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jungkookstatts · 1 year

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University Superstar

[Summary]: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…

[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, lots of hickies, mentions of blowjob, consistent flirting, JK is an extreme asshole (he actually got on my nerves for some of it lol), insensitive JK, lots of passion, squirting, kissing, pining after one another (mainly JK)

[Word Count]: 10,291

[Author’s Note]: I didn’t plan on making Y/n an education major…? But then I was thinking of JK in a bomber jacket and jock x teacher!AU and…yeah no, it had to happen.

[Masterlist] [Sequel] [Drabble (1), (2), (3)]

Jeon Jungkook.

The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.

“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-sprit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.

“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”

“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since a few weeks ago.

You think this might be the 5th time this week he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.

The amount of explaining you still have to do to your coworkers, and even your kindergartner students, is exhausting. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the captain of your Universities lacrosse team, probably the most popular guy on campus…one of “the hottest” guys in the school (according to your coworker and best friend, Aecha)

You remember asking her a while back why he was always “the talk of the town”, and all she could say was: “Well, look at him. How could he not be?”

You get it. He is hot. But that doesn’t stop you from absolutely hating his guts. Not after he spilled his hot, black coffee all over your white shirt and pants a few weeks ago. Not after he stained all of your precious student’s artwork with his scorching hot Americano.

You were on your way to the school to hang them up in your classroom. Stopping at your University library’s coffee shop, you decided to start your day with a little bit of matcha before you decorated your space.

Your students had just completed a “What I Love About Me” project, and their responses literally made you cry…maybe made you ugly cry. So innocent and honest in their responses, this project was probably the most precious to your heart. You had wished you did something like this back when you were so young. Maybe then you would have a reminder on your bad days what younger you always admired before nasty comments and puberty hit your system.

So, when Jeon Jungkook completely drenched them in his black coffee, your stained (and very expensive) white work shirt and pants didn’t even matter. The sopping-wet look of your student’s artwork made you fight to gulp back tears. But you couldn’t help the water that begged to break free from behind your eyelids.

“Oohh!” he laughs, the stupid jock in him making a scene. “Jeez! I’m sorry.” you can feel the antagonizing smirk on his lips as he looks at what he’s done to you. “Here, let me get a napkin,”

Jungkook exits your line of vision and you try to make your way out of the library before he comes back. But, ever the athlete he is, Jungkook is back before you can blink with a giant wad of the coffee shop’s crappy brown napkins.

You don’t even know who is talking to you until you take the napkins from his hands, recognizing those ugly, stupid, hot hand tattoos. Who couldn’t recognize them when the whole university makes Jungkook’s tattoos each and every one of its personality traits?

The realization of your perpetrator being Jeon Jungkook only makes you more upset. Had it been anyone else, the hurt in your heart from your damaged projects might have been less painful.

You immediately start wiping off your student’s projects, placing them on the nearest table and patting them dry, trying your best not to smear the Crayola marker on some of them.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles to himself again. “Nice line work. Didchya draw those?”

“Please, stop talking.” you spit at him. Finally, you look up at his face, hoping he gets the point.

You think he does, because the minute he catches your gaze, his face freezes. The look adorning your features was angry, but that tear in your eye from what he did to your papers made you really upset. Which, for some reason, made Jungkook's heart clench. Hoping he can’t see the tears trying to break free from your eyelids, you look back down and continue your previous actions.

“I-I, um,” he stutters, his voice much meeker than what it antagonized you with just moments ago. “Look, is there anything I can do? A free drink? New clothes? A personal invitation to Min Yoongi’s New Year’s Party? An escort around the men’s lacrosse team's locker room? …During uniform change?”

“Thanks, but the best thing you can do is leave,” you reply. Just about done drying your projects up the best you can, you gather them in your arms and face the man once again. This time, you stare at his face for more than just a few seconds. You hate that he’s handsome; it only makes it harder to stop looking at the playful smirk forming on his lips from mentioning the men’s locker rooms.

“You sure? Heard this year’s party is supposed to be a banger.” he bribes, the mole under his bottom lip showing as he smiles.

“Min Yoongi is a close friend. I am invited to his parties every year. Now, I have to go—”

“No way?!” he exclaims, the permed dark curls over his eyes bouncing as he places a large hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off, but he acts like he did nothing wrong at all. “How come I haven’t seen you before? I’d totally recognize you. You’re smokin', by the way.”

Your lips and nose cringe at his statement.

“I don’t usually go,” you explain. “Now, please move before I push you out of my way myself.”

“Hah!” he laughs. “Like you could. Hey, are you an elementary teacher or just a shitty artist?”

“I’m not answering that,” you say.

His comment hurts you. This is precious art to you. The fact that he has no regard—didn’t even say sorry meaningfully—for your papers that you are obviously upset about makes your heart sink. All you can see are the faces of your students.

“Okay, well, that offer for a free drink, or clothes, or uh—oh yeah. The men’s locker room deal,” he winks. “Is still on the table.”

“I’ll pass,” you flash a tight-lipped smile his way before brushing a shoulder past him and exiting the library.

The first tear makes its way down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off before anyone has the chance to see it. You think Jungkook might have through the window of the shop, but you assume he is looking at his order number he placed for a new coffee on the screen above it. It would appear more fitting. He clearly has no care in the world that he did something that made someone else upset. From his own actions. But are you really surprised that he wouldn’t care?

The rest of your walk to the elementary school is filled with blasting music in your headphones and a scowl on your face. What was once sadness is now anger. You’re angry. So fucking angry. Your blood is boiling.

“How could he?” you exclaim as you barge into the teacher’s lounge.

“Woah—” Aecha observes. “Is this a new print or something?” she asks, referring to your white-brown shirt and pants. “Please don’t tell me this is a new ‘thing’? No offense, but it’s kind of ug—”

“No, it’s that stupid Jungkook-jock-fuckboy-asshole-bitch—”

You silently thank an existing god that the kids have off today.

“Jeon Jungkook?” Aecha’s jaw drops.

“Don’t even start. I hate that man. Look what he did,” you seethe, slapping your student’s projects on the table.

“Awww,” Aecha’s eyes go beady, her fingers delicately shifting through the precious artwork. “Did he ruin them?”

“Yes,” you fight the urge to swipe all the shit on the coffee bar onto the floor. “Yes, he did. And now I have to give these back to the kids, hoping that when they’re 15 years older they can actually make out what it's saying.”

“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “That’s really shitty. Did he apologize?” she asks, sorting through the damp papers. “They don’t look too distraught. I can still read them,” she assures you.

“He apologized as the third phrase he said to me. The first was an ‘Oohh!’ accompanied by a mocking laugh and then a ‘jeez!’ Didn’t even realize I didn’t care about my damn shirt until he pointed out how ‘shitty my artwork was’.”

“Wow,” she gapes. “That’s totally Jungkook, that’s for sure,” she nods in agreement, thinking upwards. “You know, now that I’m imagining the scenario, it’s kinda hot.”

“Aecha!”

“Okay listen,”

“No, I won’t.”

“Okay, fine,” she gives up. You dig underneath the coffee cabinet, pulling out a spare hairdryer and plugging it into the wall. Your school is filled with mostly women teachers, so finding something like this in a coffee room is not that unordinary here. The room is soon loud with the sound of the machine as your try to dry them completely. “You going to Yoongi’s party, by the way?” she asks you.

You remember Jungkook’s offer to invite you to said party. You scoff at the memory. What was once a plan to tell Yoongi that you were, in fact, going to attend...is now a “no” from you. Not when you know Jungkook will be there. He is always there, just too drunk to remember you, probably. He even danced with you a few times, grinding on your ass with a beer in his hand and his other on your waist.

You remember it all too well. That was back when you had positive thoughts about the man. But then he became the captain of the lacrosse team. And then he became obsessed with the amount of “get out of jail free” cards he suddenly obtained from his popularity, hotness, and good standing on the school board. When you heard about what he was like from Aecha, your friends, the school news, YouTube, etc., you stopped finding him fancy. You couldn’t see the same man you saw that night. Especially not with how he treated you just an hour ago. Sad, but you washed away any hint of a crush you might've had on him after then.

“No, not anymore,” you reply, loudly speaking over the blow dryer. It is loud enough to where you don’t need to yell, but you wouldn’t be able to hear her response if you both talked normally.

“What?!” she drops her shoulders in disappointment. “But Hoseok is going to be there…you told me you’d go with me if he was!”

You know Aecha has been chasing after Hoseok since she first talked with him at last year's party. She doesn’t know anyone else who is going besides Yoongi and Hoseok. Being they’re both men, she doesn’t know if she feels 100% comfortable going alone, even though you and her both know they would never dare to hurt her or make her feel unsafe. It is more of a girl code—arriving and leaving together—than it is anything else. So you understand.

You had forgotten about said agreement, and you groan in frustration. Now, you have no other choice.

“Y/n, I need to bag this man. I need to,” her voice is laced with determination. “I am like—I am tired of waiting and this is my one last chance and—”

“Okay!” you hush her. “Fine, I’ll go.

She claps her hands and does a happy dance. You wish you could find her reaction endearing, but now you’re dreading the upcoming events of this party.

----

The week is going by fine until you get unexpected amounts of bouquets and Edible Arrangements all addressed to you from…Jungkook. You send them all back, just to get an angered Jungkook storming into your office a few days later.

“You know how expensive those were?!” he half-shouts at you. He quiets his voice, noticing the quiet setting he is in. However, he doesn’t seem to care that he has intruded on your space during your work time. He closes the door to your office anyways, trapping you in it with him.

“How did you get this address…and how do you know I work here?” you interrogate, going back to typing on your computer. The things you type are a mix of keyboard slam and words you’re thinking, faking work at its finest because some abnormally hot jock-asshole needs to make it known that his gifts are not to be returned.

“Min Yoongi is a man of many talents,” he responds. Taking a seat in one of the chairs across from your desk, you watch him as he plays with your nameplate on your desk. “Ms. Y/n L/n. Cute.”

You snatch the gold engraved tag out of his hands and place it back on the desk where it was before. “Please don’t touch my thi—”

“So, you are a teacher, then, I suppose?” he interrupts you. You don’t know it, but Jungkook is really trying here. It took a lot and nothing at all for him to walk in here. Truthfully, he has no idea how to apologize to you. A simple, sincere, “sorry” would probably do it. But he even practiced it in the mirror. Literally impossible. It’s like his mouth was forbidden to say the word without gagging at himself.

Apologizing was never his strong suit. Before coming to college, he was a good boy. Sweet and kind, never once a popular kid until he hit puberty and was suddenly his high school’s prom king. That’s when he started doing things he is not that proud of. It became a habit, but the good boy in him has a hard time practicing apologizing. Mainly because... he never really had to do it before becoming a total high school popular kid and a university super-star player.

But he really fucked up this time. And, he was hoping you would just let it go like people always seem to do when he can’t admit things correctly. But after seeing that tear fall down your face after you left the shop, that clench in his heart followed as you walked away. He couldn't stop thinking about how bad he felt all week. Those really meant something to you and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to admit he was being an asshole.

“I am,” you reply. “You here for some lessons?”

“Stop,” he grins. “Teacher—student sex has always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Please,” you scoff at him. The audacity. “As if I’d fulfill that for you.”

“A man can only dream,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, well keep doing that. What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I want to know why you sent back my flowers. And my Edible Arrangement! I was fighting the urge not to just eat it when I picked it out for you.”

Truthfully, you were too. You love Edible Arrangements.

“Because I don’t want your sympathy because you realized you were an asshole,”

“Why not?”

“Because none of that matters to me. I’m not an ex-girlfriend who caught you cheating on me. I’m just a stranger you met last week. I want an apology. An honest apology from you. And that’s it.” you explain.

Jungkook puffs his cheeks out.

“You’re difficult,” he raises his eyebrows. “I like that,” he smirks at you.

“I don’t have time for your flirting, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. “Please go home.”

The next time he comes in is around 3pm the following day. The kids are out of school by then, but all your coworkers are still here. So is Jungkook, apparently. Aecha tells you he’s been talking it up with the principal since he got here.

You groan, hoping he is just here to speak with the principal and not you. It is a farfetched hope, though. You don’t know what business he has with the principal, or anyone else here besides you, for that matter.

It is around 5 when he barges into your office again. You’re packing up your things, dreams crushed when you thought you could exit work without running into the alleged lacrosse star.

“Hey, sexy,” he flirts, eyeing your flowy, loose, figure-hiding, ugly, dark-brown art dress. You roll your eyes again, knowing he’s making fun of you. It was art day, and you had to wear your paint-stained art-apron dress. It’s the only one you don’t care about other than the shirt he ruined just a week ago.

You ignore his comment, zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Reconsidering tutoring?” you mock. Jungkook laughs at you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You’re really cute when you mock him. It kinda gets him going.

“How’s about 9:00pm next Saturday at Min Yoongi’s?” he asks, trying to get you to go to the party again. Little does he know that you’re going. But you don’t want to amuse him too much.

“Funny,” you banter, making your way to the door. But he blocks your path, his arms resting against the door frame as he stares down at you with those white teeth and bunny eyes. You want to squish his cheek between your forefinger and thumb for reasons you don’t understand. All he has done is make fun of, flirt, and annoy you since you two met. Why do you feel the heat in your cheeks when he slips a finger underneath your chin, dark eyes staring into your soul? Why does your heartbeat in your throat when you look at the glossiness of his lips so close to your own?

You back away, releasing yourself from his flirtatious actions.

“What if I begged on my knees?” he blurts out.

You snort out in laughter at that. The thought of Jungkook: the tall, big guy with tattoos and an award-winning lacrosse scholarship? On his knees in front of you? Begging you to go to some party? That’s rich.

Jungkook blushes harder at your laughs. Fuck, your laugh is so cute. He wants to make you laugh like this a lot. Maybe forever, even. You’re music to his ears.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. “Think I can’t?”

“Please,” you smile wide, a hand covering your mouth, trying not to muster up any more laughs. “That would be too much. You sure you want to pleasure me?”

Jungkook’s mouth grows dry. Um…yes?? He would, in fact, like to pleasure you. Maybe not in that way, but he’d do it if it meant you were pleased with him. Fuck! If only he could admit things properly.

“Um, no, never mind” he goes against his wish. “I don’t think I could stand the content look on your face.” He totally could??? What the hell is he saying?!?

Jungkook runs a hand through his thick, brown locks, looking at you as you die down your laughter. If only you knew he’s been after you since two New Year’s parties ago. You think he doesn’t remember, but he totally does. The way your hips swayed against his, pressing your ass into his front. He remembers how soft your skin felt underneath his tattooed hand. All he remembered is how he wanted to mark you up, kiss the skin of your lips, neck, and shoulders and claim it as his own. But he had one too many drinks that night, and he found himself passed out on Min Yoongi’s couch the next morning. Jungkook started off the New Year with his clothes on, cheeks flushed, a terrible hangover, and no sight of you anywhere.

He had been trying to find you for a while on campus, but little did he know you were all the way on the opposite side of it in the Education sector. When you didn’t show up to Yoongi’s New Year’s Party the following year, he realized he may never see you again. Until he ruined your clothes. And your valuables. And your heart. And god-knows-what else. If only apologizing didn’t completely break his fragile ego, maybe he would be kissing you right now. Maybe he could have been spending all his time kissing you and holding you every day since the incident.

“Whatever you say, fuckboy,” you smile at him. “Now let me go — and stop coming into my office. It’s annoying.”

“Principle Green is actually so rad, though. I might come back just for him,” he comments, moving out of your way.

“I don’t care who is rad, I don’t want you interrupting my work.”

“Oh, so I’m a distraction?”

“No, you’re a nuisance,”

“Ouch,”

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you flash him a grin, turning off the lights in your office. You look at Aecha in the teacher's lounge where you exit. She is completely baffled, eyes wide, her mouth dropped, and her bagel falling out of her hands and onto the table. Cream-cheese side down. She heard everything, and you know what she’s thinking.

Luckily, you can leave without either of them making conversation with you.

Entering your car, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. You look at yourself in your sun blocker's mirror. Cheeks red and lips cracked from all the laughing, you’re a total mess! As if your crush on Jungkook is coming back. It can’t be. He’s a total asshole now.

But a charming asshole.

Fuck! Stop it, y/n. You can’t do this to yourself.

And so, you don’t. You blast your music and drive away, pretending you don’t see a waving, smiling Jungkook from the school’s entrance in your rearview mirror.

----

Three knocks on your door and an uninvited Jungkook makes his way into your office. Again.

Jeon Jungkook.

The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.

Last night, after Jungkook’s daily visit to your office (one that ended up with a 3-hour conversation about how Thor is the best Avenger next to Spider-Man), you realized that it’s been almost two weeks since you met him in the coffee shop. Almost two weeks and you have yet to receive a proper apology like you had asked him to give you the first time he visited you at work.

This is the 7th visit since two weeks ago, and still no apology. Despite his charm and how easily you were almost tricked into letting it all go, you remembered you were still supposed to be mad at him. And that you should still be mad at him no matter how many bunny-smiles, flirtatious comments, and talks about the Avengers and Principle Green that shoots straight to your heart. And to other places…

“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-spirit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.

“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”

You think this might be the 5th time since Sunday he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.

“Woah, why the ‘tude?” he defends, putting his palms up as he slides back into his “designated” chair in your office.

“There is no ‘tude.”

“There totally is ‘tude!”

You glare at him from over your laptop screen. "See!” he points at your scowl.

“Jungkook, get out please,” you sigh. You really don’t want to deal with his antics today.

“What? Why?” he asks you. His voice is defensive like you just told him his dick is short and thin. Which, it totally is not by the way. He’d tell you about it, but it doesn’t appear like you’re up for that conversation.

“Because, Jungkook, I’m done with this.”

“With what?" he scoffs. "We’re not even a ‘this’,” he says the last part with finger air quotes.

“Exactly, so please stop visiting me. I don’t want your distractions to make me forget about the fact that you still haven’t apologized.”

“Oh, please, y/n,” he drags out a laugh, slouching on your chair. “I don’t even need to apologize. They were just some shitty drawings. I can assure you that if you go back into that classroom and call an ‘art sesh’ they’d make up a bunch of equally as shitty pieces for you.”

You can feel your fingers nearly breaking the screen of your laptop before shutting it close. You stand up in your seat, motioning your finger toward the door. “Get out.”

Jungkook knows he stepped over the line with that one. He really doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. He knows those meant something to you! Why is he acting like he doesn’t? Why does he choose to say words that hurt you? It only hurts him, knowing that even though he wants so badly to be the person that comforts you and who tells you you’re okay; saying the opposite is only going to make it worse.

Duh!

Right now, he wants to beat himself up so badly that he’s lost the ability to speak another word.

That clenching feeling he has in his chest is back. He can see the anger in your heart, reaching out to protect the innocence of your students. It’s endearing, really. But he’s in the crossfire. And he’s on the side of your wrath he doesn’t want to be on. He’s the reason you’re protecting your students in their absence. He is the reason why you might never forgive him for this one.

“Y/n, I,” he stutters, standing up. He really thinks he’s about to apologize until something within himself blocks him from doing so again. His heart wants to say it, but his egotistical brain isn’t allowing him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean it as?” you ask him. Hands running through your hair, you laugh at yourself in disbelief. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m asking you that. I don’t even know why I expect anything from you at all. All you’ve been doing since you got your damn scholarship and your damn popularity has been treating others like how you are treating me right now. Like their feelings don’t matter, like no one else exists in this world besides Jeon Jungkook. Maybe if you had a project like the one I assigned to my students, then maybe you’d have a reason to look back on what it means to be kind to others. Maybe you’d realize that people get hurt because of people like you. Me included. So please, leave my office and don’t show your face in this school ever again.”

Jungkook is at a loss for words. What can he say? You called his bluff. He taught himself how to block out others as a defense mechanism a long time ago. Its consequence: confidence as a new defense mechanism. Confidence is always good, right? So why it felt wrong when he started showing that side of him 100% more than it was before was beyond him. And, well, this is why it felt so wrong. He's lost the ability to humble himself down. And he hurt you because of it. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it. If only he knew how to balance himself properly.

Jungkook leaves your office, not batting an eye at you, feeling like a student who just got expelled. The jock in him would say it was hot, but that part of him is not there. Nothing but shame fills his body. He feels ashamed of himself. Especially as he catches light of one of the coffee-stained projects on the lounge-room walls.

[I love my _______ because it makes me feel ________] is the prompt. This one had the most outrageous spelling he thinks he’s ever seen. Backward “e”’s and random capitalization and sizing and all. But he makes out “heart’ and “wanted”.

Something in him pulls on his heartstrings again. He can see why those projects meant so much to you. Just that one simple response was enough to feel regret all the way from the follicles of his scalp to his big toe, as if he didn’t regret it already. How is he going to make it up to you? He has no idea. But he can’t lose sight of you, even when he knows he's pissed you off and hurt you. He has to find a way to make it right.

