alcohol.

“Cool, well she’s hot so it’s all good. A little nerdy but that’s your type right?” I felt my cheeks burn at his words. I had been trying to shed the image of my nerdy self this whole week and yet it still was like I had “bookworm” tattooed across my forehead.

Byounggon wrapped an arm around me. “Hey, dude, don’t be an ass.” He lightly reprimanded. I tried not to let Seunghun’s words affect me, I mean he was super drunk.

Seunghun’s eyes widened. “Oh no no, that wasn’t an insult. It’s a compliment, refreshing I would say. Like a refreshment LOL.” I tried not to cringe as he said the acronym out loud. Then, he tilted his head, “It’s just weird that you brought a date though. I thought you had a thing with-”

Byounggon’s body stiffened but I didn’t get to hear the rest of the statement when Seunghun was dragged away by someone else, probably going to take another body shot.

“Sorry about that, Seunghun is an absolute dumbass when he’s drunk. He’s only a little bit of a dumbass when he’s sober.” I let out soft laughter, but I could barely hear Byounggon over the loud music and intense yelling. I hated every second I was here.

My tenseness didn’t go unnoticed by Byounggon. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

I nodded rushedly, before I could lose my confidence. “I’m fine!” I replied lamely. I couldn’t flirt with him, I couldn’t do anything with this obnoxious atmosphere.

Byounggon gave me a tight smile and held out his hand. “Let’s dance!”

❀ ❀ ❀

I hated dancing. And being on the dancefloor. And feeling other people’s bodies on mine.

It was awful. I felt so cramped and I couldn’t even relax to have a good time.

Byounggon on the other hand was an amazing dancer, I couldn’t even compare to him. The only time I liked dancing was when I was having impromptu dance parties with Mashiho. Mashiho was the only person besides my brother that I could let down my guard with.

Byounggon grabbed my hands, trying to get me to dance and to have fun. But I couldn’t focus on anything besides the people around me and how cramped and dirty I felt.

I could see Byounggon stop losing interest in me.

“He’s only starting to like you because all of these things you’re doing. This whole caked on makeup thing and flirting thing and bubbly, giggly thing and now this revealing outfit? This isn’t you, y/n”

I was wrong. Mashiho was right.

I can’t do this, this isn’t me.

I looked up from the dancefloor and saw something I never wanted to see. Mashiho was there, dancing with another girl, totally into her. His eyes were bright and happy, I knew he was having a good time. I could always tell what his emotions were. He spun the girl around as she laughed, her skirt twirling in the sea of people.

I was jealous.

Really jealous.

Jealous of the time they were having.

Jealous I couldn’t be as carefree as that girl.

Jealous that I wasn’t that girl.

“Y/n, y/n?” Byounggon’s shout snapped me out of a trance. I looked up at him with blurry eyes. “Are you ok?”

I stood still for a moment, confusing those around me.

I took one more glance at Mashiho who was still dancing with that girl and as he leaned in closer to her, I looked away.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

Then, I ran.

I ran out of the house as soon as possible, running at a pace I didn’t know I was capable of. I ignored Byounggon’s shout for me to stay, but I had to leave--I had to get out of there.

Only barfers were outside as I dashed past them, careful not to step on anything gross. I made my way down the block and crouched down, feeling the worst I’ve ever felt in my life.

This was the pain everyone talked about.

The pain you get when you try so hard to fit in and you just don’t. The pain you get when you’re not somebody you want to be.

The pain you get when you love someone so much and they don’t love you back.

And that pain wasn’t from Byounggon, but from someone I didn’t know I’ve loved for most of my life.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

“Jessica? I need a ride.”

❀ ❀ ❀

I knew Jessica wouldn’t ask questions. If another girl calls you to run away from her date, there’s only bad news involved.

Seunghun’s house wasn’t that far from campus, so we got home pretty quickly.

“I brought home fried chicken, I know that’s your favorite.” Jessica noted in a high voice, her tone more delicate than usual. I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. I just need sleep.”

I looked at my phone once and saw floods of messages. Mostly from Byounggon, asking where I went and that he was sorry.

And then five from Junkyu, messaging me about how bored he was.

None from Mashiho.

I laid in my bed, looking at the time. It was only 11:10. I hadn’t even been in that place for an hour.

“Are you going to sleep?” Jessica asked, about to turn off the lights.

I looked up at my ceiling.

Then, I said the most y/n sentence I’ve said this week.

“No... I’m going to write.”

❀ ❀ ❀

“Here, I finished over the weekend.”

I handed the paper to Professor Bae, all 20 pages of my short story. She raised a brow and skimmed through it.

“Good, all normal names. Now, run along, class starts in 10 minutes.”

I nodded and turned to walk out the door before I turned back around. The professor caught my eye and gave me a tight smile.

“Why did you become a creative writing teacher? Not a research paper teacher or a lit teacher or something, why creative writing?” I asked abruptly. I don’t know why I asked the question, but I anticipated her answer.

Irene set down a pen and gave me a soft smile, contrary to her intense ones.

“Y/n, I think we’re more alike than you think.” She started. “I love to write-not just like-but I love it. I love losing myself in a story, I love the reading my stories when they’re done and imaging me as the main character.”

I nodded, knowing how she felt.

“I write because I feel alive when I write, I feel happy.” She said, pointing to her heart. “It comes naturally to me, like breathing or walking; it’s a part of me.”

“How do you write about things you’ve never experienced before? Like if I’ve never broken an arm, but wanted to write about a broken arm, how would I write about that?”

Irene gave me a sad smile and took one step closer to me. She patted my head gently and spoke to me with soft eyes.

“Imagination my friend. Imagination and reality are vital to any writer; only the best ones can combine both.”

She then picked up a stack of papers and started to head down the hall.

“Take a day off, y/n, you need one.”

❀ ❀ ❀

I sat in the courtyard, reading a book as I munched on pretzels.

Yes, I had been avoiding Byounggon, Junkyu, and especially Mashiho the entire weekend. I texted Byounggon, telling him I was alright and got home safely and that I was sorry, he responded that he was glad and that I didn’t have to explain if I didn’t want to.

He was so easy to fall for.

Why couldn’t I have fallen for him?

“Hey.”

I looked up from my book and saw the familiar face.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly, setting down my book.

Byounggon sat next to me, looking at me like he wanted to say something.

“What?” I barked harshly.

I thought he was going to be seriously offended, but he simply just started to laugh. “Damn, I missed the old you. I’m glad she’s back.”

I scoffed and took a harsh bite of my pretzel.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone else did too.” I mumbled.

“Look, I just wanted to come and apologize about Friday night, I didn’t know it would overwhelm you so bad and you were obviously uncomfortable. I should have brought you home.” The boy then took a deep breath like he was hiding something.

I was annoyed by that. “Well, just spit it out.” I spat.

The boy held in his laughter and leaned back to let the sun shine on his face. “Um well, I was sorta, I mean I didn’t realize it, but I was sorta using you to get over this other girl. Um, it’s complicated and I don’t really know my true feelings for her yet, but yeah I’m sorry, that was mean of me to do.”

I paused, soaking in his words.

Then I laughed.

“Oh gosh, that’s so funny.” Byounggon proceeded to look at me like I was crazy.

I shook my head and held my hands up, “Oh not that part, I mean that I was sorta using you too. To deflect my feelings for this other guy that I thought I had lost feelings for, but in reality, it was just hiding all this time. Or more of I was burying them.”

Byounggon smiled and took a pretzel from me.

“Well, maybe you should go talk to this guy. And I’ll talk to that girl. Sound cool?”

I nodded, shaking on it.

“The coolest.”

“Also, welcome back to being a nerd, I knew you would come through with that paper.”

I slapped him on the shoulder, but I couldn’t help but be proud of my title.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Well, maybe you should go talk to this guy. And I’ll talk to that girl. Sound cool?” I read aloud.

The lamp was shining bright on my face as Mashiho laid on my lap. His big eyes were closed as I held the stapled pieces of paper over him.

I sighed, slapping him with the pages. He gasped and cringed, but made no movement to sit up.

“Ouch! What was that for?!” The boy rubbed his nose in furious motions as I rolled my eyes.

“I’m tired, let me go to bed! It’s already 3am you meanie.” I pouted while taking a sip of water. At least it was a Friday night, I did not want to attend my 9:30 class with raccoon eyes.

Mashiho pouted, huffing like the baby he is.

