#i hope they can actually address it rather than just stop by classrooms for a tiny bit liek 'hey everyones all good right ye ok cool'

[raine-but-irl]

whilst im complaining ab. school and shit. I cannot WAIT until next year when the halls are even MORE monitored and rules are STRICTER just because some people CANNOT wait till the end of the school day, off school grounds, to fucking throw hands.

#LIKE 1st period thursday is fucking insane #mfs couldve waited till the end of the day but NOOOOO #one of them punched a sweet old lady teacher IN THE FUCKIHG EYE #i hate my school why is there always a fight around exam season what the fuck dude. #grroar !!!!! #i hope they can actually address it rather than just stop by classrooms for a tiny bit liek 'hey everyones all good right ye ok cool' #LIOKE #dude that shit was happening RIIIIGHT outside of my clasroom !!! #I WAS FUCKING HESRING IT ALLLLL GO DOWN !!!! #WHAT THE FUCK !!! #im still p shook tbh #my school needs 2 better communicate everything and that includes their obscure-ass policies and whatnot

[touyasdoll]

Dumb Luck

From anon: Hi, I've had a shitty few days with terrible luck and I hoping a request for you could make things better. Just a simple Shoto x reader story where the reader regards Shoto as her/their lucky charm, because he makes them feel less cursed and actually valuable. (I'm really venting here, but I hope this gets your inspiration flowing, it doesn't have to be very long.)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to, but I hope you enjoy and I hope things are going well for you, anon 🖤

———————————

“All right, class, we have a new student. I trust that you will all make her feel welcome.”

Your new home room teacher was addressing the entirety of Class 1A, but he kept his intimidating gaze squarely fixed on a shorter looking boy with purple balls atop his head, who was clearly squirming under Aizawa’s stare.

Making a mental note to avoid whoever that boy was, you scanned the room to peer out at the faces of your new classmates. They all looked nice, save for one blonde boy who’s face seemed to be permanently transfixed in a scowl.

Maybe you should avoid him too? And that’s when you saw the most handsome face you had ever laid eyes on for the very first time. His hair was two-toned, red and white. His eyes were also heterochromatic and one was framed with a large scar, but both seemed to gleam as he offered a gentle smile toward you.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself and then feel free to take your seat at the back of the class next to Todoroki."

That’s when you noticed the empty seat next to him. You cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.

"Hi, my name is Y/n. I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

You smiled as you took in some more of your new classmates faces, feeling reassured by the bright smile on the face of a green haired boy who just might have been an actual cinnamon roll in disguise.

"What's your quirk?"

Your attention was called to a girl with horns and pink skin, who also offered a reaffirming smile in your direction.

"Oh, uhm, I have a telekinesis quirk."

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you shifted on your feet as you were about to take a step toward your assigned seat when another male student with bright red hair called out.

"What? That's so manly! I mean--not that you're--that's not what i meant, you're really pretty actually I--," he scratched at the back of his neck, his face flushing the same shade as his crimson hair. "I mean can we see your quirk? If that's okay with you?"

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat at his desk, shaking his head at the awkward exchange that he would rather just not acknowledge.

You laughed it off and blushed in response to the red head's compliment.

"Uh, yeah, if that's okay?"

Looking over at your teacher, he exhaled and nodded, his stoic expression returning to his persistently tired features.

"Oh, and uh pick a number between 1 and 10,000"

Setting your bag down, you nodded toward the boy and watched him bare his sharp teeth as he momentarily paused to think and then nodded in response to your request.

"Okay, I got it."

Maintaining eye contact with him, you focused on his thoughts while activating your quirk to lift his backpack off of his seat, guiding it toward the front of the room with your hands, before returning it to it's rightful place.

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

He grinned in awe as he watched his backpack settle behind him once again.

"Y/n?" The green haired boy had his hand up, looking perplexed, but also so polite as he waited for your attention. "Why did you have him pick a number?"

You smiled as you physically picked up your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"Oh, because there's kinda two parts to my quirk, but actually, could you pick a number? I don't know if I wanna repeat the one he picked."

You watched the red head blush as he shrunk back in his desk, before glancing back at Todoroki, who eyes were still intent on your frame.

"You can tell Todoroki for confirmation, so you know I'm not faking."

He perked up a bit at the sound of you saying his name, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy smile before he leaned over, so that the boy could whisper his number in his ear.

"Got it?"

You smiled at Todoroki, his small smile making your stomach do flips before you found the will to look away from him and back and the other boy.

After a moment of concentration, you announced your guess.

"4,389. Right?"

His green eyes went wide and an excited smile broke across his freckled cheeks.

"Whoa, are you psychic? Telekinesis AND telepathy? That's so awesome! Oh my gosh, can I ask you some questions after class, so I can write some not--

You nodded, blushing a bit at his enthusiasm. You've always enjoyed your quirk, but no one had ever reacted quite as energetically to it and the rest of the class seemed almost as amazed as him.

"Wait, what was Kirishima's number?"

The perpetually angry looking blonde boy's face twisted in curiosity as you moved to take your seat.

"It was uh, six thousand, nine hundred sixty-nine. Right?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your quickly scurried toward your desk, not missing the deep shade of red Kirishima had turned before the blonde boy smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

"Is there some significance to that number?"

Todoroki's gaze followed you as you took your seat beside him, ignoring the laughter that had erupted throughout the classroom, much to Aizawa's chagrin.

"Oh, uh, yeah it's uh--I don't quite know how to explain it though. Uhm," fidgeting in your seat, you slung your bag over your chair before turning somewhat sideways, angling yourself in your seat to face him, keeping your voice low. "Do you not know why the number 69 is significant?"

His expression seemed to only grow more puzzled as he cocked his head further to one side.

"No. I can understand why 6,969 would be significant, seeing as it's 69 repeated, but I don't see why that number i--"

A boy with yellow hair, striped in the front with a bit of black leaned over, interrupting Todoroki's query.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a bit wider and he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Okay. I can see why that would be funny.”

His smile was small and somewhat reserved, but it was adorable and the sight of it made you giggle.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't wanna go with his number. Didn't want anyone to think that I was a perv or playing a gross joke or something. I'm not trying to start off on the wrong foot here."

He cocked his head slightly to the side again, turning somewhat in his desk the way you had to better face you.

"Well, I think you have made a good first impression. I like you."

Your cheeks may as well have gone up in flames, you could tell they were beet red.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Todoroki."

Clearing your throat again, you hoped the excess color would drain from your cheeks in the time you took to stare at the floor beneath your desk.

"You can call me Shoto."

His hand awkwardly extended toward you after a brief pause, flashing in front of the view you had of your feet beneath your desk.

You reached out and shook it carefully, feeling an icy coolness in your palms that you were grateful for as you felt your hands clam up.

"It's really nice to meet you, Shoto. You're uhm, you're so much nicer than anyone I ever interacted with at my last school, so uh, thank you for that."

His brow furrowed in confusion as you both retracted your hands.

"What do you mean? They weren't nice to you? Why?"

You shrugged shifting your weight to rest your elbow on the desk, accidentally knocking your unprotected cell phone straight off the desk, which mercifully landed on top of Shoto's bag, which had fallen to the floor, no doubt saving your phone from what would have been a thoroughly cracked screen.

"Oh--! Oh, wow, I thought that was going to end up broken for sure. That would have been my just my luck."

"Maybe your luck is changing. I hope your experience here at UA is different than it was at your previous school. I'll do my best to make your time here more positive."

His smile was somewhat sheepish, but genuine and for the first time in a long time, you felt comfortable around your peers. Maybe transferring schools was a good idea after all.

//Two Weeks Later//

"Dang it!" You huffed as your hurriedly threw your books into your backpack, scrambling to get up from the desk in the library.

Shoto calmly looked up at you in your frenzied state and stood, beginning to pack up his things as well.

"Where are we going?"

Throwing your bag over your shoulders, you nabbed the last of your books off the desk and made a move to start toward the door, but stopped when you realized Shoto was getting up to follow you.

"I completely lost track of time. I have to catch the last bus to go and pick something up downtown and I think I'm about to miss it."

He nodded and stepped toward you, following you out the library doors.

"Sometimes the buses run a little late. Maybe if you're lucky, it won't have come yet."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

"Yeah, sure. Look, I will give you fair warning now; I'm one of the unluckiest people in the planet. The odds are super slim of even something small going wrong? My luck dictates that absolutely EVERYTHING will go wrong. At this point, I'm nearly convinced that a witch cursed me as a baby or something."

He shrugged, coming to a halt at the curb as a bus slowly began to pull up.

"I told you."

Your mouth gaped slightly as you shook your head.

"Okay, wow, well I'm glad you were right about the buses running late."

"I meant about what I said about your luck changing. I hope you've been having a better time here than at your last school. You deserve to, Y/n."

He stepped back and gestured for you to enter the bus ahead of him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, uhm, I--uh, I hope so."

You climbed up the steps and nearly tripped up the small flight of stairs, but his strong hands steadied your hips from behind before anyone could notice your falter, keeping you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a nearly packed bus.

"Thank you, Shoto."

You scurried toward the first set of open seats that you could find, letting your hair dangle in your face to try and conceal the heat on your face.

"Sorry, I, uh--," Shoto took a seat beside you, actively trying not to let his muscular thigh brush against yours, which was virtually impossible on a crowded bus, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the way I touched you, I--I just didn't--didn't want you to fall or anything."

Feeling a bit more brave in sensing how nervous he was over the interaction, you relaxed and let the arm and leg that were already pressed up against him in the tight quarters press against him a little more intentionally.

"It's okay, I appreciate you not letting me make an absolute fool of myself. Seems like you're always around to help me in that regard."

Giggling, you began searching for the nerve to look up and make eye contact with him.

Hearing him mumble something, you decided to dig deep and look up at him with a curious smile.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

His left side was giving off more heat than usual as you noticed he was blushing too, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his right hand.

"Dumb luck, I guess. That I'm always around when you need it. I'm glad I can be, I hope I can, uh, continue to be. If you, i-if you would let me be around you more often lik--"

He was rambling, clearly nervous, and it was an adorable sight to see. Further emboldened by his demeanor, you shifted your weight to lean against him, brushing the back of his hand with yours.

"Are you trying to ask me out, Shoto?"

His expression went blank as he nodded, save for the adorable flush on his cheeks.

"I am. Did I do it right? Or---wait, did you read my mind?"

You shook your head as your giggled, knitting your fingers together with his.

"No, I didn't need to."

He smiled, shifting his weight to lean against you as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"How did you know then?"

You shrugged playfully before resting your head against his shoulder.

"Dumb luck."

#shoto #shoto fluff #shoto x reader #shoto imagine #shoto torodoki #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha fluff #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha todoroki #mha imagines #todoroki imagine #todoroki x reader #todoroki #my hero #my hero x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 23:

ραяк נιѕυиg

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @whathamelon @unknown5tar @curieouscapt @silent-potato @ajhdr @mrcarbonatedmilk @gjheaaa

warnings: this isn’t as good as I wanted it to be :( but hope you enjoy.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to ask her out in person? She’s your friend, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“No, just tell me where her bag is.”

“The black backpack at the last row, now hurry before she comes back.” The perks of having your best friend as your crush’s classmate. “She’s here!”

Jisung casually slipped the letter inside the front pocket of your bag, rushing back to Chenle’s side once he was done.

“Oh, hey Ji!” Your hand held a bag full of treats, your lunch he guessed. “Do you want a cookie? I bought a lot since they were only half a dollar.”

“S-sure, thanks.” Chenle snickered at his friend’s antics, he looked like a total idiot brushing like that.

“Why don’t you come with us to the cafeteria? The teacher won’t be back for another hour.”

“Nah, I rather stay here and do some homework while I eat.” Jisung was practically melting at the sight of your sweet smile. “See you, Jisung.”

While eating up his bowl of rice, Jisung’s mind kept drifting away to you. Had you read the letter yet? Should he pay you another visit or wait until you contact him?

“I think this is the hardest you’ve ever thought ever since we left high school.” Chenle used his spoon to hit his forehead. “It’s gonna be alright, dude, it’s obvious she likes you back.”

“You don’t know that, Lele. She’s just friendly with everyone.” The oldest rolled his eyes at him, proceeding to shove a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Not even fifteen minutes later, they were back at the classroom, which was more crowded than when they left.

You were still stuffing your cheeks with chocolate chip cookies, looking absolutely adorable with the small crumbs on your chin and lips. As Jisung approached your seat, ready to demand for an answer to his confession, someone came in his way.

“Hey, Renjun.” His eyes were still fixated on you, excitement flowing through his veins. “Listen, I-”

“I’m sorry, Jisung, but I can’t accept your confession. I hope we can still be friends.” The letter he’d left inside your bag was being held delicately between his slim fingers.

“How did you get this?” The sudden change in the calm atmosphere had caught your attention, your smile dropping the slightest. “Never mind, just-”

“Look, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I would’ve totally said yes if it weren’t for my boyfriend. And I love that you think I carry the sunshine-”

He walked out of the classroom, embarrassment filling every inch of his body. Now you must think he’s gay AND pathetic. Meanwhile, back in the classroom, Chenle tried to explain the situation to the best of his abilities.

“He’s not gay, Renjun!”

“Dude, we’re on the twenty first century, stop being so narrow-minded.”

“I am not narrow-minded and Jisung is not gay.”

Sneakily, you made your way to Jisung, who happened to be sitting against a wall, head buried between his knees.

“Ji?” He didn’t even bother to raise his head, too embarrassed to look at you in the eye. “What happened back there, huh?”

“Stupid Chenle gave me the wrong information.” You gave him a quizzical look, that he obviously couldn’t see, before sitting beside him, your lemon scent instantly comforting him

Chenle could’ve sworn that was your backpack, and in fact, it actually was- well, it wasn’t yours but it had the same design.

“Who was that letter for, Jisung?” Deep down, you hoped it would be your name that left his lips. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“It’s just that- agh! It’s so embarrassing to say it out loud.” He’d written that letter for a reason. He wasn’t particularly virtuous with words, at least not when it came to talking face to face.

Maybe if he kept his head low it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Y/n.” He repeated once again, hoping you would take the hint and he wouldn’t have to directly say it.

“Yes, Jisung?” He groaned in frustration.

“It’s you, for Christ’s sake! I wrote the letter for you!”

“Oh.” It felt as if someone had just punched you in the guts, but in a good way. “So then you don’t have feelings for Renjun?” Once again, he groaned. “Sorry, just confirming.”

An awkward moment of silence installed between you, your hands fidgeting with the rings adorning them before you decided to speak.

“So there’s this really cool Thai restaurant a few blocks from here, we could...Uhm...go together sometime?”

“Yeah, tomorrow night?”

“Sure, I’ll text you the address.” Your sneakers tapped slightly the floor before getting up, extending your hand towards Jisung. “Let’s go back, I’ve got some cookies left we can share before the professor comes back.”

And let’s say that from that moment on, Jisung never let go of your hand again.

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream #nct jisung #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios

[nytech]

Teaching Entrepreneurship with Shaun Johnson

This interview is part of our “Getting to Know You” series, featuring brilliant entrepreneurs from the NY Tech community.

Shaun Johnson is an experienced entrepreneur who has worked across the fields of technology acceleration, early-stage investment, and ecosystem development. He lives in New York City and teaches entrepreneurship at Fordham University & Parsons School of Design. Shaun is also a Board Member of the NY Tech Alliance. He agreed to speak with us about his career journey, the lessons learned along the way, his take on diversity in tech, and what makes a successful entrepreneur.

“One piece of advice I’ve been given and still sticks with me in a perplexing way would be to say that perception equals reality. Even though this isn’t always a universal truth, I often wonder if it’s true, untrue, or sometimes true — as there are times one can influence the other, and other times, not at all.”

Tell us about yourself

I like to describe myself as a helper of people, and that has taken a lot of different shapes and forms. I actually started my career in the federal government, then as a management consultant, and finally transitioned into the world startups as an early employee at Techstars, where I ended up spinning out a company called Startup Institute — a career accelerator aiming to equip people with the network skills and mindset to be immediately impactful in the startups that they join.

You teach entrepreneurship ー according to you, what are the skills one must develop to become a successful entrepreneur?

In teaching entrepreneurship, there are a lot of things that are important, especially at the university level because there’s always this tension between “can entrepreneurship be taught?” or “should you just go out and do it?”

The mentality of doing and learning through action is definitely a skill worth acquiring, whether in the field or the classroom.

There will always be a lot of little failures along the way, and that’s actually a good thing, but it can be counterintuitive for folks who aren’t used to accepting failure on their way to success. Grit is also another important factor. And then the last one, just because I want to leave it at three, is empathy. To have a deep understanding of your customer, the mission that you have, and the people that you’re building around helps you to build exceptional teams, exceptional products, and ultimately, address your market in an exceptional way.