He has to apologize. Sincerely. Like he’s been practicing in the mirror and with his roommates, Taehyung and Jin, for the past two weeks. It’s easier with them. They don’t make his heart beat abnormally fast. They don’t send smiles (other than teasing, antagonizing ones that make him feel embarrassed and give up) that make him want to kiss you until you’re breathless beneath him.

But he needs to. And it needs to happen soon.

----

“So,” you smile at Aecha across your kitchen counter. She’s wearing the skimpiest hot pink dress you have ever seen. No doubt trying to be a tease for Hoseok. No one would guess she’s a preschool teacher with the way she’s dressed. “What’s the plan?”

She turns around, pinning the last bobby pin in her stiff, hair-sprayed-bobby pinned high bun.

“Okay,” she smiles. “We go in, right? Then I see Hoseok. Then we dance. Then we kiss. Then we f—”

“Okay!” you stop her, laughing. “I get it. Go in, dance, fuck. What do I do?”

“Hmmm,” she thinks. “Drink?? Get high? Maybe mock my actions on a certain captain of the lacrosse team…?”

You give her a knowing look.

“I know!” she puts her hands up. “Was just a thought.”

A great thought, at that. You’ve been wanting to jump his bones since three New Year's parties ago. But you’ve long accepted that’s no longer on your agenda. Jungkook has proven to you that he is a lost cause. You can’t expect anything from him, no matter how charming his smile is, no matter how well he dances, or how his touch makes butterflies flow through every vein in your body.

You have to put him in the back of your mind and move on. Maybe tonight you can find someone to do that with.

“You know that guy from Bread Club?” you ask her, fingers pinching the skin between your eyebrows in thought.

“Which one? That club was full of male nerd—oh! The hot one? Park Jimin?” she recalls.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Him! Do you know if he is coming?”

“Oooooo,” she coos at you. “Does y/n see a potential crush on bread-boy Jimin?”

“Not a crush. Although, he is really handsome.” you blush. “I just never gave him a proper chance.”

“You’re right. I did suspect an underlying mutual attraction. My guess would be that he is going. I’m pretty sure he’s with that whole group. If I’m not mistaken, I want to say he’s Taehyung’s brother. Tae rooms with Jungkook and Jin.”

“Ah,” you nod, understanding the explanation. Although, all you hear is Jungkook. You hate that even his name in a conversation not even about him puts a sad feeling in your heart. You really do pity him. You also really want to forgive him. But after what he said back in your office, you don’t think you have the means to. His words hurt. They always do. But, he doesn’t know how to apologize. At least not to you. You remember how Aecha was surprised when you explained the situation and told her that he still hasn’t apologized since the incident. It made you wonder if you were the only person he refuses to apologize to.

“Okay, I’m ready. We both look hot. Let’s go,” Aecha says, matter-of-fact. She slaps her pocket mirror closed and shoves it into her purse.

----

You arrive at the sickest party Min Yoongi has ever hosted. Jungkook was right, this year’s party is a banger. Endless drinks, endless space for dancing, endless games, and endless men…boy you have many options tonight.

Aecha claps your shoulder in excitement, telling you that she sees her prey. You understand, letting her make her progress towards bagging Hoseok.

You continue smiling until your eyes land on Jungkook’s. He’s at the beer pong table, a beer in one hand and a pong in the other, ready to throw his next shot. Although, his progress towards throwing it stops when he sees you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep looking at him. Dressed in all black with silver accents accompanying his wrists, ears, eyebrows, and lips. One could say he completely complemented your own outfit.

The fact only makes your heart hurt more. Why? You don’t know. You dropped him. He’s done. Wasn’t even a crush for longer than a day three years ago. Why you’re so hung up on him, you don’t know. The realization has you tearing your eyes away from his man-bun that looks too perfect framing his face, and onto the drinks in the room next to you.

You grab a shot or two. Or three. Or four. But who’s counting? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re single, have nothing to lose, and have strange feelings toward a man you want to forget. Tonight is the night to get so wasted that you end up achieving that goal.

You think you will be successful when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning around, your eyes meet with Park Jimin’s. The bread-boy. Just the man you wanted to see tonight.

“Jimin!” you hug him. “No way! How long has it been since we baked banana nut bread together?!”

Jimin laughs out loud, hugging you back. “About a year, I’d say,” he smiles. His smile is really cute, reaching from cheek to cheek with that insanely addicting voice of liquid he uses to coat his words. “You’re looking really good tonight, Y/n.” Maybe he will be your saving grace tonight, after all.

“Thanks,” you smile. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

“Glad to know you’re pleased.”

“I am,” you smirk. “Somewhat.”

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Come,” you change the subject. For some reason, flirting with Jimin feels wrong. Even though you want parts of him, even though you want to be able to flirt with him, something about it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the intense eyes you feel at the back of your head when you dance on Jimin in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe it’s when you kiss Jimin that you feel as if you’re imagining it’s Jungkook who you’re pressing your lips to.

It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.

But Jimin touches you like it is right, and you feel somewhat assured until an extra hand is pulling you away from him. Suddenly, you’re drunken vision sees Jimin standing on the dance floor moving farther and farther away from you as this mystery person takes you away from him. Stumbling to keep up with this person’s pace, you turn around and attempt to pry off the strong arm that wraps around your wrist.

“Wha-What do you—who are you?” you ask this person. It isn’t until you realize that the person’s arm is tattooed. It isn’t until you realize that these tattoos are familiar and that they belong to Jeon Jungkook. “Jungkook, let go!”

To which he does, but only when he’s pulled you out of the house and into the alleyway between another house and Yoongi’s. Jungkook pins you against the wall, his forearms pressing against the brick next to your ears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, voice low and eyes foreboding. Those eyes you’ve never seen before. They’re dark and angry; far, far away from his playful innocent-looking ones. They scare you a little. But you’ve always been good at facing your fears.

“I’m having fun,” you respond, not a smidge of the jitters you're feeling consuming your voice. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t make any mistakes,” he responds.

“Hah!” you laugh, the alcohol causing you to tilt your head back harshly. You forget there’s brick there, and you’re thankful Jungkook’s reflexes are fast enough to slide his hand beneath your head before it smacked against the brick. “You’re so funny, Kook. You know, that’s actually a good idea. Because the last time I danced on someone like that was with you. And I really regret that.”

Jungkook’s heart pangs in his chest, showing how your words affected him so by closing in on you. His face towers over yours, even though he’s been trying to keep his height as level with you as he can by bending his body at his hips to match your own height. But the closer he gets, the taller he becomes, and the more you have to look up in order to look into his eyes.

You can smell the cologne on his body along with the faint smell of booze on his breath. You hate how his scent makes you fawn over him. All you want to do is kiss him silly. But you’re still mad at him. You're still arguing with him right now.

“You don’t,” he scowls, more so at himself for letting it get this far. The sight of Jimin holding you like that when it was supposed to be him made his blood boil. Fury grew in his veins as he realized he needed to make this right. Right now. Before it’s too late and you’re truly moving on.

“And what if I do, Jungkook?” you lower your voice, words feeling heavy on your mouth. “What if I regret letting my feelings continuously be hurt by you?”

“And what if I told you that I regret it,” he holds your chin in his fingers. “Saying those things to you. I do, y/n. I regret it, and I don’t know why I kept saying those things. And I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

You pause at his apology. Are you hearing this right? Did Jeon Jungkook just apologize to you? Twice??

“W-Well,” you stutter. Tears start to brim your eyes again for reasons you don’t understand. Maybe because you’re a crybaby. Maybe because this was your reason for not chasing after the man you liked so much. Maybe because his apology gives you the ‘go’ for smashing your lips onto his, feeling his honey lips collide with yours.

They’re just as soft as you imagined they would be. And god, is he a good kisser. His lips alone make a pool in your panties. Your hands slide around his neck, fingertips intertwining in his tied-up locks.

Jungkook’s body nearly stutters when you kiss him. Out of all things, this was the last he expected. Maybe a well-deserved slap or a kick on the shin, but never the feeling of your embrace.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain one bit. He’s been dying to feel you. Your lips on his was an imagery he thought he would never have the chance to live out. But, here you are, holding his body close and kissing him like he is the last person you will ever have the chance to kiss in your life.

Desperation crawls into his veins, lifting you up around his waist, and pressing you against the wall.

He’s been craving this for far too long. Craving you for too long. Jungkook can’t stop touching you, your body is just as soft as he remembered. His curiosity begs him to explore more and more of you. But he’s done enough without your permission. So he waits, continuing to kiss you until you take control.

“I’ve been dying to have you like this,” you say between trailing kisses down to his neck. Jungkook moans as you find his sweet spot, and you think it was the prettiest thing you have ever heard in your lifetime. Sucking on the spot, he raises his chest, trying to control his pleasure but nonetheless fails when you bite down on him.

“Y-Y/n,” he calls out your name, just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles your name on the shell of your ear, and you think you might have gushed arousal out of your cunt. “Not here,” he pants, trapping your chin between his fingers again. He motions your jaw up to his, tempting himself with light scrapes of his lips touching yours. “I don’t want anyone else to see you.”

“Then where?” you whisper back at him. It is so hard not to smash your lips onto his again, but you want this to continue. And if Jungkook wants you where no one but himself can see you, then you’re bound to be wherever that is.

“My place,” he brushes his nose against your cheek before returning your trail of kisses on his neck back to yours. “No one’s home. I brought a car.” He sucks your neck, leaving bruises all over. He's determined to find not just one sweet spot of yours, but to find them all.

“Wh-Why not the car?” you ask between moans. Jungkook is so good at this. He’s suede and smooth with his touches, hot and passionate with his kisses. He knows how to make you puddy in his hands.

Jungkook chuckles in your ear. “Not with the things I want to do to you,” he bites down on your neck, eliciting a sweet panted moan from your throat. “That won’t work.”

“Then let’s go,” you hold his neck firmly in your palms, stopping him from his parade of kisses. “I don’t want to waste more time.”

“Someone’s eager,” Jungkook smirks, kissing you once before setting you down and taking his keys out of his pocket.

“You have no idea.”

----

The ride over to Jungkook’s is spent palming him in the driver’s seat and Jungkook struggling to focus on the road. He’s not as consumed with alcohol as you might be, even though the effects of it on you stopped midway through making out with Jungkook back at Yoongi’s.

You know you’re doomed when the car abruptly stops. His fist pushes the stick into park, and he rips open the car door, walking around the front of it to come over to you.

You’re still tipsy, however. So, when you’re met with Jungkook’s erection right in your face you can’t help but laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” he asks you, a little pissed off at your laughter. It’s hot.

Trailing a finger on the zipper to his black jeans, you outline the length of his cock slowly, admiring its size right in front of you. You dream of it fucking you, as if the man in front of you wasn’t on a mission to check that off your list right now.

“You’re so big,” you sigh like a teenage girl. “I want you inside of me, Jungkook,” you smirk, looking up at him from the passenger seat. Jungkook swears his heart leaps out of his chest. He thinks his voice might crack if he says another word, so he clears his throat, dick twitching simultaneously, before he responds.

“Then, c’mon,” he takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the car. “We’re here.” Jungkook smiles at you sweetly. He almost thinks that he should just wait until the morning to fuck you because of your tipsy-drunk moment until you’re kissing and palming him again. Jungkook moans into your mouth, stumbling with you toward his townhome’s entrance. Key fob in hand, Jungkook presses it underneath the door nob, hearing a sound of approval from the security system not long after.

“Teasing me in the car,” he growls against your ear, pushing you against the nearest wall once the door to his home shuts. “You think you weren’t going to get punished for that?”

All you can do is moan. Jungkook’s hands waste no time ripping off every piece of clothing you have on, dying to see you in all your glory.

“Holy fuck,” he pants. It’s almost as if he’s cumming his pants right now at the sight of you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/n,”

You can’t help but blush a little, his glare on you makes you think that he’s not actually saying these things about your body. Not this man. Not the ripped, 6-packed athlete with incredible strength and muscles that could pop you with one headlock around the neck. Maybe it's the booze.

“Take your clothes off, fuckboy,” you demand.

Jungkook shimmies off his black blazer, eyes still on your tits. He wants to suck them and leave marks all over the softness of them. He wants you to be completely covered in him tomorrow morning.

“Don’t call me that,” he walks closer to you, trapping your naked body between his half-clothed one. “I’m not a fuckboy.” he replies, taking off his mock-turtle neck tanktop. You thought it was tight enough on him before, but the sight of his muscles underneath the shirt makes you realize that the shirt did not do him enough justice. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook was this ripped. He basically has boobs. He could probably fit into your bra…

“Then what are you?” you ghost against his lips.

He would like to say “yours”, but he remembers that you’re still tipsy. Would you agree to that? Do you still hate him? He'd like to think 'no' considering how you two are both eager to have each other right now, but he's got a lot of things to ask and make up to you before any titles are made. So he holds off.

“We can decide that in the morning,” he settles on, flashing you a small smile before delving into your lips. His chest is firm against yours, his back so wide, you struggle to wrap your arms around it as he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom.

His room is just as you expected it would be. Covered in trophies and pictures, as neat and organized as you expected. But what really catches you off guard is how comfortable his bed is. The smell of him engulfs you as he gently places you on his bed. You think about how this night would be if you decided to fuck in the car. How you wouldn't be able to see this view on top of you so clearly if you did. You’re thankful Jungkook insisted on his bedroom. Now, you can see his handsome face clearly in the lighting of his room as he pulls his pants down to his ankles, leaving himself in a pair of white Calvins. They do nothing to hide the length and girth of his cock, and you shutter knowing that he’s going to completely rip you open.

“Don’t worry, I’ll prep you,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your worry. Jungkook’s lips find your neck again, gently kissing his previously left bruises before leaving more of them on the areas of your clavicle and chest.

“What if I don’t want to be prepped?” you whimper, back arching into his chest when his mouth engulfs your nipple, sucking on it hard. “W-What if I want you ri-right now?”

Jungkook laughs deeply as he twirls your nipple around with his tongue. He releases you with a quick “pop”, which makes your head fall back in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook’s body moving up to come face-to-face with yours. “Patience,” he gives you a quick kiss. “I refuse to hurt you any more than I have already.”

“Jungkook,” you coo, holding his jaw in your palm. He looks ashamed of himself. You’ve never seen this side of him, and it feels good knowing that he does harbor those kinds of feelings. Especially since he is comfortable with you seeing him display them. “I forgive you, Kook.”

“You shouldn’t,” he buries his face in your neck again, kissing you lightly as his hand trails down to your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit. You moan when he starts circling slow infinities on the sensitive bud.

“But I do, Jungkook,” you pant, hand coming up to drag your fingers through his hair. You pull out his bun, watching as his hair falls over the crown of his head and onto your skin. It smells like coconut, and you can’t help but bury your nose in it as he continues to gather your juices on his fingertips.

“I was bad to you,” he grumbles against your neck. This time, his fingers circle your entrance. Legs wrapping around his hips, you invite his fingers inside, to which he obliges. Just his index finger feels you first. Jungkook ruts against the mattress at the feeling, imagining the walls that squeeze his finger tight around his cock. Yeah, you definitely need prepping.

“But, you apologized,” you whisper to him, massaging his scalp. Your hips twitch when he adds another finger. You can’t imagine the size of him in you like this. Two of his massive fingers are enough to make you feel close to cumming around them. He’s going to be the death of you.

Pumping in and out of you, Jungkook moves his head to face yours, his nose kissing your own.

“I’m sorry,” he says once again. “I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you, and being an asshole, and making fun of your student’s art, and showing up at your work, and pissing you off, and making you hate me so much you—”

“J-Jungkook,” you stop him. It’s hard to concentrate on a response when his pace quickens with every mention of something he did wrong, as if he was getting angrier the more he realized how much he did to hurt you.

“All I wanted to do was the opposite of what I did,” he kisses your cheek. “B-But it’s hard for me to face negativity without being cocky and stupid about it. I thought that by making it worse, I could make it better.”

“What a strange tactic,” you chuckle against his cheek. Your heart thumps when he flashes you a smile, telling you with his eyes that he’d never do something like that to you ever again. “I’m proud of you.” You smile.

“S-Stop,” Jungkook adds his thumb to your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you slowly. The addition causes you to arch your back into him. Jungkook takes the opportunity to wrap his arm underneath your spine, holding you secure against his body. “You’re going to make me want to claim you if you say that kind of shit to me.”

“What if I want you to claim me?” you challenge.

Jungkook nearly growls into your neck, fighting the urge to just flip you over and ravage you. “Stop doing that to me, y/n,”

He feels your fingers start to tug at the rim of his boxers, and Jungkook can’t be any more excited to feel you around him. He presses one more finger into you before allowing you to shove his boxers halfway down his thighs.

Jungkook moans at the feeling of your soft fingers around his cock, head falling into the crevice of your neck again. His dick is red and angry and begging to fuck you hard and deep. You swirl the precum that leaks from him and circle it around his cockhead, eliciting a strained moan into the skin by your ear from the man above you. His hips jerk at the sudden movement, preparing themselves to fuck you hard and fast.

“I think I’m ready, Kook,” you whisper into his hair.

Jungkook detaches himself from your neck, standing up to quickly knock off his boxers onto the floor. He takes your calves in his hands, spreading you before his fingertips spread your pussy open slowly. Jungkook takes a long look at you. You're basically drooling from your cunt, the slick creating shiny lines off his fingers as he moves them up and off your pussy. Glistening and pulsing for him to fill you up, he knows you’re going to be a tight fit. The fact only excites him further.

He pulls himself onto the bed, pushing your thighs up with his body. Pumping his cock a few times, he lines you up with his dick, pressing his cockhead against your slick.

“You sure you want this?” he leans down to your face. Your thighs are trapped against your torso, Jungkook folding you up for him nice and good. You appreciate that he doesn’t do a thing without your consent, that he doesn’t dare to do anything unless you’re comfortable. A complete 180 from the emotionally constipated Jungkook you’ve been experiencing for the past two weeks.

You nod to him, looking into his eyes. But this doesn’t satisfy him.

“I need a verbal answer, y/n,” he kisses your cheek, dick rubbing up and down your warm entrance.

“Yes, Jungkook. I want you,” you lean into his cheek.

The feeling of his girth stretching you open is enough for you to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stretched this good.

He doesn’t go in all the way, letting you adjust to his girth before slipping his length all the way into you.

You swear his tip kisses your cervix. When he pulls out and slams back into you, you can confirm that he did, in fact, kiss it. Jungkook moans against you, gripping your hands in his own and pinning them above your head. His hips are strong, slamming into you with everything he has left in him. You’re a goddess below him, legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the upper side of his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel all he is giving you.

“F-Faster,” you beg. Jungkook is happy to obey.

He takes your hips and flips you over, his hands pressing against the upper of your back, pushing your chest down into his sheets. Once satisfied, Jungkook firmly grabs your hips and pistons into you faster, just like you wanted. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets, legs twitching in resistance as he fucks into you like a madman. His nose is crunched, lip bleeding between his teeth as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Usually, he never feels ready to release this early. But, you’re the girl he’s always wanted. And now you’re in his bed, begging him to fuck you without prepping you and go faster and claim you, and—god, it's all too perfect. You’re too perfect.

Your moans are like honey in his ears, the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He slaps your ass hard—once, twice, so many times. You scream to it all, each one pushing you over the edge.

“This is mine, you hear?” he growls from behind you, gripping your ass in his hand before slapping it again. “You hear me?” he asks again, gripping your hips tighter and forcibly slapping them against his own hips. The impact makes you gush around him, your high following his forcefulness in squirts of your release. You don’t see it, but Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. No way did you just squirt all over his cock. Can this night get any better?

Maybe it can, because he feels his own release closely following. But he edges himself, pulling out of you to look at the mess you made instead of chasing his high.

You’re so embarrassed, digging your face into your hands as you hear him press his hand into his sopping wet duvet cover.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you whimper. You refuse to meet his eyes, even when he flips you over and sits next to your face.

“C’mere,” he pats his lap.

“Jungkook,” you whine, absolutely mortified. Is he mad? You can’t tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything about your release.

“Baby, come here,” he speaks to you with honey laced in his voice. Your heart thumps at the fact that he called you “baby”. Were your dreams coming true?

You gather yourself and weakly climb onto his lap, immediately digging your face into his shoulder.

“Was that bad? You didn’t cum,” you ask him, voice trembling into his neck. God, this is so mortifying. “I won’t do it again, I pro—”

“Like fucking hell you won’t,” he holds your waist firmly again. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen y/n,” he bites your ear. “It’s taking everything in me not to be gentle with you right now.”

Your eyes meet his hungered ones. You were wrong, and you know it not only from him saying so but also from his pulsating cock below. It is twitching and leaking with so much precum, you almost think that it is his cum itself if it weren’t for the clearness of it. And then you realize that he’s edging himself.

“I-I want this to last longer, but I don’t want to hurt you cause I—” his head falls back in a strained moan when you press a finger to his tip, playing with the precum leaking down himself. “Cause I know I will if you don’t take control of me right now…so, ride me,” he demands.