“You have to finish it! Does y/n get with the boy? Does Byounggon talk to that girl he was interested in? Tell me!!”

I flicked the boy on the neck as he flinched in pain.

“You imbecile, this story is about us! You know how it ends!” I poked him on the neck as he giggled like a kid.

“I know, I know! I just like to hear listen to it again. It is nice reflecting on all our actions and you make our story feel so... dramatic.”

“It was dramatic.”

“Yeah but you make it dramatic dramatic.” He countered.

I held in my groan as I stared down at the paper that was already blurring together.

“Ok, fine, I’ll continue.”

That seemed to please him as he relaxed his body once more.

“Blah blah, blah blah, kiss, blah, mashiho and y/n, blah, junkyu-”

At my incoherent rambling, Mashiho shot up from my lap and pulled me down to lay next to him.

“Mashi! Oh my god, let go of me!” I whisper-shouted as it was too late for this. I dropped the paper on the ground as he held down my hands.

“I was joking.” He said abruptly. I leaned back so I could examine his face, which was drooping and sad.

“Joking about what?”

“I don’t like listening to your story just because it’s amazingly written and dramatic, I like listening to it reminds me of how bad I hurt you and reminds me of how I should treat you from here on,” he said confidently. I noticed how his face pinched together in pain and regret and instinctively, I reached out my hand to soften his face.

“I like reading this story because it reminds me of how powerful I can become and it’s sort of fun being the heroine for once.” I admit with a smile.

The boy looked at me with a tilted head. “Y/n, this is your life, you’re always the the main character of your life.”

I sighed and softly kissed him on the lips.

“You’re right, Mashi. And you’re my hunky male lead.”

#yg treasure box #ygtblbr #ygtb #yg treasure box scenarios #yg treasure box imagines #ygtb scenarios #ygtb imagines #mashiho #treasure j #treasure j scenarios

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chaseyesterdays · 5 years

Note

So this is probably a tad late but I realized you are probably the biggest Star Wars fan I follow (okay maybe not probably) but I want your opinion on TLJ and to an extent TFW, like you honest impression and opinion. I have no problem asking off anon/sending a message if you’ve got some opinions™️, just state so.

Hi Anon! I’m perfectly comfortable answering anonymous messages or carrying on conversations via DM, so however you feel most comfortable is fine by me! I do have A LOT of opinions though and I’m probably not going to remember half of them for this post, so if there’s anything you want me to elaborate on or any other questions you may have, feel free to ask me however you like!

(I’m putting this under a cut because holy crap, this went on so much longer than I ever thought it would.)

Okay, first off: I think TFA had great potential as a film. ( I know you asked more specifically about TLJ, but I feel like I have to start at the beginning to get my thoughts semi-in-order. TFA introduced what could have been very interesting characters: a female orphan scavenger Force sensitive, a POC stormtrooper raised from birth for destruction but with a kind heart that ultimately guides him, a hotshot pilot with a gentle soul and a desire to do the right thing while remaining loyal to whom and what he believes in – even a female stormtrooper captain who could have had such a great backstory if they’d just let her. I can’t demonize TFA too much on not developing these characters because it’s the first installment in the saga, but still, where TFA failed is in its progression of the characters. I can almost forgive Rey’s overt Force abilities in the fight with Kylo Ren because yeah, we’ve seen the same with Luke on a slightly smaller scale, but it still felt a little bit jerky to me in terms of flow. Finn and Poe fared better in my opinion, but only because I felt like this new trilogy would give each of the new trio a movie in which to shine: TFA would be Rey’s and Finn and Poe would have what became TLJ and Episode IX to be more of the focal characters.

But here’s where I have issues with TFA. First, the movie was just a remake of A New Hope with different characters. I get that JJ Abrams was trying to appeal to the original fans while still providing that same magic to bring in the younger generations, but sheesh, the whole plot is essentially recycled with a few things moved around order-wise. Desert planet that isn’t Tatooine but looks like it, jungle planet that isn’t Yavin IV but looks similar, a “Death Star” that isn’t a Death Star but is essentially a Death Star, the death of a wise old mentor… There was literally no originality. I think JJ let his fears of fucking up the saga get the better of him, so he was too afraid to branch out and make the movie really great. He could have used similar elements and plot points as an homage to the first movie while still providing his own take on modernizing the film, or placing different characters as the focal point. In the end, even though I cried like four times watching it because Han Solo was one of my favorite characters and didn’t deserve to go out like that, I can’t rag on JJ too hard for TFA. He tried, but he fell flat on some things, and ultimately his treatment of an Original Trilogy character opened the door for some atrocities to be committed down the road.

And speaking of atrocities, that leads me to TLJ. Now, I’ll be honest here, I’ve only seen the movie once and fucking refuse to watch it again, but I’ve read a lot of other people’s reactions to it and examined some articles/YouTube videos explaining why everybody else thinks it’s such a bad movie, so I’ll call on what I remember for now and if anything else comes up in the future, I’ll let you know. But I’ll start here and now by saying that the reason TLJ was a failure from the start falls directly on the shoulders of Rian Johnson. Rian Fucking Johnson, Mr. Hubris, who literally said he set out to make a movie that destroyed fan expectations and worked to keep them guessing (if I remember correctly – like I said, I’ve sworn off TLJ content for awhile now just to keep my blood from boiling). The direction Rian took TLJ made no fucking sense and completely torpedoed the outline that JJ had for the movie, derailing the trilogy as a whole just because Rian wanted to be the smug, smart asshole who knew better than anybody what was gonna happen. As a result, the movie is full of plot holes and directionless actions and flat dialogue and ridiculous characterizations, and it’s not just a failure as a Star Wars film, it’s a failure as a movie in general because the plot simply doesn’t hold water. It’s literally a low-speed car chase with some cool effects that made half of its characters either useless, annoying, OOC, or redundant. It’s bad. My creative writing professors aren’t even dead yet, but if I’d turned in that script for one of my classes, they’d be rolling in their graves. (Did I mention I studied writing, grammar, composition, storytelling, character building and plot development for four years in college and make my living as a writer now? Trust me, I know my shit.)

First off, one of the biggest failings Rian Johnson had aside from the general plot was mistreatment of characters. The POC characters Finn, Poe, and Rose bore the brunt of that because Rian wouldn’t know how to write good POC characters if they literally smacked him in the face – hell, even the best of us white people are still learning. But Poe was reduced to an angry Latino stereotype, which made absolutely no sense considering his actions and attitude in TFA. He trusted Leia and the Resistance leaders and followed them because he respected them, not because he was blinded by them or whatever else anyone can try to insinuate. Admittedly he’s right to question Holdo because her actions make no sense and there’s literally nO REASON FOR HER NOT TO TELL HIM WHAT’S GOING ON, but he wouldn’t just fly off the handle and stage a mutiny like that. He would have talked to Leia about it repeatedly, talked to Holdo and others repeatedly, and Leia would have made Holdo see sense if she was in character AND SHE NEVER WOULD HAVE FUCKING STUNNED POE.

Ahem.

Finn and Rose’s storyline is harder for me to remember because I hated that cantina sidequest thing so much, but what I do remember is feeling like Finn wasn’t even the same person (he wasn’t, because Rian Johnson killed him and put someone else in his place) and Rose was just redundant because it felt like she was created to be a love interest so Finn would be with someone other than Rey (again, I’m fine with platonic best friend relationships, but considering the fact that Finn/Rey would be a biracial relationship and the big ship R*eylo is founded on a whiny white man literally abusing the female protagonist, it just seems like a blatant attempt to undermine the POC characters and relationships in the film). Now let me be clear: what happened to Finn and Rose is not the actors’ faults, as they were at the mercy of Rian Fucking Johnson, and it isn’t the characters’ faults that they’re so weak. That’s all on bad writing and Rian Johnson, and I’m in no way blaming anyone but him for destroying them. (Also, I don’t want Finn to die at all, but having Rose save him from sacrificing himself just so she could kiss him and declare love for him and keep fans guessing again is just…so bad, Rian. Why won’t you let your characters make sense.)