What’s your favorite thing about teaching entrepreneurship?

The people. Students are always so different. People come from multiple backgrounds, different parts of the world, different industries, and with different perspectives. Even if you are teaching one specific course on entrepreneurship, it’ll never look the same because it’s always dependent on the people who are there. Everyone brings their unique personality, and the diversity and plurality come together to create a unique experience.

My desire and appreciation for plurality reflect my sentiments about New York City itself. The city is made of 8 million people coming from different backgrounds and places, who all have unique personalities, desires, hopes, and dreams.

We all have to interact with each other and try to build a better future. Whether it’s through entrepreneurship or just our own coexistence, I think that there’s something productive and meaningful about that.

How do you think the tech industry can become more diverse?

I think one of the challenges is that we tend to take one shade or one arc of diversity, drill in on that and assume that we’ve done our job. For example, one aspect of diversity can be ensuring your company hires people of color, or getting women into the tech ecosystem and make sure that there’s equal pay and that gender rights are respected.

But can you actually look at this kaleidoscope and not just say, ‘Hey today we want to focus on, like, LGBTQ rights?’ Or ‘today we want to focus on Black people or women.’ But instead, the dialogue has to answer the question of: “How can we actually approach inclusion and value creation that is accessible to all?”

Rather than trying to identify a specific group on its own, let’s actually think about how we can lift everyone up together while also valuing their uniqueness.

Is this part of the reason or the reason why you wanted to become involved with the NY Tech Alliance?

I’ve been a huge fan of the NY Tech Alliance since my career in startups has begun. Before I was living in New York City, I would take a bus from out of state to attend NY Tech Meetups, to see that the energy in the room with so many different people there.

It just felt like a panorama of what the startup ecosystem has to offer. It was a great entry point for me. And the NYTA still serves in that capacity for others and provides a jumping-off point, an entry point, and a point of connection, learning and motivation for people.

When given the opportunity to serve on the board, it was something that I couldn’t pass up.

Which trends do you think will emerge in the tech industry in the near future?

You know, I never pretended to be a fortune teller, but I think the year we just survived showed us that despite quarantine and isolation, we still need to connect with each other and be productive. It has been great for Zoom but so many people are zoomed out and looking for different ways of connecting with people that may not just be from the shoulders up.

You’re also seeing some trends around climate tech. The conversation is now rightly shifted from climate change to the climate crisis, and it is attracting a lot of bright minds and big dollars. And I think that’s great because it’s imperative for our survival as human beings.

How has a past failure set you up for success?

I mean, I guess I’m always failing at something. If you’re not failing, you’re probably not trying hard enough. I think the little failures along the way are indicative of trying to do something audacious or something that you’re unsure of. I couldn’t point to one specific failure because there’s just a butterfly effect of one thing leading to the next thing. But overall, the lesson in failure is really to process it and move on to the next thing, ideally in an upward fashion.

As New Yorkers, there may not always be the time or space to do that. You know, we move so fast. We break things, we execute, and there’s so much going on that we can forget to stop and reflect for a minute, look objectively at failure and ask “What could I have done better? What did I learn here? What would I do next?”

It’s important to reflect in a way that builds off of that failure rather than just repetitively coming right back at the same scenario, which is likely to lead to the same outcome.

What was the biggest challenge that you faced in your career?

Walking away from something that just wasn’t for me at the time. With an early career as a management consultant, a lot of things about that job were great: the prestige, the nice fancy suits, the travel.

But then you start to just understand what your calling is, what motivates you or what nourishes you. Changing your career to pursue your calling can be risky, but it ultimately is good for the soul. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what my calling was going to be. And it took courage and conviction to just say “Ok, all these things are good and everyone else loves them for me. But I just don’t love them as much, and I’m willing to look out into the abyss and seek out something that actually is more aligned with who I am and who I want to be.”

It was really scary and that’s one of the biggest moves I’ve made. That’s the advice I give to my students. Do what you love. Life’s too short!

What was the best advice you’ve ever been given?

One piece of advice I’ve been given and still sticks with me in a perplexing way would be to say that perception equals reality. Even though this isn’t always a universal truth, I often wonder if it’s true, untrue, or sometimes true — as there are times one can influence the other, and other times, not at all.

I apply that saying as a prompt for a lot of different things, from looking at analytics and wondering what’s going on with your company, checking in with your mental health and wondering if all of this anxiety or depression is actually real or if your perception influences what you’re feeling. And it’s also a way to keep yourself grounded.

Any final words?

Yeah. If Alicia (interviewer) says or types anything that makes me sound stupid, that was her edit. Everything that I said was brilliant (laugh). And she’ll make sure that it comes across!

To connect with Shaun on LinkedIn, click here.

To learn more valuable lessons from Founders, watch our NYTA Founder Spotlight series on YouTube.

#entrepreneurship #teaching #nytech #education #entrepreneur #startup lessons #nytechalliance

[lydias--stiles]

my sweet romantic teenage nights

juke | high school + diner au | title: scenes from an italian restaurant // billy joel

Magenta’s Palace was an artefact from the glorious American Dream; a fluorescent gem wrapped in that 60s architecture and old-fashioned uniforms. It was also the hang-out spot of most LF Arts students, right in the heart of Los Feliz and on most kids’ path.  

Luke used to roll his eyes at the place, thinking it was corny and certainly not the place a punk-rocker like him would go… until he tasted their gnarly waffles. And burgers. And milkshakes. His love for good food trumped his desire for street cred and ended up like the rest of his peers: a regular at MP.

Alex and Reggie never had qualms with it. The former was rather happy Luke got over himself and Reggie was simply pleased to spend more time with his friends. It became tradition to eat there every Friday after school. Sometimes they stayed until the early hours of the night talking, sometimes it was to fuel up before a gig.

Settling in their booth (theirs - Luke has made sure to carve the underside of the table with their names), Luke sighed contently. “Boys, this gig is gonna be fire.”

“I still don’t know how you convinced the guys at Raven’s Nest,” Alex mused, glancing around for a waitress in a candycane-coloured uniform.

Reggie nodded gravely. “Yeah, they’re scary.”

“Used my charm,” he smirked. “Dialled it up like I always do.”

The blonde snorted. “Sure.”

Luke’s face crashed. “Fine. I used our fake’s when he didn’t believe we were eighteen.”

His friends grinned, Alex snapping his fingers. “There it is.”

The chipper Nora glided towards them, slaloming between tables with her notebook. Alex’ remark didn’t bother him, crossing his arms with a shrug. “Does it matter? I got us in. They’re gonna love us. Nay! They’re gonna eat this set up!”

“You better be right - hi, Nora - cause it’s a bar for bikers. Real ass bikers,” Alex replied, shooting Nora a smile.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted, her signature red hair tied in a messy bun. Reg used to have a crush on her when they first visited, until they realised she was twenty-three and in a committed relationship with a guy from USC studying medicine. Yeah, he had no shot. Luke had to console him by buying five chocolate shakes and blasting Elvis Presley in the car.

Despite this, Reggie still had a soft spot for her, smiling kindly at the waitress. “Our usual, please.”

The notebook got tucked in her apron with a bright nod. “Coming right up!”

As Nora swiftly returned behind the glossy bartop, parlaying the order to the kitchen, the entrance opened. The bell above chimed, three girls appearing beneath it.

Oh, shit.

When Luke enrolled into LF Arts as a green fourteen year old, he had planned to only focus on music and nothing else. He’d blaze through his classes and become the best in music and then, with his obsessive nature at a peak, would launch the band into the next stratosphere. That was the plan. Music, music, music. (And food from Magenta’s.)

Fourteen year old Luke wasn’t aware girls like Julie Molina existed though. That changed on the first day. She came to the front of the class, blew everyone away with a Taylor Swift cover and shot a toothy smile when she finished - like it was nothing. Like she didn’t have the voice of the century. (Like she wouldn’t mess with Luke’s plans of becoming the best, damn it!) Though his initial reaction was envy, he quickly realised it was rather a disgruntled crush than actual dismay.

She was cute. Still cute. After every summer break, he expected her to be less pretty so that his nerves could calm down for once. Nope. Julie Molina was pretty as hell.

He has never seen her here on Friday’s. Why now? Why now when they were mentally preparing themselves for a gig that could get them their asses kicked if they didn’t perform well? Luke needed to focus! Not think about where she’d sit and what she’d talk about and what she was going to eat.

His eyes tracked as Julie, Flynn and Kayla were in busy conversation, barely aware of their surroundings. Her head rolled back in a laugh at something Flynn said, eyes shut in glee. Luke flushed red, averting his gaze to the scratched up table. His friends were snickering, Alex muttering a ‘Jesus…’ under his breath.

Luke snapped his arm. “Stop being a dick.”

“Why don’t you just ask her out?”, Reggie pondered, absentmindedly making origami with the thin napkins.

“I think he needs to talk to her first to do that,” Alex teased before Luke could respond, earning another glare.

It wasn’t like he and Julie never spoke. They were seniors, they had multiple classes together and spent many hours cooped in the same music classroom. He was even part of her group project in junior year! They’ve talked! But it never lead to anything, his lingering stares falling for her oblivious profile, her never once looking back at him.

The connection Luke always craved hasn’t been there, though he always felt like they could have that. Musical spirits were alike, right? At least his crush wasn’t as hopeless as Reggie’s on Nora.

The girls chose a booth right next to theirs, Julie in his direct line of sight. Alex was buzzing in his seat from stifled laughter, visibly trying to not turn his head and address them. The guitarist felt like dying, not even the steaming plates of burgers set in front of them enough to lift his mood.

Luke leaned forward, voice a hiss. “I can talk to her. I just… haven’t felt the need to.”

Reggie patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to lie to us.”

Frustration began simmering his skin, the scowl deepening. He wasn’t lying! Maybe a little! He’s been waiting for the right time to approach her, say and do the right thing to sweep her off her feet like the fucking rockstar he was. Had he been preparing his lines since he was fourteen? Also maybe. They were being revised.

Alex often told him he shouldn’t put Julie on a pedestal. That she was just a girl. It made him wonder if he was the only one that first day of high school that felt it. That awestruck whooping in his chest from seeing her curls dance around her almond eyes and hear how each lyric was laced with a passionate smile. Even at fourteen was he aware of how special that was. Julie wasn’t just a girl. She was the coolest girl he’s ever met and he didn’t even know her that well. He couldn’t imagine actually becoming friends with her, uncovering all facets of her personality and not get overwhelmed by her Julie-ness.

Huh. His crush went deeper than he thought. Yikes.

At the end of the day, Luke could admit that he was simply a teenage boy nervous to talk to a girl. ‘Nervous’ was like a curse word to him though, that admission a secret he’d take with him to the grave.

“Eh,” Alex quipped, egging him on. “Luke’s a terrible liar. He doesn’t have to tell us for us to know it’s true.”    

His hands slammed down on the table, words spouting from his lips. “Girls! Can we get your napkin dispenser?!”

Fucking fantastic, Luke.

All three perked up in surprise, Flynn twisting in her booth to curl her nose and tilt her head. “Why?”

“It’s empty,” he bluffed.

Kayla craned her neck and instantly caught Reggie’s handiwork scattered across the table. “No, it’s not.”

Julie sat next to her, blinking in confusion. “Why do you need our napkins?”

Her smooth voice directed right at him caused a thrill up his spine, a grin involuntarily tugging on his lips. “Cause Reggie needs them for his crafts.” Playing along, the bassist lifted a janky frog with a wink. “I’m very dedicated.”

She matched Luke’s smile, amused. It was the most interaction he has had with her in months, the utter euphoria of it all bursting at the seams. Propelled by her smile, he slid out the booth and into Alex’ side, throwing his arms over the seat right next to Flynn’s head. The girl remained deeply unimpressed by him, gaze flicking past his physique. Damn. If he ever wanted to get anywhere with Julie, he had to get in Flynn’s good grazes. Kayla seemed chill though.

“What’s with the frown, Felicity?”, he joked.

Kayla giggled at the mention of Flynn’s actual name, the girl in question rolling her eyes. “All I’m wondering is why you have to bother us about napkins, Lukas.”

“Flynn,” Julie shook her head with an exasperated grin, “maybe wait for your strawberry shake? I think you’re being hangry.”

Her friend loosened up, sinking back in her seat with a playful pout and mumbling a resigned ‘fine.’

Luke took that as his sign to continue. His gaze fell back on Julie, hoping he wouldn’t sound too eager. “You guys come here a lot? I haven’t seen you here on Friday’s.”

“Who’re you asking?”, Julie asked, looking between her and Kayla. Oh, man. Small talk really wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t charm himself out of this one with music jargon or fake IDs.

His smile turned stressed, flailing his hand around. “Uh, all of you.”

“Sure,” Flynn snorted.

Alex slapped a hand on his mouth at her retort, almost in pain of not laughing his ass off. The prize of ‘Worst Friends Ever’ went to Luke’s - for fuck’s sake, couldn’t the drummer at least try and help him out?!

“Just wanted to celebrate Kayla’s good mark on her new song,” Julie continued, wilfully ignoring the other’s behaviour. Slinging an arm around her friend, she shot her a bright smile. “Her bridge was amazing, right?”  

All three boys nodded fervently as Kayla ducked her head bashfully, murmuring a ‘thank you’ and then relieved from all the attention when Nora walked up to them. Luke’s body didn’t twist to sit normally again, too invested in finally speaking to them, finally having that contact, that he didn’t even care if he seemed like a weirdo. Julie and him! Conversing!

“Speaking of music,” he casually uttered when Nora was off again. His signature smirk crawled on his lips. “We’re playing a gig tonight.”

This peaked Flynn’s interest. Perhaps the prospect of food made her more amicable. “Where?”

“Raven’s Nest,” Reggie proudly proclaimed.

Kayla frowned, worried. “Isn’t that the bar with all the bikes outside?”

“Thank you!”, Alex exclaimed with a sigh. “It’s insane!”

“It’s not,” Luke bit back. If Sunset Curve wanted to make it big, they had to play big! Gigs like these would get them on the stages they dreamed of. Soon, it was goodbye, Raven’s Nest and hello, The Orpheum! “Real Californians go there to hear real fucking music.”

To his surprise, Julie hummed in agreement. “My dad says it used to be where the subculture kids hung out before MP got cool.”

“Yes!” His grin was huge now, overflowing with joy. This was enough adrenaline to get him through three gigs at once! His finger pressed into the cracked leather. “Exactly! And we’re gonna slay it. You should come watch!”

The latter blurted out without wanting to, his eyes growing wide in panic as Reggie and Alex stilled in their seats and Flynn peered up at him with laser-focus. Shit. Was he telling on himself? Did she pierce through the charisma that this was just a poor attempt at flirting? God, he really should’ve prepared his speech for impulsive moments like these.

Luke still needed to endure some growing pains before he got good at flirting.

Julie chuckled, a hint of red appearing on her cheekbones. It enthralled him. Was she embarrassed or flattered? “Uh,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know if I can get in. Don’t you have to be eighteen?”

He raised his brow. “C’mon, you don’t have a fake?” At those words, Alex dropped his head on the table with a thud. Luke had enough of his own shit too. ‘Mortified’ didn’t even come close to how he felt about his blabbering mouth.  

Levelling his challenged look, however, he realised he wasn’t lost quite yet. Julie’s eyes glittered with mischief. “I do, actually.”

Breath caught in his throat. Yup. Coolest fucking girl in the universe. Julie Molina had a killer voice and a fake ID and probably did a whole lot of other dope stuff he hadn’t found out yet.

“Julie,” Flynn but in. “It’s a biker bar.”

“Where our classmates are playing,” she argued. “I can always try.”

“You’ll die.”

“I think I’ll be fine. Like Luke said-” No. She could not say his name and expect him to keep his cool. His fingers gripped the conjoined couch tighter. “-everyone’s there for the music.”

A careful smile slowly grew on Kayla. “We can tell your dad you’re with us.”

Flynn gaped at her. “We-?! I- okay.” Lifting her hands in surrender, she added: “Fine, we’ll tell Ray you’re at the movies with us.”

Wait, was Julie turning down a movie night with her friends to see him play? Did that mean something? Has he been so focused on trying to find or create a ‘vibe’ that he forgot to actually look for signs of her own? Damn. Now he really couldn’t screw this set up. Sunset Curve was gonna play until their hands bled, hopefully impressing her just a little bit.

It was settled then. After both groups had eaten, Julie separated from hers and joined them on their trek to Raven’s Nest. She was mostly talking to Reggie behind Alex and Luke, animatedly recounting a story about Carlos nearly crashing his drone in her keyboard. Jitters began to tingle his skin, that building excitement right before a gig mixing with Julie’s presence. It felt like one of his dreams materialised out of thin air.