You kiss his neck, feeling lighter that you made him feel strong enough to nearly lose his control just from your orgasm. With power in your hands, you lift your hips just enough to hover your pussy over his twitching cock, sliding down slowly.

Jungkook’s hands come to your hips again, completely out of breath. “H-Holy shit, y/n,” he gasps when he stares down at his dick disappearing and reappearing as you bounce on his cock. “God, you’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”

You laugh at his comment. Although, he’s far from laughing, focusing all his energy on controlling his orgasm. Face falling into your neck, he’s mumbling things you don’t understand as you massage his sweaty scalp again. He moans at your touch, feeling overly sensitive and extremely, beyond-belief, horny. He wants to cum so bad, but he also wants this to last.

“You can cum, Kook,” you whisper into his scalp. You don’t know if you have it in you to cum again. Squirting is so powerful, and it usually takes everything out of you. But you might, considering you have the strength to ride him to no tomorrow. “It’s okay.”

“N-No,” he breathes against your neck, panting. “Can’t. Want it to last.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh against his cheek. “I don’t plan on making you a one-night, Jungkook.”

“A-Ah,” his hips twitch into you. “I-um, ffuccck, y/n!” he sways your hips back and forth on his cock rapidly. “Y-You sure? It’s going to be a lot.”

“Mhm,” you smile down at him.

“Fuck, o-okay,” he breathes out shakily. Jungkook then bucks his hips fast into yours from underneath you, unrelenting and ruthless. You feel his hot ropes fill you up just seconds later. For what feels like a full minute of him pumping his cum into you, his face resting against your breasts in fucked-out glory.

You two rest there, letting his cum pool at the connection of your bodies while you rest against each other. What finally breaks you out of your own daze is the sound of fireworks just outside Jungkook's bedroom window.

You can see the array of colors lighting up the sky, his digital clock on his nightstand reading 12:00am.

“Hey,” you whisper into his hair, kissing his sweaty scalp. “Happy New Year.”

Jungkook detaches his cheek from your chest, bringing his face up to graze his nose against yours. Smiling into your lips he whispers,

“I’m gonna make it right, y/n. This will be our year.”

---

[Bonus]

[Aecha]: Hope you got home okay.

[Aecha]: Ended up a little stuck between Hoseok’s thighs.

[Y/n]: Funny story.

[Y/n]: I never made it home last night.

[Aecha]: WHAT?!

[Aecha]: Are you okay??

[Y/n]: More than okay.

y/n sent an image

[Aecha]: No

[Aecha]: Fucking

[Aecha]: Way

[Aecha]: I—AKJDAKSJHFJKASFKLDJSAFKLJSFA!!! Y/N!!!!

[Y/n]: So like.

[Y/n]: I’m no longer a single lady?

[Aecha]: AHHHHHHHHH Y/N!!!!!

[Aecha]: JESUS DID HE LEAVE ANY INCH OF YOUR SKIN Y/S/C?!?

[Y/n]: We had a lot of…catching up to do lol.

[Aecha]: I’d say.

[Aecha]: I’m the maid of honor. Understand me?

[Y/n]: Lol. You got it.

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

4K notes · View notes

haesunflower · 1 year

Text

the way he loves | sung hanbin

genre: a little angst, mostly fluff, comfort

pairing: reader (gn) x sung hanbin

about/tags: hanbin has no time for himself and is exhausted. though reader is worried about him, hanbin fears reader will leave him (1.1k words)

hanbin is overworked and spread too thin, yujin matthew and hao are mentioned, sleepy boy hanbin, he's doing his best for everyone 100%, y/n is just worried for him

“You need to stop doing that to yourself, Hanbin”

Hanbin looks up at you, confused. His eyebrows slightly knit together and he tilts his head to the side, as if questioning what exactly you mean.

To be fair, you did bring it up out of the blue. You couldn’t help it though, he just looks so exhausted. Without any makeup, you can clearly see his dark undereyes, and his skin has gotten so much paler. His eyes are slightly red too, you presume from rubbing it to stay awake. Albeit the obviousness of sleep deprivation, he still showed up to your date today.

You can tell he’s trying so hard for you. With that, you let out a deep sigh – hand extending across the table to get ahold of his.

“I’m worried for you Hanbin-ah, I think you’re overworking yourself”

Taking your hand, he softly smiles at you. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it gently before saying “Thank you for worrying about me, love. But I’m okay.”

The vibrancy of his smile, while still plastered on his face, isn’t really there. But Hanbin changed the topic, and you let it go. You listened to him as he told you about the new choreography they’ve been learning and how they’re flying to Japan soon. He tells you that he’s been practicing his Japanese to communicate with fans more.

Hanbin has always been the kind of person to always put other people before himself. It’s the way he loves. He’s never been the type to be burdened to help another person, it just comes so innately with him. Truthfully, it’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. To be loved by the most selfless person on the planet is something you were grateful for everyday.

Little by little, you start to understand how Hanbin got himself to this position. When they moved in at the dorms, he spent his nights helping Yujin with his homework after practice. You learned from Hao that Hanbin has been helping him with his Korean as well. On top of that, Hanbin has still been showing up to school, attending classes left and right. Yesterday, when he visited his mom at the café, he even picked up a few shifts in the kitchen for a part-timer that didn’t show up that day. And right now, he was carving out time for you when he could be resting.

You spend the next few days distancing yourself a little so that he has more time to himself. You don’t communicate this with him, because you know he’ll continue to insist that everything is fine.

When you don’t respond to his texts with your usual energy, or stop making plans with him on the weekends, Hanbin genuinely starts to think he’s losing you. He feels like he’s grasping at straws when he invites you to come over at the dorm to watch a movie with him. He’s scared you’ll say no.

But you agreed mainly because you miss him, and you felt kinda guilty for icing him out like that. You rationalized that you would both just be at arm's length from a bed or a couch anyway. So when you arrive at the dorm for your movie date and find him peacefully asleep on his bed, you let him sleep. You patted his head, and tucked his blanket tighter against his body before turning off the lights in his room.

When Hanbin wakes up, he thinks he messed up.

He looks around the room and wonders how he got there. Checking the time, it’s been 4 hours since he’s invited you over. He frustratingly puts his face in his hands, hating himself for falling asleep.

He hears voices coming from the living room. Slowly following the sound, he finds both you and Matthew laughing at some Hollywood romcom he hasn’t seen before. There’s popcorn and beer laid out on the floor where you're both seated, and an array of pillows and blankets.

It looks like they’ve been at it for hours, Hanbin thinks to himself. It’s Matthew that notices him standing there first.

“Oh hyung, you’re awake!”

Even though he says it excitingly, Hanbin can’t help but take it as a dig. You’re smiling at Hanbin and gesturing to him to sit down next to you, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too in over his head, thinking that he fucked up and thus easily replaceable.

He needs water to clear his head. So he doesn’t respond and just walks to the kitchen. Confused, you get up to follow him.

Hanbin is opening the fridge when you wrap your arms around his waist, head resting in the middle of his back. He stands there and feels your embrace, placing his hands atop of yours as he lets out a deep sigh. Fridge door long forgotten, he says sorry first.

“Sorry I fell asleep love, I didn’t mean to”. He sounds defeated. His head is hanging low, and he doesn’t turn around to face you, fearing your reaction. You simply hug him tighter and press a small kiss on his back, making sure he feels loved.

“I didn’t wanna wake you, don’t beat yourself up over it”

Arms still holding him, you crane your neck to the side to see his face. He’s looking down at the floor and biting his lip, as if punishing himself. You use your left hand to force him to look at you instead.

His eyes are searching yours, as if trying to read you. He looks anxious, as if his next words were crucial.

“Don’t leave me, Y/N”

His voice cracks at the slightest, and your heart breaks. Your eyes soften and you run your hand through the back of his head, gently stroking against his scalp.

“I’m not leaving you silly, I love you too much”

He just gently nods repeatedly, relieved to hear you say that. This time, he engulfs you quickly into his arms, head resting atop yours. You can hear his heartbeat as you rest your ear to his chest. When it slows down, you ask him what he wants to eat for dinner.

You look up at him and he presses a chaste kiss to your nose. It tickles and you can’t help but smile widely at him. His arms are still resting at your waist when he responds.

“Anything you want, love.”

Even in moments like these, he simply yields to what you want. You nod at his response and decide to order his favorite food. You’ll have to have another conversation with him about prioritizing himself for once, but right now, you gladly do it for him.

He cups his hands on either side of your jaw and brings you to a kiss. Only then, he finally smiles.

A/N: This one is more fluffy and longer than I thought it would be. Thank you to the person who requested!

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rubyreduji · 2 years

Text

Office Hours - csc

summary: you show up to professor choi’s office hours looking for help

tags: smut (minors dni!), college!au, professor!seungcheol warnings: explicit unprotected sex, reader calls him sir but in an unsexual way, age gap, cockwarming, praise, daddy kink, choking, fingering, return of seungcheol’s breeding/impregnation kink wc: 2.4k an: some people were asking me to expand on this universe and ngl i kinda love it so i caved haha. also i took one (1) biology class four years ago so i have no fucking clue how college biology works so dont hate me LOL

pt. 1 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

“Professor Choi?” You stick your head into his office after knocking on the door.

The man is sitting at his desk, his eyes closed, muttering to himself. When he hears your voice he opens his eyes and the pinched look on his face relaxes and he smiles tiredly at you.

“Ah baby girl, come in.”

You follow instructions and close the door as you do before going to sit in the faux leather chair across from him. Weariness still shadows Seungcheol’s face and you frown at this. You don’t like when he looks so exhausted, so different from his normal composed persona. “Is everything okay sir?”

“Oh don’t worry about me,” he lets out a small chuckle. “I think I’m just getting old.”

“You can’t be that old sir,” you insist. “You look too good.”

“I’m nearing forty, that is old enough for me. You’re what? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty sir.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up at this. “Aish, I am getting old.”

“Age isn’t everything, professor,” you assure him.

“Maybe not, but enough about my old age. You’ve come into my office hours, what can I help you with?”

“I’m struggling with the out of class work you’ve assigned,” you explain. “Specific yesterday’s worksheet, the one about genetics and heredity.”

“Ah yeah. How about you come over here and we can look at it together.” Seungcheol gestures you over to his side of the desk. Daintily you pick up your worksheet and walk over to him. Once you lay the paper down in front of him you’re about to lean down to look at it but Seungcheol’s rough hands grab at your hips and pull you down onto his lap.

“O-oh!”

“That’s better, isn’t it doll?” Seungcheol says huskily in your ear.

“Y-yes daddy,” you respond.

“Good girl. Now let’s look at this homework.” Seungcheol’s arm wraps loosely around your waist, his hand resting on your thigh, while his other arm rests on his desk. He scans the page and then makes a humming noise like he remembers the assignment. His hand massages at your upper thigh as he looks over your work.

You shift a bit in his lap and you feel his dick rub against your ass. He’s already half hard and you whimper.

It’s been almost a week since you and Seungcheol have had sex, which in theory isn’t that long, but when he fucks you on an every other day basis it feels like a lot. On Monday he had a faculty meeting he had to run off to and then yesterday you promised your friends you would go out with them and they chose the time right after your biology class.

You’ve taken to texting Seungcheol though. Rarely is it ever about school work. It’s mostly pictures, whether it’s a picture of you cuddling with your favorite stuffed animal in bed or the brand new lingerie set you bought with your friends. It always keeps Seungcheol on edge when you text him but he’d never tell you to stop. It only fuels his hunger for you.

“How about this baby girl? If you can listen to me explain this and get five questions right, I’ll fuck you. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes daddy.” You nod at the man enthusiastically.

“That’s my good girl. Now listen while I explain this.”

Seungcheol starts to re-explain the whole lesson about carrying genes and mothers and fathers, but all while he does his fingers flit over your crotch and start to play with you. A singular finger trails across the inseam of your shorts before dipping under the hem and touching you over your panties.

You try to focus on what Seungcheol is telling you and you catch maybe every five words but most of your attention is on the way he’s dampening your panties with just a simple tight circular motion. You’re trying your best not to move around in Seungcheol’s lap so he doesn’t have to punish you. You like being good for him.

By the time your professor is finished talking your panties are drenched and the area between your legs is aching. A small high pitched keening noise comes from your throat when Seungcheol removes his fingers from your clit and runs them along your slit.

“So wet for daddy,” he hums. “I hope you were paying attention though because you have your five questions now.”

“Daddy~” you whine. You’re too needy to focus on the paper.

“I see. Hmm, take your shorts and panties off.” You quickly stand and do that, exposing your bare pussy to the room. As you do that, Seungcheol unzips his trousers and yanks his dick out, fisting it a bit to get it up to full mast. “Now sit on my dick and do your homework.”

“Yes daddy!” You quickly clamber onto his lap and you’re already so wet that you’re able to sink down on him with ease. You both groan at the feeling of his thick cock inside your tight walls and Seungcheol thrusts up into you a couple times before stopping.

“Lee Jimin was in here before you for office hours,” Seungcheol starts, “and just seeing him set me off.” Is that why he was so tense before you came in? “He’s a pervert, staring down your shirt and trying to look up your skirt every day in class. I wish I could just fail him.” His hands knead at your bare hips as he talks, distracting you from the worksheet in front of you.

With shaky hands you pick up your pencil and look down at the first question. You read it at least five times trying to understand. Finally you think you understand.

“B-because only the dad is affected, and i-it’s a, a y-linked inh-heritance, only those assigned m-male at b-birth can be affected,” you can barely stutter your words out, too focused on the way Seungcheol’s dick twitches inside of you.

“Good girl,” Seungcheol purs. “I knew you had it in you. Now do the next one.”

You stare at this one for even longer. After a while you feel like you’re about to cry. You still don’t understand and you just want Seungcheol to fuck you because you’re just so needy.

“I, I don’t understand daddy,” you sob.

“That’s okay baby.” Seungcheol’s large hand rubs over your stomach. “Let’s think about this a different way. I have brown eyes, which is a dominant gene, so when I put my babies inside of you, just from me alone, they will most likely have brown eyes. Would you like that doll? Babies that have my eyes?”

“Yes daddy, would like it so much.”

“So let’s look at this problem again, okay?”

You nod and start to fill out the punnett square and answer the question. Your handwriting is sloppier than normal but you don’t care because you know Seungcheol is going to give you an A anyways.

“Doing so good for me baby girl, you have three more.”

The next three questions are hell. They take far too long to figure out and that’s even with help from Cheol. At one point he just blatantly tells you the answer and has you repeat it to him just so he can claim you figured it out. The whole time he keeps referencing his genes in relation to yours and it floods your mind with thoughts of Seungcheol filling you up with his cum. It doesn’t help your focus, but you think Seungcheol knows this.

It takes you nearly thirty minutes to complete the three questions and by then your pussy is aching for Seungcheol. His hand rubs circles into your skin comfortingly, whispering praise to you everytime you answer a question. When you answer the final question Seungcheol’s hand automatically connects to your clit and he starts to rub at your nub.

“What a good girl. You were so good for me finishing your homework. I’m so proud of you, my pretty girl. I’m going to make you feel good now, okay?”

“Thank you daddy.” Pleasure spreads through your body and you lean back against Seungcheol’s body as he wraps his arm around your waist. He presses a kiss into your neck before shifting his hips under you a bit.

“Daddy is going to fuck you now, okay?” You nod and Seungcheol grips your hips tight and starts to pull you up off of him only to drop you back down. Over the time it took you to do your homework your pussy had molded to the shape of Seungcheol’s cock and he’s able to move freely in you, his tip sliding all the way to your cervix.

“Feels so good daddy~”

“God you fit around me so nice baby girl. Your pussy was made for me and nobody else. All mine.” His hands snake up your shirt and he grabs at your tits through your thin bra. You arch your back into his touch as you continue to bounce on his lap. “Heredity is interesting to think about because it can help you theorize about what your future children might look like. If they’ll have my eyes and your hair color. Or your eyes and my hair? Either way, we’re going to have such pretty children, aren’t we baby?”

“Oh yes daddy,” you whine. “Such cute babies.”

“Just like their mommy,” Seungcheol whispers into your ear, his warm breath fanning over your ear and sending goosebumps down your arm. “You like that as much as I do, don’t you, pretty girl? You wanna carry my babies just as much as I want to put them in you? Am I right?”

“So right daddy,” you tell him as you continue to split yourself onto his cock. “I want you to fill me up with your cum.”

“That’s my good girl. Letting me breed her slutty little pussy. Gonna fill your womb up with babies,” Seungcheol says. “Fuck Y/N.” All of a sudden Seungcheol is pulling you off of him. Your wobbly legs land on the floor and Seungcheol is turning you around and pushing you up onto his desk.

He spreads your thighs with his thick hands and sheaths himself back into you. At the new position he hits into you at a different angle and you have to stop yourself from actually drooling at the feeling.

As Seungcheol’s hips buck into you, you stare up at the man and take in his features. His high cheekbones and full cherry lips and prominent nose. To most people his face would look composed and neutral, but you’ve spent enough time with him to tell he’s concentrating. His eye brows are a bit furrowed and his lips are pressed together more than normal. Your eyes trace against his jawline, looking at the way the muscles are a bit clenched, and then trail up to his eyes. When you finally meet his warm eyes with yours you realize he’s been staring right back at you, his eyes narrowed as they stare down his nose at you. When he realizes that you’ve finally made eye contact with him his face shifts as he smirks.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs.

He reaches his hand out to grip your jaw. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip before he pushes it fully into your mouth. You close your lips around the digit and suck on it as he presses down on your tongue. The feel of the rough pad in your mouth has you clenching down, your hand shooting up to grab Seungcheol’s bicep.

“Shit baby girl, it drives me crazy when you squeeze me like that.” You can tell he’s close by the tenseness in his voice. His thrusts get more pointed as he snaps into you and his grip on you gets tighter. “Fuck. Sometimes I hope that you miss a day of taking your birth control, just so I can get you pregnant. You’d look so sexy with your belly plump and your tits heavy. I’d have no choice but to dote on you and take care of the woman carrying my babies.” Seungcheol pulls his thumb out of your mouth and drags his hand down your chin so he can grab you around the neck.

“‘M so close daddy,” you whimper out. “Please breed me.”

Seungcheol’s cock digs deep into you until he’s painting your insides white with his seed. The feeling of his semen shooting inside of you tips you over the edge and you clench down on Seungcheol, your back arching off his desk and your legs scrambling around to find purchase. Seungcheol’s grip on your throat is the only thing that grounds you as you climax. When you both finally come down from your orgasms you barely get time to catch your breath because Seungcheol is pulling you to sit up so he can press his lips against yours.

Your lips move in sync with his and he holds you tight against his firm body. His hand tangles into your hair while the other presses into the small of your back. Seungcheol tastes like coffee and mints as he licks into your mouth. Your body is still a bit unstable and you tremble as he kisses you lovingly.

When he pulls away you fall into his chest, finally able to catch your breath. “My good good, so beautiful.” As gingerly as he can, Seungcheol pulls out of you. Some of his cum spills out of you as he pulls out and he reaches down to scoop it up and finger it right back into you. You squirm around as his digits breach your entrance but soon he’s pulling them back out again. He presses the tips to your lips and you wrap your mouth around them, cleaning them off.

When he pulls them away you speak. “Thank you daddy. Always makes me feel so good.”

“Of course baby. I love taking care of my pretty girl.” He leans down to kiss your collar bone before he pulls away from you. As always he hands you your clothes back and helps you get dresses before he hands you one of the water bottles he keeps in his office mini fridge just for you.

You’re curled up in Seungcheol’s lap, sipping on the water, when you look up at the time. “Oh! I have to get going daddy. I’ll see you tomorrow!” With that you press a kiss to his cheek and quickly scramble off his lap before you’re out the door.

Your worksheet is forgotten on Seungcheol’s desk but it was ruined from your guys’ escapades anyways, so it didn’t really matter. Seungcheol is just going to give you an A anyways.

As you rush off to go meet your friends you think back to Seungcheol’s words and start to plan what day to stop taking your birth control.

taglist: @pandorashbox @billboard-singer @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash

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tlouxx · 8 months

Text

Electromagnetism - p. 2

~ ellie williams x reader

——————————————————————————

part one | part three <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you're a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college.

content: college!ellie, mean!ellie, modern au, academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, swearing, banter, eventual smut i swear, tensions rising between ellie and reader

——————————————————————————

Day 22

PHYS 302: Quantum Mechanics

It’s only a few weeks into the semester, and this class is already demanding way too much of my time. Ellie and I are still sitting next to one another. I think both of us are too proud to move. Our first exam is coming up in less than a week, and to say I'm nervous is an understatement. I can tell Ellie is stressed out about it too. She’s been studying every free second, biting her nails down to a nub, and she wore that same shirt yesterday. Not that I’m keeping track! We are spending a significant amount of time together between our class schedule and work. I guess you begin to notice little details about someone when you’re with them almost everyday. Even if it isn’t by choice.