And then there’s Rey. If I’m remembering correctly, both Daisy Ridley and Mark Hamill said they didn’t get back into character for TLJ because the characters they played, Rey and Luke, weren’t even the same characters in this film, and whoo boy, does it show. First off, I hate this term, but Rey was essentially a Mary Sue in this film. She had pretty much no training with Luke but somehow managed to be an amazing Force user anyway?? Look, I’m a naturally talented singer, but I didn’t just get good because of that, I got good because I worked hard and studied technique and worked with instructors who helped me take my natural talent and channel it and refine it into something better. That’s what Luke should have done. That’s what Rey should have gotten. But neither of them were in character so of course we didn’t get that. Instead, we got an angry, sullen Luke who tried to murder his nephew in his sleep, which NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED BECAUSE HE SAW ENOUGH GOOD IN DARTH VADER NOT TO MURDER HIM SO WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE DO IT TO HIS NEPHEW, HIS SISTER’S ONLY CHILD. No sense people. No sense.

Rey being a nobody is a controversial point because some people love the fact that a great Jedi can be anyone at all. I get that. But what those people don’t realize is that the Skywalker line came from a slave woman. She was a “nobody” in the grand scheme of things – no disrespect to Shmi Skywalker, who was a powerful woman and a goddess in her own right. Making Rey a Skywalker (either from Luke’s line or Leia’s) does not diminish the “nobody” thing. In fact, it’s the only thing that makes sense, because that lightsaber belongs to the Skywalker line and it wouldn’t just call out to anybody – my creative writing professors would have shot that shit down in a heartbeat. So I think Rey will actually end up being someone with a connection to the Skywalkers; some people theorized that “The Chosen One,” AKA Anakin born of midichlorians, could be almost an avatar-like thing, or Rey could be a reincarnation of Anakin if she’s not a Skywalker/Solo somehow. Kinda farfetched, but no less farfetched than the rest of this fucking movie, so whatever.

Tying Rey and Kylo together could have been so interesting if Rey was his sister. I loved the idea that Rey and Kylo were both Solo children of the Skywalker bloodline, representing the Light and Dark sides of the Force and proving that ultimately, the balance between Dark and Light is what defeats true evil and restores balance to the galaxy (after all, balance is not the absence of dark or light, but an equal ratio of it, and I firmly believe that being a Jedi should not be banishing all the darkness in you, but simply controlling it and centering yourself on the balance between love and passion and anger and pain). It would have made such a good story for Kylo Ren to be a double agent or a legitimately brainwashed young man struggling to do what he thinks is right and being misled but still using his gifts to support balance once he realizes he’s been led astray. Instead, we got literally the worst villain ever: he’s not intimidating, he’s whiny, he pitches temper tantrums, he’s selfish, he’s abusive, he’s impulsive… The writers can’t figure out what they want with him, because they’ve worked so hard to make us sympathize with him and like him and set him up like a misunderstood kid, but then they go and have him make the conscious choice to be evil but still be all those “good” things? It makes no sense. His character progression is all over the place because Rian can’t write and the Kylo he created is not even the same character as JJ put in TFA. And as a result, we now have just about canon proof that Rian wanted R*eylo, which is just another glorified abusive relationship that “stans” keep romanticizing. Gag me with a spoon. I’m done.

Also, who the fuck was Snoke? How was he so powerful? Where did he come from? How did he brainwash Kylo? Who trained him or how did he learn all he knew? How could he see everything and sense everything but not hear, see, or feel Kylo moving the lightsaber? Why were he and Phasma completely nerfed and killed out of nowhere with absolutely no character development or reason for dying? The world may never know.

And here’s where I get really angry: the sheer disrespect for the Original Trilogy characters. Harrison was ready to retire as Han, and I can understand that – I don’t like how Han went out, but I can almost forgive that because I don’t want the actors to be miserable. But what they did to Luke and Leia is unforgivable. Straight up, point blank. Luke Skywalker would never try to murder his nephew in his sleep. Leia would never stun Poe or send her son away or be a terrible, absentee parent. Luke would never be the person he was in that movie, because even in the depths of despair, Luke chose good, chose to see the good in others. He and Leia never gave up hope or belief that good would always triumph over evil. The Luke I saw in TLJ had none of that, and Mark Hamill himself said it wasn’t Luke, it was “Jake Skywalker” or some other nonsense. Mark is a genuinely kind and accepting person, so if you manage to make him angry about a character he’s played for more than thirty years, you’ve fucked up big time, and Rian Johnson did just that. And what’s worse, there was no reason for Luke to die aside from the fact that he just wasn’t convenient for the writers to consider anymore. Han’s death happened to let Harrison retire, but Luke’s was just to get the old generation out so Kathleen Kennedy and the other Powers That Be could do whatever they wanted in the Star Wars universe and milk that cash cow for all it’s worth. Now that Carrie’s gone, all real ties to the Lucasverse are gone, and I’m not convinced they weren’t going to kill Leia off anyway for the reasons I stated above. The blatant disrespect of that, of destroying characters I’ve loved my whole life, who literally kept me alive when nothing else did… It’s unforgivable. I wept like I lost loved ones watching Luke and Han die, and I refuse to do it again.

And here’s what it all comes down to for me: hope. Star Wars was founded on hope. The whole franchise was created in the wake of the Vietnam War when everyone needed something good to believe in, a clear divide between good and evil where good won simply because it was willing to fight for what it believed in, support others, love others, do the right thing. Even when the chips were down and everything was at its darkest in ESB, they always had hope, and in the end, hope won out. There are literally documentaries out there and books written about the success of Star Wars and the fact that hope is its literal cornerstone. The sequel trilogy destroyed all of that. There is no hope anymore. The Resistance is pretty much decimated at the end of TLJ, and at the hands of a government (not even a government??) that rose up out of nothing and destroyed like twelve planets with a flick of a switch and blew billions of people away (and of course we never hear another word about that because that can’t be important at all). Everyone is dying. There are no ships left. There are no forces – less than 100 people made it off that salt planet whose name escapes me and I don’t care enough to look up, and it might have been less than 50. There is no chance that the Resistance can rise up out of nothing and overcome that. Considering how far Rian derailed the progression of the trilogy as a whole, I don’t know how on earth JJ can come back and fix it with literally nothing on his side – all for the sake of shock factor (I swear, I shake my fist at Rian Johnson in my head at least once a day). I know the modern trend is to shoot for gritty, hopeless, “realistic” films because that’s what the current mood is in this country and around the world, but that’s not what Star Wars is about. That’s never been what Star Wars is about. The whole story was built on the foundation of hope, that good could rise and triumph over evil, and there’s simply no room for that in this sequel trilogy. Essentially, the sequel trilogy has failed because it destroyed what makes Star Wars “Star Wars” at its core, and for that, I will never forgive it. The prequels may have been dark, but they exist to show that while the good can fall, ultimately, they can rise again even if in the smallest of ways. “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” The narrative is so convoluted and misconstrued in the sequel trilogy, and it will never be able to find that same foundation of hope again because Disney fucked up. As I said in 2017, “Star Wars is dead. Long live Star Wars.” So I’ll stick to my Original Trilogy and remember the good things that kept me going, the characters and actors that saved my life and made me realize that even in the face of darkness, hope and love can overcome all. That’s Star Wars to me. Honestly, that’s what Rogue One delivered, and if you take anything out of this, it’s that Rogue One is the only Star Wars thing Disney did right. But the sequel trilogy isn’t Star Wars, it isn’t even halfway decent storytelling, and I hope that on the day I die Rian Johnson and everyone responsible for TLJ can lower me into my grave so they can let me down one last time.

I probably left a lot out because I have so many feelings on this matter, and this response is like encyclopedia-long as is, but it’s the truth of what I feel, and I really hope I shed some light on the topic for you (probably way too much light, but I digress). Thank you for caring about my opinions Anon! I really appreciate you giving me the opportunity to put my thoughts down, and if you managed to make it to the end of this ridiculous post, just know that my inbox and my asks are always open for any clarification or fandom-screaming or thoughts in general. Have an amazing day, and as some people whom I love very dearly used to say, “May the Force be with you. Always.”