How many times has he dreamt about catching her eye in the crowd as he crooned love songs he never dared to write? Granted, those dreams were centered in a hazier setting, Raven’s Nest quite unromantic opposed to that, but he would take what he got.

(And after, they’d worm their way through the masses of people, meeting halfway, and she’d sling her arms around his neck and he’d pull her into a kiss and it’d be electric. She’d kiss like she sang. It was a recurring dream that left him in a good mood for hours.)

Without much hesitance, the bouncer let Julie in. Luke, unable to keep his giddiness at bay, squeezed her shoulder as a dazzling beam was glued to his cheeks. Julie got in! Julie was going to see him play!

Raven’s Nest was expectedly filled with bearded, burly men. It reeked of beer and strong liquor, raucous chatter spilling from ever corner. They all probably looked like babies in comparison to these dudes, but he supposed his unfaltering confidence made up for it. Luke would get his boys (and Julie) through this. The stage was already prepared for them, amps and mics set up, Alex’ drums waiting in Reggie’s van behind the establishment.

“I’ve seen you play before, you know,” Julie mumbled beside him.

His heart soared without trying, its rate going a mile a minute as his jaw fell slack. All his nerves intensified till a blush crept on his cheeks. “You- you have?”

Her curious eyes flitted from the people to him, sheepish. “Yeah. At Ecliptica. You guys were good.”

A clammy hand raked the ends of his hair. Holy fucking shit. “You sounded like you never heard us before.”

“I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl, or something.” A secretive smile formed on her lips as she leaned into his side. “You know how school is. Everyone trying to be the best, but then act super casual about it?” Her eyes sparked in the yellow lighting, too close for him to think straight. “I didn’t want it to inflate you guys’ egos.”

Luke sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re doing it right now, Julie.”

“Then you better kill it,” she teased, nodding at Alex and Reggie hauling the drums onstage from the back door. “I think that’s your cue.”

There were two things he thought of right as he ascended the stage.

One, Julie was fat better at this whole back and forth than he was.

Two, he had to direct at least one song to her from their thirty minute set. Just one. Just so that his feelings might come across. Where words ended, music bled from his soul instead.

And so, the band exploded into what they knew best: burning the fucking house down.

So we’re taking the long way home 'Cause I don’t wanna be wasting my time alone I wanna get lost and drive forever with you Talking 'bout nothing, yeah, whatever, baby So we’re taking the long way home tonight We're taking the long way home

The giggly teenagers ended back in the diner after the incredible gig, shouting from the adrenaline and jostling arms to get points across. Even Julie joined in, much to his delight, tucked between him and the wall as she had a heated debate with an excited Reggie - harmonies versus basslines. Lemonades filled in condensed glasses gave them sticky fingers, hers once pushing his chin away when he told a particularly dumb joke and leaving an imprint. Luke was on fucking cloud nine.    

Taking the upper hand in the debate, Julie sang a bit of one of their songs (“Let's seize the day, let's run away, don't let the colours fade to grey!”) with all the tricks in the book, silencing Reggie just like that. Alex high fived Julie, the bassist admitting she won this time. Deeply relishing the sound of her singing voice, Luke barely caught what she was saying after.

“This time?”, she laughed. “There’s another time?”

“Why not?” Reggie wiggled his brows, unsubtle as hell when he shot Luke a wink. “Diner Friendship Memories Still To Be Made!”

Alex blinked. “What?”

Her eyes tracked past the boys, the smile turning more timid. It settled on Luke, the boy unable and unwilling to look away. He wanted this night to never end. Clasping her lemonade, she nodded firmly, as if signing Reggie’s silly Friendship Contract.

“Yeah… why not.”

Magenta’s Palace became Luke favourite place in the entire world. Every Friday, Julie joined the boys at their booth, sometimes Kayla and Flynn too. Huddled in those red leather seats with mountains of fries, they shared the first slivers of newfound friendship. Luke has always been very cautious about who he let in his circle (Sunset Curve against The World), but six people in a booth felt cosy rather than suffocating. Like it was always to be like this.

Reggie found an equally enthusiastic jazz lover in Kayla. Alex confided with Flynn that he followed her playlists on Spotify and was obsessed with her DJ skills.  

Luke and Julie created their own bubble without trying to.

It was weird. Maybe Alex was right and Luke did put her on a pedestal for so long. Julie was genuinely chill and easy to talk to, probably turned off by him before cause he had been acting like a blubbering idiot. Simply being himself was, surprisingly, more than enough for her. It lit a fire inside of him. Snarky banter about music that challenged him to keep up, overt flirting from him that kept her blushing, sudden ideas about lyrics that threw either for a loop. He wouldn’t admit it at first, but she made him a better songwriter.

Who knew his best songs would be found on stained paper napkins?  

One Friday night, long past midnight, the group stood outside as they bid each other a good weekend. Bathed in the pink glow of the LED lights, Luke felt it in his gut. He had to tell her. These past weeks his feelings had only grown tenfold, this incessant buzz rippling every atom of his body whenever she was close. Whenever she smiled, talked, sang. Stealing his beanie, eating his fries, sharing AirPods. Luke loved it all.  

It was a lot more than a simple crush.  

After Julie hugged Alex, Luke grabbed her into a tight hug. She instantly responded, wrapping her arms around his waist and burrowing herself in his red hoodie. His infatuated smile was hidden by her curls, so fucking happy he’d been impulsive enough to ask for a dispenser that day.

“Hey, Julie,” he whispered.

She looked up, eyes alight with an emotion that left his shivering. “Yeah?”

“Uh…” A smile trembled on his lips, unsure whether he wanted to drown in the pretty brown of her irises or continue talking. Now or never. “You wanna get breakfast tomorrow? With me?”

He didn’t have to live in the fear for long, a smile stretching across her cheeks as she shyly nodded. It was the first time he’d ever seen her this flustered, their hold on each other securing with quiet glee. Had he not been so mesmerised, the awestruck Luke would run a mile from the adrenaline rush.  

“Yeah,” she grinned, nose scrunched. “Sounds fun.”

They found themselves in the same spot the next day, the taste of syrupy pancakes melting with his as he kissed her on the parking lot of Magenta’s Palace. Julie’s lips curled into a smile and Luke figured there was no better feeling in the world then that.

(Yeah, he could get used to this.)

Saturday’s mornings had never been sweeter.  

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @ourstarscollided

#juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

[watevermelon]

Cheater!Akaashi x Reader

✧ Summary: (Continuation) Akaashi is still in love with you and begs for your forgiveness.

➳ A/N: It surprised me how many people wanted a part 2 to Akaashi’s initial cheating imagine, but here we are!!  Ask and you shall receive. People want good things for the reader and I agree -- that’s too bad this is what we got instead LMAO ➳  Masterlist ➳  Part One 

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You could’ve gone the rest of your high school career without ever having to hear the word volleyball ever again. The only interest you had in it was from your ex-boyfriend and now any reminder just left a bitter pang in the pit of your stomach. 

Thankfully, Akaashi was not in your class and there actually were not any volleyball players in your homeroom. But that didn’t stop them from popping up in your peripherals or in some rumours around school. 

Some of the members of the volleyball team would shoot looks at you, whether out of pity or curiosity, you couldn't care less. You fostered your own relationships with the athletes individually - whether it was Haruki’s strange brand of humor, Sarukui’s constant references to memes, or Wataru’s lopsided smiles - you knew them. 

You shared, or rather suffered together, in a class with Konoha the year before. A bright first year with no friends yet, Konoha was a nice person and the first one of the entire volleyball team to actually speak to you. He was even the one to introduce you to both Akaashi and Bokuto.

Out of the bunch, Konoha was often a tag-along when it came to hangouts. Whether it was to the arcade or the movie theatres, you and your (ex)boyfriend were quick to include the others. And usually Bokuto and Konoha would come along as well. Looking back, now you felt like an idiot, Konoha was one thing, but Bokuto was always there.

Nonetheless, as a member of the volleyball team, you knew Konoha was close to Akaashi. And there was no doubt which side he would be taking, no matter the moral high-ground. 

There was too much history there and there would be no attempt on your part to salvage the friendships you had with the volleyball team. 

There was no doubt of the curiosity in everyone’s minds the moment you and Akaashi were broken-up and there was a new person he was holding hands with. It went from general confusion to malicious rumours. Akaashi was the silent boy next door, the person everyone thought to be the perfect boyfriend without a bad bone in his body.

Some said that he broke up with you because you were too mean, too boring, or he simply lost interest in your boring lifestyle.

If only other people knew what he had done to you and Bokuto.

You didn’t believe this was the hill you wanted to die on. And so you ignored the carefully whispers that followed you in the hallways. Your best friends urged you to clear your name - you were the wronged party so why must you be the one to continue suffering? But this was not something you wanted to bring up again, not something you wanted to think about and relive after how painful it was the first time.

But it seemed the volleyball Gods really hated you.

Konoha approached you one day, after class had just ended but before extracurricular clubs were about to start.

“Hi.” He stood beside your locker as you organized your things, “Can we talk?”

You nodded wordlessly, packing up your bookbag and following him out the door. He guided you toward the outside fountain by the athletic building, not many students passing by as they rushed home through the main entrance. A part of you worried that some of the other volleyball members would pass by as you sat there together, but then you realized that it was no longer your problem.

You were seated on the edge, silently watching his pensive expression before he finally turned to you.

“I feel like I owe you an apology.” He started.

“What, why?”

“I could’ve told you a year ago that something strange was happening between Akaashi and Bokuto.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say.

He shook his head and turned away, “There was something there even before you two were dating. And so even when Akaashi asked you out, I bet you were surprised?’

You frowned, but agreed quietly with a nod of your head.

“We barely knew each other at the time.”

Konoha scoffed, you were unsure why exactly, but he continued, “Out of curiosity, why did you agree?”

You smiled back wistfully at the memory, remembering how you had excitedly texted your friends on how the Akaashi Keiji had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“It was so simple back then.” You explained, “He was the kind, pretty setter of the nationally-ranked volleyball team. It was shallow, based off of what little I heard about.”

“But you grew to love him.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed, “And look what that brought me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Haruki passed by, texting away on his phone, mind on something else before he spotted the two of you. He waved at Konoha first before his eyes landed on you, widening in obvious surprise before he shot you a genuinely wide smile.

“A lot of them miss you too.” Konoha explained.

“Well sorry, I tend to avoid anything regarding the volleyball team these days.”

“Don’t worry, as much as this sucks, we understand.”  Konoha frowned, clenching one of his hands into a fist in annoyance at the situation.

“But I do miss you guys too.” You added.

Konoha smiled, fondly remembering the last time you had all gone to the arcade, “Who could forget the time you beat Haruki at Dance Dance Revolution?” 

“He certainly did not.” You recalled, “He kept challenging me all the way up to mid-terms.” 

Konoha laughed, no one on the team was able to defeat the libero. And yet here you were, all smiles and confidence radiating off of you, bringing the third year to his knees. It made Konoha wonder if the last year could have been different. 

When Akaashi had approached you, Konoha had dutifully stood to the side. The setter was one of his closest friends and never had he approached anyone in the past. He was often busy with the team or Bokuto. And for Akaashi to have asked you, it meant he was serious. And so Konoha had stood to the side, his crush on you mollified if that meant you’d be happier with the setter your age.

If Konoha had the courage to ask you out instead, would you still be close to the volleyball team? Would you be celebrating an anniversary together rather than crying over some lecherous bastard he called a friend?

You sighed and turned to Konoha, registering his earlier words. “Why are you sorry?”

“What?”

“Why are you sorry about what happened with Akaashi?”

“Ah.” He raked an open palm through his hair. “Maybe I could have stopped you.”

“What?” You asked, a confused smile on your face.

“I introduced the two of you after all.” He explained.

“Shut up.” You said in a teasing tone, “No one could have stopped it. I was just dumb enough to fall for him.”

Konoha shot a small grin back at you, “Yeah, you were.”

Sighing loudly, you made sure you had all your stuff before standing. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Konoha held out a hand for you to shake, “I hope we can still be friends.”

It was odd, to feel the small blossom of something in the pit of your stomach. This was Konoha, your friend of two years at this point. This was nothing more than him trying his best to affirm your friendship, you reminded yourself.

“I hope so too.”

And, to his credit, he really did try. It was simple things - you had each other’s chat ID’s from your shared class together and, every once in a while, he would send you a meme or a small tidbit of information. You still had things in common, subjects ranging from the current shounen anime and TV shows you kept up with.

It was refreshing to talk to him. Your friends had your back, but the school’s curiosity was not easily satisfied with time. People were naturally nosy, eager to know the true reasons behind your failed relationship. Both you and Akaashi had yet to even address it and it only got worse with Bokuto’s increasing PDA.

Thankfully, no one was audacious enough to actually approach you about the situation. No one else was involved in your relationship and they had no right to actually point fingers.

That was until someone had the audacity to come up to you during the free period, most of everyone on campus enjoying their lunches.

You were sitting at your usual table, waiting for your friends to come from their respective classrooms when one of the more annoying third-years came up to you.

You recognized her as president of the Fukurodani Volleyball fanclub, this should be fun.

“I think you should apologize to Akaashi-san.”

You closed your book and looked up. The usual bustle of the lunchroom was dying down, many people silencing as they turned to the interaction. 

“What?”

“For wasting his time - he deserved so much better than you.” She bit out cruelly, the other girls behind her nodding in agreement. “And we all think it’s high time you beg for forgiveness.”

You stood up, pure annoyance rolling off of you. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? I don’t?” She challenged, “Why would Akaashi date you of all people? And now that the two of you are broken-up he’s been sadder than I’ve ever seen him! This is your fault!”

You slapped your book down and raised your chin, “If that’s what you honestly think then you’re as ignorant as you are a meddling piece of shit.” 

The murmurs that followed were obvious, people listening in to your harsh response.

She raised her hand as if to slap you, obviously offended at being called out to the entire lunchroom. “Why I outta --”

But the offending hand never came.

“Leave her alone.”

You could recognize your ex-boyfriend’s voice anywhere. Turning, you saw Bokuto enter your field of vision and grasp at her wrist in a tight hold, held high above your head. Akaashi was standing on the other side in front of you, an arm-outstretched as if to protect you from the group of girls.

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Akaashi stated clearly, his gaze was unwavering from the girl, but you were sure that the entire room was now listening in. “It was me.”

She stuttered, attempting to save face, “Akaashi-san, surely that’s not true.”

He turned to her, his blank expression now marginally colder. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

The mean third-year visibility recoiled, turning to you and apologizing under her breath. Bokuto swung her arm away, his glare enough to scare away the rest of the group, but the room was still obviously silent. Bokuto scanned the rest of the room with his tough stare, many people turning away and vainly attempting to restart their conversations. 

Akaashi turned to you, an unsure expression on his face. There were words on the tip of his tongue, you were sure, since he looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say.

“I’m not going to say thanks.” You decided to start for him.

“I know.”

You wanted to turn away from him again, no words left for you to say or even scream at him through your anger. This was more than just some ex, you genuinely loved Akaashi and thought he was going to be your future. And from the way he acted, it seemed like the setter wanted that as well.

“There’s something I want to say.” Akaashi stated before you could flee.

“Maybe not here.” Bokuto tugged at your elbow, motioning to the nearest hallway with his chin. 

You followed Akaashi wordlessly, Bokuto behind you to make sure you didn’t just run away. You sure that there were more than a few dozen pairs of eyes sticking to the backs of your strange trio.

Akaashi led you to a corner, no one to spy on your conversation unless they hung outside the building from the window. He moved to gently grasp your forearms, but you pushed him off before he could get a firm hold on you. 

He frowned, but looked at you intently. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You stated back plainly, “I can’t forgive you.”

Akaashi hesitated, a dejected look on his face. “I know.”

Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk away, to stop looking at his despondent pout and not fall for his sad look. You remembered the first time you fell in love with his smile - how easy he would flash that beaming expression at you. How Akaashi would tell you how much he loved you and it filled your heart until it overflowed.

And now all of those memories were worth nothing.

Screw being a bigger man, your heart had a thousand things it wanted to say.

“I really loved you, you know.” You pushed at his shoulder, “And now I can’t look at you without feeling like I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I was so in love with you I thought this would be it.” You felt your heart crying, but urged the motion down. “Why kiss me and tell me you love me when you had someone else on your mind the entire time?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akaashi looked just as anguished, trying to reach out to you with shy hands on your shoulders. “Please just listen to me.”

But you shoved him away this time, “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I love you.” 

His blue eyes bore right into your own, determined and sure of his previous statement. Looking over his shoulder, Bokuto was standing to the side, his gaze stuck on you as well. How the hell was this normal?