…

I can’t think straight. So many variables are swirling around in my thoughts. Ellie. My increasing anxiety. This exam. Being the best at what I do. The professor lecturing is only background noise to the ardent contemplation of the current state of my life. Quite frankly I’m struggling to understand what a quantum state is or why I should care about it. I’m only brought back to reality when I realize that Dr. L is talking to me.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

“Can anyone else tell me what the variables are that define the quantum state of a system?”

Ellie quickly speaks up, “Compatible and Incompatible.”

“Correct, Miss Williams.” Dr. L glares at me as she turns back around to the dusty chalkboard.

…

I want to throw my head down against the desk. I knew that, and now I’ve made myself look like a fool in front of the class. I’m just so distracted by Ellie lately. Ever since she got in my face and said she intended to get the same lab position I’ve been dying to have, I feel frozen in time. I knew she wanted it, but it’s real now that she’s said it out loud. Getting into Dr. Ramsey’s lab could mean I have a fighting chance at grad school or even a future in research. It’s fucking important to me. It occurs to me that maybe Ellie and I could have an alliance. After all the saying goes, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

…

In the corner of my eye, I see Ellie chewing on her pencil. She’s studying again while I’m stuck explaining basic calculus to a freshman. It’s 8:07 p.m. Only 23 minutes till the end of my shift, but I tell her anyway that we’re closed for the night. I needed to escape the monotony of derivatives and integrals.

Ellie’s head lifts up as she hears me escort the girl out the door. It seems I piqued her curiosity, “Why did you tell her we’re closed?”

“She’s going to fail calculus with or without my help." I slump back in my chair knowing I'm barely conscious from my lack of sleep. "I’m just exhausted today. I don’t want to explain integrals again.”

A smile appears on Ellie’s face. She looks down at her hands before looking up at me again. I think I almost made her laugh.

“Trust me. I heard you explain it to her multiple times. I get it.”

Before I know it, a smile is materializing on my face too. I laugh knowing we have a mutual understanding. To be honest, Ellie kinda intimidates me. Maybe that's why when I’m around her it makes my body feel like it’s on fire. I can hear my heart pumping as she starts to move in closer to me ever so slightly. I know she’s waiting for me to say something else. Maybe I should say something else. I hope she doesn't notice how I choke on my words as I try to speak.

…

“Um, while we’re uh talking… I was just wondering how you felt about the exam on Friday.”

Ellie settles into her seat. Confidence seeps out of every pore of her body. I watch as she sets down the pencil she was once chewing on. “It’ll be easy. Maybe not for you, but it will be for me.”

“Sure… Ellie." I mirror her position. Trying to emulate the confidence she exudes. "I was just going to offer you some study tips in case you needed them.” I remark back at her.

She leans forward in her chair. Without warning, the air between us seems to thicken. “You could barely keep up today in class. I certainly don’t need any of your help.”

I lean forward too. “Really? Because I think that you’re studying every second you get because you know I’m better than you."

I stand up, and walk toward Ellie. As I begin to close the space between us, Ellie lifts herself out of her seat. She almost looks like she can't believe I'm saying this "..and you can’t stand the thought of it.”

Ellie looks like she's about to say something. Her mouth opens but closes. She turns around and opens up her bookbag. I watch as she rips a piece of paper out of a notebook. She writes something down.

She turns back around with a paper crumbled in her hand. Ellie inches toward me just like she did on our first night working together. My breath catches in my throat as my mouth goes dry. She pushes the piece of paper into my chest as I stumble backward.

She swivels on her foot and begins to pack up her things. I grab the paper and look at it. She remarks “It's my number for when you realize you’re the one who needs my help.”

…

As I walk out of work, the cold of the night makes goosebumps appear all over my arms. I am still in shock of what just happened. Ellie pushes past me and into the emerging nightfall. Her perfume lingers behind. She smells of mint and eucalyptus. Not wanting to disturb her, I continue walking a few paces behind her.

My head feels clouded. I feel overwhelmed by all of the thoughts spinning around in my head. Did she seriously just do that?

The moon brightens up the night sky as Ellie exits my view. My apartment building is only a few blocks away. I need to tell someone else about what happened tonight. I pull my phone out of my back pocket to text Dina.

8:33 P.M

you will never guess what just happened to me tonight

D: What??! Spill please!

Well... I asked Ellie about the exam in 302 and she basically said it’d be easy for her, but not me. So i said well maybe i could give you tips so you wouldn’t have to study every second of the day. then she gave me her number?!!! and said to text her when i realize that i am the one that needs help??

D: oh my fucking god.

isn’t she crazy?

D: I mean.. I think you both are.

D: but i’m curious if that’s her real number?

D: send it to me and i’ll let you know.

you have her number?

D: we might’ve exchanged numbers at some point..

???

D" well…. we kissed once or twice.

D: but we're not talking anymore

omg. DINA! why didn’t you tell me!!!

D: I thought you'd be mad and it was casual!!

D: send me the number!!!

I threw my phone onto my bed after I sent the number over to Dina. I doubt Ellie would give me her real number. She probably just wanted to fuck with me. Not that it matters if its real or not.. I wouldn’t text her anyway.

I’m disappointed that Dina didn’t feel like she could tell me about her and Ellie. I’m supposed to be there for her like she has been for me. I let this stupid rivalry get in the way of our friendship. Although when I look back on it, I don’t think they tried to hide it either. Maybe I’ve been too caught up in the fact that she was my nemesis to realize that Ellie and Dina were practically sitting on top of each other at parties or both missing at the same time. How could I have been so naïve to miss this?? My phone vibrates on my comforter. I feel my stomach drop. I’m not sure I even want to know. I open my messages with one eye open.

8:47 P.M.

yep. that's ellie’s number.

…

Day 26

PHYS 302 : Quantum Mechanics

The sun is shining in through the cracks of my blinds. My eyes are barely open. I feel the fatigue wash over me. The warmth of my bed is all-encompassing, but I know I have to pull the covers aside. My legs feel like lead as I walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth. The darkness under my eyes looks deeper than usual. I pulled an all-nighter studying for the exam today. I’m debating if I have enough time to run to the coffee shop down the street. I’m in desperate need of caffeine.

I end up walking to get coffee.I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my eyes open without it. The wind is starting to have a chill to it as summer slowly bleeds away. The bell rings as I walk in the door. This is the coffee shop I originally met Dina in. Her hair was shorter then. Our friendship continued to develop the more and more I came here. Then we found out we were working together at the tutoring center, and well the rest is history.

…

Walking into class with my iced latte in hand, I see Ellie. Her hair looks more disheveled than usual and her clothes wrinkled. Maybe I’m not the only one who pulled an all-nighter.

I’m not sure if the caffeine is helping me or just making my anxiety worse. Despite my fear that I may not have studied enough, I feel confident. I tell myself today is going to be the day I’ll be setting the curve. Not Ellie. Staying up all night is going to be goddamn worth it when I see that smirk Ellie wears off her face.

I look over at her as I sit down. She’s still biting her nails, but she doesn’t look at me.

I shift my body to look at her. She finally looks up from her notes. I whisper to her “Goodluck Ellie.”

Ellie looks at me and winks. She is wearing her exhaustion on her face, but her self-assurance is ever-present, “Goodluck to you too, sweetheart.”

I turn back around seething. The heat is rising to my cheeks, but I don’t have time to think further because Dr. L starts handing out our exams. I’m ready for it.

…

I’ve been anxiously pacing my room. Biting my nails even. I think Ellie is rubbing off on me. I dismiss the thought of becoming more like Ellie. The grades are going to be out tonight in 20 minutes. I continue walking back and forth on the hardwood floors of my room. I need to distract myself for just a little while longer. Instead, I keep brooding over my conversations with Ellie and the moment this exam score will come out.

Only a few minutes are left until the email will pop up in my inbox. I spend this time running over the exam in my head again. I’m pretty confident I answered everything correctly. Well maybe except for question 25, but I think I’m overthinking it.

My laptop pings, and I know it’s the results. My hands are damp as I lift open the screen. The subject line reads Exam Results. I click on the link

9:30 P.M.

Subject : Exam Results

Congratulations,

You’ve received the top grade on exam one with a score of 100%. Take pride in this!

Sincerely,

Dr. L

…

I am buzzing with excitement. I shoot up out of my seat and sigh with relief knowing my hard work was worth it. I subconsciously start thinking of Ellie. How she feels in this moment knowing that I did better than her. I take pleasure in thinking that she’s jealous of me. Thinking of me right now too. I catch sight of Ellie’s note crumpled up on my desk. Before I know it, her number is in my phone, and I’m typing out a text to her.

9:32 P.M.

Need my tips now Ellie?

#the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x you #dina tlou #rivals to lovers #slow burn #forced proximity #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #mean!ellie #college!ellie williams #college!au #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou

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luvymelody · 7 months

Text

kageyama

sunny day by wave to earth

“tsukki.. isn’t that kageyama??”

“huh? that king- where?”

tsukishima and yamaguchi were currently walking around the city, a popular place for anyone to hangout for fun. they were going to find a cafe and eat since the hot weather was insufferable. but yamaguchi managed to catch a blue eyed black haired boy.

tsukishima finally spotted kageyama, walking side by side with a girl that was laughing next to him, him smiling and looking at her with a certain expression on his face.

“is that y/n?”

“shit they’re totally dating!”

tsukishima chuckled, pulling out his phone and snapping of photo of the two of them, not even noticing them holding hands until it came into the frame of the phone, it made tsukishima laugh even more.

“she’s doing charity work!”

yamaguchi laughed, tsukishima tucked his phone away, smirking and thinking about what he could do with this.

the next day, everyone was stretching getting ready for the practice match that they were going to play as a team after school, 6v6. but there ended up being a knock on the door of the gym door, everyone looked towards the sound to find a y/n l/n, already waving.

“hi!”

kageyama blushed red, the tomato colour travelling all over his body.

“oh hi y/n!”

tanaka yelled out, waving and running at her with open arms. y/n dodged him as he fell outside, falling on the dirt outside the gym door steps.

“where’s hitoka and kiyoko??”

“they couldn’t stay back, said they were busy with something.”

“ohh, alright.”

kageyama kept looking at the girl, admiring her with his eyes until she also looked at him, winking at him which made him turn an even darker shade of red. of course, tsukishima noticed, holding his hand above his mouth to contain a laugh that was about to erupt.

“alright! let’s start this match!”

“break!”

the 2nd set had just finished, everyone was exhausted and walking up to y/n for bottles of water, she was handing them out on a tray for everyone to enjoy.

“y/n! do i do good!?”

“so good!”

nishinoya called out to y/n, jumping up and down at her reply, and yelling something out like ‘you suck tanaka!’. y/n was walking up to kageyama, who sat on the bench, tired and holding his ankle with one hand and bending his body over, his other hand on the bench to hold him steady.

during the match he had landed funny when setting tanaka, but it was only a few points from the set ended so he kept playing. she looked at him with pity, placing a bottle next to him and patting his cheek with her hand, it made him look up at her, but she just walked away towards coach ukai. he watched as she walked, memorised with her every step.

tsukishima witnessed the action again, finding it absolutely boring now, just a couple doting on each other, gross. y/n ended up talking to ukai about letting kageyama take a break, explaining his ankle and whatnot.

as the 3rd set played on, kageyama and y/n walked sitting next to each other, tape now being rolled around his ankle and silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable it was, peaceful.

“are you okay? i saw how you fell.”

“you ask me that now?”

“what! it was awkward but like not that awkward but like still..”

“you know tsukishima knows.”

“about what?”

“us, you dummy.”

“oh, really? how’d you know.”

“he was looking at you, then he looked at me, and then remember the city yesterday? he probably connected the dots.”

“i didn’t know you were that smart tobio.”

“hey! i’m very smart!”

“sURE YOU ARE WHAT WAS YESTERDAY AGAIN, ME HELPING YOU FOR YOUR HISTORY EXAM.”

“SHUT UP IT’S ONLY THAT.”

kageyama was silenced, aswell as y/n as she traced her finger tips along his hand, he looked down at her hand, grabbing ahold her hand and intertwining their hands together.

“y’know, i’ve been setting alot they hurt so bad, could you hold it for awhile?”

“since when have you been so bold around everyone?”

everyone was focused on the match, not experiencing the couple that was literally in their vicinity. suddenly y/n stood up, still holding onto y/n’s hand,

“wanna help me fill up the bottles?”

the two of them went outside, walking close together due to the cold weather and wanting to stay warm. they were suppose to get the bottles and fill them up but most of the time they ended up just kissing and talking, sitting on the bench and sitting so close together.

“tobio! we have to fill them up they gonna be finished soon!”

“hmmm, i don’t care-”

kageyama kissed y/n all over her face, aiming for her lips but she kept trying to dodge.

“tobio!”

“WHAT THE FUCK”

kageyama and y/n froze like deer in headlights, their heads turning at the sight of the entire team standing at the gym doors, watching the two of them be all lovey dovey. tsukishima smirked, as usual, tanaka and nishinoya were about to rage.

“WHAT THE FUCK KAGEYAMA YOU ABSOLUTE THIEF”

“I HAD HER FIRST”

“MY ASS COME HERE”

kageyama jumped up and ran over, running around the gym to avoid tanaka and noya running at him full speed. y/n sat in the same place, frozen like an ice cube but literally burning like fire, she covered her face with her hands as hinata, sugawara and some others ran up to her.

“why are you dating kageyama?! he’s so moody all the time and no one likes him!”

“i like him! he’s cute..”

“you guys are so gross, you’re not secretive about it either.”

Tsukishima commented, pulling out his phone and showing his photo that he took

“y/n-san you’re too pretty to be dating kageyama!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY HINATA YOU DICKHEAD.”

hinata ran away laughing, as kageyama ran after hinata with tanaka and noya still running behind him, yelling ‘you’ll pay for this!’.

wc : 1013 words

#kageyama tobio #kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama is lowkey ooc dont judge ok #kageyama x female reader #tobio kageyama

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collectivecloseness · 11 months

Note

I know you said you weren’t rly up for smut yesterday, but I’m going to be honest, I’m a sinner, and could only think of smut for Joyce. Would you want to do any of that? <3

You’re lucky because I was actually coming up with smth that included smutty Joyce myself LMFAO 🤭 guess we’re all sinners. Domestic fluff with some smut included

Joyce Byers x reader

Joyce invited you over all the time now, and well, you invited yourself over too. Joyce told you she was always happy for you to drop by! And that had been even before you two had been secretly hooking up.

You and Joyce both agreed not to tell anyone. Even you two had skirted around what you actually were. But you were both happy, so that’s all that mattered to you.

It was harder to sneak around with Joyce’s kids in the house, but she also didn’t want to be out constantly, lest they get suspicious, and you kept struggling to find places outside of her home to secretly hook up. Although you both knew of a good few, from experience.

People would probably assume you were Johnathan’s friend if they saw you around the house, or even out with the family, and while recently, you two had started becoming friendly, everyone who knew you and Joyce knew you two were friends! You just seemed to connect very well from the start, and nothing seemed to get in the way of your blooming friendship.

Even your friends didn’t know that it was a much deeper relationship than that. You’d dropped hints about the person you were ‘seeing’ to your friends, because it was obvious to them you were with someone, although at one point Robin and Steve had convinced themselves it was Steve’s mother you were seeing, and that fire had had to be put out quickly.

But Joyce made you happy. And you really made her feel the same way too.

But with Joyce always letting you over to her place, and knowing how hard she works, you constantly wanted to be a helping hand, right by her side. So today, you’d come to visit Joyce, hoping you two would have a few more minutes until Will and Johnathan were home. No such luck, but Will had already thrown his bag on the ground and gone to his room, and Johnathan looked like he was about to do the same, just in Joyce’s pantry by the time you walked through the door.

She didn’t notice you, too busy trying to find something in the cupboard under the sink. You gave a quick nod to Johnathan, at the other end of the kitchen, who gave one back, headphones in. So when you walked up to Joyce, you ran your hands down her shoulders and past her arms.

“Ooh!” Joyce jumped, looking up with the biggest brown eyes you swear you’ve ever seen in your life, and she smiles so happily at you. “Oh! It’s you. Hi honey!” She already has her arms open before she’s even stood up, coming to give you her world famous hugs, and you wrap your arms around her waist back. Her hair’s loose, so you let yourself bury your face into her shoulder, drinking in her smell. It’s weird, her scent is the one thing that always seems to stay with you.

Joyce pulls back warmly, her hands still on your shoulders. “I didn’t know you were coming! Are you staying for dinner?”

You can see the excitement in her eyes. How happy she is to see you here. Joyce says you make her feel giddy like a school girl, but she always has your heart fluttering too. “Mhm! If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you.” Joyce smiles, before you chuckle through your nose, and the both of you dip your heads with quiet laughs at the shared joke.

You realise you haven’t let go of Joyce’s waist yet, but a quick eye flicker in your peripheral lets you know Johnathan’s lost in his magazine and music. So you manage to give her hip a quick rub, before turning your hand to do the same to her bicep. “And what’re you doing? I thought the store already worked you to death.”

Joyce rolls her eyes upwards at the mention of her work, her smile still on her face, letting you know her exhaustion. At least it was something you could ease out of her later. Maybe even including a nice massage.

“I know, but I didn’t have time to I do the dishes this morning.” Joyce blows her lips.

But you brush her hands to the side, stepping forward. “Well here, let me do that then.”

“No, no no.” Joyce gently holds your hands back, pushing them away before you can start. “I’ve got it, there’s only a couple. Besides, I need to have enough dishes for you tonight. And I know what you’re gonna say now, so don’t.” Joyce screws her face up cutely, quickly brushing your pouted lips with her finger, as you both try to get each other to take yourselves seriously.

“You work yourself too hard.” You tell her again, for one of the few times, letting your voice be clear enough, just in case one of her sons hears and decides to help their dear mom out.

But Joyce steps forward, her eyes flicking behind you, at Jonathan, before she speaks lowly, close to your face “Well it’s nice I have you to help me afterwards then.”

When Joyce moves back, you allow her to see the look of pleasant surprise on your face. Joyce was rarely flirty in public, well she was a little, but mostly in ways where they could be taken as innocent instead. You loved seeing the more ‘Joyce’ sides of her being freed around you.

But, with a quick look around her home behind you, you had your sights set on a new task. And shoving back the want to lean forward and peck her, you squeeze Joyce’s hands instead, innocent enough. “Okay, I’ll be back in a second.”

You heard the chair behind you squeak, and watched Johnathan bin his cookie packet, giving him a quick salute with your now very free hands, and Johnathan attempts a small smile at you before leaving to his own room, headphones still in. Could he not have done that sooner?

“Okay.” Joyce gently touches your side, and you turn back to her with a smile. Joyce let you have free reign in her house, and you felt comfortable enough to do so. So while Joyce turned back to her kitchen, both of you keeping your smiling faces on each other until Joyce had to turn away with a flustered hand to her face, so cute, you made sure her back was turned, as you grabbed the overflowing laundry basket just outside her bathroom that you’d caught sight of, and started walking it down to her basement washer.

You stuff all of the clothes and towels in the washing machine, spotting a few of your own clothes you’ve worn recently, than Joyce had shoved to the bottom of the laundry basket. You laugh through your nose, shaking your head at how good Joyce is. Also, probably a good thing you didn’t inspire Johnathan to help his mom out. You fling a pair of your black underwear into the washing machine, along with Joyce’s similarly coloured bra. That one was your fault for getting dirty.

You add in the washing powder with the scooper in a box on her shelf, before shutting the lid, and making sure you were going to press the right buttons. Focusing so hard, you barely heard the creak of the stairs.

“You didn’t have to help with that!”

Joyce is smiling as she rides down the steps. You can assume she shut the door behind her, and you wave her off with a smirk.

“You’re a guest!” Joyce repeats, meeting you below with a pleased grin, but you chortle. “I’ve crashed here more nights than I can count, including the last two, and probably tonight. And well, I saw some of that in there was mine as well.” You blink sweetly at her, hoisting yourself on top of the washing machine, reaching your hands out for your lover with a smile. At least the eventual noise and floor distance might finally give you two some privacy. You can never keep your hands off each other for long.

Joyce takes your hands happily in her smooth ones, giving a big smile with her shoulders hiking and chin jutting out at you, before coming in, being helped by your pull, and leaning in for a kiss.

You move your arms to hold onto her waist, humming happily into your kiss as you finally get to hold her again. Joyce’s lipstick you’ve noticed her wearing more since seeing you, brushing faintly against your lips, as she rests her hands on your thighs. Both of you kissing sweetly.

“Wait.” You whisper against Joyce’s lips, her pulling back dotingly with a curious look. One of your hands stretches teasingly over her waist and lower back, holding her close as you tilt your head to her. “So they don’t hear.” You move down between your legs, letting Joyce follow your hand, before you turn on her washing machine. The hum and rattle quickly filling the air.