#star wars #anti tfa #anti tlj #these are my opinions guys don't @me #I was actually asked for this lmao #thanks again anon i love u for this #forcie rambles #adventures of a panic stricken graduate #who probably could have gotten her degree in star wars lore tbh

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harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 6 years

Text

Never Caught A Feeling This Hard

request: Can you write a Snape x hufflepuff student scenario when idk(female) reader hates him and she just tries to ignore his attitude but when he once again takes points from her house, she just snaps at him. And she leaves the classroom and tries to ignore him as long as possible. Please make it really angsty and sad cause I love having my heart broken. But a fluffy ending x3 if you're comfortable I'd appreciate a heated kiss but if you're not then a confession from both parties is ok☆

Summary: while your almost an expert at potions, your friend Y/F/N isnt that bright with the subject. When Professor Snape yells at your friend and takes points away from their house, you being a Y/H, stand up to Snape and tell him off. Flabberghasted at your outburst, he only follows you with his eyes as you storm out of the classroom. While Y/F/N thanks you, they say Snape requested to see you. Embarrassed at your show in front of the class, you refuse to see him and change your seat to the back with Y/F/N. When Yule Ball comes around, your last one ever at Hogwarts, Snape decides its the right time to approach you. Feelings are revealed with angst but happy ending.

note: yuhh another posty lyric, this was a request so dont hesitate to send some in! im sorry this is a bit late, i got a summer sickness/cold and ive slept the entire day away. anyways, enjoy!

warnings: ill come back to this when im done, like one curse word and teacher x student relationship

6-28-18

Grabbing your potions textbook, you and Y/F/N made ways to Professor Snape’s classroom. Throughout your years, even before coming to Hogwarts, potions had become your best subject and some even told you that you were better than Hermione. She had even been amazed at your brewing skills.

You friend Y/F/N, on the other hand, wasn’t as gifted with potions as you were. However, her charming skills superb. But with Snape being such a hard-ass teacher, it was tough to get help or even a ‘good job’ from the man.

Heading into the classroom, you and Y/F/N sat up front as always. You had always liked sitting front and center, wanting to show you teachers you were there to learn. You assumed it was because you were a Y/H.

Snape swiftly walked into the classroom, shutting the windows behind him. Today was like any other day, except he mentioned the day before that your class would be learning a tougher potion; Veritaserum.

Walking up to the front of the class, everyone got quiet. Snape nodded, ”if you listen carefully to today’s lesson. . .I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

At that, you let out a snort of laughter. Snape met your eyes and a small smile formed, gone as quick as it appeared. The professor then turned his attention to the class, telling them what to grab and to open their textbook pages to 394.

Glancing to Y/F/N, you smiled, “I’ll get your book ready and you can get both of us ingredients, yeah?” They nodded, writing down the ingredients and rushing off to get them.

Coming back, you grabbed your own ingredients from your friends shared part of the table. “Thanks for getting them Y/F/N,” you said, making them nod to you.

Reading the book, you set your cauldron to the required heat and crushed some ingredients together. After waiting a few minutes, you put in the materials and stirred, waiting for the potion to turn green. You noticed Snape walk past your table and tap against a vile of liquid, then tapping your arm. Letting out an “ahh,” you put the vile in.

Next was kind of a blur. A tiny explosion next to you had occurred and the sound hurt your ear. Y/F/N laid on the floor, rubbing their head. “Hey,” you said, rushing to their side, “you ok?” They nodded, “yeah. . .I don’t know why that happened?”

You pulled them up to their chair again, “doesn’t matter as long as you-”

Snape had slammed his hands on the desk, “what the hell were you thinking?”

You friend retreated back, “I-I’m sorry sir, I h-honestly don’t k-know what I did wrong.”

The professor scoffed, “of course you didn’t, you ignorant child. 10 points from Ravenclaw.”

You scowled, “sir! They made an honest mistake, we all do! Any other student here would have made the same mistake, so leave them alone. You never have any consideration for any os us; we are learning this class, not experts. Some excel more than others, but we all are experiencing this for the first time. So please sir, lay off.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and shuffled out of the room, leaving a wake of wide eyes behind you. Snape followed your figure with his eyes, unable to believe that you, his favorite student, had just caused a scene by picking a fight with him. He grumbled when you left, “get back to work.”

After your outburst at your favorite professor, you decided to head back to the Y/H commonroom. You failed to notice that class had ended and Y/F/N walked into the room. “Hey,” they started, “I’m not supposed to be in here but thanks for sticking up to Snape. I appreciate it. . .but he told me to tell you that he wants to see you.”

You nodded, “right, well. .no probelm, Y/F/N. He was being so out of line. Though I’m not sure if I want to face him. Thanks for telling me, though.” They nodded their head and walked out, going to their next class. You assumed you should get to class, too.

The next day, you had potions first which made you happy but also very gloomy. You were getting the worst class over and done with, but first of the day? Pass. Heading into class, you grab Y/F/N’s hand and drag them to the way back before Professor Snape walks inside. Pushing your hair to the side, you hide your face and rest a hand on the side of your head when Snape walks by you.

You and him did not look at one another the entire class, only focusing on your new potion to make; Amortentia the love potion. You and Y/F/N already knew it was an easy class, having made the potion aside from class before.

You both did everything right and Snape added 5 points to each of your houses for having been done first. You didn’t give the professor a second glance, just nodding at his words of encouragement. Y/F/N gave you a small smile, but continued to write down notes for a reminder of what different potions consist.

Finally, it was the night of the Yule Ball, your last one ever. Cedric Diggory asked you to be his date and of course you said yes. Grabbing Y/F/N and some other Y/H pals, you wandered through Diagon Alley and past Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, waving to Fred and George from outside. They waved for you to come inside and you sighed but smiled.

The twins went up to both sides of your face, each giving you a kiss on the cheek, “hello gorgeous!” You laughed, “hello, hello. Now what do you hooligans want?”

Fred handed you a bottle of Amortentia as him and George talked, “a bottle of love,” George then whispered, “for Professor Snape.”

You jumped back and let out a fake laugh, “ha! As if. . .seriously though, what do you want?”

The twins looked to one another then back at you, “no joke, little lady. We’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Just then, Ron came up to the brothers and you on the stairs, “how much for this?”

Fred and George looked at the item, “5 gallons.”

Ron chuckled, “how much for me?”

With that, the two taller boys nodded again, “5 gallons.”

You let out a laugh as Ron looked offended, “Y/N! But, I’m your brother.”

Fred and George shrugged, “10 gallons.” The twins then walked off, leaving Ron confused and you staring at the love potion in the bottle.

Getting your dress, you decided on a long red sleeveless dress which had light ruffles at the bottom and small parkles over it. There was a bow that went across the middle and you fell in love.

It seemed different putting it on, having the potion given by your favorite twins in your bag. You pulled it out and sniffed it, noticing it smelled like Professor Snape; bitterness and old shoes with a spiff of charcoal. Appealing, really.

Walking into the ball with Cedric, he hooked his arm with yours. You smiled at each other and he kissed the top of your head like a good friend would. Throughout the night, you both stayed together until you went off to go to the bathroom. However, before you could reach the bathroom, a hand pulled you behind a large column.

You gasped and your eyes met anothers; Severus Snape’s. You furrowed your brows, “professor? What?”

Snape pulled at your waist and rested a hand at the side of your head, “you. . .pest! You’ve infested my head with images and thoughts of you, just you, and I cannot stop.”

Your eyes squinted at Snape’s words, “what the hell! Wha - what do you mean. . .Severus?”

The professor’s eyes wandered along your face, stopping at your lips, “I. .I love you. And you’re my student. Stay after the party, I want to see you again.” With that, he walked away and left you by the column. You headed back to your table with Cedric and spent the night with him until he decided to head to bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. . .thank you for being my date,” Cedric said, making you smile.

You gave a bright smile as you kissed his cheek, “thank you for asking me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Every person had left by now, Professor McGonagall saying her goodnights to you. Smiling, you saw Snape appear out of the shadows, “may I have this dance?”

You nodded, “of course.” Snape offered his hand and you accepted it, standing up and resting a hand on his shoulder and his on your waist. Your other hands joined together, dancing together.

After dancing to the sound of nothing, you both stood by the window, looking out among the land of Hogwarts. You smiled at Severus, “it’s a perfect night. . .for us.”

Snape gripped your waist, kissing your cheek lovingly, “it is, indeed. I wish we could have this. . .forever.”

You looked up at him, glancing at his lips, “we can. When I graduate, it won’t matter.”

He rubbed his thumb along your waist that was covered by the dress, “you could have someone your age, who you desire.”

Putting a hand to his cheek, you shifted his face towards yours, “you are all I desire, Severus. Only you.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his, “if that is what you desire, so be it.”

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basketcase789 · 6 years

Text

Written in the Stars IV

“Handwriting is more connected to the movement of the heart.”