“What?”

Akaashi paused, hands coming up to hold you but stopping short again when he realized that was the last thing you needed. “I’m in love with both of you.”

You huffed and took a step back, what could you possibly say to that? There was a sudden flurry of emotions just whirring around your mind -  a rush of elation at being loved, immediately squashed down by the annoyed at Akaashi’s selfishness.

You turned to Bokuto, “You believe this?”

The wing-spiker frowned, but affirmed it in a loud voice. “Yes.”

“No.” You started back quickly, shaking your head. “I refuse to be part of this.”

“It’s true.” Akaashi pushed, moving toward you with an ernst expression on.

“I don’t care if it’s true or not.” You moved away again, but this time Akaashi did not let you evade him. Putting firm hands on your shoulders, he pulled you against his chest. “Stop.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I can’t.” Akaashi continued, “I love you and it hurts me so much that I hurt you in the process.”

You struggled against his hold until he let go. “How could I listen to you be so selfish?” 

“I know.”

“Don’t involve me in this.” You motioned at the both of them in a wide circle. 

“(F/N).” Akaashi stressed, eager to get you to see his side, but you wanted nothing to do with him or Bokuto. He broke your heart enough, there was no way you were willing to entertain him back in your life.

“What don’t you understand about leaving me alone?” You raised your voice, annoyed that Akaashi was asking anything of you after treating you so cruelly.

“Please let me explain.” Akaashi kept repeating.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that Akaashi could say that would ever make you think about introducing him back into your life. He was terrible for lying to you for months, maybe even as long as a year, but you didn’t want to exactly ask the length of his infidelity. He was a terrible boyfriend and an even worse person - you were ready to raise hands at both boys if they didn’t let you go this instant.

Bokuto blocked your path this time, “(L/N), come on we just -- “

“What’s going on here?” A gentle hand fell on your shoulder, pushing Bokuto aside as a new person entered your conversation.

Konoha stood tall behind you, his sudden appearance quelling your rising anger. If not, you were sure that you were going to throw hands with the volleyball boys. Bokuto would probably fight you off, but slapping Akaashi would feel cathartic in a way.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Bokuto tried to wave away the other wing spiker. “We’re just talking.”

“(F/N), please. Let me explain it all to you.” Akaashi stressed, moving a step in your direction, to which Konoha challenged when he tilted his head upward. 

“Right, just talking.” Konoha murmured in disbelief before turning to you. “And how do you feel?”

“I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Both Akaashi and Bokuto exclaimed your name in contrasting tones, but you hardened your expression before turning away from them. Konoha still had a hand on your shoulder as you walked back to the lunchroom.

Your friends were already at your table, some of them standing around pacing while others were angrily chewing into their food. A chorus of your name followed as the two of you neared the table, some of them getting up from their seats to give you a comforting hug.

“(F/N)!” Your best friend was quick to rush you, crushing you between her arms. “We heard that Akaashi and Bokuto basically ushered you away.”

“The whole lunchroom was basically watching that door.” Another stated, pointing to the one you just came from.

Your best friend put her hands on your shoulder, steading your attention back to her. “Please tell me you remembered that men ain’t shit.”

Konoha laughed as he put a mocking hand of offense over his heart.

“Yeah, yeah.” You assured her, “I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”

“Good.” She confirmed, before turning to Konoha. “Okay, only Konoha has rights.”

“Thanks.” He stated back half-heartedly, guiding you back to your lunch and taking the seat beside you.

“When people told us they took you away, we weren’t sure what to do. Go after you? Call you to give you an out? We didn’t even know how long you had been gone for!” She explained, “Thankfully Konoha here came to the rescue.”

You turned to the wing-spiker, smiling as you did so. “He really did, thank you.”

He reflected a similar expression back at you, holding your gaze before springing away to take out his own lunch out of his bag.

“I take it back, the volleyball team has no rights with the exception of Konoha.” One of your friends joked.

As for you, you could not help but think back to the fond expression Konoha just shot you. It was so quick, and yet so genuine, you felt it pierce your heart so suddenly just to rip away from you when he turned away. But not in a bad way, per se.

If anything, this was a nice feeling, for a lack of a better term, to have again. You were not totally healed, still angry at both Akaashi and Bokuto for being complete fuckheads. But a part of you was still alive, happy to see Konoha as your friend and just maybe… maybe something else.

Akaashi and Bokuto returned back to the lunchroom silently, having left their stuff at their now fully occupied table. Bokuto didn’t bother to even turn in your direction, but Akaashi shot you a devastatingly sad frown as he passed. 

A part of you wanted to comfort it, to leap out at the man who loved you for the past year. But you were thankfully steadied back to reality when Konoha put a gentle hand on your own. Akaashi’s gaze fell to the contact, making him stop entirely in his tracks. It was only when Bokuto grabbed his hand did the setter continue walking, but the shock on his face was palpable.

No matter, Akaashi was the last thing you wanted on your mind right now.

You upturned your hand and squeezed Konoha’s smiling at the third-year before turning back to your lunch.

The situation was far from resolved, you still had another two years at this drama-infested school and Akaashi seemed keen on explaining something to you. You were far from completely healed and it seemed the student body would not let this drama go unnoticed.

But you were getting there.

Little by little, you were re-learning to smile and laugh more. Places on campus were no longer bitter memories, but quiet lessons for you to remember. You had your loving best-friends and suddenly, the kind Konoha, at your side.

You had no worries about the rest of the school year, you would get through this with a head held high.

--------xXxXxXxXxXx--------

A/N: TBH for myself i could see this going both ways; reader saying nah OR reader entering a poly relationship. idk - i’ll write it if someone wants to see that ending but otherwise here we are :):

➳  Masterlist

#akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi x yn #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi scenarios #cheating haikyuu #cheater!akaashi #cheater akaashi #akaashi headcanons #akaashi hq #akaashi hcs #haikyuu!! #angst #fluff #anon request #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu au #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #akaashi keiji x you

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 2 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

Quotev · AO3

________

“Master Kenobi,” I bowed my head to him as I entered the briefing room, reciprocating the smile he gave me.

“Hello Nimra, I hope you’re doing well today?” Master Kenobi was, as always, kind and warm, I had only heard about him before being assigned to Master Skywalker but now that I had met him, I wished I could’ve gotten the opportunity to learn from him sooner.

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are getting along.” Anakin commented, seeming to feel ignored. I smirked as I turned to face him, bowing deeply and exaggeratedly.

“Master Skywalker, you’re important too!” I grinned as Obi Wan laughed behind his hands at my teasing.

“Very funny Nim, we’re actually in the middle of a debriefing if you hadn’t noticed.” He gestured to the conference table where Captain Rex and Commander Cody of Obi Wan’s 212th battalion stood.

“Gentlemen,” I greeted as we joined them at the table, earning a polite nod from each in return. “My first mission?” I turned to ask Anakin, unable to hide my excitement. It had only been a few days onboard Master Skywalker’s ship, but that paired with my time on Coruscant, I had been out of the action for far too long.

Anakin shook his head at me with a small smile, “Not for you, not a mission. Just routine inspections of the outer rim outposts.”

“However, I think it would be good for Nimra to join the captain and Commander Cody. I believe it will be good for her to familiarize herself with the standard procedures and how these bases operate.” Master Kenobi said, stroking his beard in thought.

Anakin shrugged at me. “It won’t be too long, and as long as the commanders don’t mind, I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he looked to the clones in question.

“We don’t mind at all, General.” Commander Cody said, giving me a small nod.

“Alright then, that’s settled. You three can get underway then. And don’t forget to check in.” Master Obi-Wan said, then turning to analyze some information on screen.

Anakin pulled me aside before letting me follow them out. “I know you’re here to learn from me, Nim, but these clones have more experience than you and I combined. Make sure you show them the respect they deserve, and use this opportunity to learn from them, as well.”

I bowed my head respectfully, showing him I understood. “Of course, Master.” With that he gave me a pat on the shoulder and a small smile and headed to Master Obi-Wan.

“Have fun!” He gave a wave over his shoulder, and I smiled and walked out to catch up with the commanders.

I might’ve been offended that Master Skywalker felt the need to tell me to be respectful to the clone commanders, but I had heard enough comments from my peers to show that not all Jedi, and not all people, were as respectful as they should be towards our soldiers. While they fought valiantly and gave their lives to protect us, we had people insulting them, and viewing them as less-than. I couldn’t stand that, I had ended friendships with such disrespectful people, and I just couldn’t understand where they were coming from.

Shaking these thoughts out of my head, I quickly made my way to the hangar, not wanting to be left behind.

***

Inspecting the bases was very, very far from interesting, and I huffed as we finally settled in the ship, setting the route for the final base we had to check, the Rishi Outpost. It was definitely a learning opportunity, but I felt like I was back in the classroom, learning all sorts of codes and procedures I needed to have memorized. However, thankfully I didn’t have to do very much, rather I just observed, Commander Cody taking the lead on all the inspections thus far.

I could see how the commander and Master Obi-Wan got along, both of them having a high regard for protocol and rules, whereas Captain Rex was a little more flexible to adjust more to Anakin’s… unique way of doing things.

“You doing alright, commander?” Rex turned to look at me in the small open cockpit, smirking slightly at my slouched posture in the chair.

Giving him an expression that should’ve fried him where he was, I sat up straight, cursing him in my mind. “Fantastic, captain.” I forced the most polite smile I could muster.

“Good.” I didn’t miss the amusement that shone in his eyes, making me thankful I had been assigned to this particular battalion. I wasn’t sure I would’ve made it with Cody’s more serious personality.

“I’m going to contact the Generals, let ‘em know where we’re at.” The commander in question spoke up, gaining both Rex and I’s attention.

I nodded. “Good idea, commander.”

Me and Rex watched silently as Cody opened the frequency to contact Master Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi, General Skywalker,” Commander Cody greeted as they appeared in the transmission.

“Cody. How goes the inspections?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The tracking station at Pastel is fully operational. Captain Rex, Commander Nimra and I are proceeding to the outpost in the Rishi system.”

“Good. Report back once you’ve arrived.”

“Copy that. Cody out.” He ended the transmission as Rex set the ship into hyperspace.

“How long to the Rishi outpost?” I asked

“Feeling tired sir?” Rex turned his head to eye me in question.

“No of course not, I just want to know so that I can prepare myself.” I glowered at him.

“It won’t be a long ride, commander, Rishi isn’t far from here.” Commander Cody piped in.

“Thank you, Cody.” I gave him a sweet smile, wanting to be on his good side since he and Master Kenobi were friends.

“Not a problem sir.”

***

The trip to the outpost really wasn’t far and I was excited for the boring protocol checks to come to an end. Commander Cody signaled the base as we made our approach. “Rishi Outpost, this is Commander Cody, do you copy? Rishi Outpost, please respond.” My brows furrowed as it took them a while to respond to our hails.

“Sorry, commander, we’re experiencing technical difficulties.” A voice responded from over the comms.

“This is the inspection team,” Cody responded.

“Inspection? Negative, we do not require an inspection. Everything is fine here, thank you.” I shared a look with Rex at this strange response. They knew to expect us, and they were speaking with a superior officer, so what was with the unwillingness to comply?

“We’ll be the judge of that. Prepare for our arrival.”

“Roger, roger.” At this Cody shut off the comm, looking uneasy.

“Something’s not right here.” Rex commented, frowning as we approached the landing pad.

“Well, good luck. I’m putting you in charge of this one. I know Commander Sayla has been taking notes, let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention.” Cody said to Rex, me smirking at him behind Cody’s back teasingly.

“Well, you two go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment, I’ll just contact Master Skywalker and update him on our whereabouts.” The two men nodded at me before exiting the ship, leaving me to turn on the comm, tuning in to the correct frequency to reach Master Anakin. A small frown formed on my face as I was met with nothing but static.

Confused, I turned to follow after Rex and Cody. They were talking to an officer out on the deck. A flare showed in the sky, briefly catching my attention before I turned back to see Rex pulling out his pistol, shooting the officer in the head. “Rex are you mad?!” I shouted, running up to the two quickly.

“Relax, commander,” Rex responded, unconcernedly. He reached down and pulled off the dead officer’s helmet to reveal the faceplate of a droid, but not an ordinary battle droid. “Just as I thought. Looks like one of those new commando droids.”

“That flare must have come from the survivors.” Commander Cody noted.

Shots rung out around us as more of those droids revealed themselves, and they had us surrounded. Well, this is going well, I thought to myself sarcastically. “Ambush!” Rex shouted, moving back to find cover.

“Really? And here I thought it was just the welcome party.” I responded over the noise of fire, deflecting bullets to cover the two soldiers behind me.

“Those clankers have tough armour!” Cody commented frustratedly.

“Yeah, I never thought I’d miss those lousy B-One battle droids!” I responded, wanting to laugh but finding it difficult with all the shots I was taking. The droids had caught us unawares and had us completely surrounded, boxing us in between several storage crates and coming at us from all directions.

“We’re cut off!” Rex shouted between shots. Suddenly more commandos came out from inside the base, tossing handfuls of detonators in our direction. While I found it slightly flattering that they felt it necessary to devote so many explosives to destroying us, it also left us a very small chance of surviving the explosion. “Off the platform!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” The men jumped before me and I quickly followed, unsure of what I was diving into, but I had no time to think if I wanted to make it out of the small area before being blown to bits. Before I could fall too far, I felt the wind knocked out of me as someone grabbed me around the waist, stopping my descent.

“I gotcha, commander.” Rex spoke into my ear, causing a warmth to rise to the back of my neck.

“I appreciate the sentiment captain, but you forget, I’m a Jedi.” I turned to look at him with a crooked grin. “I have these cool magical powers that allow me to catch myself before I go splat.”

“Of course, commander.” I didn’t miss the amusement in his voice as he let go of me, and I landed gracefully on the ground, watching as the two soldiers lowered themselves using their cables.

“This certainly complicates things, commander.” Rex addressed Cody as we took in our surroundings.

“No worse than that time on Tibrin.” Cody responded lightly.

“We had the Generals with us on Tibrin. They helped.” My brow raised at how quickly he dismissed my presence. That paired with how he caught me when he certainly wouldn’t have caught Skywalker made me think they didn’t realize what I was capable of.

Well since you don’t think I can help, have fun on your own, I thought to myself, slightly annoyed. Master Kenobi and Anakin had sent me to observe and learn, after all. So that’s what I would do.

The approach of three unknown clones drew our attention and pulled me from my thoughts. I could feel their force signatures, and they were indeed clones, but I didn’t cut in to say that as Rex demanded them take off their helmets. They took them off, albeit confusedly, and introduced themselves as Fives, Hevy, and Echo. Rex and Cody introduced themselves, and me, and I gave a little wave from my spot in the back, but remained silent.

It was interesting to see the way they dealt with these younger clones. It was a new side of Rex I hadn’t yet seen. I stayed with my arms folded across my chest, leaning against a wall of the cave even as a giant eel like creature attacked, watching with only mild interest as the captain took it out with one shot. I was more interested in the young ‘shinies’, as Rex called them.

They were young and inexperienced but they had a firm determination that was refreshing to see. I walked in the back alongside Echo as we found better ground. “So, you’re a Jedi, sir?”

“Almost,” I responded with a warm smile. “Have you met a Jedi before?”

He nodded. “General Shaak Ti helped train us on Kamino. Without her belief in us, me and my batchers would never have succeeded.” He clearly had a lot of respect for her, and it made me smile to see.

“Of course. I have only met Master Ti a few times but she seems very wise.” Our conversation came to an end as we quickly climbed up closer to the outpost.

“Look sharp, rookies. As long as those tweezers occupy this post, our home planet of Kamino is at risk.”

“But there’s so many of them.” Echo’s nervous comment made me smile. They really were shinies.

“Doesn’t matter, kid. We have to retake this base, so we will retake this base!”

“And how do you propose we get through those blast doors, Rex, old boy?” Cody turned to look at Rex.

“I have a few ideas.”

He didn’t share his idea until we took out all the droids on the platform, me taking care of the stragglers before they could call for backup or notify anyone to our presence. But his brilliant idea was… well I could see how him and Skywalker got along, or perhaps they had spent too much time together because his idea was a very poor plan I could see Skywalker coming up with.

“This is never gonna work.” Cody sighed from beside me, making me chuckle and nod in agreement.

“I mean I could’ve just sliced it open with my lightsaber but I figured I’d let him have his fun.” I commented as we watched the captain faking taking off his helmet and holding up a decapitated droid head up in its place.

To our collective surprise, the blast doors opened, his plan succeeding. These droids might’ve had tougher armour than the standard B-One but they certainly weren’t much smarter. “Clones!” One called out in surprise, far too late, unfortunately for them.