You two keep kissing for a while. Giggling, and playing with each other’s hair, hands only holding each other as you both make out. Joyce has a few strands of your hair in her hands, lips moulding perfectly, effortlessly, into your own, moaning pleased into your mouth as her fingers play. Meanwhile yours are fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she knows you want it off, like you always do. But as Joyce pulls back from one kiss for air, she notices your thighs pressed together. And then when she really looks, you thinking she’s just watching your body, as your face buries needily into her neck, Joyce realises you’ve been wiggling on her washing machine.

She slips her hand to the inside of your thigh, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at your wet mewl right into her neck, stretching her fingertips so they can spread onto the vibrating machine. Now you look up.

“Naughty girl. Did you just wanna use my machine?” Joyce smiles, her brown eyes teasing and playful, as she rubs the inside of your thigh. She knows you love being called her good, and naughty girl. Being her girl.

You shake your head though. And Joyce’s expression widens teasingly, like she’s putting herself in charge of your game. “Oh no?” She asks you quietly, but still laughing, entwining your fingers with hers and pressing her soft lips against your hand as she does so.

You shake your head again. “Why would I need to use that, when I have you?” You ask at her teasing volume, innocently.

You watch Joyce blush, and you nudge her chin with your joined hands, beckoning her closer to share another deep kiss.

You feel Joyce sliding her tongue over yours, and you moan appreciatively as you kiss against it, allowing her into your mouth, taking it yourself, brushing your tongue softly over hers, rubbing up and down Joyce’s waist and slinking your hands under her shirt there. You love the times Joyce gets more confident. It hasn’t been too long with her, so it still takes a little while before she starts to be more forthcoming during your little sessions. Although with the way you’re going, you’re going to be completely dommed by her in almost every meeting. She’s had a few times of her own where she’s surprised you with that already. You were definitely not complaining though.

Joyce hooks her hands under your bare knees, in your shorts, pulling you closer, as her own legs stand firm against the rattling machine. You wrap your legs around Joyce, both of you pressing your chests together, wanting to be closer. Although you do notice with Joyce’s grip on your thighs, she’s still pushing your lower half into her machine.

You giggle into her kiss, relishing in the feeling of the bumps, and thuds, and swirls, and shakes, and buzzes of the machine you’re sitting on top of. Letting yourself feel all of it as you grab onto Joyce’s waist, pulling her lips into your own and letting her taste you, while you eat up her own moans. Hoping you’ll let her have a treat and discover how wet you are when her hand finally ventures there.

But pushing those needy thoughts aside for a moment, you know there’s something you want more.

You pull Joyce in even closer, running your hands up her bare back, so your fingers can play with her bra buckle, kissing her collar. “I want you to sit on here.” Your eyes go big.

“Noo honey, I-“ Joyce looks up at the ceiling, and you know there are other people in the house. But you’re very good at helping her keep quiet.

You remove your hands, stroking her face quickly. “I wanna treat you first, if we don’t have a lot of time.”

Slipping off the machine and landing on the floor, you sigh. Your legs jelly, and really feeling the loss of the vibrations. Feeling something wet and warm pooling immediately into your underwear now you’re stood.

At your sigh, a shiver runs up Joyce’s spine. Making her shudder, a quick breath coming out, as she looks to you in anticipation, and trust. Hooked, like always.

Holding her hand, you get Joyce sat on top of the machine. And as soon as she is, your hands are greedily at her waist again, and your tongue is lavishing on her neck before your lips can follow.

Joyce’s head rolls back, holding your lower half, and you lap your tongue over her neck, making your bottom lip drag up her skin as it follows.

Joyce moans breathily, deeply, and you can feel her chest brushing against your chin when you lean down to nibble your lips over her collarbone. Then, as your tongue flattens and your teeth nibble, as you suck a mark into the sensitive spot of Joyce’s neck, just below most of her shirt lines as agreed, although stretching this shirt with your greedy hands right now, a higher moan leaves Joyce. And you quickly place your hand over her mouth. Soothing the hickey with lots of small kisses, meeting her eyes and seeing how gushy her big brown orbs are.

You both look upwards, but no movement, no sound, you’re sure their music and the washing machine would cover you two anyway. Joyce gives your hand a kiss, and you smile down at her, humming happily as her lips detach from it, while you pull your hand away.

Hungrily, your tongue pokes through your lips as you quickly takes Joyce’s top off, her lifting her arms up to help you. You grasp her cheek as you kiss her again, letting her hair fall back into place, as she noisily lets her lips move in tandem with yours. Now starting to rock on the machine.

You move your head back, admiring the top half of her body in just her dark bra, running your hands up and down her waist. “You’re so pretty. Fuck. You’re so beautiful Joyce.” You lean your head into her cheek for a moment, pulling back, still holding her, admiring her, for how gorgeous she is. You still can’t believe she likes you enough too. She’s amazing.

“Thank you baby.” Joyce rasps out, her hands falling to your neck, and your face, and her eyes serious on yours. Lips sucked in, but still with a hint of a smile. You hold her face in both your hands, letting her know you’re really looking, right at her. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty. Seriously. Those eyes too God... I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.” You breathe out amazed. Smiling.

Joyce blushes, and you can see the emotion in her face. But a smile breaks out before anything else can, and you easily allow yourself to be pulled in for another kiss again. Eating her up, just as Joyce does you, both of you laughing smally into each other’s mouths. In fact, Joyce doesn’t seem like she wants to let go, still just kissing your lower lip and your chin messily, when you pull away. “You are too y/n. You’re fucking beautiful.” Joyce squeezes your face in her hands, like she’s having cuteness overload, and you just have to kiss her again. This time, through her smiling lips, some heavier breaths come through, and when you sink your hand in between her very closed off thighs, and she whines into your lips, and even then you can feel the vibrations through her, you know part of the reason why.

Moaning, nosing at her neck, you kiss down it again. This time slightly quicker, holding her small bare waist in your hands, your lips and your tongue spreading wet and meaningful kisses all the way down Joyce’s neck, and down her chest. Making sure to press them over the tops of both of her breasts.

Joyce’s hand goes to your head, watching you in awe, as she always does at seeing you worship her body. Her hand smooth over the back of your hair, and red lips stretched in a pleasured ‘o’ shape, her other hand bracing on your shoulder, body rolling into your mouth with each kiss you give her, eyebrows softly knitted, watching you entirely.

You kiss down her cleavage, and finish off at the point just before the centre of her bra starts, just barely pressing your face in, feeling your nose and lips slip by, as your hands continue caressing her warm waist. You kiss the small part of her bra holding her chest together - trapping her poor girls - before your kisses move down to praise all over her perfect stomach.

You move to crouch down, but your hands still hold Joyce there, massaging her waist as you kiss over her stomach, stopping just blow her belly button, and above the hem of her pants. And as you press your chin to Joyce’s tummy, you peer right up at her. Your big eyes on her lustfilled, loving brown ones, looking straight up at her, before quietly, under the hum of the machine, popping the button of her jeans.

#Joyce Byers/reader #citrussy #Joyce Byers fluff #also my first lone Joyce fic/drabble so another woohoo! I love her sm it’s insane 🎉🥰💕😭#Joyce Byers #Joyce Byers x reader #Joyce Byers drabble #stranger things #ask #anon #3k

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ros3ybabe · 7 months

Text

Update Check In - October 7th thru October 10th, 2023 🎀

I am officially back home from seeing my boyfriend and now I am big sad because I already miss him again. I was not as productive as I thought I would’ve been while with him these last three days but I’m also not mad about my lack of stuff done. I got some quality time with him and I am so happy with that. I did do some things that would count s productivity, such as some Japanese studying and a short amount of homework. I think I’ll use this post as a motivator for some stuff I need to do with a little bit of what I did this weekend.

🩷 What I Accomplished -

Kept up Duolingo daily streak

Kept up Busuu daily streak

Began working in Lesson One in Genki I

Submitted and passed Psyc Quiz for Chapter 7

Began using LingQ for Japanese

Looked into Kanji learning books

so yes, I didn’t accomplish much but again, not mad. I am still happy with what I did accomplish. I also really enjoy the Genki I textbook so far, I’m still trying to figure out a good note taking technique for myself with this textbook but I really like writing down the end of lesson practice exercises. I think I want to get better at reading and writing, and listening, and my goal is to start italki lessons by December/Jaunary. If I don’t start my italki lessons until a bit later tho, I won’t be upset because I know learning Japanese is a long process and something I’ll be working on for a good chunk of my life.

🩷 ToDo Personal Today, Oct 11 -

Wash bed sheets + pillowcases

Wash + put away all laundry (clothes)

Do dishes

Continue to work on Genki I lesson one

Maintain Duolingo streak

Maintain Busuu streak

Use Renshuu

Look for some more affordable Japanese language resources for my IPad

Talk to my boyfriend in video call

Make a shopping list for language tracker/bullet journal (I get paid tomorrow)

Make a schedule/routine for working out (I’m going back to the gym next week!)

🩷 ToDo Academic for Today, October 11 -

Lifecycle nutrition chart for NUTR

Lab 7 Pre Lab for my Anatomy Lab

Discussion 3 for NUTR

Culinary chapter 10 quiz

not much academic stuff on the list for the day but I’m trying to take it a little easier with my school things as I am exhausted from a long day of flying and airports yesterday. However, I am using today as like, a set up day for my upcoming days/week. Productive planning is basically my goal for today with a little bit of actively doing some work. I am excited to start my language tracking bullet journal and plan some stuff for working out as I am planning on going back to the gym next week. I want to start with light cardio for the first week just to get me in the habit of going and then after I’m going to step back into the weight room and start lifting light. My boyfriend got me motivated to work on my mental and physical health a bit better, so I’m definitely excited!

I feel with the exercising, it will help me manage my stress better, which I feel will lead to better mood and better food choices. Exercising alone is enough of a motivator to take my nutrition more seriously. I’m more focused on the mental and emotional health aspect of working out than I am the physical stuff, but I’m excited for all the benefits regardless. I just want to take better care of my health in every aspect, in a way that aligns with my values. Hopefully I will have better posts full of more information and stuff I’ve done during the day once I get all areas in my life back in balance with each other.

that’s all for now! I appreciate all of you who read and comment and send me the most encouraging and supportive messages, you all keep me motivated and inspired to continue being my most authentic self and help me feel comfortable with expressing myself in this community. I am so grateful for everything that goes into this blog and everything it’s done for me and the direction it’s helped me guide my life in! Much love to all of you <3

til next time lovelies 🩷🤍

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agaypanic · 7 months

Note

I loved your Malcom x male reader story! Would it be possible for another? Maybe he’s a new neighbour or an exchange student from England or something? Go wild!

The New Neighbor (Malcolm Wilkerson X Male!Reader)

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Summary: When Malcolm sees a new family moving in next door, he’s ecstatic for a clean slate. But a clean slate isn’t the only thing Malcolm’s getting from you.

A/N: im sorry but i did in fact not go wild, this feels pretty bland tbh lmk if yall would want a second part, i just cant think of a way to continue this rn :/

***

It wasn’t every day you got a new neighbor. Most people wouldn’t think much of it; maybe send over some kind of baked goods if they were feeling nice.

But for the Wilkerson family, new neighbors meant new chances. They didn’t exactly have the best reputation in the neighborhood, mainly because of all the boys’ crazed antics. The family just had to make sure they got to the newcomers before anyone else in the neighborhood.

“Hi, can I help you?” You sounded exhausted, probably because you kept walking back and forth, unloading heavy ass boxes. Your parents were starting their new jobs today, but you didn’t start school until next Monday. So you decided to do a bit of unpacking when a boy about your age popped up on your lawn.

“I, uh, I was just coming back from school, and I noticed you weren’t there.” He scratched the back of his head, and you set down the box you were ready to carry inside. Realizing that what he said sounded a bit stalker-like, the boy adjusted his backpack straps and stood up slightly straighter. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in a weird way. I’m Malcolm, by the way. I’m your neighbor.” He pointed to your right, to a house and lawn that definitely stood out from the rest of the block.

“Oh! Yeah, I think I saw you and your brothers yesterday.” You walked down the lawn to get close enough to hold your hand out to Malcolm. “I’m Y/n. I’m starting school on Monday.”

He shook your hand, giving you a polite but somewhat nervous smile. Why he seemed nervous, you had no clue.

“Do you need, like, any help with this?” The two of you looked around your lawn. The movers your parents hired didn’t really care about putting the boxes in the rooms they were labeled for, or the house itself, for that matter. You were lucky it didn’t rain.

“If you don’t mind.”

Having Malcolm around turned out to be a lifesaver. He may have looked like a string bean, but you got the rest of the boxes in the house and in their respective rooms faster with him than you could have by yourself. Plus, he was able to unpack some of the stuff with you, which led to multiple conversations about different things that you apparently had in common.

“So why did you have to move?” Malcolm asked, flipping through one of your comic books.

“Parents got new jobs. Better pay, better school district, hopefully better people.”

“Did everyone at your old school suck?” You laughed lightly, sitting on your bed next to him. He closed the book, thumb between the pages to save his place, and looked at you.

“You could say that. Heard California’s more liberal than where we’re from, so there’s that, I guess.” You leaned back until your back hit the mattress, and Malcolm did the same. You both looked up at the ceiling.

“Why would that matter?” He asked. You took a deep inhale, and Malcolm panicked. “You don’t have to tell me. You know, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” You said before he could go into a fast-paced tangent. “It’s cool. Um, where I’m from, people aren’t really too fond of… They don’t like gay people that much.” There were a few beats of silence, and you panicked. What was wrong with you? You just met this guy, and here you were, telling him everything about your life.

“So… you’re gay?” Malcolm asked, fiddling with his flannel.

“Enough to not like me.”

“Well, a lot of people don’t like me or my family. They think we’re kinda crazy or something.” You laughed. From your interactions so far, Malcolm seemed pretty normal.

“I guess that if I get outcasted again, I have at least one person to hang out with.” You turned your head to see Malcolm already looking at you. You both smiled lightly at each other, as if in agreeance.

After a bit more chatting, you realized how late it was getting. You walked Malcolm out the front door and to the sidewalk. Before you could wave each other goodbye, you decided to bite the bullet.

“Hey, Malcolm?” He raised his brows, waiting for you to continue. You kicked invisible rocks, calming your growing nerves. Why you were nervous, you had no idea. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? You’re the only person I know right now, and you seem pretty cool.” Malcolm nodded almost immediately.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome! How does tomorrow sound? I can show you around town and stuff.”

You grinned, nervousness washed away by Malcolm’s excitement.

“Sounds good to me. I can give you my number if you want; we can work out a time or something.” He nodded, so you held up a finger, signaling for him to stay and wait, and ran back into the house. You came out a few seconds later with a sharpie. “Roll up your sleeve.” Malcolm tilted his head questioningly but did it anyway. “Couldn’t find any paper.” You elaborated as you scribbled your number on his arm. You capped the marker and started to back away towards your house. “Text me.”

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

#agaypanic #malcolm wilkerson x male reader #malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 7 months

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Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M

The clock struck five in the morning. Contaminated test tubes and beakers were wet in the sink. A bright green bar nearing 65% completion was loading on a large computer screen surrounded by monitors. Shoko was busy in her lab, observing a single drop of blood, splotched between two thin slides under a beaming microscope. She hadn't left work since yesterday. You’d think after all these years hunkered down in the school’s basement like an obsessive recluse, she’d be used to the loneliness. She could already hear poor Ghost yowling for his breakfast, but there was no room for pause. The blood sample results from the New National Theater had finally come back, but Shoko was only interested in one.

The jujutsu doctor’s lips drew together in concentration, suspending the tail end of a depleted cigarette. Screw resolutions. This was far more important than her respiratory health. Her findings so far were not as she’d hoped. The red blood cell count was starkly lesser than last week. She reckoned about a third of them had vitiated in that timeframe, even with the aid of reverse curse technique, but how? How? The discovery troubled her. She would start from scratch again if need be. After all, there was still more testing to be done.

Exhausted, Shoko wiped the beads of sweat off her brow and smothered her depleted cigarette in the ashtray. The computer monitors increased to 66%. She just prayed her hypothesis did not hold the truth.

Nanami Kento removed the strainer of brewed oolong leaves from the Royal Copenhagen he had sitting on a tray; a teapot and two cups with matching saucers, Blue Fluted Full Lace. They were heirlooms once owned by his late great uncle, who subsequently died of a stroke three years ago; another Henriksen lost. He had no wife or children and his mother didn’t want them, despite their value, so she bequeathed the china over to him. Not that he ever had a reason to use it. The full set of plates and fine tableware cost more than his apartment lease. He mostly kept the novelties for decoration. And perhaps nostalgia.

But not today.

Today he had a guest.

Nanami closed the lid on his uncle’s Copenhagen teapot and lifted the tray to walk back inside the living room of his small, one-bedroom sized apartment. It wasn’t the grandest place in the world, nor the cheapest. He could afford a much bigger unit if he wished, yet the space was well accommodated. It was furnished with all the essentials befitting of a bachelor; functional kitchen appliances, a washing machine and dryer, a brand new air conditioning system, and modern furniture. He had picked the farthest unit down the hall, so he wouldn’t be subjected to the loud elevator cranking up and down the many floors. It allowed him some peace and quiet in this bustling, wayward city known as Tokyo, granted, if you ignored the endless stream of ambulance sirens, blaring jumbotrons, and cries for help.

The part-time Jujutsu sorcerer entered his living room and acknowledged his guest sitting on the sofa.

“I apologize for bringing you out here like I did. I’m usually not this spontaneous.”

Nanami set the tray down along the coffee table and handed his guest a teacup. Hannah smiled at her host warmly and took the blue and white china from his hand. The porcelain clashed with the pink roses on her dress.

“Not at all, it’s perfectly alright,” she assured him. “I hear you’ve been busy with work, so this is me intruding on your time.” She looked down at the coffee table. “Anyway, I hope you like the rødgrød. Satoru mentioned you were Danish, so...”

Nanami sat down on the leather armchair, opposite her, and glanced at the small portable crockpot she had brought atop the table. Rødgrød med fløde was as much part of the Danish diet as cheeseburgers and fries were to the American. People preferred eating the berry porridge with custard or poured over freshly baked bread. Everyone loved it. Nanami hadn’t tasted the dessert since he was a young boy visiting his grandparents on holiday. Hannah had used raspberries and cherries for hers; exactly how his mormor used to make it. The tarter, the better.

Well, there were those waves of nostalgia hitting him again. He’d sample a bite later.

Satoru had dropped his wife off at his place that afternoon and hurried to go “run some errands.” Whatever that meant. Nanami had no choice but to leave the office. As ever, the Six Eyed moron liked to make things difficult and keep his whereabouts elusive, in addition to getting his lineage wrong.

“A quarter Danish,” Nanami clarified, loosening the lavender silk tie around his neck. He hadn’t been allotted time to change out of his business attire. “My grandfather was born and raised in Denmark, however my grandmother is Swedish.”

Hannah looked positively delighted.

“Ah, a Swede and a Dane,” she exclaimed. It would explain his blond hair. “That’s quite a match. The closest I got to living in Denmark was Germany. Did your grandparents ever alternate between countries?”

“For a time,” the quarter Dane replied. “But my grandmother has lived alone in Aarhus since my grandfather’s passing. I still get Christmas cards from her every year. She’ll be ninety-one this October.”

Unable to stop herself, Hannah heard the word “Christmas” and blurted the next question out loud without thinking.

“Oh. So you’re Christian?”

She could see the tug pull on the corner of his lips, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, and instantly regretted it. He was so cool, you’d think he hadn’t reacted at all. The quarter Dane shook his head. “Mom had me baptized in the Lutheran church as a baby to appease my grandfather, but the buck stopped there. She wasn’t very religious and I myself hold no beliefs.”

Hannah felt her cheeks burn hotter than the tea she was sipping, flushed with embarrassment. Her shoulders sagged. Of course he wasn’t Christian. What a foolish thing to expect? She felt awkward.

“I see,” she said rather sheepishly. “Please, forgive me. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Nanami nodded understandingly. He thought it wasn’t dumb of her to ask, but with introductions out of the way, they had official matters to attend to.

“Satoru said you had some information about a possible Sukuna finger.”

Hannah nervously tucked a strand of long auburn hair behind her ear, lowering the expensive Copenhagen in her lap.

“Yes,” she said, swallowing her tea and straightening her bad posture. “I think I know where one is.”

Nanami leaned back against the armchair and crossed his legs, hands folded patiently in his lap. His eyes never wavered.

“I’m listening.”

Hannah coughed. “Well, you see,” she began, trying to decide where to start. “I think nothing of them at first. My dreams - er visions - are often quite,” she searched for the adjective, “sporadic, if you know what I mean. But lately I’ve been having a recurring dream.”

“A recurring dream.” Nanami quirked a pencil thin, blond eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s a dead giveaway?”

Hannah let slip a dry laugh. “You’d be correct. In my experience, whenever a dream is recurring, it’s usually indicative of a vision.”

“What has the vision shown you?”