- Natalie Goldberg

Group: BTS

Member: RM

Genre: soulmate au

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

You were working hard on your assignments and other homework, but Namjoon was always there at the back of your mind.

It was getting harder and harder to stay away from him, you were finding. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he had a kind personality too. He was always thinking of others before himself. You felt butterflies in your stomach recalling the day of your hangover and how he had stuck behind after class to make sure you were okay. Not to mention his smile brightened up your week just by seeing it.

You were struggling with your poetry class assignment. You had no problem completing it - no, the topic wasn’t the problem. There was just no way you could submit a handwritten copy and let Namjoon find out you were soulmates. But you were afraid of the consequences if you didn’t follow his instructions. He would likely dock your grade for it.

You debated asking your roommate to hand write the assignment out for you. That would solve the issue - you would submit a handwritten assignment, and Namjoon wouldn’t know the difference. But your roommate was busy enough with her own midterm assignments and exams. You couldn’t ask her to take the time to write yours out for you. Not to mention it would require you having to explain the whole situation to her.

You had two copies of your assignment laid out in front of you. The first was your original handwritten one, and the other was a typed document that you had printed.

On the day the assignment was due you packed both copies into your bag, unsure of which you would submit in the end.

You arrived to the classroom, and you were surprised to find a woman sitting at Namjoon’s desk at the front of the room.

When class was scheduled to start, she stood and handed out a sheet to everyone. “I am a colleague of Professor Kim. He will be in shortly, but first we’re asking you to fill out an assessment sheet. Professor Kim is applying for tenure, and we are conducting his annual review. Please take your time to fill out the form thoughtfully. We ask that you do not fill out your name and instead leave it anonymous.”

You began answering the questions, leaving good reviews of course. He’d been an excellent teacher thus far, always having his students’ success as his top priority.

You weren’t too concerned about someone in the faculty putting two and two together that your handwriting was the same as Namjoon’s - the odds of it getting noticed amongst all the other forms was slim.

After all the papers had been submitted and the woman left, Namjoon entered the room.

“I hope you all left me positive comments,” he said with a chuckle. If you weren’t mistaken, he seemed a little unsure of himself. It was a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanour, but then it was gone as quickly as it came. “Alright, today’s the day, everyone. Please hand in your midterm assignments.”

You opened up your bag and stared at the two essays you’d prepared.

Namjoon was trying to become a tenured professor. Of course he would, you thought to yourself. It was probably every professor’s goal.

Having a soulmate who was a student would definitely complicate things for him. If he found out about you, you were sure the faculty would also find out eventually. You could only keep things secret for so long. Then what would happen to his chances of getting tenure?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the typed up copy. You couldn’t burden him with knowing the truth, even if it was at the cost of your grade for this assignment. As you added your essay to the pile of papers, you only hoped he didn’t make future assignments with the requirement to be handwritten as well.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip nervously. It had been a week since you handed in your assignment and you were dying to know your grade. How many points had Namjoon deducted for failing to meet his handwritten condition? Considering how lenient he had been to you signing the attendance sheet instead of printing, you assumed - hoped - it wouldn’t be too serious.

You had to sit through the entire next class, until he finally returned assignments at the very end.

“If you have any questions, feel free to come see me during my office hours to discuss. I’ll see you all next week.”

You took in a deep breath before looking at your grade. You’d really worked hard on the essay, going very in depth about your appreciation for Namjoon’s father’s works. You only hoped your grades reflected the quality of content, and not how it was delivered.

You flipped your assignment over and were met with a 0/100.

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You’d never gotten a zero in your whole academic career, and you hadn’t even considered the possibility of getting a zero on this essay. You tried to do a mental calculation of what the best grade was that you could now achieve in this class… what percentage of your final grade was this assignment worth again? If you got a poor grade in this class overall, how many points would your GPA go down?

You’d have to make Namjoon reconsider your grade somehow. Or else you could kiss your scholarship goodbye.

A few days later you’d had enough time to calm down and come up with a game plan. Your heart was racing the entire walk to Namjoon’s office - what if you weren’t able to convince him to give your essay another shot? You’d lose your fully funded scholarship and you’d have no choice but to get a job. But working would significantly affect your academic performance, you were certain. Not to mention you wouldn’t have time to do volunteer work in the community, which was something highly valued by the school. How were you going to make a good impression on the professors who could potentially help your career in the future like that?

You’d worked your ass off too hard for it all to crash and burn like this.

Upon arriving, the door to Namjoon’s office was shut and you could hear men’s voices from within, so you waited in the hallway outside. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you could clearly hear everything they were saying.

“We’ve concluded your annual review, Namjoon. Unfortunately at this time we cannot grant you tenure.”

“Can you at least tell me why this time? I got my degree at this very school, and I’ve been teaching and contributing to the school ever since. I’ve been publishing research papers and-”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I know you’re trying to follow in your father’s footsteps and become tenured. He was a good man, and highly respected by the university. But at this time... it’s just not possible. My advice? Continue using your good looks to promote student enrollment and try again next year.”

The door to the office opened, and a man you recognized as the dean of the Arts faculty stepped out. You gave him a friendly nod, despite your disbelief of the words you’d just heard coming from his mouth, and he left.

The office door remained open, and you hesitantly glanced inside. Namjoon was facing the window at the back of his office with hands on his waist, head lowered.

“Namjoon?” you said.

He turned around, and once spotted you he offered a small smile.

“Is this a bad time?” you asked, knowing full well it was, but still needing to discuss your grade.

“It’s a good a time as any I suppose.” He sat down at his desk with a sigh and motioned to the empty chair in front of him. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about your paper?”

You sat down, placing your bag on your lap. “Why did you give me a zero? Was the content not strong enough? My sources-”

“Your grade reflects the fact your paper didn’t meet the requirement of being handwritten, as laid out in the assignment instructions.”

“I recall you once saying yourself it’s okay to break the rules sometimes,” you countered.

He let out a chuckle and leaned back in his chair. “Not on an assignment.”

“Then what did you mean?” you said, feeling frustration overcome you. He was sitting there laughing while your world was falling apart. “Why does it matter whether it was handwritten or not? Our work should be graded based on the final product and not the means it was delivered, shouldn’t it? I followed every other requirement down to a T. Was my essay not up to your standards?”

“I didn’t read your essay, to be honest. I saw it was typed and appropriately gave it a zero.”

“But why does it matter?” You could feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes.

He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. “Do you know how many students I’ve taught who’ve tried to make it look like they were my soulmate? Too many to count. I had one student who went so far as to copy my writing and turn it into a font, typed out a document and pretended she had written it to prove we should be together. All to get a better grade. And I believed her at first. That’s why I have students print their name on the attendance sheet, and why I make assignments that require them to be handwritten. So I know the truth from the very start.”

“But I’m not trying to prove anything.”

“Aren’t you?”

He’d caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks burn. From his perspective, your not following his rules would make it look like you were stringing him along. Being a tease and leading him on.

He glanced away, before saying, “I won’t change my mind about your grade.”

Before you could make more of a fool of yourself, you reached into your bag and grabbed the original handwritten copy of your essay that you’d brought along with you. You tossed it onto his desk. “How about now?”

And you ran from his office before you could see his reaction.

#rm #namjoon #namjoon scenario #bts scenario #rap monster #rm scenario #rap monster scenario #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #rap monster fanfic #kim namjoon #fanfic friday

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botanistlester · 7 years

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Sweet Pea (5/?)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Such Small Hands by La Dispute! This chapter contains light violence (grabbing), drinking, and mentions of throwing up, so please be safe. As always, thank you to @littlelionsloves and @snowbunnylester for editing this for me. I couldn't have done this without them. And thank you to you lovely people for reading this! It means the world to me that so many people look forward to this story. i love you all. xoxo Previous | Masterlist

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Chapter Five

I think you saw me confronting my fear, it went up with the bottle and went down with the beer. And I think you ought to stay away from here. There are ghosts in the walls and they crawl in your head through your ear.

A month into their relationship, it was just like any other ordinary Tuesday. Phil woke up, went to class, and forgot to eat breakfast. He got shaky due to low blood sugar, and had to buy some McDonald’s to stop himself from shaking. His classes were filled with friendly chatter among friends, and sweet text messages from Nico.

Nico x - 12:53 pm

Hi sweet pea. Ill bet you look gorgeous today

Nico x - 1:07pm

You know youre the most beautiful man ive ever seen?