“Roger, roger.” The captain responded coolly, shooting at it before we all jumped out and dismantled the rest of the droids. “Right, let’s move.”

“Permission to take point, sir?” Hevy asked, no doubt excited to be seeing some action.

“I’malways first, kid.” Rex responded, making me grin.

We were able to overtake the base quickly, Fives and Echo making me laugh as they argued over who got the kill on a droid. “Sorry Echo, that one really was Fives.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

“Get to the window. It looks like we have more visitors.” Commander Cody pointed out at the sky.

“It looks like a Separatist fleet.” I frowned at the sight above us. This was not good.

“That’s why they commandeered this outpost. They’re mounting a full-scale invasion,” Rex stated.

“Can we get a message out?” I asked.

“No good, they’re jamming all other communication and they’ve hardwired the all-clear signal. It’ll take too long to fix. And we’ve got company.” Rex pointed to the shuttle full of droid reinforcements that was making its way to us.

“Well buddy, you always said you wanted to be on the front lines.” Fives nudged Hevy lightly.

“We can’t protect the outpost long against that army of clankers.” Hevy said, turning to look at Rex.

“Then we’ll destroy the outpost instead.” My brows raised at this idea. It certainly wasn’t orthodox but it would cut off the all clear signal, which would capture our fleet’s attention.

Rex quickly got everyone on board with the idea and Echo came up with a solution on how we would manage to destroy the base itself, a plan quickly coming together. He really is a great leader, I thought to myself as I watched Rex divide the men into teams.

“Are you alright to go with Hevy and the boys to hold off the clankers, give us more time?” The captain asked me, fully aware that while he was in charge, I was above him in rank.

I nodded. “Of course, captain. Don’t worry about me.” I gave him a little smile as I followed after Hevy to the building’s entrance.

“Reinforcements reporting. Open up.”

Hevy opened the blast doors, blaster canon at the ready. “Didn’t say please.” He quipped, opening fire on the droids.

I laughed as I dove in front of him, deflecting bullets to cover him and taking out as many droids as I could reach. Many more took their place and I cursed at General Grievous in my mind, there was no doubt that he was behind this. “Just some routine inspections, they said, just to pick up some standard procedure. Yeah right.” I muttered, swatting away battle droids with my lightsaber as I grumbled to myself.

“Time to go commander!” Hevy called to me. I nodded at him and quickly jogged inside, still deflecting laser bolts back at the enemy. Quickly the blast doors sealed behind me and we made our way back to the command centre.

“Rex, time’s wasting.” Cody called out as we entered.

“Almost ready. The handset isn’t linked up with the detonator. Hevy.”

“Yes, sir?”

“This detonator isn’t working.” Rex said, handing it over to him.

“I’ll take care of it. It’ll be fixed in no time. You guys get out of here.”

“Just make it fast. Those droids are getting close.” Rex opened the ventilation shaft, gesturing for me to enter it first.

“I’ll wait, I’ll go last,” I opposed.

“Please commander, we’ll be right behind you. Besides, if you get hurt on my watch, the General won’t let me hear the end of it.” He made me laugh lightly.

“Fine then. Hurry up, all of you.” I quickly made my way through the tunnels, exiting and trying to find a good vantage point to watch the sky from.

The rest of the team was right behind me, and Rex looked up at the base. “Hevy, hit the – where’s Hevy?” I quickly turned at his words, noting that Hevy was indeed missing.

“He must still be trying to fix the detonator!” I quickly turned back and tried to make my way up the slope we had just come from, the rest of the team trying to get a hold of Hevy. He just needed to wait, I would be right there. Before I could clamber back into the ventilation shaft someone yanked me back by the arm, holding me back.

I watched in horror as the base exploded before me, debris flying everywhere, flames erupting from the pipes in front of me, nearly reaching my face.

I stared into the flames for several moments, face blank, before turning and walking away, the arm that had held me back finally letting go. How many lives now? How many lives had been given to save my own?

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, the smell of smoke and scorched metal filling my nostrils. Trust in the will of the force, I repeated the line to myself. Quieting my mind, I turned back to the group, putting a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder as he looked up at the flaming base. “Hevy always did hate that place.”

Our own fleet appeared in the sky momentarily, clearly getting the message that something was wrong, and gunships quickly appeared to pick us up. Suffice it to say I was more than eager to get off that rock.

“So, what have you learned from your trip, Nim?” Master Skywalker asked as I joined him in the hangar bay.

“That you and your captain deserve each other.” I joked with a grin, earning a laugh from Anakin and a look from the helmeted captain himself.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Anakin responded.

“You should.”

***

After a small ceremony indicting Fives and Echo into the Five Hundred and First and awarding them on their bravery and success, there was a small informal celebration in the mess hall. We had staved off an invasion on Kamino, and we had two new recruits, so there was some celebration to be had. However, I knew Fives and Echo had the recent events still in their minds, and someone else who was nowhere to be found.

Making my way back to the hangar bay I found the captain sitting in a corner on a workbench, helmet on the floor in front of him. I came to a stop before him, unsure if my company was welcome or unwanted. Several moments passed before he spoke.

"I should've stayed behind and made sure they all got out. I should've known he'd try something stupidly heroic." His head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor hollowly.

I sighed, sitting down on the bench beside him, staring ahead as I fell into my own thoughts. "It's not easy, when I think about all the people who have given their lives to save me. So many soldiers on the battlefield, like Hevy, like my Master," My voice broke at the mention of my old Master. Talking about him still brought up so much pain, and so many memories I tried to forget. "Some days I feel like I wasn't worth it."

"And other days?" He looked to me questioningly.

"I realize that it was never about me." I said, giving him a small smile. He nodded at me, considering my words. "When those people give their lives, it is because they are selfless. It is because they want to save lives so desperately they are willing to sacrifice anything. In that moment they are not thinking about me, and whether or not I am worth it. They are only thinking about saving anyone they can." I let myself speak my thoughts aloud, needing this conversation as much as he did.

"We should do our best to live well. To honour their sacrifice."

I looked at him thoughtfully, drawn to his dark golden orbs that held such meaning. What had those eyes seen? What emotion did they harbour? What knowledge did they hold?

I resisted the urge to sigh wistfully as I looked into his eyes, wishing I could know what they hid. "And so we shall." I gave a small smile and stood up, gesturing towards where the others were. "Now let's go celebrate the newest additions to the five hundred and first."

#Captain Rex #Rex x reader #rex x you #The Clone Wars #Star Wars #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Clone wars #Clone trooper rex #Clone wars fanfic #Clone wars fanfiction #Clone wars Rex #Star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #rex clone wars #captain rex x jedi reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex fanfic #captain rex imagine #tcw rex #tcw captain rex #tcw fanfic #tcw oc #captain rex x oc

[static-fanatic-1]

Yandere!All For One x Fem!Reader

Warning: Non-con, Fingering, Kidnapping, Mentioning of stalking, Spooky gift giving, Reader has a powerful healing quirk activated by bodily fluids (it’s important).

Word count: 7.3k

~~~~~

You nervously bit your lip, twiddling your hands and fingers to relive the anxiety creeping up your spine. Recovery Girl, the healing hero that decided to take you under her wing, decided it would be good idea for you to meet a colleague of hers to get some physical training. It was an important thing that you needed to learn despite your quirk.

The slender yet short woman took a weary glance at you. "Calm down (y/n), you have no reason to be nervous."

You jumped at the sound of her voice. "I-I know, what if they don't think I'm worth training though?" You've always been self councious of your quirk. Though it was insanely powerful, mainly for other people, it turned you into a physically sickly person. To simply put it, what you thought was not worth training.

A disappointed sigh left her lips. Recovery girl, still not looking her age as of yet, was a short woman with dark black hair, peppered with more white streaks than her natural color, dressed in a bun with her usual hero look going on. "Gran Torino won't push you too hard, besides he's training Toshinori! You know him right? The third year who's really strong?"

A slight blush tinted your cheeks. "Uh, y-yes ma'am!" God you hated it when you became a stuttering mess, especially when that specific third year was mentioned. Ever since you bumped into him in the halls you couldn't shake away your growing crush. It was totally embarrassing. Even your classmate, Enji Todoroki, lightly made fun of you for it.

Ms. Shuzenji lightly chuckled at your reddened expression. "Gran Torino said he would meet us in one of the gyms after school hours. Since you're a first year and you don't have your provisional license yet, we aren't supposed to train you off of school grounds." She further explained.

"When I get my license will it be alright for me to train off campus? Or could he just take me in for hero studies?"

"Technically you already are under hero studies because I'm training you, and because I'm a teacher I can't allow you to train off school grounds." The two of you turned a corner, now face to face with the large door separating you two from the racket going on on the other side. Both of you exchanged a confused look before opening the doors.

From what you were witnessing, you probably shouldn't have agreed to working with Gran Torino.

The yellow blur flew from floor to ceiling, and wall to wall just to slam his feet into the poor boy's body. Each attack seemed more painful than the last as he desperately tried to keep up with his sensei.

Toshinori paused, as did Gran Torino, and excitedly straightened his stance. With a finger pointing in your general direction his face lit up. "Your that first year I bumped into! Gran Torino you should have told me who-!"

His spat was quickly cut off by a pair of feet slamming against his ribs. The blond flew across the gym and into the concrete walls, dust fuming around his now hunched over form. "Don't get distracted, Toshinori." Torino scolded.

The average height hero turned, now facing the two female across the room. "So this is (l/n)? Nice to meet you." He said with a slight wave.

Recovery girl tapped your shoulder and motioned to the suffering boy, telling you to heal him without using her words. "Pl-pleasure to meet you too, sir." Quickly nodding in both of the hero's directions, you scurried over to the third year you unfortunately developed a crush over.

"Um, Toshinori Senpai, are you hurt?" 'What am I saying? Of course he's hurt!' Your flustered mumbling almost went unnoticed.

"Yeah, yeah, probably broke a rib... again." His blond hair framed his smiling face, the overly joyous expression only bringing you more concern.

"Again?! Here, let me help." You wrapped your arms around his form and lifted him into a seating position, doing your best to keep him upright. "Alright so this might be weird, but, are you okay with kissing me?" You twisted your face in a sad excuse for guilt.

Toshinori found it funny, but unexpected none the less. "K-kiss you?!" His face burst into a deep red blush while his words came out as coughs.

"Y-Yeah! I mean or lick you, whatever floats your boat I don't judge."

Gran Torino wondered over to the youthful hero. "So she's the healer? The one you wanted me to train alongside Toshinori right?"

She nodded and turned to look at her addresser. "Her healing is stronger than mine, and there are no repercussions on the person she uses it with. If the two of them get to know each other they could be an amazing team."

"Healing stronger than yours huh? How does it work?"

"Bodily fluids like blood and saliva." Shuzenji paused, letting the information sink in before continuing. "Her quirk has been used in ways it shouldn't have been used."

Gran Torino furrowed his brows and looked at the two students. Toshinori already looked much better than before. His skin seemed healthier, pained expression replaced with a bright red face, and the blood smeared on his mouth being wiped away like a memory. Still, he soaked in the new information as he watched the students embarrass themselves.

"Does she know about one for all?"

"No, but she's trustworthy enough to tell, eventually at least."

"Alright, alright, I'll train her."

~~~

After a few months of training under Gran Torino and Toshinori, you had grown a little bit stronger. At least as strong as you were able to get. Toshinori on the other hand made a lot more progress, his training also getting far more intense than you will ever be able to handle.

Enji tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. He gave you a disappointed yet concerned look. "You need to focus, I don't want to help you with History again."

"Ah, sorry, sorry." He scoffed and grabbed his stuff to leave the classroom. "Wait for me!" You yelped, quickly stuffing your things in your bag to chasing after him. "Your legs are too long!"

The two of you wondered into the cafeteria and settled in your seats. You shuffled things around in your bag as Enji started to eat, you could feel him watching and judging you. "What?"

He slurped up his hot soba, taking his time before he decided it would be okay to explain his judgement. "You have been training with that third year huh? Yagi, isn't it?"

"O-oh! Um, yeah. Toshinori, he's been helping me get stronger despite my quirk's draw back." You shifted in your seat under his intense glare.

"And?" He pressed on.

"Oh you know, he's helping me learn how to fight and get physically stronger. Nothing too special. Why do you ask?"

A certain blond revealed himself, his bright smile almost blinding as he smacked his tray on the table next to you. "Hey (y/n), Todorok-kun!"

You jumped and covered your reddening face with your hands. "Ah! Hello Toshi-senpai!"

Enji glanced between the two of you, both of you have been rather close lately and the redhead was developing theories that have been plaguing his mind. "That's why I ask." He pointed to your bright red face.

Toshinori almost spat out his water when he glanced at your red face. "Woah! Todoroki-kun, it's nothing like that! Haha!"

"Y-Yeah! We're just training!" You spat out.

Enji just gave you a look, but overall decided against pressing further. Instead he sighed and glared at the third year.

You couldn't blame him though, Toshi was easily considered as strong as the pros, and Enji wanted to be on top of them all. He most likely saw him as competition.

You lightly laughed and tapped Enji's shoulder. "Don't over think it. Besides let's be honest, I need a lot more help than you do." You have the redhead a delicate smile, still he kept his condescending look.

"Don't you have to do chemistry homework you skipped?"

"Oh shit! That's next period!" You yelped and began the homework you skipped last night.

"Geez, I remember chemistry, I really struggled with that one." Toshi exclaimed, leaning back with his cheeks stuffed with pork cutlet and rice. "I can't help you with that one, (y/n)-chan."

"Don't worry, I'm surprisingly good at math and science. It's the other subjects I struggle with." You stuffed your face with your food as you quickly solved the problems on the sheet. "Enji actually helps me with the other ones, I help him with chemistry and maths."

"I don't need your help." Todoroki snapped back.

"Sure." Came out your muffled sarcasm. "Do you want me to check your homework?"

There was a slight pause, Toshinori placing his hand over his mouth to stop his growing laughter.

"Yes."

~~~

That was the beginning of the three of you. Toshi quickly climbed up the ranks as the number one hero. He left for America for a while, but kept in touch with you as you finished school and tried to make a name for yourself.

Enji quickly surpassed you, but he still stayed your dear friend. He found an organization and followed behind Toshi, climbing up the ranks and making a name at the early age of twenty.

They were strong, powerful, and you were everything else. Weak. The only thing you had going for you was your quirk, and even then it was taxing on your body.

You joined a smaller hero agency and continued developing your quirk. With your skill in chemistry you learned you can convert your bodily fluids into pill form. Though they don't work as well, it allows you to give people a full heal without loosing yourself.

Though you never seemed to be as lucky as you hoped. The hero you had come to know and trust abused your kindness, his other sidekicks finding it funny to stuff you full of their cocks and use you as a toy.

You never felt so humiliated and destroyed in your entire life. What started as a simple conversation drastically changed into the hero's using your quirk as an excuse to do as they pleased. They even threatened to ruin your career as a hero if you told anyone... but you just couldn't keep quiet.

That night you drove away, tears streaming down your reddened cheeks as the horrid feeling and taste lingered. You drove all the way to the current number nine's house and knocked on his door at 2:48 am. He lived alone, still focusing on climbing up the ranks to be number one.

Despite not seeing him in months and thinking you were only a distraction, he let you in.

Enji held you close as you sobbed and told him what happened, your words chocking on your cries. He let you clean up and stay for the night, as you didn't feel safe alone anymore. You slept on the couch that night, unbeknownst to you Enji called up Toshinori.

The three of you met up the next day to expose the so called heroes that defiled you. Without Enji and Toshinori, you wouldn't have been able to tell anyone, that or you would never be the hero you've always wanted to be.

You constantly look back on that day. You couldn't help but appreciate what your two friends did for you, especially when you are reminded of them. You would give anything to help them. Anything.

You joined All Might in his quest for heroism, becoming his sidekick and healing people he saved. He loved working with you, and you loved working with him. The spark between the two of you was obvious from the beginning, and as the two of you worked together the spark only grew.

You left for a while though, a well-known hero asking for your help in America. You bought a small apartment and began your own.

~~~

"Wait... what? He-he's...." You voice cracked, hand lightly tracing the bow on the flat triangular box on your bed. Smooth wrapping providing false comfort over the situation over the phone. Gran Torino's gruff, pained voice echoed in your ears and in your brain.

"Toshinori needs your healing, that or I'm afraid it will be the end of the Symbol of Peace." You shivered at his words, turning your back to your bed to sit down. Your hands rubbed your face and eyes from stress, not just from Toshi's conditions but the strange gifts you keep finding in your house. "Recovery girl already stabilized him, but your healing should finish the job."