“It’s hard to describe,” she continued, squinting her eyes as though aiming for a moving target that refused to stay still. “I don’t know why, but it always begins with me…drowning. I’m ever so slowly sinking towards the bottom.” She closed her eyes for a second, trying to imagine the nightmare in her mind. “It’s very dark and murky, so I can’t see anything. I’m terrified out of my wits. I try to kick and swim my way back up to the surface, except someone, or rather something, has me by the ankles and won’t let go. I fight and struggle to free myself, but I can’t. It isn’t until my lungs give out that I finally look down and…” she stopped for a second.

“Go on,” Nanami coaxed gently, waiting in silence. He wasn’t going to force her to talk, if she didn’t want to.

“Eyes,” the seer said, own eyes flitting open. She took a much needed breath from the horrid memory. “Four glowing, scarlet eyes staring at me from the black. That’s it. That’s all I see. Then the vision pivots.”

“Pivots?”

Hannah took a sip of oolong before humming in agreement. “I’m shown a film reel of things. Places, I think. I can’t remember what they are, but there is one feature that stands out from all the rest.”

Nanami also took a sip of tea. “Like what?”

Hannah placed her teacup on the coffee table and used her fingers to “draw” an invisible picture for him. “A massive red o-torii, floating above a large body of water.”

The quarter Dane’s brow narrowed ever so slightly. He knew what place she was referring to.

“Itsukushima Shrine,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Hannah sighed. “Satoru showed me a picture of it when I told him. It’s the exact same gate. He then mentioned you were working on a secret case and that I should speak to you immediately.”

Well, it’s not so secret anymore, Nanami thought, holding his tongue. Now he understood why Satoru had been so adamant the two of them talk, but hell, what a pain in the ass. The white haired dolt could’ve explained all this on the phone, or typed a quick text, instead of wasting he and his wife’s time. Even though she was a lovely person, both inside and out. Reminded him a bit like Haibara; her kindness and selflessness towards others.

But a tad miffed by this new flux of information, Nanami rose from his leather chair, teacup in hand, and walked over to the large window overlooking Shibuya Crossing, the thousands of city nerdowells commuting below, crammed like sardines.

“In the last four weeks, a total of eighteen people have been reported missing from the shrine,” he said, staring monotonously out the apartment window. “Evidence suggests it’s curse related. I and a few other sorcerers have been called in to investigate the disturbance.”

“Then perhaps this is your lucky break,” Hannah added, hoping to shed some light on the subject.

The quasi-business man continued looking out the apartment, almost like he wasn’t listening (but of course he was). “Itsukushima Shrine is a popular tourist destination in Miyajima. We’ll be fighting heavy crowds if we search during the day. Curse activity tends to worsen at night, but then there’s high and low tide to contest with. Your presence might also be needed. Could get dangerous.” He was listing all the potential roadblocks ahead.

“Can’t we disperse the crowds at least?” was Hannah’s suggestion. ��Close the shrine off to tourists?”

Nanami hummed deeply in thought. Things were never that simple. He at last turned away from the window. “You’re sure this is a vision?”

Hannah shrugged. “More sure than not.”

“And you think a Sukuna finger is hiding somewhere at the bottom of Hiroshima Bay?”

The seer frowned. She felt her confidence wane at his scrutiny. “It’s the only lead I have.”

Confined to his thoughts, Nanami walked back towards the coffee table, relinquishing his empty teacup and saucer, and plopped back down in the leather chair, hand in his chin. A disconcerted expression became him, though his eyes were fixed on the Royal Copenhagen. Hannah thought he looked far older than his real age said on paper. He was handsome, she decided, with golden blonde hair and mixed Scandinavian features, but in a battle-hardened, wise kind of way. Forever pensive and stoic, like he had crossed the river Styx and managed to survive the harrowing ordeal, but only just so. Even without the bloody cleaver knife in his hand from that night at the opera, she could tell he wasn’t much for taking days and nights off. Kento Nanami was certainly a man operating under a lot of stress.

“I can’t name anyone on the top of my head with a water curse technique,” he vexed tiredly, observing the porcelain tea set. “A diving team will have to be dispatched. Damn. It’s always a risk when we get non-sorcerers involved.”

“But maybe we won’t have to,” Hannah said, complexion brightening. “Because as it were, I know someone who might be able to help us. That is, if we can persuade her.”

Nanami’s hand fell to his lap, eyes raised. “Her?”

Hannah rested her teacup on the coffee table and hurriedly rummaged through her dress pocket for a folded piece of paper. She offered it to him.

“Her.”

Feeling pessimistic, Nanami took the paper and slowly opened it. His eyes landed on the contact’s name above, and thus the part-time jujutsu sorcerer’s face tensed into a shrewd scowl. He exhaled loudly through his nose.

A bowl of that rødgrød didn’t seem like such a bad fix all of a sudden.

Neither did some brandy.

Chapter Contents

#gojo takes a wife #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo x oc #satoru gojo #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #satoru x oc #romance #gojo satoru

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rosie-b · 9 months

Text

True Blue

Chapter 8: New Brooch, Who Dis?

Marinette rubbed the paper between her fingers and opened her mouth. “M. Agreste, I...”

Her voice trailed off as the absurdity of what she was about to offer hit her. Hey, M. Agreste, I was just wondering. Would you like me to risk certain illness and possible death to help you beat a couple of misled teenagers, heal your wife, and protect your son? Yes, I know nothing like that was covered in the agreement I signed, but I’ve given it a solid night’s thought and decided it might be the only way to make sure the fate of the world doesn’t end up in the wrong hands. Just putting that out there.

You can read the chapter below or on AO3!

Marinette slept in the next day.

It was completely accidental; she’d been so caught up in her thoughts the last night that she’d forgotten to set her alarm. Her parents, being busy in the bakery, hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until Adrien walked into the bakery fifteen minutes after the time when Marinette usually left by.

“Marinette?”

The first few times she heard her mother calling her name, Marinette didn't respond. She'd only just fallen asleep, after all, and she needed at least a few more minutes of shut-eye if she was going to function all day.

"Marinette!" Sabine called again. "Adrien is downstairs waiting to make sure you're okay and you're already late for classes! I know you're exhausted, dear, but you need to wake up."

Marinette swatted away her mother's hand as her brain begrudgingly turned itself on again. Blinking her eyes open, she stared at Sabine while her words slowly processed. Then she sat up in bed as a horrified look spread across her face.

"I'm late! Oh, no, no, no," she fussed as she got out of bed and started pulling on the clothes she'd laid out the evening before.

How could she have fallen asleep the minute before her alarm was supposed to go off? Why had she stared at the clock all night without setting the alarm as a fail safe? What was M. Agreste going to say when he found out that she'd been ten, no, fifteen minutes late to even get up that morning?

Sabine, who'd politely backed downstairs and closed the trapdoor once Marinette started changing, smiled at her daughter when she tore open the door and half fell, half climbed down the ladder.

"Make sure to eat something before you go," she reminded her. "We have some leftover pastries from yesterday in the kitchen if you'd like one."

"I'm already too late to eat breakfast!" Marinette blurted, her heart beating quickly as she rushed through the house, making sure she had everything she needed before heading to the bakery.

Adrien was waiting patiently by the counter, striking up a conversation with M. Dupain. For some reason, his forehead was creased, and he looked a bit sad, too.

“I have fencing practice after school,” he was saying, “And our lunches are at different times. I wish Père would allow Marinette to have lunch sooner so we could eat together, but it’s hard to change his mind about things like this.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe you could ask your bodyguard to drop you off here a little earlier,” M. Dupain offered as Sabine walked down the stairs behind Marinette while quietly insisting that she ate something before she left. “We’d give you both free breakfast in return! And you and Marinette could spend a little more time together. How does that sound?”

Adrien’s eyes strayed over to Marinette, and a soft smile settled over his features. “That sounds lovely,” he said wistfully.

Marinette paused on the stairs for a while as she watched Adrien. Sabine used the moment to stuff a pastry of some sort in her hand.

M. Dupain raised one hand to cover a smile. “Good,” he said, pleased. Then he moved to the back of the room, whispering something to Sabine, who also hid a smile as Marinette hurried over to Adrien.

“Adrien, you spy! I mean, so nice to say hi, er, to see you! I’m so sorry I overslept. Well, underslept, but overslept, too,” Marinette babbled as she chewed off a bite of the chausson aux pommes her mother had given her. “You didn’t have to make yourself late, too, just to make sure I was awake! What will your father say if he finds out you were tardy?”

Adrien’s smile widened as he leaned on the counter and winked at Marinette. “Well, what kind of knight would I be if I left my princess waiting?” he asked. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about me being marked tardy today. I went in to class, and then I told Ms. Bustier that I had to take a call from my father. She let me leave the classroom, and I came straight here. Père won’t even find out!”

Marinette hummed as she took another bite of the apple pastry. The initial rush of energy she’d felt on being woken by her mother was fading, and already her heart rate was back to normal. “That’s smart of you,” she said once she’d swallowed. “How did you know that would work?”

Adrien grimaced. “I learned it from Chloe,” he sighed, stepping away from the counter while Marinette picked up her school bag and walked over to the door. “Please forgive me, ma Princesse, I won’t do it again! I hereby swear not to use my power for evil.”

Marinette tossed the rest of the pastry in her mouth and chewed deliberately while she crossed her arms and waited for Adrien to start to squirm.

“I guess one time won’t hurt,” she said after a minute. “I appreciate you caring this much about me. But since when am I your princess?”

Adrien feigned confusion. “Haven’t you always been? Alas, it seems my devotion has gone unnoticed. I’ll just have to try harder,” he smirked. “Will you allow your humble knight to open the door for you, ma Princesse? As a sign of your knight’s loyalty and undying admiration for you.”

He was acting strange. Adrien didn’t usually do anything that could fall under the umbrella term of ‘rebellious,’ but this was the least Gabriel-approved behavior Marinette had seen from him since his doomed attempt to run away to school the first week.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Marinette asked as Adrien held the door open and waited for her to go through.

“Huh? About as much as I usually get, I guess. Why, is the princess concerned for her knight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and a cheeky grin plastered itself on his face.

Marinette scoffed as she stepped outside. “Concerned for his sanity, at least! You’re not acting very... you, today.”

She glanced at Adrien from the side of her eyes as he closed the door and stood beside her.

“Well, there’s no akuma out here changing my personality, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. It seemed like it was supposed to be a joke, but his smile and tone were strained.

“Even if there was one, it wouldn’t do much good,” Marinette murmured.

Adrien blinked, and then he leaned closer to Marinette, his grin turning conspiratorial.

“Right, because Golden Bug and his partner would protect you, just like they did before. They’re pretty charming, right? Do you have a favorite between the two of them?” His eyes glinted, but she was already moving away from him and didn’t notice.

“Well, Chat Grise’s suit isn’t half bad. I like the stripes,” Marinette replied absently, slipping into the back seat while the Gorilla held the door open for her.

Adrien frowned. “Okay, I admit Golden Bug’s suit is a bit boring for a fashion designer like you. But how is he personality-wise? Would you like to, I don’t know, go on a date with him if you had the chance?”

Marinette looked up sharply. “Date him? I still can’t figure out if he even knows what he’s doing, why would I date him on top of everything else? You can have him, though, if you want.”

Adrien seemed confused and almost wounded as the Gorilla closed the car door and went around to his side with an audible huff.

Realizing that maybe that hadn’t been the right thing for her to say, Marinette leaned close to the window and gave Adrien an apologetic smile as the car pulled away from the curb.

He offered a slow wave back, still just as confused as if someone had switched out his orange juice for embalming fluid when he wasn’t looking.

Marinette sat back in her seat and shrugged off the guilty twinge she felt. It wasn’t her fault that Adrien still thought the heroes of Paris were all they were cracked up to be. M. Agreste hadn’t told him about the family secret yet, and it wasn’t her place to share it.

Besides, she had far more pressing matters to worry about today.

It had taken Emilie Agreste twelve full years to fall into a coma from the Peacock’s poison. Two others had died from it before then, but who knew how long they had spent transformed and forming their children through its tainted magic. And one other person had transformed, used the broken Peacock, and lived with only the loss of her vision to detract from her success.

Marinette wondered how long she could last if she used the Peacock in battle. She’d been affected by wearing the brooch already, and her symptoms honestly hadn’t been all that bad. Just one pill had her back to normal in nearly no time, and as long as she kept taking the medicine, wasn’t it possible that she wouldn’t see any worse effects at all?

The car pulled into the Agrestes’ driveway, and Marinette got out and entered the mansion on autopilot.

“Good morning, Nathalie,” she said, walking past her with her hands clasped behind her back. “Do you have my pill ready for me?”

Ms. Sancoeur blinked once or twice. “Yes, it’s waiting for you at your desk.” She hesitated. “Are you feeling all right?”

Marinette snapped her fingers. “That’s what I should have asked him! No ‘worried for your sanity,’ just normal friend questions. I’m all right,” she added as an afterthought. “I got a whole fifteen minutes of sleep at the last second. It did make me late, though. Sorry.”

Ms. Sancoeur made a few adjustments on her tablet. “No, that’s all right, Marinette. Your health is important to me. Try to get more sleep tonight, though. If you’d like, I could draw up a sleep schedule for you, and then you wouldn’t have to sleep in again.”

Marinette walked into her desk, sending water splashing out of the cup sitting on it.

“Merde. That would be nice, but I don’t know how well I’d keep to it,” she said honestly, sliding around the desk and plopping into her chair. She dabbed at the water mess with her sleeve and Nathalie wrinkled her nose.

“I’ll get a cloth for it; just leave it alone. Now, the plan for today was that we’d start with mathematics and go from there, but considering that it isn’t your best subject, and that you’re obviously not quite awake yet, and that the first thirty minutes of class are over already, we’ll skip the lesson for today. Be ready for a double lesson on Monday, though. Alternatively, I could give you extra work to do over the weekend.”

Marinette pinched her arm and tried to get her brain back to the level of wakefulness she’d felt in the initial rush to get ready and leave.

“I think I’d rather do it over the weekend, please.”

Nathalie made a note on the tablet and set it down. “All right. Now, yesterday in history we were learning about—”

Marinette squirmed in her seat. “Wait, shouldn’t I take my pill first, like M. Agreste wanted me to?”

Ms. Sancoeur stared blankly at the far wall and took a deep breath. “Go ahead,” she told Marinette. “I’m sorry for starting the lesson early.”

Marinette gave her an absolving, tired yet beatific smile as she struggled to open the orange pill bottle.

Nathalie ended up having to get it for her.

__*__*__*__*__

“M. Agreste?”

Marinette had just finished her lunch, and Ms. Sancoeur had allowed her to visit Gabriel’s office. She knocked on the door after a moment’s pause, unsure if he had heard her.

The muffled sound of footsteps reached Marinette’s ears, and she stepped back from the door as M. Agreste pushed it open.

She swallowed and held the crinkled notebook page she’d been scribbling on a bit tighter. M. Agreste’s face was somber as he looked down at her.

“Yes, Miss Dupain-Cheng? Is there something wrong you need to tell me about?”

His voice was flat, as empty of emotion as it had been when she’d first been introduced to him. It was a stark contrast to the vulnerable earnestness he’d shown yesterday during the akuma fight.

Marinette rubbed the paper between her fingers and opened her mouth. “M. Agreste, I...”

Yeah, she sounded insane.

But M. Agreste was still staring down at her, his impatient frown growing deeper. She had to say something.

“I... just wanted to say that your son is really nice. He’s super polite and helpful, and you already know that since you raised him, so good job! And his haircut isn’t bad either, but I don’t know if that was his choice or yours because it looks professional, but his ears are hiding, like how the worst croissants in the batch are always at the back of the display shelf at home. Oh, and I’m sorry for being late this morning. I was up all night thinking about different ways I might die.”

She punctuated her speech with a wide grin as she rested her arm on the wall and promised herself to stick to whatever bedtime schedule Nathalie came up with.

Squinting just the tiniest bit, M. Agreste peered down at Marinette.

“And you bothered me during working hours just to say this?”

Crap.

“I just have a lot of feelings?” Marinette offered weakly. She felt like she’d heard that before somewhere. Figuring out what from probably wouldn’t save her skin, though, she thought as she slowly straightened into a more natural stance.

“Hm. Or perhaps you were going to say something else, but lost your nerve at the last moment. I see plenty of young interns suffering from that problem.”

He raised one hand, and Marinette thought he might step back into his room and close the door, but he only fixed the button on his sleeve. Sighing, he continued, “I suppose I should say something to you, as well, so I’ll go first to give you the courage to say what you really meant.

“I am... sorry for any possible discomfort witnessing the akuma battle yesterday may have given you. It was never my intention to make you feel like your position in this household depended on your willingness to do that; I just wanted to help you understand what akumatizations are really like. I assumed, since you’d been in an akuma battle before, that seeing another one wouldn’t be too much for you, but Nathalie reminded me that akumas used to make you very frightened. I apologize if that is still the case.”

That was unexpected. It seemed like everyone was acting weird today.

“It’s okay, M. Agreste,” Marinette said. “Seeing the battle first-hand helped me to understand what’s really going on in them, and knowing that it’s you behind Hawk Moth’s mask... I’m not all that afraid anymore. I just wish there was something I could do to help you and Nathalie get the Miraculous.”

The corner of M. Agreste’s lips moved upwards. “Good,” he said in a pleased tone. “I am happy to hear that. As I said yesterday, there are times when I, too, wish there was someone else to help fight, but the fact of the matter is that it’s far too dangerous for anyone to risk themself like that.”

That was the catch, wasn’t it? But still, “What if it wasn’t?”

Marinette’s heart pounded loudly as M. Agreste considered her words. His eyebrows were slightly raised, and he seemed confused, but there was a slight glint in his eyes like he was excited.

“What do you mean?”

“W-well, the Peacock brooch is broken, but it’s only affected people who used it to make something— someone with it! What if that’s the difference, and it’s still safe to use as long as you don’t make a magic kid—”

“A sentimonster,” M. Agreste interrupted. “That is the correct term.”

Marinette’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Really? That’s terrible; we should change that. Anyway,” she said, waving her hands as her nerves spiked, “I wore the brooch for a while, and even if I needed medicine afterwards, we have medicine for it. Like, do we even know for a fact that with it, anything serious would happen to me? It’s not like Emilie knew to take a pill every day back when she made Adrien, right?”

“She did not,” M. Agreste confirmed, looking almost amused as Marinette started pacing back and forth in front of his door while her rant continued.

“Right! So theoretically, I could wear the brooch every day and be fine as long as I took meds for the effects. What about transforming? Does the medicine still work against those effects?”

“Well, since they are the same effects, only heightened... Yes, it would.”

Marinette brought a fist down on her open palm. “Right! Cool, that sets my mind at ease somewhat. Um. So, since we’ve made progress medically — medicinally — uh, I was thinking — you need some help, and the Guardian doesn’t like Adrien — gah!”

Why couldn’t Marinette’s thoughts ever make sense once they wandered into her mouth?

As M. Agreste looked down at her expectantly, she took a deep breath and started again. “What if I became the new Peacock holder? And helped you get the Miraculous?”

A surprised noise came from M. Agreste’s throat. “You, the new Peacock? Marinette, that’s a dangerous, dangerous idea! The brooch is broken, you know that! Even if the medicine helps, it might not save you from the worst effects of the Miraculous. What you propose would have you risking almost certain death!”

“Only if we fail,” Marinette said, her voice surprisingly steady for once. “And if I don’t make any sentis, wouldn’t I avoid the worst effects anyway? Of course, it’s a risky plan. But what plan isn’t? I’ve already risked a lot by studying fashion, and see how well it’s worked out! With a second fighter and a bit of luck, I think we can win this struggle. What about you, M. Agreste? Do you have the courage to do what’s necessary to save your wife and son, or will you lose your chance by choosing not to trust me?”

He was definitely surprised, but as Marinette watched M. Agreste hopefully, she dared to hope that he was slightly impressed by her speech. He’d cocked one of his eyebrows, and there was a slight lift to his lips as he regarded her.

“Well said, Marinette! I could hardly make a better argument myself. But you are aware it’s more than just your health we are risking, no? If you should fail in your mission, are you willing to see Adrien pay the price?” He advanced towards Marinette, the light from his room casting his long shadow over her as he spoke. “How far are you willing to go in this fight, Miss Dupain-Cheng? Just as I’d never hire a skilless designer, I would never pick an ally who can’t fight, who could cost us the entire battle through one misstep. You asked me to trust you. Are you positive that I can?”

Marinette swallowed, drawing herself up as she stood firm. “I am. I would never do anything to risk Adrien’s well-being, much less the world’s. For a cause like this, I would never back down or change my mind. I might not be a skilled fighter, sir, but you can count on me to try my best. Only... if something happens to me because we’re wrong, will you tell Adrien what happened? It’s not fair to keep him in the dark so long.”

Gabriel’s face softened as he lightly touched the brooch under his ascot. “Of course, Marinette. I’ll make sure he knows about your devotion to the cause. Now, we’re both willing to have you join the fight. But even so, we face a good many obstacles. Nathalie, for example. I don’t think she would go along with our plan.”