Nico x - 1:08pm

Cant wait to see you later <3

It was enough to glue a grin onto Phil’s face, so bright that he was sure it was going to blind every living person.

Tuesdays were one of Phil’s least favourite days of the week. He hated how it wasn’t the start of the week, and also wasn’t the end of the week. Tuesdays made Fridays seem so much further away. They were the day that nobody talked about, the day that Phil had a three hour long class to attend.

But this Tuesday turned out to be one of the best he’d ever had.

Phil and Nico had plans to hang out. It wasn’t anything special, at least it wasn’t supposed to be. But to be honest, Phil thought anything to do with Nico was pretty special. They were supposed to just hang out and watch movies, maybe even play a little Rock Band even though Phil was horrible at it.

That was just what they did. They went out to eat after class at a nice tamale place right off of campus. Phil had never had a tamale before, didn’t really know what it was, but Nico was gracious as he explained how to eat it, his feet gently playing with Phil’s under the table. After eating, they headed back to Nico’s apartment, where they first watched some Gravity Falls and then moved onto Over the Garden Wall when they got tired of it.

Then came the Rock Band. It was just as horrible as Phil had thought it was going to be. His voice cracked as he sung, unable to hit the high notes, and Nico was cracking up at him as he played the guitar. Phil didn’t understand why he had to be the one to use the microphone, but Nico only claimed it was because he sounded cute, and they continued playing.

It was Nico who said it first.

Phil was singing a horrendous version of Through the Fire and the Flames, failing horribly and making a fool out of himself. The crowd was going wild, booing him, getting angry at all of the notes he missed. He sounded like a dying goose and he was fully aware of it from the giggles that left Nico’s mouth as he hit nearly every note on the guitar.

Eventually, Phil’s crowd booed him so hard that he ended up being kicked off, and he pouted as he set the microphone down, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall.

“That’s not fair!” he whined, glaring at Nico as he quit to the main menu, snickering all the while.

“And why isn’t it?” Nico asked, clearly amused. He brought a slender hand to Phil’s fringe and pushed a stray piece back into place.

“It’s unfair that they judge you by how your singing sounds! As long as you hit the notes, it shouldn’t matter how you sound!” Phil crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the offending game. Perhaps he was over exaggerating, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment.

Nico laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to Phil’s cheeks. His lips were cold against his warm face, and it cooled him down only slightly. “That’s just it, sweet pea,” Nico said gently, and ran a hand through Phil’s hair, ruffling it into more of a quiff. “You weren’t hitting the notes.”

Phil gasped aloud and glared at his boyfriend, slapping him on the chest. How dare his own significant other make fun of him for such a thing! “You take that back!” Nico snickered and shook his head. “I hate you!” Phil whined because Nico was evil and he definitely hated him.

“Well it’s a good thing I love you, then,” Nico told him softly, and Phil’s heart stopped. Stuttered. Accelerated.

His shock must have been evident on his face because Nico reached out and smoothed the lines on Phil’s face with such a soft expression that it made Phil’s chest hurt. He couldn’t believe that Nico had said something like that, especially so casually, as if it was obvious in the first place. Of course, Phil had been thinking about terms like ‘love’ often the past few weeks, but he hadn’t expected Nico to say it so soon. Not like he was complaining though. He could feel the pull in his bones that made him fall into Nico’s arms, making him kiss along Nico’s cheekbones, along his jawline.

He breathed into Nico’s skin, breathed in his cologne, tried to imprint it into his memory.

At the time, he believed he could stay there forever and be completely and utterly content. With that thought in mind, he closed the gap between their lips and kissed Nico deeply, trying to convey how he felt through the touch. They kissed passionately, nipping and licking into each other’s mouths, until Phil was sitting in Nico’s lap.

When he pulled away for air, he leaned in close, kissing the shell of Nico’s ear. He wondered if his voice shook when he spoke, if it showed just how nervous and excited he was. “I love you too,” he whispered. “Forever and always.”

Nico smiled against his lips. “To death do us part,” he replied quietly, and they sealed it with a kiss, a promise to continue loving each other until their hearts give out. And when the kiss got more passionate, more daring, Phil didn’t really mind.

That night, they made love for the first time, and Phil couldn’t help but shed a few tears because he felt so completely and utterly loved beneath Nico’s fingertips. He gasped and moaned and sobbed, and Nico held him close all the while, whispering how much Phil meant to him, how he’d die if Phil ever left him, into the skin of his thighs and the nape of his neck.

Phil didn’t know why they hadn’t done this sooner, but he wasn’t one to complain when he felt so amazing that he could barely formulate the words. So instead, he stayed quiet and basked in the feeling of Nico loving him to the fullest.

When it was all over and done with, Phil decided that perhaps Tuesdays couldn’t be that bad after all.

“Come to a party with me.”

Phil sighed and grimaced, shaking his head. He didn’t look up from where he was writing lecture notes in his cactus-themed notebook. “Nico, you know I don’t like parties,” he said flatly.

Nico pouted at him, and when Phil still didn’t pay him any mind, he leaned forward across Phil’s desk, making Phil draw a line through his originally beautiful page of notes. Phil scowled and tried to shove Nico off, but it didn’t do anything for him.

“Please? We always do the things you wanna do together. Can’t we just go to a party for once?”

At just the mention of parties, Phil could already feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat.

He hated parties with a burning passion, hated them more than anybody could ever understand. Alcohol, drugs, loud music, and large crowds never made for a comfortable Phil.

“I dunno, Nico. Parties make me really nervous.”

“Please, please, please?” Nico whined, refusing to move even as Phil tried to shove him off again. He was lucky they were in a large lecture hall, otherwise Nico would have been in trouble with the professor. Now, he was only getting glares from the students surrounding him. “We never do anything I want to do.”

“If you get off my notes and shut up, I’ll go to the dumb party with you,” Phil hissed, poking Nico in the face.

Nico nodded happily and backed off, giving Phil a little sideways smirk that never failed to make Phil swoon. Damn it, even when Phil was mad at Nico, he can’t seem to stay mad.

The party arrived far before Phil was ready for it.

It was a Thursday night, which made Phil whine a lot. Partying on a Thursday? He was going to be absolutely wrecked tomorrow. But Nico scoffed and told him it was ‘Thirsty Thursday’ and that if he didn’t party today then that automatically make Phil lame. Phil wasn’t lame, damn it.

A little bit before the party started, Phil couldn’t help but start freaking out, just because that’s what he did best. He didn’t know what to wear to something like this, much less how to act, so he complained a little bit as he went through each individual item of clothing. Button down? No, too fancy. Band tee? Too casual. Tank top? Phil might be able to get away with it.

He put the shirt on, combining it with a pair of whitewashed shorts. The tank was just a superhero shirt with a bunch of different DC characters on it, and he always liked it because it was nerdy but flattering. Just like him (minus the flattery).

When he walked out of the room to show Nico, he struck a pose. “Do I look okay?” he asked nervously, wringing his hands to stop himself from tearing his hair out.

Nico stood up and made his way over to him. He groaned, putting his arms around Phil’s neck and pulling him down to connect their lips in a less-than-innocent way. “You’re so sexy, sweet pea,” Nico growled, sounding a bit overprotective. He ran his hands all over Phil’s chest until they were skirting up Phil’s shirt, caressing the pale skin underneath.

Despite the nervous energy going haywire throughout Phil, he somehow felt himself getting turned on. Maybe it was because he was so nervous that every touch made his body feel electrified, that he found himself kissing Nico with more vigour until they were undressing Phil once more.

Nico kissed him all over, made marks over his collarbones, made sure to claim Phil as his. Phil couldn’t exactly complain, not when it was feeling so amazing that he temporarily forgot about his anxiety. They had sex and each of Nico’s moans were like music to Phil’s ears. He wished they could just stay inside and do this the whole night, but he knew his wishes wouldn’t be granted. Not that night at least.

When they finished, they took a moment cleaning themselves back up before Phil started to get dressed again in his previous clothes. Nico stopped him before he could pull the tank top on. “Wear a different shirt,” he told Phil, seemingly nonchalant.

Phil was confused and he cocked his head a bit, furrowing his eyebrows. Hadn’t Nico said he liked this shirt? Or was he lying? “Why? I thought you said I looked sexy.”