"I understand, uh, I'll book a ticket-"

"Don't, we already bought a private plane ticket, we don't want the media to get involved." Gran Torino finished, sighing behind the screen. He must be feeling the same things you were feeling; stress and anxiety. Despite the stress he continued, giving the details of the flight he bought.

"Alright, alright. I'll get some pills ready and pack. Take care." He lightly chuckled, probably nodding behind the screen, before ending the call.

You dropped you phone on your bed and sighed. The hand that was tracing the wrapped gift paused over the red satin bow. A sense of dread crawled up your spine making you shiver.

You wanted to throw the thing away and let it rot in your dark closet, but after finally deciding to open the other ones up you decided that wasn't a good idea. Whoever has been sending you the few gifts wanted something you were too afraid to give.

Yesterday you opened the first gift, one with a purple bow and silver wrapping paper, and found a beautiful sun dress with a letter. At first you thought it was a fan, after all it wasn't too strange for you to find fans who gave you gifts like this, so you ignored the red flag of finding it on your temporary apartment door step.

But when you glanced at the letter, your blood froze. Written in fancy cursive, penmanship you could easily call perfect, was an alarming letter about compliments you could dismiss as a little strange. That was the second red flag.

The next few gifts had letters as well, each one more descriptive and alarming than the last. One described how entertaining it was for you to be so close to the number one hero All Might, and how the sender would enjoy taking you from him.

So when you found another gift, this time wrapped in a red bow with dark grey wrapping, you wanted to puke. You debated opening it up to save yourself some sanity and stress, but you were more afraid of the repercussions of not seeing what's inside.

With shaky breaths and an even shakier hand you unveiled the mystery box. You never felt so much dread in your life until you saw what was under the letter.

A gorgeous, obviously expressive set of black lingerie brought bile into your throat. Clasping your hand over your mouth you tried to swollen the nasty mixture as you continued your investigation. The set was lacey in a sultry way, seductive like it was meant for a lover to wear on their honeymoon.

You hated it, you feared it.

Especially the letters, you still didn't know who sent them but that only made you more afraid. So you read it, maybe you would know who was sending you these things, maybe you could get them arrested and save yourself the stress while you go heal Toshi.

'Dear (y/n) (l/n),

I consider myself a patient man, one that will wait until the time is right. I wish for you to wear the gift I have given you, it would greatly please me to see you in it when I come for you. So save yourself the pain-'

You stopped and gagged, crumpling up the carefully written letter and throwing it across the room. Anxious tears streamed down your face as you violently shook.

Their going to come for you? Why? When? Where? Here? No no no, not here. You'll be off back home in Japan, away from this sad apartment and away from the creepy stalker.

You glanced over at the lingerie, should you wear it? What would they do if you didn't wear it? Are they watching you now?

Once more you shivered, this time taking the lingerie and holding it close. You were terrified of the consequences so you decided to wear it. All you had to do now was get some pills ready and pack for the plane ride. So stop stressing.

~~~

You held your bags close, the satchel with your quirk infused pills even closer. Your anxiety was spiking, more so than it has ever before. You wore half of your hero costume, having on the white lab coat, jaw guard, and belts with sleeping syringes you created yourself. Usually you have heels with a dress shirt and pencil skirt, but instead you decided to wear something more comfortable. So you wore grey sweat pants and a black tank top under your white coat.

Grey and white mountains littered the horizon while vibrant greenery and large trees rose high into the sky. You exited the small plane and wondered over to Gran Torino. A solemn expression decorated your features as you met up with the group.

Gran Torino, Sir Nighteye, and Tsukauchi waited for you, Tsu being the only one to smile back. "Hey, Witch Doctor are you ready to head out?" Tsu wore a white dress shirt and black slacks with his favorite brown trench coat over his shoulders.

Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye wore their full hero costumes despite the long ride ahead.

Your smile widened ever so slightly as you nodded. "Please, call me (y/n). And yes, I have the pills if he wants to go that route, it should be more than enough to heal him all the way." You lifted up the satchel and waved it around.

They knew how your quirk worked, bodily fluids. So they understood how people in the past took advantage of that, so they were a little surprised when you mentioned giving All Might a choice. They didn't mention it though. "Could-can you... tell me about Toshi?"

Gran Torino grunted before waking to a few cars nearby. "His stomach was pretty much gutted, he's hanging on a thread thanks to Recovery Girl. He would've died otherwise."

Nighteye looked away with an uncomfortable expression. "If he-he didn't hold on for so long...." He mumbled away without wanting to finish his sentence.

"He'll be fine," Finished Tsukauchi. "He is fine, he just needs some help getting better."

You listened to the policeman, his enthusiasm seemingly forced and full of anxiety. "What happened to him?" You asked again, this time with more force.

They all stayed silent as they continued walking to the cars, so you stopped. "L-listen, I know why it might be hard to talk about, but-but I would like to know. There-there has been some crazy shit happening lately, and you said he was injured a few days ago? It just-just seems too... too coincidental? I guess?"

Tsukauchi turned to you with a worried expression. "Like what? Why haven't you told any of us?"

"I was-it is just-just a stalker but... I'm scared, you know? It started four-five days ago and it just seems too coincidental." You lightly laughed at yourself, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try and calm your riled up nerves. "Never mind, I'm-I'm just stressing out. Maybe...."

Nighteye adjusted his glasses and peered into your soul. "Why would it be coincidental? What else happened?"

"There-there were letters. Letters with information only a few people should know about." Your body curled in on itself. "Some things about Nana, and you guys, and Toshi. Just a bunch of mumbo jumbo that has me scared."

Tsukauchi placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's talk about this in the car." His delicate smile helped put you at ease, so you nodded and continued. "And if you really are worried maybe Nighteye can look into your future?"

The tall, suit wearing man scoffed as he entered the passengers seat. "I'm not exactly okay with something like that."

"It would help." You meekly said, getting into the car. The men took a nice long look at you, how you shivered and stared with a furrowed brow. It was like you were playing out scenarios of all the bad things that could happen to you. "But I understand-!"

"You look pathetic like that." Nighteye shifted in his seat as Gran Torino started the car. "I'll do for you, but you can't change what will happen. I've tried."

You shyly smiled at him and nodded your head. "That's fine with me, I just want to mentally prepare myself, ya' know?"

"That's a good idea, Witch Doct-I mean (y/n)." Tsu corrected himself and shifted next to you.

"Right, thanks guys." You and Sir looked into each others eyes, a small shiver running up your spine as his left eye turned into a purple-black storm.

All four of you waited as the car sped through the Japanese wilderness. The large green trees provided shade and small rays of sunlight peeking through. The road was long and curved on the side of the mountain you were descending. It was peaceful, calm... too calm.

The thick air was interrupted by a gasp, Nighteye's calculating eyes shifting to the sunroof of the small car. His body was rigid, his face twisted in growing fear. "Stop the car!"

Gran Torino smashed the breaks causing the car to screech and dangerously swerve to a stop. "Whats-?!"

He couldn't finish his sentence before a large, swirling purple mass emerged from nothing before the group. A large hand emerged, a rocky face following behind.

"Get our of the car!" Sir Nighteye screeched, grabbing Gran Torino and pulling him out with him. Tsukauchi dashed out and joined the others against the cliff side.

You unbuckled and reached for the door handle, but you were too late.

The large figure fully emerged and smacked his hand against the car, knocking it off the steep cliff side and into the mass of trees below. You screamed and held your body as close as possible, the car shoving you every which way. Glass shattered, metal crushed against itself, you hit your head so much you could taste the blood in your mouth.

A loud crash echoed through the forest floor, bird and animals fleeing to a far away safety. You coughed, trying to drag your body out the broken window next to you.

Your arm shrieked in pain, it must be broken, you thought. Still you refused to be a sitting duck. You clawed your way out of the car, praying all of your things are in one piece.

Gran Torino appeared in front of you and helped you out before hopping away. The giant from before jumped down beside the car, the ground around him crumbling under his feet. "Everything I do is for my master." The giant chanted his mantra, his eyes glueing to your form with heart stopping ferocity.

Nighteye fell from above and slammed his feet against the giant's head, knocking him off his rhythm.

He grunted and stumbled into a tree, trampling the plant in the process. He took the broken tree and rips it from the ground just to chuck it back at Sir Nighteye.

"Watch out!" You swallowed your blood and spit to heal yourself just enough to get into the fight. You shoved your support mask over the lower half of your face, letting it pierce through your skin so you can drink your blood. "Torino! Make sure Tsukauchi is okay, I'll go for Sir!"

"Get in and get out!" Quickly you two split up.

You dashed over to Sir Nighteye and pulled him from the colliding tree. You drank your blood and building saliva to slowly heal your wounds, your broken arm mending itself enough for you to use it.

The tree burst into splinters. Sir found his footing and pulled you behind another tree. "Are you okay?" He asked, holding you close while looking at the giant behind him.

"Yeah, yeah. What did you see in your vision? We'll get out right?"

Sir Nighteye bit his bottom lip. He didn't know what he should do, tell her and give up or try and fight fate. "That's not important right now." He commented calmly, but internally he was at war.

He saw your future, one where you were taken after everyone else was too hurt to fight back. Gran Torino would jump in to try and save you, Tsukauchi begging for you be set free from the cliff side. Gran Torino would be caught and killed when he tries to save you, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Sir Nighteye almost debated letting you get caught just so the rest of them could get away unharmed.

You glanced at him before pulling the two of you were crushed by the giant. "Focus Sir! We need to group up with Torino and Tsu. This guy is really strong."

"We can't take him on." He blurted out.

"What do mean?" Your voice came out shaky, the giant already on his way to fight you two again. He trudged over and loomed above you and Sir, growling as he swiped Sir Nighteye away. The giant had a hint of a smile of his face when he gripped your form in his iron like grip.

You jolted in his hold and fumbled with your hero costume to pull out the syringes, all of them. Quickly you stabbed the giant's neck and pumped his system with five of your homemade concoctions.

Gran Torino grabbed Nighteye before he slammed against a tree, carefully putting the fading man on the ground. Torino stared up at your thrashing form, but before he could rush up to help you a hand tightly gripped his forearm. "Don't, if you go you'll die!"

Nighteye's grip tightened once he heard Tsukauchi scream from above.

"We can't let them take her, she's the only one that can heal Toshinori!" Gran Torino argued, thrashing away and dashing to save you.

The giant wobbled from the potent amount of drugs in is system, but it didn't stop him. A new purple portal formed in front of the two of you, and a newfound vigor was found in the giant. "Gran Torino!" Your voice echoed with unadulterated terror.

You could see him coming to help you, but you could also feel the giant prepare an attack against your friend. If you were taken Toshi wouldn't get the drugs, Gran Torino would get seriously injured if he got too close. You didn't want to see that happen, so you grabbed the satchel and threw it as hard as possible at Torino, smacking him against the face and knocking him to the ground.

The giant trudged into the portal with you over his shoulder, leaving your hero buddies in the ruined forest. He kneeled down and swayed from the drugs, letting you fall to the ground below him.

A man of purple mist and a dress vest walked over, his misty hands clamped over his front. "Witch Doctor," he addresses," I would appreciate it if you followed me."

You bit your lip, still being looked over by the giant man behind your hunched form. You wanted to ask a question, to yell and scream and thrash until they were too annoyed to keep you alive... but you were too afraid to even try.

Was this the man sending you the letters? Was this the legendary All For One Toshi warned you about? "Who-who are you?" Your voice betrayed you and cracked under your fear.

Yellow eyes evaluated your own (e/c) ones. The mist man in front of you seemed to be figuring out what happened to the woozy giant behind you, but you couldn't tell in those yellow voids of his. "My name is Kurogiri, now, follow me." His tone shifted into a more violent one.

You shivered under his gaze, a figure showing up beside him. A judgmental figure at that, short with large goggles and a mustache. Though this new addition discarded you with a quiet mutter under his breath.

Kurogiri finally had enough waiting and grabbed you by your wounded forearm, making you cringe as he pulled you through the dull halls of the facility. The environment was filled with dark greys, bright blues and a metallic shine. "Where are we going?"

"You are going to heal my master."

You didn't need to hear anymore before understanding what was going to happen. You pulled your injured arm from his grip, wincing at the pain, and ran as fast as you could.

Sadly you didn't get as far as you would have wanted. A purple portal swept you off your feet, making you fall into a new room entirely. Your body slammed against the hard floor without mercy.

Kurogiri sighed and stepped through a portal he made for himself, once again dragging you to your feet. The room was dark, but clean and barren none the less. The sounds that echoed through the room was that of a breathing machine and medical equipment.

"You may leave, Kurogiri. I'll take it from here."

A haunting voice shook you to your core, it was deep and threatening, yet mocking and intrigued. The man of mist turned on his heels and left, closing the portal behind him. Your heat beat loudly in your chest, suffocating and causing you to hyperventilate.

The voice boomed with laughter, a strained sound complimenting the 'wrrr's of the machines. "You have no reason to be afraid, (y/n)." The hands gripping the floor violently shook, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "Now come here."

His mammoth sized hand stalked out of the darkness covering his body, tempting you to take it. You could see the underlying of his mouth, bright white teeth gleaming in mockery. "I suggest you don't keep me waiting, I've been patient enough." He added.

Your feet acted on their own volition, moving you closer to the shadowed figure. He could probably hear your uneven breathing from the bed he sat in. Once you stood beside the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks, he roughly grabbed your wrists and pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his hips as he sat up, a sigh escaping his barely visible lips.

"I must confess, (y/n), I've had my eyes on you for quite sometime." His mocking tone brought more tears to fall. "At first I was going to take you after I killed Nana, just to torture All Might some more. Then I learned of your quirk and wanted it for myself, but it wouldn't exactly be useful if I took it would it?"

His mammoth hands wrapped tightly around your wrists, forcing them to cup his cheeks around his sickening smile. "I asked a question." His voice shifted into a scolding tone, his hands slipping from your arms to your waist.

"N-no, it wouldn't."

All For One's smile widened at your scared tone. "Are you scared?" He mocked. "Where's that smile All Might preaches, huh?" You jolted in his lap as his cold hands touched the flesh of your hips. He snickered at your skittish reactions. "You are much cuter up close, you know that?"

Submit or fight back? You tried that a long time ago, fighting back, and it made everything so much worse. You were afraid, terrified of fighting back against this man. Were you afraid of death? No, you never thought yourself to be, but maybe you were wrong. The suffocating feeling of him staring you down like prey made you think he was death itself. And that made you fucking terrified.

His humming and hands sliding your shirt up brought you back to reality. "Wa-wait!"

He grumbled and stopped. "Go on."

"I can heal you another way! It'll hurt less but-but it'll take a little longer." You stutter to try and save your skin, but the never faltering smile he gave told you it was all for not.

His hands also proved that theory. They roamed up your tank top, tapping each finger against your skin for more insult to injury. "You're so sweet, worrying about me. I'm sure you already know who I am, don't you?"

You nodded and tried to shift away from the man's touches. He groaned at the friction down below. Time stopped when you heard that noise, a meek squeak emitting from your throat. He mockingly laughed at the sound. "I'll take that as a yes."

He started to take off your clothes, gently, slowly, layer by layer. Shivers and tears shocked your body, you hated it, but you were too afraid to even think about fighting back. Pieces were thrown to the stone floor, your hero costume being stripped from you.

All For One's grin widened more than you thought possible. "You wore the lingerie I bought for you. I'm flattered." His hands cupped your covered breasts, the thumbs tracing the lace. You held back a mewl when he undid the clasp and started kneading the mounds. Forefingers and thumbs tweaked your nipples, pulling and pinching the sensitive flesh.

Your hands stayed glued to his face, the tips of your fingers grazed mauled flesh but quickly pulled away. The man below you noticed, chuckled, and forced your hands onto his mauled face again. "This is what your precious All Might did to me, cruel isn't it?"

A shiver ran down your spine at the odd sensation he forced in your finger tips. Calloused hands dragged down your waist to your panty line, pulling the clothe to the side. His thick finger ran up your slit, collecting the small amount of fluid that had built up. He returned it to his lips and dragged his tongue to lap up the liquid pleasure.

All For One shuddered and groaned at the taste. the man could feel your quirk taking effect, the burning sensation already taking hold the more he tasted. Animalistic pleasure grabbed him by the throat, his lips crashing into your own. He wanted more of that sweet taste, the taste that would heal him back into completion over and over and over again.

He wanted you, all of you.

Saliva mixed in both of your mouths as his tongue slipped past your lips. He groaned and tightened his already iron grip on your hips, your bones creaking under the strain. You meekly shrieked when he bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and drinking the blood.

The wound quickly healed up so he kept his assault, biting and sucking and drinking the blood. Your hands slid to his clothed chest, trying to push off.

All For One wasn't having it though, he stripped himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt and pulled your form closer to him. His clothed groin strained in his pants, you could feel it prodding your nether regions. One hand snaked into your (h/l) (h/c) hair to keep your lips locked with his, the other hand cupping and rubbing your sex.

You accidentally moaned into the kiss, earning a amused groan from your captor. The man let go of your bruising lips to listen to your cute mewls. His hands sped up, using the base of his palm to rub your clit as one of his thick fingers entered the sex.

He mercilessly pumped the finger, curling and prodding at the spongy spot inside you. Your legs trembled around him, hands sliding up to his shoulder for something sturdy to hold. You hated how pleasurable this felt, you hated how it was him who made you feel like this.

"St-sto-ah-p! I-I-!" He chuckled at your meek attempts, his lips crashing into your neck and biting harshly. "Gah!" You could feel the blood drip down your collar bone before being lapped up. All For One added another finger and scissored around to stretch you out.

You could feel the rumbling of his throat, the tightening and tensing of his muscles, all from your bodily fluids. Your own wounds lightly healing, leaving black and blue bruises in its wake.

He added a third figure, stuffing you full. His palm roughly hit your clit with each intense thrust. Your toes curled, stomach tensing. You could feel your release emerging, and he could tell. "Go on," He moaned. "Don't hold back."

Your legs clamped around his hips as your pleasure reached its peek. Throwing your head back you loudly moaned into the abyss of the dark room. Your release hitting like a truck as you shivered.

All For One laughed as he licked his fingers clean, both groaning from the taste and the pain shooting through his healing body. It was strange how his head tingled and burned as it healed. Arms wrapped tightly around your form, glueing you to his chest as you came down from your high.

As you sunk lower in his lap, sweat face against his chest, you could hear the light echo of his belt buckle being undone. Your pleasure foggy mind didn't follow the sound, only wanting to soak in his warmth and go to sleep. You squirmed around his movements until something hard rubbed your clit.

Hands gripped your hips harshly, lifting you up suddenly just thrust you balls deep onto his hard cock. You screamed and clawed at his shoulders, drawing a small amount of blood.

You never felt so stuffed in your life, his cock pressing in all the right places without giving you any extra room. His head pressed against your crevix, prodding at your womb. Your slick helped ease the pain but his massive size kept you writhing under his grip.

All For One's rigid breath echoed like a dark mantra to your pained squeaks. He lifted you by your hips and slammed you back down.

You strangled out a moan with each deep thrust. The hard cock jabbed your insides to make you see stars, your body warming up to the abuse. You gasped every time his head pushed against your entrance of your womb.

Your breasts bounced, the liquid between your thighs drenching his dress pants, and the friction between your legs riding you closer to the edge of ecstasy. He thrust his hips to meet yours as he lifted you up and kept pushing you back down with feverish force. Each thrust bumped painfully your insides, pushing farther and deeper.

"You're not a virgin are you? Has All Might fucked you like this?" All For One's tone changed from the usual mocking to seething hatred. "Has he marked you like this? Ravaged your cunt until he had you screaming?" He lifted you all the way to his tip and slammed you down hard.

The head of his cock pushed through your crevix and into your womb from his force. You shrieked from the painful feeling, but the sadistic sensation pushed you over the edge.

Your walls clamped tightly around his length and gushed liquid pleasure on his lap. The man loudly groaned when your walls sucked him deeper. He kept going, thrusting and pushing deeper, faster, and stronger.

The liquid from your body twisting his flesh back to its original state. It hurt like hell, you could tell as his large hands crushed your hips like grapes. Fat tears streamed down your reddened cheeks, sobs echoing through the mostly empty room.

All For One's thrusts quickly became sloppy, obviously chasing his own release. "He's been replaced, I'll fill you up and mark you as my own! He'll never see you again, I'll make sure of it!"

Hot ropes of white spilled into your womb effectively making you see stars. Both of you tensed and shook at the force of the orgasm. Your third climax tore into the last of your energy, making you pass out from sheer exhaustion.

All For One released his tight hold on your hips, eyeing your form with a deranged smile. Bruises lined your neck, collarbone, and hips. Your quirk would heal them a bit, but you would need time to allow them to fully heal.

The dangerous man, on the other hand, was healed to the point where he wouldn't need the breathing machine to live. He wasn't healed all the way, that would only happen after a few more sessions, but it was a start.

His gaze fell on your soft features, no longer perturbed by his actions and instead twisted into a delicate serenity. You looked peaceful blissfully unaware of what he had in store for you, not that he minded.