Marinette’s mouth went dry. “What? She doesn’t think I’d make a good fighter, does she? It’s all the time I spent panicking in her class over akumas, isn’t it?” she chuckled. “I wish I would’ve known better.”

“It’s nothing you can fix now, Marinette,” M. Agreste said kindly. “She knows I’m looking for a potential ally, but since you’ve already been injured by the Peacock, I do not think she would allow us to move forward with the plan if she knew what further damage you were risking. She means well,” he sighed, “But her heart is just too tender for this situation. Losing a pupil of hers... I’m sure you can understand why she feels uncomfortable with the thought of you on the battlefield. Never mind that you’ve already proved yourself in the fight with Evillustrator.”

Marinette felt an odd surge of pride as she remembered the fight. She’d been on the wrong side that day, but she’d still earned M. Agreste’s respect!

“Now, I know you aren’t a trained fighter, but I can help you in that regard. Fencing is something of a family tradition, and I know a thing or two about martial arts as well. But we can’t let Nathalie know...” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “I know! We’ll lengthen your apprenticeship hours, and you can practice then. And if you’re willing to take some time out of lunch break, like today, we can fit in even more time, either for akumas or training, depending on the day. Does that sound good?”

Marinette’s fingers trembled slightly in nervous excitement. “I think so,” she responded. “So, you’re okay with me being the Peacock then? You’ll let me fight in battles and help convince Golden Bug and Chat Grise to hand over their Miraculous?” You’ll trust me with your son, with the health of your wife?

An old wrinkle line showed as M. Agreste smiled. “Of course,” he purred. “You’ve shown yourself to be very dependable, Marinette. I’d be proud to work with you.”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out in a relieved sigh. “Me too,” she said. “When do I start? Is there anything I need to know before the next battle?”

M. Agreste tilted his head in a nod. “Not as much as if you were creating... sentis, but yes, there is. You’ll need to know the transformation phrase, how to use your fan, and get used to the suit before joining me in a battle. You should begin today, after... well, how much time is left before lunch is over?”

Pulling out her phone, Marinette checked it and answered, “Fifteen minutes.”

“Hm. Not much time, but it should be just enough for the first lesson. Head to the atelier and take the elevator to the attic. I will meet you there.”

Marinette blinked. She hadn’t really expected M. Agreste to take her idea this soon, but she guessed it was for the best!

“Okay,” she said as Gabriel turned back to his room and closed the door.

It was an uneventful trip up to the attic, much like any other trip, but with the uniquely wealthy element of an elevator to make the trip shorter.

With nothing to do while she waited, Marinette walked over to the large butterfly window, sniffing and rubbing her nose with one hand. Apparently, the attic didn’t get dusted often enough.

She was going to be a Miraculous holder. Responsible for the fate of the entire world, along with the other holders, not all of whom seemed to be aware of that responsibility. Golden Bug, for example — he hadn’t lost a fight yet, but his cheerful, punster attitude seemed unsuited for the gravity of his role. Did he not care about what could happen if his Miraculous was abused? Was he abusing it, himself?

If he knew the truth about Adrien, would he see him as any more than a glorified toy, or worse, a monster, like the sentis had apparently been dubbed for some time?

Marinette made a pact with herself. She would not abuse her power, either by using it or failing to. She would not create any sentis — even ignoring the fact that doing so might kill her, it didn’t seem right to her that life could be made and disregarded so easily. She would never want to be responsible for someone’s whole existence or as completely in control of them as the sentis’ parents were.

She didn’t want to be the Peacock holder. But she also didn’t have a choice. This was the only way to keep Adrien safe, to right the wrongs of the past before they hurt more people.

As Gabriel stepped out of the elevator and walked up behind her with the broken brooch in his hand, Marinette promised herself that she would take up this mission, and she wouldn’t give up until she’d made sure that Adrien would be all right, that everyone who was dead would come back, and that no one would be hurt by the Miraculous again.

“Here. Once Duusu comes out of the brooch, you can transform using this phrase — ‘Duusu, spread my feathers.’ That will be your first step.”

Marinette took the brooch from Gabriel, glancing at its flawed beauty for a moment before pinning it to the center of her shirt. The same blue kwami she’d met before came spiraling out of it, shaking themself excitedly as they looked up at her.

This was it. This was her last chance to back out of the mission and leave the responsibility to someone else.

But she already knew she would never do that. There was only one path laid out at her feet, one fate hidden in the mists of the future. And Marinette was ready to face it, whatever it was.

“Duusu,” she said in a solemn tone as M. Agreste watched from the side, “Spread my feathers.”

The electric sensation of magic rushed over her, and Marinette transformed.

#new chapter out!!#bluewing au #kwami swap #peacock!Marinette #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #i've been sitting on this for like a week trying and failing to come up with a good title for the chapter #oh well i'm allowed to be silly sometimes

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maudeeloise · 2 years

Text

Ice Cream Parlor || s.h

Pairing : Steve Harrington x reader

Genre : fluff, enemies to lovers?

Warning : curse words

Summary : The first conversation you had with Steve Harrington after years of rivalry.

A/N : About the ice cream price, I searched it on google and it says that ice cream costs 50 cents in the 80s, please let me know if I’m wrong. Also, comment if i should do a part 2!

You hated Steve Harrington with every inch of your body and soul. You could spend a whole day just to list every reason why you loathed him. It started in kindergarten when he ripped your drawing of a dog. He said it was stupid that you chose the color blue for the dog.

Then in first grade, he threw a mud on your favorite dress on your birthday party. You cried for days, but your mom thought that he was just being a silky kid, so she never did anything, instead she told you that he might had a little crush on you.

Your rivalry with Steve Harrington didn’t stop there. He never apologized for the things he did, instead it gotten worse the older you both were. Sometimes he would make fun of your hair or your outfit, even the smallest things like the way you walk. That was until you entered high school.

Steve Harrington had found his own circle of friends and so did you. He barely notice you because he had his eyes on someone else : Nancy Wheeler. You weren’t bothered at all, in fact you were glad that he finally left you alone.

The two of you didn’t have any sort of communication — it was almost like you both were complete strangers to each other. Even after graduation, you both acted like you didn’t recognise each other — despite that you both went seperate ways, you went to New York for college and Steve just stayed in Hawkins, trying to find the perfect job for him.

It was summer 1985 when you decided to visit your family in Hawkins. Your sister who just turned 14, wouldn’t stop bragging about the new mall that just opened in town while your brother who was a year younger than her, kept telling that nothing was interesting about the mall.

“My friends has shopped there, Mom.” She reasoned with a whiny voice and a pout.

“I know, but I’m busy and you father’s at work.” Your Mom tried her best to make her understand, but she received a long groan instead.

“I have a suggestion, if you don’t mind.” You joined the conversation. In the corner of your eye, you could see that your sister’s face lit up with hope. Your mom nodded for you to continue. “I can take Erin to the mall and you can stay at home with Charlie.”

“But you just got here yesterday, are you sure you’re not exhausted?” She asked as concern laced through her voice.

“I’m fine, Mom.” You smiled. “I promise.”

She let out a long sigh before she turned to Erin. She was giving her puppy eyes, hoping for her to agree with your suggestion. “Promise me you’ll behave and don’t leave your sister’s side.”

Erin squealed. “Thank you, Mom! I promise, I’ll behave.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, let’s go.”

“If you need anything, just call me.” Your mom said.

“We’ll be fine.” You reasured with a smile.

You reached for the knob and opened the door before you exited your house, following your sister to your car. She was so excited that you couldn’t help but to laugh at the way she added little jumps while walking towards the vehicle.

It was a 10 minutes ride with Erin promoting the mall. She listed everything her friends said that was at the mall. She even included the ice cream parlor, in spite of never liking them. Erin never liked sweets stuff, you were surprised when she mentioned it.

“They said the ice creams are amazing there.” She said with full enthusiasm.

“But you don’t like ice creams.” You quirked your eyebrows, however your eyes were still on the road.

“I want to try.”

That was how you ended up walking towards the ice cream parlor. It was odd how it was the first thing you both went to in the mall. Earlier you thought that Erin would go on a shopping spree.

She walked in a fast pace, almost running and you had to follow her rhythm in order to not losing her at the mall.

“Erin, slow down.” you exclaimed, but she didn’t answer. She barely listened to you anyway, her attention was full on the ice cream parlor which name you finally learned : Scoops Ahoy.

Once you reached the entrance of the parlor, your instantly stopped on your track while Erin walked up to pick the ice cream. Your face fell in realization on who was selling the ice cream. Steve fucking Harrington.

Was this her plan all along?, you thought but didn’t say.

“Welcome to Scoop’s Ahoy, what can I get you?” He asked Erin with a smile.

Her index tapped on her chin as she let out a long hum. Her eyes went back and forth from left to right. She couldn’t choose.

With a long sigh, you gained your courage to make an appearance. Here goes nothing.

You placed your hand on your sister’s shoulders, but your eyes were on Steve. “Any recommendations? Ice cream of the day?”

You expected an insult or a sarcastic come back, instead he replied with the same smile, “People usually buys vanilla, chocolate, or mint chocolate chip.”

With a nod, you glanced at your sister, gesturing that she would answer. “I’ll try chocolate.”

“What about you, young lady?” Steve asked you. “What can I get you?”

“Chocolate chip mint?” You said.

“Alright.” He said before collecting the cones and scooping the ice cream. He gave each ice cream one at a time — one to you and one to your sister.

“How much?” You handed your ice cream to Erin before fishing your wallet in your pocket.

“That would be $1.” He said. You took out a few pennies and placed it on the counter. Steve moved the coins with his index as he counted them. “Typical Y/N, no exchange.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Surprising how you suddenly remember my name.”

“I’ll never forget that face.” He said. It wasn’t sarcasm nor an insult, he was being friendly.

“I thought you’re going to college.” You said.

“No, I work here.” He shook his head. “Besides I never said I would.”

“Steve Harrington, working at a parlor. What a scandal.” He let out a soft chuckle.

“I heard you went to Harvard-“

“Yale.” You corrected. “I never said I wanted to go to Harvard.”

“Why?” He knitted his eyebrows.

“My Dad went to Yale, so did my grandfather and my older brother.” You explained. “It’s a family thing.”

“Any plans after college?” He asked.

“I’ll find a job.” You paused. “Or maybe I’ll just move to New York and help my grandparents.”

“That’s quite far, don’t you think?”

“I’ll adapt.”

“Hawkins loves you.” He joked.

You giggled. “I know they do.”

He slightly glanced over your shoulders to see a line of customers behind you. “Well, I have a job to do, so maybe we can talk later after my shift?”

“Steve Harrington, are you asking me on a date?” You fake gasped.

“No, no offense.” He chuckled. “Just catching up with an old friend.”

“Friend?” You raised an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, we hated each other.”

“It was middle school.” He paused. “So, what do you say? Tonight I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Sure.” You nodded. “No pranks this time.”

“I promise.” He said.

With that you sent him a smile and took your ice cream from your sister before you left the parlor.

Maybe your mom was right, he had always had a little crush on you or maybe he was just being friendly. As he said, he was just catching up with an old friend.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger thing imagine #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - make it home

Part five:

The next day rolled around and Mr Evershed walked out of his office to Loraine and Mrs Carp who were stood at the reception desk waiting for him.

“Any sign of them?”

Loraine shook her head.

“Nothing, no calls, texts or emails.”

“Nothing?”

“No news articles about a teen boy being found dead if that’s what you mean.” Mrs Carp said.

“Seriously?” He asked sharply.

“Come on you can’t tell me it’s not true. There’s no way that boy survived a wound like that. They’re probably burying his body as we speak.” She shrugged.

“Right just go. I’m done talking to you.”

“Say whatever you want Martin you know it’s true, just like they did to their parents.”

“Sue!” He yelled.

She left and he sighed, running a hand down his face as he turned to the receptionist.

“You don’t think it’s true do you?” She asked.

He looked at her.

“That Jordan you know.. died?” She whispered.

“I hope not. Do you have their address on file?”

“Oh yeah sure hold on.”

She gave it to him and looked at him in confusion as he walked to his office, grabbed his keys and jacket and walked back out.

“You’re in charge Loraine!”

As he drove he couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. Should he go? Should he leave you guys alone?

As he got closer to the address he noticed how the homes grew further and further apart until he arrived at one on a lonely street, covered in vibes and leaves.

He parked his car outside and slowly got up, only to see the door was already open and Ryan was stood there.

He looked exhausted and he was dressed in his uniform from yesterday.

“Didn’t know schools did house calls.” Ryan said.

Mr Evershed walked over to the door and stood in front of him.

“We make exceptions.” He said.

Ryan gestured for him to come in and closed the door behind them both, leading the headteacher through the house and into a room at the back of the house.

“Are you alright Ryan?”

“Yeah I’m fine.”

“And Jordan?”

“Ask him for yourself.”

Ryan pointed to the sofa.

Jordan was laid on the sofa with a drink in his hand, his other hand resting over his side.

Mr Evershed walked over and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

“How’re you doing Jordan?” He asked.

Jordan looked across and set his drink in the floor, slowly sitting up with a small groan as he looked at Mr Evershed.

“As good as I can be I guess. Healing alright though if that’s what you want to know.”

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“Nah, Ryan fixed me up.”

Jordan lifted his shirt showing his teacher the bandage wrapped around his side before dropping his shirt again.

“Are you ever going to go to the hospital?” He asked.

“I’ve had worse. From (Y/N) actually, they were a mean kid to me you know.”

Mr Evershed smile a little and Jordan gave him a little grin.

The teacher began to look around the room, taking everything in, it was pretty clean consider three teenagers lived here.

“Where is (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Garden, I’ll take you.”

Jordan stood up with a groan and started to lead Mr Evershed to the back door where he pointed to a bench that was overlooking the forest behind the house.

“They sit there when they need to clear their head or think about something.” Jordan explained.

“They’ve been sat there pretty much all night.” Ryan said.

Mr Evershed nodded and opened the door, stepping out he closed it behind him and slowly walked over.

The closer he got the more he noticed about the garden, but what stuck out the most was the two headstones on the other side of the fence.

He walked over and sat next to you on the bench, staring out into the forest with you.

“It’s peaceful.” He said.

“Family owned house, built years ago.” You replied.

“It’s nice, different.”

You flicked your eyes to him before you went staring at the forest again.

“Why’re you here?” You asked.

“I was concerned about you all, and I wanted to make sure Jordan was okay. The police have been in contact and said they’re pressing charges against the group for trespassing.”

“There’ll be more. Always is.”

“More what?” He asked.

You looked at him.

“People like him. People after us.”

He nodded his head.

“Why not move house? Move town?” He asked.

“They always find us eventually, there’s no use running now.”

“There is if it means protecting yourselves, keeping you all safe.”

You sighed and let out a small scoff as you stared at your hands before balling them into fists.

“It’ll never be safe. Not for us.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“As your teacher I think I do, if it means I can somehow help keep you safe.”

You didn’t reply and he sighed, looking back out at the forest.

His gaze was fixated on the two headstones, he tried reading the words but from this distance he couldn’t make them out.

You stood up and walked over to them, turning your head towards him and he got up and walked over, crouching next to you.

Reaching out, you brushed your hand over one before moving over to the next.

“I saw you looking at them. You want to who’s they are. They’re not the real graves, just ones we put here as a way to be able to remember them I suppose.”

He looked at the stones.

(M/N) (L/N). Loving mother and cherished leader.

(F/N) (L/N). Loving father and mentor.

“We know people say we killed our parents, most believe it’s true because they try sneaking into the house and see these.”

“What happened to them.”

You didn’t say anything, you stood up and started to walk away and he followed you.

“You guys can’t keep living here alone.” Mr Evershed called.

“We can. Social won’t take us, they tried and we ran away back here, they eventually gave up and just left us. They give us money every week and we live off our parents savings.”

“And how much do you have left?”

“Enough to get by if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He sighed, jogging over to catch up to you and he placed his hand over the door handle to stop you from going inside.

You turned to him and he dropped his hand.

“I’m worried about all of this, people coming after you, the accusations about you three. You all living alone barely scraping by, it’s not good.”

“We’ll survive.” You replied.

He sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out an envelope he handed it over to you.

“It’s enough there for two weeks. You come back to me when it runs out okay? If you need anything you find me.” He said softly.

“I can’t accept your money.” You handed it back.

“It’s from the school. They have an emergency fund for things like this. Just take it.”

You listened to his heart, you knew his was lying but you didn’t tell him that, you simply nodded and headed inside, setting it on the counter as you stood in front of your brothers.

Mr Evershed looked at the three of you.

At first he saw three dangerous teenagers with not a care in the world.

Now he saw three broken teenagers who were just fighting against everything and everyone just for the right to live and it broke his heart.

“You two need to come back to school tomorrow. Jordan come back on Monday, take the time to rest and get better.”

You all just have him a nod and he walked to the door with the three of you behind him.

“And I mean it, if you need anything you find me got it? I don’t care what for, come find me?”

With that he got in his care and left, looking through his rear view mirror he saw the three of you standing there and then the door closed.

Everyone had it wrong about you three, you were nothing like they said, but he couldn’t let you guys do this alone, and he was going to help somehow

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine #mr evershed x reader make it home

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helenaheissner · 17 days

Text

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 17

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

If that's too steep for you but you'd still like to support my work, consider making a one-time donation via Ko-Fi:

Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

4 Years Ago

“Hey there,” I said as I walked through the Lair, our school’s main cafeteria, renowned for its aggressively mediocre food. It was a wide room divided into two halves, and overlooked an admittedly gorgeous lawn leading to the big white chapel that was on all of our brochures. The lighting was dim in the late evening hours- the cafeteria was closing in less than an hour, but I’d been so busy at the library trying to get caught up on everything that I’d barely even looked at the time. And then my stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours, at which point I braved the thousand yard trek from the library to the Lair. I’d managed to acquire a club sandwich for myself and searched far and wide across the cafeteria in search of someone, anyone, I even remotely knew, anything to say I was at least making some goddamn friends finally. I traversed all the way to the far end, overlooking the law, where, atop a pleather seat in a booth eating a caesar salad, I found someone. “It’s Watanabe, right? Don’t we have two classes together?”

The rumpled, exhausted looking boy with the shaggy black hair falling around his face looked up from his salad and his phone and made eye contact with me, seeming legitimately startled that anyone was talking to him. “Oh, uh, yeah, I think so. But, I… Uh, I don’t think I remember your name?”

“Zeke Underhill,” I smiled. “Mind if I sit? This place looks haunted at night, figured it’s better to have strength in numbers.”

He laughed weakly. “Yeah, I suppose so. Uh, go ahead and sit. I don’t know if I’m that great of company, though.”

“I mean you’re here, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s all that’s required.”

“Yeah, but I meant, like, conversationally.” “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

He gave another weak laugh, filtered through a snort. “Yeah, I guess. Anything else you wanna talk about?”

“You ready for Professor Eddington’s test next week?”

“We have a test? Already?” Watanabe leaned forward, panic encroaching on his acne-marked face.

“Yeah, he announced it yesterday,” I said.

“Shit.”

“You were there yesterday- I saw you,” I pointed out.

“I… Was distracted.”

“By what?”

He did a conspiratorial double-take, then pulled up an image on his phone and slid it over to me. “I call her Dai Gurren.”

“Oh, awesome!” I said. “Like from Gurren Lagan?”

“Yeah! You a fan?”

“Huge- love anime. Giant robots for days,” I said.

“Awesome!” he said. “What are your favorites?”

“Uh, Gundam, especially SEED and IBO. Raxephon, Mazinger Z, IGPX-”

“I! G! P! X!” he said, fist pumping at each letter. It was certainly something- he’d practically come alive once we’d both started speaking the shared language of nerd. We wound up talking for a while after that, and he invited me to hang out in his dorm’s common room with him the next night to watch Planet With. So, I headed over there at 8 PM, into a beige room with a collection of couches and desks and a plasma screen television adorning the far wall.

A girl was there with him, short and black with great hair and huge… Tracts of land.

“Zeke, this is my girlfriend, Olivia,” he said. “Olivia, this is Zeke, from our class with Eddington.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said, half-heartedly offering a handshake.

I picked up on a disappointed vibe from her before even making hand-contact. “You too. Hey, uh, if you guys wanna have a date night, I can scram-”

“No, it’s fine,” Watanabe said.

I noted the frustrated look on Olivia’s face right away. “Aaaare you sure, Watanbe?”

“Please, call me Frank,” he said. “And yeah, it’s fine. Olivia and I wanted to ask you something, anyway.”

“We did?” Olivia said.

“Yeah, we did,” Frank furrowed his brow. “But not till later. For now, let’s watch this weird freaking show!”

And so we did, though after an episode, Olivia and Frank started making out right next to me. I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the tv, but then it kept going the entirety of the second episode.

“I’ll see myself out,” I said, getting up from the uncomfortable couch and heading for the door.

Frank pulled himself off of his girlfriend for five seconds and managed to grab me by the back of my shirt. “Wait! WAIT! Not yet!”

I rolled my eyes and gave a mild exhale. “What’s up?”