“That’s the problem,” Nico whined, kissing Phil’s naked shoulder and pouting at him. His green eyes were big and wide and he batted his eyelashes to make himself look prettier than he already was. “You’re too good looking! I may just have to ravish you again as soon as you put it back on. Besides, I don’t want anyone to take you tonight.”

Phil cooed and pecked Nico on the lips, unable to help himself from smiling. His boyfriend was far too sweet, always looking out for him no matter the circumstance. “Fine. But you have to decide what I’m wearing. I don’t want to spend another twenty minutes looking through my clothes.

It took approximately twelve seconds for Nico to pull out a shirt, a purple v-neck that Phil hardly ever wore anymore because it showed some of the hair on his chest. But Nico convinced him in a soft tone that he would look amazing, so he didn’t argue and just put it on. They had to leave anyway.

The walk over was filled with complete and utter anxiety from Phil. He couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting with everything he possibly could. A thread from his shirt, his hair, the choker dangling from around his neck. He fiddled with everything.

“Stop fretting so much,” Nico told him softly. He was texting on his phone, not even needing to look over at Phil to know that he was freaking out. Phil envied him for being so composed, even in moments like these.

Phil bit his lip and words came out of his mouth before he could tell the words to stop. “Can I hold your hand?”

Just like the first time Phil had asked about PDA, Nico seemed to turn to ice. His lips pressed together and he gave Phil a once-over that made him wondering if he had something disgusting on his shirt. “You know I have anxiety, sweet pea,” Nico told him carefully, in a warning tone almost.

“But I do too, Nico,” Phil pleaded. He held his hand out, trying to catch Nico’s hand in his own, but it was snatched away before he could fully grasp it. “Please? Just this once?”

Nico was shaking his head, and he put his hands in his pockets, out of Phil’s reach. His eyes were focused on everything but Phil, it seemed, and Phil could feel himself start to shrink in on himself, already accepting that his idea was an unfair one. He should never have asked Nico to go out of his comfort zone. “Stop asking me. The answer’s no, Phil.”

Not ‘sweet pea’. Not ‘love’. Not even ‘sweetheart’. Just Phil. That was probably what struck Phil in the heart most of all. He didn’t even reply, just went completely silent and refused to speak for the rest of the walk.

But that’s okay, because Nico didn’t try to talk to him either.

Soon enough, they came to the house. “Don’t lose me, okay?” Phil asked fretfully as they entered the house. The music was already so loud that it swallowed up his voice, and the only reason he knew Nico had heard at all was because of the tiny nod sent his way.

Their hands weren’t entwined like Phil desperately wanted, but he’d long since accepted that Nico wouldn’t want to hold his hand in front of their peers, so it didn’t surprise him too much. Instead, Phil found himself gently clasping the back of Nico’s shirt as he followed him through the crowd, trying desperately not to lose his boyfriend.

They found themselves in the kitchen soon enough, drinks being shoved into their hands. It got Phil to loosen up a bit, his head feeling a bit light and his shoulders less tense. Nico was speaking to a group of his other classmates, Phil standing behind him listening. He didn’t speak because he didn’t know if he would be capable, the alcohol sitting heavy on his tongue and making his eyes droop slightly. He watched with a slight smile as Nico threw his head back and laughed, that smile that Phil loved so much making an appearance.

He wanted to kiss those lips so bad, but he stayed firmly in place. He didn’t want to make Nico uncomfortable with his public displays of affection.

“I gotta piss,” Nico said to the group, pointing his thumbs in the opposite direction down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

Phil stood up straighter, taking a few steps forward to follow Nico. Just as he did, a shoulder knocked into his own and sent him flying backwards, his head smashing into the wall and his beer spilling all over his shirt. He cringed in pain, his head spinning, as he tried to regain his balance. But then, disoriented, he looked around, expecting to see Nico, only to be greeted with a blank space next to him. In a panic, he looked around the room, trying to find that familiar head of curly hair, and found him at the end of the hall, nearly out of sight.

“Nico, wait up!” he called over the crowd, watching with growing panic as the brunette disappeared down the hallway.

Phil cursed, wiping off his soiled shirt with his hands and not caring that they got all sticky with beer. He started to stumble after his boyfriend, the room swaying around him, and he found himself falling to his knees puking into a potted plant instead. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he could hardly believe he’d lost his own boyfriend.

Who the fuck does that?

He puked once more, gagging on the taste, and sat back on his feet when he was done, wiping his mouth off with distaste. He couldn’t believe he’d just puked in a potted plant.

“Hey man, you okay?” A voice asked behind him, a hand appearing on his shoulder.

Phil jumped out of his skin, whirling around to find a familiar looking guy with a curly brown fringe and brown eyes filled with worry. Phil didn’t know why he was familiar and he gaped for a moment, trying to figure it out.

It was when the man’s eyes widened and he gasped out a, “Phil?” that Phil realised this was Dan. The Dan who was Phil’s regular at work.

“Dan!” Phil slurred, standing up to his full height and, before Dan could protest, he brought him into a large hug. Dan was warm and stiff with shock, but Phil was too out of it to notice, pulling away after a moment to grin at him. “What’s up, mate?”

“Er-,” Dan stuttered, his cheeks turning red with a blush and his eyes flitting around the room. “What are you doing here? Do you need help?” He gestured to Phil’s shirt and Phil laughed, waving him off.

“‘S nothin’,” Phil told him. “Have you seen Nico?”

“Nico?” Dan echoed, confused.

Phil nodded and he furrowed his brow. “My boyfriend. He disappeared and I can’t find him.”

Dan shook his head and watched with growing concern as Phil stumbled forward, catching himself on Dan’s arm for support. “Do you, uh, need some help finding him?”

“Yes! You’re an angel!” Phil exclaimed excitedly, nodding his head until there was black hair in his eyes. He blinked it out of the way with frustration.

They started searching then, with Dan supporting a much-too-drunk Phil on his arm. Phil didn’t even have the right mind to be embarrassed that his own customer was seeing him in such a state. He didn’t really care about anything other than his lost boyfriend and the spinning room at the moment. Dan was quiet as well, a strange feat in itself as Dan was usually weirdly loud and flirtatious whenever Phil served him.

Once again, Phil didn’t pay any mind to it. But Dan did, leading Phil to a sofa in the corner of the room, and forcing Phil to sit down.

“Let’s just sit for a bit until you feel better, okay? Then we can find Nico.” Dan sat beside Phil, a tiny bit too close, but Phil didn’t mind. Dan was warm, and he liked warm. He melted into the touch.

“Oh Nico,” Phil sighed dramatically, resting his head on the back of the couch. He smiled, that same warmth emanating from Dan making a home in Phil’s belly at the thought of Nico. “He’s wonderful isn’t he? He always takes such good care of me.”

Dan shuffled a bit next to him, and he was probably uncomfortable, but he was listening to Phil anyway. What a great man. Phil was glad to know someone as nice as Dan. “Is that right? Tell me about Nico, then.”

“He’s just… I love him!” Phil exclaimed, pushing himself up from the couch in his excitement. A friendly and gentle hand on his wrist kept him from standing up, instead forcing him to sit back down. Phil slapped his hands on his lap to show just how much he loved Nico. “He’s so wonderful, Dan. I don’t think you understand, okay? He has these nice freckles that are like constellations and these pretty green eyes. He kisses like a God. We’ve only been dating for like a month and a half, but I could probably marry the guy.” Turning to face Dan, he stared into his soft brown eyes as seriously as he could muster. “Get you a man like that, Dan.”

The comment made Dan chuckle and rest his head in his hand, staring at Phil with amusement in his gaze. “Sounds like I definitely need a Nico in my life, then. I’ll make a note of it.”

This admittance caused Phil to rant a little bit longer about how wonderful Nico is and about how lucky Phil was to have him in his life. He knew that there was no way he could live without Nico by his side anymore, as a best friend and a lover. He’d become codependent on him already.

But halfway through his speech, Phil stopped. His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced around the room, looking for the man of his affections. “Where is Nico anyway?” he asked Dan as if Dan knew the answer.

Dan frowned, seemingly concerned. “I’m not really sure, tbh.”

Phil began to panic, tugging at his hair. His hands began to shake. “Where did he go? He promised not to leave me here. He promised!” He started to get irrationally angry, flames building in his chest until he couldn’t contain them anymore. He put his hands on Dan’s shoulders and shook him, a noise almost like a wail coming from his throat. “Why did he leave me by myself?! He knows I don’t like crowds!”