~~~

You shift in your sleep, scrunching your nose at some unknown pain down below. A plush pillow rest below your head, and almost acted like a chain keeping you down. Despite the comfort, you forced yourself to get up. Groaning, you threw off your covers and stretched out like a cat. Wincing from the pain and sitting up in the overly warm and soft bed.

You took the opportunity to soak in your surroundings. The colors were warm, a dresser parallel with a door on the opposite side of the room. Everything looked meticulously placed and expensive. The room was large and had a door off to the side, probably the bathroom, with a pair of sliding doors, most likely a closet, and an archway leading to another room.

You stumbled out of the bed and limped around the room. A mirror on the wall revealed what you looked like. Hickies littered your neck and collarbone, your once broken arm wrapped in bandages to help it heal. A lavender colored nightgown draped just above your still shaky thighs. You winced and lifted it up, more bandages around your bruised hips.

He was rough, that was something you could remember. You probably didn't heal him all the way either, that must be why he kept you alive.

You jumped and turned in the direction of some new noises. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room next over so you peeked behind the archway to see who decided to show up.

All For One slipped off his large dress shoes with his back to you. You could kill him, couldn't you? The man's back was facing you, all you needed was a blade or blunt object. You glanced around the room but found nothing, then again you had the feeling he already knew where and what you were doing.

"How did you sleep, (y/n)?" You swallowed the lump of spit in your throat as you gripped the archway. "Hm?" He peered over his shoulder, the sickening smile that haunted your nightmares stretching across his thin lips. His head was still mangled, but it was now healed into a large, clean scar.

"Why am I here?" You asked.

He turned to fully face you and stepped nearer, his bulky form looming over your frail body like a veil. His hand moved to your cheek, caressing the flesh in an all too intimate act of affection. "I think you already know the answer to that." He mused, dipping to let his lips graze the shell of your ear.

You shivered.

"You're mine."

#yandere mha #yandere bnha #Yandere all for one #Yandere all for one x Reader #Yandere bnha x reader #Yandere mha x reader #toshinori x reader #Yandere shigaraki #Yandere shigaraki x reader #yander afo #Yandere afo x reader #yandere smut #mha #bnha

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Of Debts and Stress

Mary Saotome x She/Her Reader

A/N: Mary is such a great character like wth. I hope I did her some justice. There is a mention of characters from Kakegurui Twin, but the story takes place when Yumeko shows up in the main series. Thanks for reading! Word Count: ~8,929 (Me seeing this number for the first time: HOLY SHIT what have I done?! No wonder this took so long lol)

“Did you see the look on that loser’s face when I laid down that royal flush?” Mary laughed, her lips curled in a triumphant smirk as she descended the stairs with (Y/n) following close behind. “To see the light just drain out of his eyes after he realized that his full house was trash was just priceless,” she paused a moment at the bottom of the stairs, causing (Y/n) to bump into her before the blonde turned to face her. “Well, maybe not priceless, I guess you could say it was worth 5,000,000 yen!”

“Mary,” (Y/n) began, rubbing the back of her neck and shifting her eyes to watch other students climb the stairs, “It’s not like I’m not impressed or anything, but don’t you think you went a little too hard on the guy? I mean, he’s a house pet now.”

Mary’s smirk sunk into a frown as she crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the banister with a huff, looking up at the girl who still stood on the last step of the stairs, with a roll of her eyes, she replied, “He wanted to gamble, it’s not my fault if he didn’t weigh the rewards with the risk. Don’t be such a downer (Y/n), you’re really killing my mood here.”

“Sorry, I guess I just feel bad for him.”

“(Y/n), it’s all a part of how this fucked up school works. If you don’t like it, then why the hell did you even apply?” Mary threw her arms up in aggravation.

“Hey, do you think you two could move? You’re blocking half the staircase.” a student called impatiently from behind (Y/n).

“Can’t you see we’re talking here?” Mary glared at a spot above (Y/n)’s head, “Just go around us, idiot!”

The student grumbled, but clumsily made his way through the students that were walking up the stairwell.

“Maybe we should keep walking,” (Y/n) smiled sheepishly, crooking one of her arms with Mary’s and pulling her away from the stairs and towards the school entrance.

“Hey, let go!” Mary pushed out of the hold, blushing furiously, before clearing her throat and giving (Y/n) a side glance as the other girl laughed good-naturedly. “You haven’t gambled yet today, shouldn’t you have at least one match to make sure you don’t fall behind in the rankings?”

“I don’t feel like gambling today,” (Y/n) shrugged, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You better get your act together or you’ll end up a mittens,” Mary warned.

“Sorry I’m not into high stakes gambles. I’d rather win a little at a time than blow it all away on one game,” (Y/n) explained.

“Ha, that new poochie should have taken a page out of your book,” Mary grinned, but sobered quickly, “But seriously, don’t fall too far behind or I’ll have to leave you to the dogs, got it?” She punctuated her words with a sharp poke to (Y/n)’s chest.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I get it!” (Y/n) sighed, and rubbed the sore spot.

“And if you need any, you know, help, with your gambles tomorrow I wouldn’t be adverse to it,” Mary added, pretending to look disinterested and aloof.

“Aww Mary, are you saying you’d cheat for me? I’m touched,” (Y/n) smiled.

“I’ve changed my mind. You are on your own,” Mary glared and snarled beneath the blush that dusted her cheeks.

“Damn it.”

“Serves you right.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” (Y/n) asked as they neared the dorms.

“I suppose,” Mary replied while inspecting her nails. “Meet me in front of my dorm at 7:45 or I’m leaving without you.”

“I’ll be there, have a goodnight Mary!” (Y/n) waved before disappearing into the Tsubaki class dorms.

“‘Night,” Mary called over her shoulder as she made her way to the Hana dorm building.

The girls got ready for the night in there respective dorms and went to sleep, unaware of the major upset that would greet the student body of Hyakkaou Private Academy tomorrow.

***

“Heard you have a new transfer student in your class. Do they seem nice?” (Y/n) asked Mary as they ate their lunches.

“She’s whatever,” Mary shrugged. “Looks like easy money though, I’m gonna ask her to gamble after classes let out. Just wait until you see me wipe the floor with that airhead.”

“Aw, I actually have a few gambles of my own lined up unfortunately.”

“Tsk, whatever, I didn’t want you there anyway,” Mary sulked, picking at her leftovers.

“Hey, you’re the one who told me I needed to watch my ranking. Don’t blame me for simply following through on your advice. If I finish in the gambling den before you finish your game, I’ll be there to cheer you on!”

“You better not, it’s a gamble. You don’t need to act like a mom at a goddamn soccer game,” Mary huffed. “That being said, you better show up if you finish before me.”

“Yes ma’am,” (Y/n) mock saluted then winced and leaned into the table when Mary’s foot knocked painfully into her shin.

“I’ll see you after class, dummy,” Mary smiled smugly, raising from her chair. “Depending on how much money this girl bleeds, we can go do something this weekend, my treat,”

“Sounds like a date!” (Y/n) cheered, narrowly missing Mary’s attempt at a full body tackle. “See you later!” (Y/n) giggled and ran down the hall towards her class while Mary yelled obscenities behind her.

***

(Y/n) was pretty happy with herself, having won six out of seven games of blackjack and earning a modest 50,000 yen. Of course counting the cards had helped her odds, not that her opponents needed to know that. Honestly though, they were probably doing the same thing. It always came back to luck in the end.

(Y/n) hummed to herself as she made her way up the stairs to Mary’s classroom. She looked up when she heard echoing footsteps descending the stairs and was met with the boy Mary had turned into a house pet and a beautiful girl with flowing black hair she had never seen before.

“Oh, hello there!” The girl greeted. Ryota seemed to recognize (Y/n) as a friend of Mary’s though, and grew more nervous, (Y/n) gave him a sheepish wave she hoped conveyed her sympathy or could at least put the poor boy more at ease.

“Hi, you must be the new transfer student,” (Y/n) addressed Yumeko, “I hope no one has been giving you too hard a time,” (Y/n) could think of one prominent figure in her mind that would do such a thing and was ready to do damage control if need be.

“Oh, not at all! I’ve never felt more welcomed!” Yumeko smiled and grasped (Y/n)’s hand in hers. “Jabami, Yumeko,” she introduced herself, the ring on her thumb lightly digging into the skin of (Y/n)’s hand.

“(L/n), (Y/n),” she answered in return, giving Yumeko’s hand a friendly squeeze before withdrawing. “You don’t seem any worse for wear. I guess you survived Mary’s gambling challenge then?”

“Ah, you know Saotome? Yes, I’m looking forward to her paying me back, I hope we can gamble again sometime, she was so feisty!” Yumeko grinned, “You should join us next time as well!”

“Perhaps...” (Y/n) answered distractedly. Why would she need to wait for Mary to pay her back? “So is Mary still up there?”

“I believe so, it was nice meeting you, (Y/n)-san!”

“Yes, nice meeting you too. Uh, see you around Jabami, Suzui,” (Y/n) bowed her head and made her way up the rest of the stairs to the Hana classroom.

The room looked like a mess. Lingering students whispered their gossip but (Y/n) paid them no mind as she scanned the classroom for a familiar head of blonde hair.

“If you’re looking for Saotome you won’t find her here. She ran off, probably went to hide her shame,” one of the lingering students voiced once (Y/n) looked over the whole room.

(Y/n) leveled a soft glare at the student before turning to leave. Okay so she lost, so what? No one’s perfect, get off your high horse. (Y/n) thought as she continued down the hall and peeked into every empty classroom she passed. She was about to text Mary when she heard a huge crash come from the last classroom at the end of the hall.

She yanked the door open and saw a few toppled desks and Mary slouched against the wall with her face hiding in her arms, propped up by her knees that were pulled tightly against her chest.

“Mary, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What happened?” (Y/n) rushed to Mary’s side and knelt before her, careful to give the girl her space. Mary didn’t care for being coddled.

“Fuck off.” Mary’s voice croaked, muffled by her arms.

“Come on Mary, talk to me. I assume you lost, how bad was it really? 300,000? 400,000?”

“8.8 million,” came the subdued reply.

“Wh... what?” (Y/n) swears she must have heard wrong.

“Don’t make me fucking say it again.”

“Mary! What the hell were you thinking?!” (Y/n) gasped, worry gripping her heart. “8.8 million yen?!”

“Shut up!” Mary cried, “You think I don’t know how fucked I am?!”

“What are we going to do, Mary?”

“We aren’t doing anything. This is my problem,” Mary roared, shoving the closest toppled desk away with her foot.

“You can’t possibly come up with all that yen on your own before the rankings are updated. I can get you like, 1,000,000. It’s not much but it’s a start, and of course I’ll stay after school and-“

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want your pity!” Mary yelled, shooting up from the floor.

“Mary, you’re my friend, you are important to me, let me help you!” (Y/n) flung her hand out to catch Mary’s.

“I’ll get the money somehow. Just stay out of my way,” came Mary’s cold reply and she tugged her arm out of (Y/n)’s grasp.

“Mary, don’t do anything rash! Take a moment to just think about this. Your debt is bad, but if you don’t keep a level head, you’re bound to end up with something even more unmanageable!” (Y/n) warned.

“Just shut up already! You weren’t there so you don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do now,” Mary moved stiffly towards the door.

“Mary, stop!” (Y/n) called after the hot headed girl. Unfortunately Mary continued her fast pace down the hall and quickly disappeared around the corner. (Y/n) sighed to herself and rubbed at her irritated eyes. Her heart ached for Mary and the position she found herself in, but she was frustrated as well. Why couldn’t Mary just swallow her pride and accept her help?

(Y/n) rearranged the toppled desks and left the classroom with a heavy feeling in her chest. Hopefully she could sort things out with Mary tomorrow.

***

The next day (Y/n) waited outside of the Hana dorms for Mary like she did everyday, but the girl was not in her usual spot. (Y/n) waited, thinking she was simply running late, but as more time passed it was becoming more evident that Mary was either not coming out, or she was already gone.

(Y/n) couldn’t find her in the school, and Mary wasn’t answering any of her texts either. Meanwhile Jabami was busy making a first year cry. Sure that student council girl was practically begging for it with how obvious her cheating was, but even (Y/n) knew a line had been crossed.

The next morning (Y/n)’s wait for Mary was no better and yielded the same result. (Y/n) fired off another text. She’s at least looking at them.

“Oh! (Y/n)-san, good morning!” An airy voice giggled happily.