“Still need to ask you something!”

“Then fire away,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“Do you wanna join our robotics team?” he asked. “I want at least three of us for it, and based on our conversation yesterday, I’d say you really know your stuff.”

I turned around and looked at Frank, all pleading and hopeful and earnest and enthusiastic, while also noting Olivia’s face- annoyed, frustrated, but some of that was seemingly aimed at herself more than at me.

“Sure,” I said. I mean what the hell, it would be the closest thing I had to a social life. What was the worst that could happen?

***

NOW

Kate stood on her tip toes as she kissed me goodnight under the lamppost on the corner of my street, her lips wet and slick from her lipstick, her tongue entering my mouth as mine entered hers, her hands on my chest as mine squeezed her butt. She giggled, and gave me one more peck on the cheek. “You have a good night, Mr. Underhill?”

“I had a great night, Ms. Calloway,” I said, drinking in the cherry-blossom scent of her perfume. “Sure I can’t convince you to come up for a night-cap?”

“My heart says yes, my brain and body say I’m exhausted after tonight,” she said. “Say hi to Faith for me, though. Let’s all hang out again this week, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I said.

She turned around and started to scamper off, but then pivoted around and ran back to me and kissed me one more time. I stood there, stunned as she ran off again, but I smiled anyway. ‘Hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away’ as she herself admitted she’d once thought about me.

I ambled up to my apartment, the witching hour long since past, whistling ‘Feel Good Inc’ under my breath as I turned on the hallway light and took off my leather jacket. Kate and I had gotten In ‘N’ Out and eaten our burgers together in the back of her truck while parked on top of a cliff in the Hollywood Hills. We looked out into the city and just… Talked. About us. About the tournament. About Kate’s whole ‘image makeover’ plan. I’d never been great at the self-promotion stuff, but she seemed to be taking to it relatively well.

And then, you know… We made out a bunch. Started getting a little frisky but stopped short of outright fooling around. We weren’t there yet, and Kate admitted she wasn’t sure if she was totally comfortable exploring her body like that at the moment. At least not until she was further along in her transition. Still, it wasn’t an absolute, and she’d even said if there was anyone she’d wanted to explore it with

I jumped when I saw Faith laying on the couch, staring up at her phone while All My Children played on mute from the tv screen. A handle of vodka sat on the coffee-table, significantly reduced in contents compared to when I’d last laid eyes on it. “Hey,” I said, walking over to the couch. “You okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m drinking alone- does that sound okay to you?”

“It definitely doesn’t,” I said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, pushing aside the table to make some room for me in this equation. “What’s going on? Who are you texting?”

“I’m not texting anyone,” Faith said, rolling onto her side and facing me. “I’m contemplating texting Olivia.”

“Oh?” I said, swatting her hand away when she tried to reach for the vodka. “What are you contemplating texting her?”

She looked at me with a tortured expression. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Okay, I won’t make you say it. But if you don’t, then I can’t help talk you down from this proverbial ledge, girl,” I said.

She pouted. Which was in no way cute, definitely not, I definitely wasn’t still thinking that about her. Not in the slightest. “I miss her.”

My jaw dropped, and I blinked. Hard. “What?”

“I… She… I miss her.”

“You… Miss her. After what she did to you, you miss her?”

“She apologized,” Faith said weakly.

“After what she did to Kate, you miss her?”

“Kate started it,” Faith said with a wave of her hand.

My eyes narrowed.

“Okay, that’s not a great line of internal logic, I know,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs. “But like… Kate did provoke her.”

“What are you gonna say next? That you provoked Olivia into cussing you out when you-”

“Don’t go there, Zeke,” Faith snapped. “And don’t… Don’t make that comparison, please.”

“Okay, but can you please consider this from my perspective for a moment?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Olivia has now been weird and hostile about two trans girls coming out to her- one is my best friend, the other is my girlfriend.”

Her eyes, previously fixed on our rotating ceiling fan, shot towards me. “Girlfriend?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, flinching at her intensity. “We’re… Uh, well, we’re putting labels on it now.”

“How long has that been a thing?”

“About,” I started, then checked the clock on the homescreen of my phone, “Five hours?”

“I see.”

“What?” I asked.

“... Nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Faith,” I said, “If you’ve something to say, please just say it.”

“...”

“Faith.”

“...”

“Faith!” I said. No, no, stop getting angry with her- she’s drunk, you’ve dealt with drunk people plenty of times without losing your temper. She’s drunk and she’s lovesick and she’s dealing with the uncomfortable truth that someone she loved might not exactly be the best person ever.

Then again, it wasn’t like I was in any way unbiased where Olivia Root was concerned.

I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, letting the fresh air filter up into my brain and clear out all the junk. “Actually, it’s okay. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through with all this, you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to tell me.”

“But I do wanna tell you, I just… Can’t,” she said, looking down at me, hair framing her face beautifully, freshly-shaven legs stretched across the couch…

NO, NO, BAD! I thought instantly. You have a girlfriend. Do not check out Faith like that. You are not gonna be like Dad. “Okay,” I said, “If you can’t, then you can’t. Just please, please don’t text Olivia the ‘I miss you’ text- I’m really worried about what’s down that road.”

She nodded sagely… And then hiccuped. I suppressed a chuckle

She failed to suppress hers, which I didn’t not think was cute. She’s. Just. A. Friend. I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over again.

“How was your date?” she asked.

“Really nice,” I said.

She winced. I squinted. Was she… Okay, no, no, no, no. Don’t read into that. Just don’t. Nothing good down that road either.

“Kate really is something, isn’t she?” Faith asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled, the image flickering in my mind of her on my lap in the back of that truck, the city below us and the stars above, all the time and opportunity in the world. I felt like I could be whoever I wanted to be when I was around her, and I knew she felt the same about me. “I’m… I’m glad you two have become friends.”

She gave a smile I couldn’t help but think looked a bit bitter, and said, “I am too.”

That was when both of our phones went off. We checked them, and I saw an alert from the robot fighting tournament committee. Next week’s fights had been announced. Faith and I’s next fight had been announced.

“Oh, crap,” we both said at the same time.

***

9 Months Ago

“Hey, uh, Zeke?”

“What’s up, Faithy?” I said, sitting at the kitchen table and eating a plate of turkey sausage and scrambled eggs while scrolling through some onboarding documents on my laptop that I had to read for a temp job that started tomorrow. Help getting a new type of passenger plane ready- they needed extra workers for a few months, but there was no chance of it leading to anything full-time. Perfect, as far as I was concerned.

Faith was having a bit more trouble finding temp jobs since she started her transition a few months back- nobody said out loud they didn’t wanna hire her because she was trans, but it was hard for her- or me, for that matter- to take it any other way when she was a bloody genius engineer and yet they kept hiring other folks from our graduating class who I knew weren’t as smart as her.

Such as me, for example.

“Will you take me bra shopping?” she asked. She stood in the doorway to her room, wearing a baggy black and gold West Point football jersey over her long red skirt. Interesting fashion choice in the middle of the last gasp of the baking summer heat.

I nearly spat out my black coffee. “Um… Yes?”

“Really? You mean it? I don’t wanna inconvenience you-”

“I’m just a little confused as to why you want me to go with you. Did you suddenly forget how to drive?”

“No, it’s not that,” Faith said. “I just… Look, my breasts are budding and my nipples are all poking through my tops, but I don’t really pass yet, so I’m kinda scared to go bra shopping alone, okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at the five-foot-three-inch girl with the perfect hair and the perfect makeup, and sincerely wondered how anyone could see anything other than a young woman. “Alright, sure. Just gimme a few minutes.”

“Are you sure- I know you’ve gotta read and sign all that stuff by tomorrow-”

“It can wait a few hours,” I said, closing my laptop and standing up.

As I made my way for my bedroom to put my computer away, Faith asked, “Can I hug you?”

She’d been asking that a lot, lately. “You know you don’t always have to ask, right?”

“Yeah, but, I… I don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable,” she said, looking at her feet as they traced the surface of the floor.

I smiled gently. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Faith.”

“I did that one time, when Olivia and I kept making out right next to you-”

“Yeah, but that’s her fault for being a jackass,” I said.

Faith glared at me.

“Sorry,” I said, “Forgot I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

I stepped around her, but then she grabbed a fistful of the back of my shirt again. I chuckled, then turned around and hugged her.

And then I felt something, two somethings, poking my chest.

My eyes bulged. “Uh, Faith-”

Her eyes did the same, and she leapt off of me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said, laughing nervously, scratching the back of my head.

Silence, so awkward it belonged in an episode of The Office, sat over the room.

Finally, Faith broke it: “Well, uh, do you get the point now?”

My mouth curved up into a smile.

“Or do you need another poke?” she said, looking ready to mug for the proverbial camera.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Just the tips, right?” she said.

And I laughed, waaaaayyy harder than I should have at puns that stupid. And she giggled at her own joke, swaying back and forth as she stood there, light from the window scattering around her hair like a brilliant halo, framing her in all her awkward, ridiculous, degenerate, glory. And I saw her. I saw HER. And she was the same person I’d met all those years ago, but everything that had always been good about her- her heart, her humor, her sincerity- had all been amplified twenty fold and was now wrapped up in a very pretty package.

A shot of emotion, hot and fierce and downright ravenous, went through my heart and pumped through the rest of my body. Yearning, desire, attraction, all slamming into me like a violent tide.

Oh, crap, I thought.

***

Present Day

The names ‘George Gregson’ and ‘Pendulum’ loomed large in the robotics community. Winning five championships and only having four total losses in the professional circuit to your name over a decade-spanning career tended to have that effect. Faith and I had been lucky enough to not have to face him at all our freshman season, and that he’d been knocked out of the championships due to mechanical failure in the semi-finals.

Yes, that’s right- Kate had beaten the guy. On a technicality- his engine just overheated and shorted out within ten seconds of the match starting. Kate hadn’t landed a single blow against the guy before experiencing victory by default, something even she admitted was pretty hollow. But it was also the only reason she’d gotten to the finals. Which was probably the only reason Faith and I had won last year, because I was convinced we would lose to Pendulum in a fair fight. Olivia and Faith had a similar opinion on our prospects against Gregson last season.

And given Gregson already had a 3-0 record and was basically guaranteed a spot in the championship bracket, I saw no reason for this season to be any different.

Faith and I stood in our rented garage in Culver City, looking at Dai Gurren, wondering what, precisely, the hell we were going to do.

“This is bad, Zeke,” Faith said.

“I know it’s bad, Faithy,” I replied.

“Please don’t call me that anymore,” she said, somewhat curtly.

I blinked. “Ooookay,” I said, hoping the bite wasn’t too obvious in my voice.

If it was, she didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. “We need to win both of our remaining fights if we want a spot in the championship.”

“I am aware of this,” I said, breaking the power tools out of their plastic containers. Drills. Lots of drills. Appropriately enough. “So, Ms. Chief Engineer/Team Captain: how do we approach this?”

Faith took out a drill and pulled on a pair of safety goggles. “We work with what we’ve got. Also, text Kate the address and tell her to meet us here. I have an idea.”

I fired off the text, and then Faith and I started disassembling the front of Dai Gurren and removing the maw of six small drills. We replaced them with much larger, thicker drills, all made of titanium and sharp enough to puncture sheet iron. And which, hopefully, would stand up to Pendulum’s swing of death a bit better.

Pendulum was the type of unconventional bot that worked primarily through raw power. It was tall and cylindrical, painted jet black and made of carbon steel. Down the middle was a hammer that was normally nestled safely inside a slot, held in place by a magnet, but a flip of Gregson’s control panel caused the magnet to turn over to a reversed charge magnet that repelled the metal hammer with a terrifying concussive impact. I’d seen it undercut bots and tear their faceplates off, shatter weapons and crush wheels and brutalize engines. It was perfectly designed to destroy flippers and spinners, and most drills and other melee weapons weren’t safe to use in a direct assault. You had to come at Pendulum from an angle, stay out of its range. That was its only real weakness- the angle of its attack was limited to what was right in front of it.

Which would be less of a problem if Gregson weren’t also a ridiculously good driver. So good, the only driver I could imagine having even a fraction of a chance against him was…

Entering the garage right that moment, wearing ripped jeans and a purple tank top, her hair tied back and her face sans-makeup. “Hello there!”

I smiled. “General K-”

“We don’t have time,” Faith said. “Hey, Kate. Did you bring the stuff?”

“Poly’s in my truck,” she said, hitching her thumb back and pointing to the parking lot outside. “I’m not crazy about incurring a bunch of damage outside the box though.”

“Then it’s a good thing this will be a no-contact match,” Faith said. “We just need to work on our driving.” She pointed at me without making eye contact. “We both do.”

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. But now probably wasn’t the time or the place, so I let it slide.

We cleared out the workstation, swept the floor clean, and put the bots on the ground: Polyphemus, Dai Gurren, and Gurren, our minibot. It was barely the size of Faith’s handbag, with a single drill protruding from the front. But we would need every weapon in our arsenal if we had a snowball’s chance in hell on this one.

“Ready?” Kate asked from the other side of our garage.

“Ready,” Faith said.

“Ready,” I said, not feeling at all ready. This, a match against Kate, felt… Wrong. Even a training match, a glorified game of two-hand-touch football, felt distinctly off when fought against my girlfriend.

Which could pose a serious problem going forward.

Polyphemus’ ax was still attached, meaning it was moving slower than it would normally. Which was good- Pendulum’s slow and steady speed was one thing we could plan for. Even still, Kate hurdled towards us, dividing our two bots down the middle and pivoting left very suddenly to aim for DG. Faith went on the retreat, letting Poly chase DG in circles before suddenly changing direction while I went after Kate from behind.

That was when Kate shot left again and went on the retreat; Poly slid over to my feet and skidded into a sharp turn as both DG and regular G were giving chase.

I flanked wide and went around the room counterclockwise, going towards Poly at its center before banking right and connecting, very lightly, with its wheel. Faith did the same with its other side.

“You got me!” Kate said. “Great job!”

“Thanks!” I smiled.

“It’s not good enough,” Faith said.

“Huh?” I said.

“We need to be on the offensive the entire time, both of us. Gregson is relentless- he will not give us the chance to get our bearings. Let’s go again.”

And because she was, objectively speaking, correct, I nodded, and we went again.

Kate didn’t make it easy on us, forcing us to scramble for enough ground to try and attack her from the sides, but after a few minutes we managed it.

But it wasn’t good enough for Faith, so we went again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again, a few more times after that, until we all ran out of fuel.

“Okay, I think we’re done for the day,” I finally said.

“What are you talking about?” Faith said.

“We can’t expend any more of our fuel budget if we wanna be able to comp Katie for helping us today,” I said. “Which you agreed to do- in fact, you suggested it.”

“That… Okay, yeah, fair enough,” Faith said.

“Good fight, y’all,” Kate said, walking over and taking her goggles off, then taking mine off of my face and poking my nose playfully. “Boop.”

I smiled, and probably looked like a huge dork.

Kate went to do the same with Faith, but swatted her hand away.

“Sorry,” Kate said.

“You really need to work on not touching people all the time without warning!” Faith said with a nasty grimace and a clenched jaw.

Kate’s eyes dropped. “Sorry.”

My eyes narrowed. “Little hostile there, Faithy, don’t you think?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that!” she snapped.

I balked, then raised a finger and took a step forward. “What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what aren’t you telling me?” I said. “Because it’s clearly something- you’ve said as much.”

“I also said I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“And that’s fair. But what isn’t fair is you taking out your frustration over that fact on me and especially on my girlfriend!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Kate said, holding up both hands and offering a conciliatory smile.

“Like hell it isn’t- you came all the way over here to help us, your competition, do better in a fight, in spite of the risks to your bot and having to take time away from your own stuff to do this,” I said, “And Faith rewards you by acting like a drill sergeant and then hissing at you!”

“Oh for- don’t do that! Don’t use your girlfriend like a talking point in your argument. Your problem is with me, don’t make it about how she and I are trying to establish boundaries!” Faith said.

“You both know I’m standing right here, yeah?” Kate said flatly.

“Yes!” Faith and I both shouted.

Kate stared at us… Actually, glared is probably the better word. “I can’t believe I’m the rational one in this room right now. That literally never happens.”

I winced. “You’re right, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” she said, “This isn’t actually about me. You both think it is, but it’s really not.”

“Kate,” Faith whined.

“What does that mean?” I asked. Oh no. Oh no no no.

“It means-”

“Don’t!” Faith snapped again. “It is not your place to tell him that!”

“Tell me what?!” I shouted. Please, say it ain’t so.

Kate breathed in through her nose slowly, then out through her mouth with equal speed and purpose. “Tell you guys what- I’m gonna run to the gas station on the corner, get us all some sodas. And while I’m gone, you two can hash this out.”

“Please don’t,” Faith said.

“Watanabe, seriously, it’s time to face the truth,” Kate said. “It really will set you free.”

She turned on her heel and left before either Faith or I could stop her.

Leaving the two of us there with nothing but the proverbial elephant in the room. Dread gnawed at my stomach lining like mud wasps digging into my flesh. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. There was no way.

But it would explain… Well, a lot of stuff, honestly.

I took off my work gloves and heaved a sigh. “So…”

“So?”

“So.”

“Yeah,” Faith said.

“Yeah what?”

“I…”

I closed my eyes. “Faith. We have the fight of our lives coming up on Friday, and we need to be a functional team when that happens. If you’re just stressed about that, then that’s fine, I’ll accept it. But I need you to talk to me.”

“I… Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both?”

“Faith.” There was no other explanation. Nothing else made sense. But if she didn’t say it… It would keep eating away at her. But I still had no right to force her to say anything. “Maybe I should just go home, let you cool off.”

I started towards the exit, then felt a tug on the back of my shirt.

I turned my head, and saw her clinging to me, face scrunched up, tears falling out her eyes. “Wait.”

So I waited.

“I like you, Zeke,” Faith said, half a whisper and half a scream. “I like you a lot, and I have for a long time. Since… Before I was even living as the real me. You’ve always been there for me, propping me up when I just wanted to fall down, and… I can’t picture myself without you. I like you.”

My back went stiff, and I didn’t turn around. I… It just… Hearing that, from her, after all this time… It sent a hundred million different thoughts pinballing inside my brain simultaneously. The first one was an instinct, to turn around and kiss her, to sweep her off her feet and make violent love to her on the floor.

The next one, far louder, far angrier, was ‘I won’t be like Dad.’

“Why… Why did you wait so long?” I asked, still not facing her.

“I was scared,” she said, still not letting me go.

“Scared of what?”

“That you wouldn’t like me back. That I’d ruin things between us. That you’d reject me like Olivia did and then I’d… Then I’d be all alone.”

The words screamed inside my mind: I could never reject you. I could never let you be all alone. They were followed by the words, You only ruined things by waiting until now to tell me.

I gulped as I thought that, disgust coagulating inside my core. What is wrong with me- she’s pouring her heart out to me, and I need to say something. Anything.

“Do you hate me?” Faith asked.

“I could never hate you,” I said, and it was the truth. “You’re my best freaking friend.”

“And that’s all?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I said. “I’m with Kate- you know I’m-”

“I know. And she’s… She’s a gem. I was wrong about her. The fact that she’s okay with me having this conversation alone with her boyfriend is… It says a lot, I think. Especially about how trusting she is.”

“I agree. So you can see why it’s important that neither of us betray that trust,” I said evenly. Finally, slowly, I turned around.

I regretted it immediately upon seeing the tears flooding out of her. Faith said, “You’re right. And I don’t wanna hurt her like…”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “Like?”

“Like Olivia did with me. I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt either of you, and I feel like the longer I stay here, the longer I do this, the more likely it will become that I do.”

I reached for her shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen.”

She pulled away, stepped out of my reach, and said, with the guiltiest voice I’d ever heard, “It already has. You don’t even know that you’re crying too, do you?”

“W-what?” I reached for my eyes and found the water leaking out.

“This was a mistake,” she said, taking a few more steps back. “I’m a damn coward and this was all a mistake. I- I’m sorry, Zeke. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you all this, and I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I know how much you don’t… Don’t wanna be like your dad. This isn’t fair to you. Or her. Or anyone.”

She started for the back exit, and I started after her. I reached for her.

She pivoted and swatted my hand away. “Don’t follow me. Please just… I need to be alone right now. Go to Kate, Zeke. Go be with your girlfriend. You deserve someone like her.”

She ran out, and left me there, too stunned to say anything or move. By the time I regained my senses and chased her out into the parking lot, she’d already gotten in our car and started driving away.

“Um… What just happened?” Kate said.

I jumped, turned around, and saw her walking up behind me with a can of soda in one hand and a plastic convenience store bag in t’other one.

She hugged me without asking- she didn’t need to anymore. And right then… I needed it. I just needed it. “I messed up.”

She held me close and tight, and we stood there a while under the harsh light of day.

#original fiction #serial fiction #trans woman #web novel #wlw #trans protagonist #action #comedy #romance novel #romance #romcom #romance author #indie author #bisexual protagonist #love triangle #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #polyamory #polycule

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