Panic flitted across Dan’s face and he gently removed Phil’s hands from his shoulders, petting them. “We’ll find him,” Dan promised, squeezing Phil’s hands gently. “For the meantime, I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you alone.”

There was an actual halo on Dan’s head, a light surrounding him, Phil was absolutely sure. He was an angel God sent from heaven, made specifically to bless Phil in all of his endeavors. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was in this moment to have someone like Dan looking out for him. He was so glad, in fact, that he started to tear up and had to wipe his eyes with his palm. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Phil said emotionally.

“Hey now, don’t cry,” Dan laughed, patting Phil on the back.

“You’re just… too good to be real.” Phil gasped, putting his hand to his mouth, eyes wide as saucers. “Are you real?”

“I can confirm I’m real,” Dan assured him, and Phil let out a disappointed ‘damn it’ because he kind of wanted Dan to be a ghost. That’d be cool.

Suddenly, a hand appeared on Phil’s wrist, gripping so hard that Phil let out a confused whine. He was yanked from the couch, out of Dan’s grip, and turned to look at his attacker with squinted eyes. It took him a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did, his face lit up. “Nico!” Phil squealed, ignoring the twinging pain in his wrist from where Nico was holding onto him. “I’m so sorry I lost you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

Nico wasn’t looking at him, his eyes instead narrowed at the space beside Phil. He was glaring at Dan, something akin to a challenge in his gaze. “You trying to fuck with my boyfriend?” Nico asked, venom in his tone.

Phil shook his head and put his hand on Nico’s chest in attempts to calm him down. Nico slapped his hand away. “He was trying to help me find you,” Phil assured his boyfriend. “He wasn’t trying to do anything weird. We just sat down cause I puked in a plant.” He started laughing hysterically at that, like it was the funniest thing he’d uttered all day, but Nico didn’t seem amused. In fact, he seemed a bit disgusted, looking Phil up and down as if he was inspecting him for any sign of puke on him.

“Why did you bring him here, dude?” Dan asked after a moment of silence. Both Phil and Nico turned to stare at him, but Dan didn’t back down. He was taller than Nico, but at the moment, Phil couldn’t help but think that Nico seemed much bigger in stature. “He’s clearly terrified of parties. So why’d you drag him here?”

Nico stared at Dan long and hard until Dan was shuffling uncomfortably and breaking eye contact. Phil cocked his head, confused about what was going on and sluggishly trying to keep up. “We agreed it would be fun to go to a party today. As a couple.” With that, Nico dragged Phil into him, an arm around his waist, one that was a bit too possessive. Phil was too drunk to notice.

Dan scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He was glaring at Nico, absolutely glaring, as if venom could seep into his gaze. “Right. Because he’s so obviously having fun. When I found him earlier, he was a right mess.”

“Hey!” Phil exclaimed, pouting.

“Stay out of this, sweet pea,” Nico growled, and the nickname was back, this time sounding like a way to tell Phil he was serious. He drew himself up and made himself bigger than Dan - somehow - until he was nearly looking down on him. “Who are you to tell me how to handle my relationship?”

Shaking his head, Dan let out a disbelieving snort. “I’m just saying, mate. If a stranger can tell that your own boyfriend isn’t having a good time, maybe they’re a better boyfriend than you ever were.” Phil gaped at Dan, the comment somehow sobering him up, and Nico went completely tense beside Phil.

He was silent for a good while, staring at Dan, looking him up and down in disgust. Phil couldn’t believe he had two grown men fighting over him. His drunken brain was ecstatic. “Phil, we’re leaving,” Nico said finally, after a few moments where he didn’t talk.

Phil’s brief excitement came to a halt. “What? But I just made a new friend,” Phil interjected, whining like a child being told they had to leave the park. Why did Nico want to leave all of a sudden? Wasn’t the party his idea after all?

“We’re leaving,” Nico ordered in a dictatorial tone, leaving no room for arguments.

Phil sighed and nodded, turning to grin widely at Dan. “I guess I’m leaving, then,” Phil told him as if Dan hadn’t been there the entire time. “Thanks for helping me find Nico. I’ll see you back at LaBella’s, okay?”

Dan grinned and nodded, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze was flickering between Phil’s face and the hand wrapped around Phil’s wrist, an uncertain expression flickering across his face. “I’ll see you around, Phil.”

Tugging harshly, Nico started to manhandle Phil away from the party. He whined a bit, complaining that Nico was hurting him, but Nico didn’t listen. He didn’t loosen his grip until they were a few blocks down the street, the music fading into the night sky. Only then did he release Phil’s wrist, which Phil immediately rubbed at. He could still feel the fingers pressed there, ingrained into his skin like a tattoo, and he pouted.

“That hurt,” Phil muttered again, stumbling after Nico. And then, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for.

Nico scoffed. “You deserved it,” he said under his breath.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Do you think I don’t know what’s going on, Phil?” Nico hissed. He wasn’t looking at Phil, seemingly trying to avoid glancing at him. “I could see the way he looked at you. Don’t try to act all innocent when you’re at a party acting like a fucking slut.”

“I- what?” Phil spluttered. This was too much for his drunk brain and he tripped and fell, his hands catching himself on the pavement. His palms burned where the cement cut him, blood starting to slowly seep from the wounds. Nico continued to walk as Phil tried to stand up by himself.

“You were going to cheat on me with that fucking loser,” Nico said matter-of-factly.

“No I wasn’t! I wouldn't do that!”

“Well you certainly look like you’re asking for it.” The comment made Phil look down at what he was wearing. He frowned deeply. He was only wearing a purple v-neck and skinny jeans. What was wrong with that? “Your shirt and tight jeans make you look like such a whore, Phil. I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t like this outfit,” Phil whispered. “You’re the one who picked it out.”

They were coming to Nico’s apartment now, the lights inside notifying Phil that his roommate was home. He was slightly embarrassed to be seen in his drunken and upset state, but Nico didn’t seem to care. He pushed open the door and led Phil inside, straight to his room. He didn’t pay any attention to Phil as he stumbled up the stairs behind Nico, and he certainly didn’t pay attention as he stormed past his roommate and into his room, a quiet Phil with bloodied hands drunkenly following.

Once inside with the door closed, Nico nodded at his shirt. “Take it off,” Nico instructed.

Phil gaped at him. “Why?”

“Because I hate that shirt,” Nico snapped.

The harshness of the tone made Phil’s mind begin to buzz. His drunken brain didn’t quite understand what was happening, and he suspected that was the reason he didn’t start crying right then and there. When Phil made no move to remove his shirt, Nico stepped forward and Phil didn’t know why he flinched as Nico reached for him.

Instead of grabbing him directly, he grabbed Phil’s shirt, a hand on each side of the collar. His eyes were dark as he tsked, and Phil stared back in confusion.

All of a sudden, Nico was pulling.

It took far longer than he should be proud of for Phil to realise what was happening.

One moment, he had a perfectly nice v-neck shirt, and the next moment, the shirt was ripped in half and falling from his shoulders.

“You- you ripped my favourite shirt!” Phil choked out. He was more shocked than anything, his eyes so wide that they stung. He could hardly believe what had just happened and he didn’t know if this was something his drunken mind had conjured up in his sleep.

Instead of answering, Nico just took the remains of Phil’s shirt and threw them under the bed. He wouldn’t meet Phil’s eyes. “Let’s go to sleep,” he said.

In his shocked and drunken state, Phil didn’t argue. His hands were still bleeding. His head was absolutely killing from the knock he’d taken earlier. But he was far too exhausted, too confused, too upset to think about cleaning up. Instead, he fell onto the bed like he was welcoming his lover and let the sweet darkness of sleep take him.

They woke up in each other’s arms. At some point in the night, Nico had given in and curled around Phil, his head nestled into Phil’s neck. The gentle puffs of breath over his skin tickled, but Phil didn’t complain because he was too happy that Nico was finally paying attention to him again.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Nico said when they woke up in each other's arms. “I must have drunk too much. I hardly even remember anything.”

Phil laughed it off, albeit a bit uneasily, nursing his headache with a cup of too-sweet coffee. “It’s okay, we both must have been rather out of it.” Phil smiled over at Nico and Nico smiled back. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nico murmured, swooping in and pressing a soft kiss to Phil’s lips.

The gesture made Phil melt, and he almost even forgot about his hangover. Even though he did end up missing his Friday morning class.

Chapter Six

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