(Y/n) shifted her gaze and suppressed a scowl as Yumeko exited the dorm waving excitedly in her direction.

“Waiting for someone?” Yumeko asked, once she was standing within a foot of (Y/n), closer than (Y/n) cared for.

“I was, but I think she already left,” (Y/n) replied, trying very hard to be polite and not snap at the other girl.

“Oh, then we should walk together!” Yumeko clapped her hands together. “If you don’t mind waiting a little longer Ryota will be coming shortly... In fact I see him exiting the boy’s side now! Good morning, Ryota!”

Ryota jolted and swiveled his head up before waving shyly at Yumeko.

“Ryota is going to show me around more this morning, I’d love it if you could join us. It would be nice to have the perspective of someone from a different class as well,” Yumeko spoke excitedly to (Y/n).

“I can’t unfortunately, my first class starts in ten minutes,” (Y/n) informed, surprised at the sudden added weight as Yumeko clamped onto her side and whined loudly in her ear.

“But I really want you to come, (Y/n)-san! Since you aren’t in Hana class we won’t get to see each other often. Can’t you skip your class just this once?”

(Y/n) could easily skip class, but she was not willing to do it for the girl who ruined her best-friend-kinda-maybe-girlfriend’s life. She was about to insist she had to attend class when Ryota swooped in.

“It’s not uncommon for students to skip out on classes here. The teachers don’t really care as long as they’re getting paid. So I’m sure (L/n)-san could join us, right?” He smiled, nervously shifting his eyes from side to side.

Damn you, Suzui, Ryota.

“Well, I suppose just this once I could humor you,” (Y/n) gave a half hearted smile before her eyes went wide and her hands grasped at the arms wound tightly around her neck, shaking her excitedly.

“Yes! Thank you, (Y/n)-san, I’m sure we’ll have a marvelous time!” Yumeko cheered, rocking (Y/n) and throwing her off balance once she finally let go. “Where are we going today, Ryota?”

“I was thinking the path to the Traditional Culture Club would be a good place to visit today. It’s got beautiful scenery, don’t you think, (L/n)-san?” Ryota asked, offering (Y/n) a meek smile.

“I agree, the surrounding vegetation is lovely this time of year. It’s one of my favorite spots on campus actually,” (Y/n) supplied, noticing how Ryota seemed to straighten a bit, looking a tad more confident.

“Sounds wonderful, we’d best be on our way. Maybe I’ll find a gamble to partake in as well!” Yumeko thought dreamily, cupping her blushing cheek with her hand.

Ryota allowed himself an awkward chuckle while (Y/n) subtly pursed her lips, bringing her thoughts back to Mary’s absence as the trio made their way through campus.

“Wow, it certainly is lovely here. I can see why one would like such exquisite scenery,” Yumeko commented once they made it near the end of the path. “Oh, and this must be the club you were referring to?” She asked, pointing to the pleasant building resting below the trees.

“Yes, the Traditional Culture Club,” (Y/n) perked up a bit as a half baked plan formed in her mind. “You know Yumeko, you might actually get the chance to gamble in there.”

“Don’t tell her that!” Ryota blanched before directing his attention back to Yumeko, “I mean, the president of this club is also a part of the student council! You don’t want to make any more enemies than you already have, right Yumeko?”

“Gambling! You promise, (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked, a predatory gleam formed in her eyes that forced a shiver to run up and down (Y/n)’s spine.

“It’s a very real possibility as long as  Nishinotouin-senpai is around. You could always drop by later if she’s not here,” (Y/n) answered candidly. Perhaps she shouldn’t be pushing Yumeko into the arms of danger, but she thought of it as payback for beating Mary so badly without even batting an eye or losing sleep over it.

“Ooo! I just have to go in, can we go in?” Yumeko clutched her hands together and bounced on the soles of her feet, a sight Ryota couldn’t seem to say no to. Not that (Y/n) could blame him as she also found the behavior rather adorable herself.

“Welcome to the Traditional Culture Club!” A member greeted the trio as they approached the door, “We have a match in progress already, but it should end shorty, if you don’t mind you can wait inside.”

“Certainly, we don’t mind at all!” Yumeko spoke.

The club member ushered them inside and (Y/n)’s mouth fell open in shock once she perceived the poor soul sitting across from Nishinotouin, Yuriko was none other than her dear friend Saotome, Mary.

“No, Mary,” (Y/n) couldn’t help but whisper to herself, “What are you doing?”

“She appears to be gambling, (Y/n)! She looks quite tense, wouldn’t you say?” Yumeko stage whispered back.

(Y/n)’s hands curled into fists as she stood by helplessly, watching Mary bet the remaining thirty-two chips she owned. Why would Mary do this after she told her not to do anything rash? (Y/n) waited, her breath stuck in her lungs as the dealer counted down until the reveal of the swords under the cup. When the obtrusion was lifted, (Y/n)’s eyes quickly scanned the board. There! A sword was stuck in slot twenty-two and Mary had bet six chips on it!

“But wait, that’s—!” (Y/n)’s hands flew to her mouth, unable to speak further.

“Twenty-two was a hit. Congratulations, Saotome,” Yuriko praised before her lips quirked further upward, “However, unfortunately for you, the judgement is death.”

Mary hunched over, looking desperately at the board while the dealer explained the penalty.

“Saotome bet six chips on twenty-two with a judgement of death. This requires the punishment of a loss thirty times greater then the chips placed, turning six chips to one hundred eighty chips. When factoring the wins on Yuriko-sama’s slots, the grand total for Saotome is a loss of 49.6 million yen!” The dealer calculated.

(Y/n)’s knees nearly gave out when she heard the final calculation and her heart hammered painfully against her chest.

“See her out, I’m done with her,” Yuriko smiled sinisterly, earning a pained roar from Mary as she was pulled back by standby club members.

“Perhaps you should go after her,” (Y/n) jumped when Yumeko came in close and whispered in her ear. “Ryota and I can catch up with you later, go take care of your friend,” Yumeko smiled and gave (Y/n)’s shoulder a squeeze.

(Y/n) barely spared Yumeko a second glance before running out after the club members escorting Mary off of the premises.

“Let her go, I’ve got her,” (Y/n) commanded sternly, pulling Mary away from the Culture Club members. She shot them one last glare before she turned on her heel and began dragging Mary away from the building. She only stopped once they were off the trail in one of the more secluded areas near the edge of the school forest.

(Y/n) tentatively let go of Mary and leaned back against the nearest tree, her chest heaving with shuddering breaths. What the hell now?

“Why?” She finally choked out, Mary’s fists curled at the single word and she had the audacity to scoff before trying to leave the forest. (Y/n) wasn’t having it however, and took hold of Mary’s bicep.

“Let go!”

“Why? So you can disappear on me again and rack up a 100 million yen debt?” (Y/n) spat, her grip tightening. “I told you not to act recklessly and you thought it was a good idea to go up against Nishinotouin?!”

“There was nothing else to do!” Mary yelled back, turning back to fully face (Y/n) and fisting her hand in the front of (Y/n)’s uniform blazer and pulling her closer to her angry golden eyes. “This was my only chance to get out of being a house pet, it was a risk I had to take!”

“I wish you would have talked to me! You know I only want to help you!” (Y/n) fought the stinging sensation building in her eyes and stood her ground.

“Oh really, how do you expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t see you being all chummy with Jabami and the dog in there. You know it’s because of her that I even had to instigate this match!”

“They roped me into coming along, it’s not like I had anything better to do since my best friend seemingly went missing yesterday, but it’s a good thing I came with them because it lead me straight to you.”

“Now what are you going to do, huh?” Mary’s grip tightened on the blazer, “Mock me like everyone else? Make me your own personal mittens and laugh with everyone while you tell me to do degrading things?”

“I’d never do that! You know I’ve never condoned that behavior, how could you think so lowly of me?” (Y/n) cursed herself as she felt a rebel tear escape and streak down her cheek. She moved her free hand to wipe it away, but Mary released her death grip on (Y/n)’s now thoroughly wrinkled blazer and beat her to it, wiping away the tear with the edge of her sleeve with a tenderness that (Y/n) almost never witnessed from the girl.

Mary’s touch lingered for a few moments, her golden eyes searched (Y/n)’s own, still glossy with unshed tears that threatened to join their fallen comrade.

“Fuck, stop that,” Mary admonished quietly, turning her gaze away.

“Stop what?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, feeling exasperated and unbelievably exhausted.

“Stop looking like you’re going to cry, damnit!” Mary exhaled sharply and pushed her bangs back, “I’m the one with the 50 million yen debt for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes, but you’re my closest friend Mary! You mean more to me then you’ll probably ever know and I’m so scared for you!” (Y/n) couldn’t hold the floodgates any longer, finally she allowed the the tears of stress fall in earnest. She released her hold on Mary’s bicep and rubbed her face roughly with her sleeve while trying to force the tears to stop.

“Quit that,” Mary ordered awkwardly, pulling (Y/n)’s arm away from her face, “You’ll just further irritate your skin.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to look like a hot mess?” (Y/n) sniffed.

“Just come here you idiot,” Mary groaned, her tone lacking any of its usual bite as she pulled (Y/n) to the ground and held her with her back against the trunk of the nearest tree and (Y/n) somewhat nestled between Mary’s legs and sitting at a side angle.

Mary released an annoyed sigh and (Y/n) squeaked as Mary roughly pushed the other girl’s head into her chest and persisted with her hold, an awkward hug which (Y/n) eagerly reciprocated seeing as Mary rarely was the first to engage any physical contact. “If you get any snot on my uniform, I’ll kill you,” she mumbled, nevertheless tightening her hold.

They stayed like that even after (Y/n) had managed to calm down. They sat quietly together under the glowing leaves of the tree. The only other sounds being the rustle of the wind and the occasional bird song mixed with the mingled breaths of the two Hyakkaou students.

“What time is it?”

(Y/n) had almost dozed off when Mary finally spoke. She reached into her blazer’s pocket and fumbled with her phone, wincing at the late afternoon hour.

“School let out twenty minutes ago. Hope you didn’t have anything important due today,” (Y/n) sighed, showing Mary the time displayed on her lock screen.

“Please, that’s the least of my worries right now,” Mary rolled her eyes.

“Right...”

“Hey, don’t you start that again. It was bad enough the first time,” Mary scolded.

“Sorry,” (Y/n) sniffed and collected herself again, shifting away from Mary a bit so they were face to face. “How about I make it up to you with late lunch/ early dinner, my treat?”

“No way,” Mary tisked, “I can pay for myself.”

“I know for a fact you can’t, you broke ass bitch,” (Y/n) attempted humor, her lips forming the faintest of smiles.

“Way to kick a girl while she’s down,” Mary turned her head away in an attempt to hide the self deprecating smirk that had manifested over her lips.

“I’ll let you pick what we eat and we’ll call it even,” (Y/n) replied as she got up on wobbly legs. She immediately missed the warmth that had accumulated between her and Mary over the last several hours. She offered Mary her hand and her heart leapt when Mary accepted the help without a second thought.

“Fine, whatever I pick, it’s going to be delivery.” Mary said, patting the dirt off of her skirt. “We look like we’ve been lost in the wilderness for five days.” She added, approaching (Y/n) to remove a leaf that had settled in her hair.

Like before, Mary’s hand lingered, slowly dropping lower until it cupped (Y/n)’s cheek. Mary didn’t even seem to register that she had done that, given the far away look in her eye.

(Y/n) could feel her skin catch fire under the brush of Mary’s thumb and cleared her throat, causing Mary to jolt her hand away embarrassed and internally fuming at herself.

“S-so let’s head back to my room, yeah? We can get cleaned up and watch some movies, just forget everything and everyone else for tonight. We can continue worrying tomorrow.” (Y/n) proposed.

“Yeah, sounds good. I know I don’t want to go back to the Hana dorms right now if I can help it,” Mary shrugged, her attempt at appearing disinterested thwarted by her reddened cheeks.

On their way back to the Tsubaki class dorms, Mary grumbled something about not getting there fast enough and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked. Mary picked up the speed a bit, but really made no difference that would cut down the time it would take to get back. (Y/n) didn’t comment on it though, instead opting to hum and gently swing their connected hands as they went.

When they got within view of the dorms, and all of the students milling about, Mary tugged her hand away and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, but continued to move alongside (Y/n) with a cute pout over her lips.

(Y/n) held her student ID against the panel near the door of the lobby and opened the door, ushering  Mary inside. They took the elevator to the second floor, which housed the second year students of the Tsubaki class, and from there they headed to the girl’s wing.

When (Y/n) unlocked the door to her room, Mary pushed past her and flopped onto (Y/n) bed with a groan.

“Hey, You’re going to get dirt all over my comforter!” (Y/n) scolded half heartedly.

“Don’t care, I’m tired.” Mary smirked and took out her phone to scroll over dinner options. When she settled on one she tossed the phone at (Y/n) who fumbled with it before gaining a secure grasp over it. “You know what I like. You order while I take a shower.” Mary demanded as she walked away.  “This stupidly rich school did one thing right when it fitted each room with its own bathroom.”

“Yeah, feel free to use whatever you need in there,” (Y/n) said distractedly as she scanned the menu. “Oh, and you can borrow some clothes to change into. The comfy stuff is in the two middle drawers.”

“Thanks.” Mary redirected her path to stop at the dresser and took a crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of shorts before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

(Y/n) placed an order for the food. When she was sure everything was in order, she closed the app and her breath caught in her throat.

Mary’s home screen was a picture that they took last year that included Mary, herself, Tsuzura, and Yukimi-senpai in their maid outfits. She smiled fondly at the memory, a bittersweet feeling forming in her heart as she made a mental note to talk to Tsuzura again soon. Though she missed her friend dearly, she knew she was much happier at her new school. It certainly was a less stressful environment to say the least.

(Y/n) locked the phone and placed it on her desk before plopping down into the desk chair and reaching for the tv remote to open her streaming service of choice.

“Showers’ free.” Mary sighed when she emerged from the bathroom, a wave of steam in her wake.

“Wow, just how hot was the water you were using?” (Y/n) asked with a chuckle.

“I’m sure there is still plenty of hot water left if that’s what you’re implying,” Mary said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, go get cleaned up, you’re a mess.”

“Ouch, okay,” (Y/n)’s hand flew to her chest in mock hurt briefly, “Expect a text in the next ten minutes or so for when the food gets here.”

“Got it,” Mary waved her hand dismissively and (Y/n) walked into the bathroom with an armful of fresh clothes.

By the time she was finished, Mary had the food set up in front of the tv and was lying along the full length of the couch scrolling through movie titles.

“Find anything you want to watch?”

“Meh, this one seems alright,” Mary scrolled back up and highlighted one.

“The Gamble Hole?” (Y/n) quirked a brow.

“What, you got a problem with it?” Mary grumped.

“No!” (Y/n) objected, holding her hands up defensively, “A fine choice, I just thought with- never mind. Just move your legs so I don’t break them when I sit on the couch.”

Mary scoffed and raised her legs, allowing (Y/n) just enough time to sit on the cushion before flopping her feet into (Y/n)’s lap. Mary then handed (Y/n) her food and started the movie.

They sat in comfortable silence, only broken occasionally by Mary dunking on the movie. Somewhere in the middle of the film, Mary got up to toss away their garbage and when she came back she had traded her feet’s previous positioning on (Y/n)’s lap with her head’s previous position on the arm of the couch.

Mary’s eyes dared (Y/n) to comment on the change in position, but (Y/n) let Mary have her peace and simply carded her fingers through Mary’s loose hair while turning her attention back to the movie.

One movie became two, two became three, and somewhere in the middle of that they had curled up on the couch and fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

Mary was the first to wake early the next morning. She had heard the faint tone of her phone’s alarm from (Y/n)’s bedroom where she had left it to charge and she groaned quietly to herself before untangling from (Y/n) to go turn it off.

“Hey, (Y/n), it’s time to get up.” Mary spoke gruffly, coming back into the main room to shake the other girl awake.

“Noooo,” (Y/n) groaned, curling into herself.

“C’mon, get ready or I’m leaving without you.” Mary warned. (Y/n) appeared to have dozed off again and Mary crossed her arms tightly over her chest and scoffed. “Fine, don’t get up. I’ll just go to school by myself and try another official match. I wonder if Yumemite is back from her tour yet.”

(Y/n) shot up from the couch and grabbed the hem of the crewneck Mary had borrowed. “Please don’t do that for the love of god!”

“Then get up and get ready to go, dumb ass. I still have to go back to my dorm for a clean uniform so I’ll meet you outside of the Hana building, got it?”

“You promise?” (Y/n) asked shyly, thinking back to the last two days when Mary hadn’t waited for her, avoided her.

Mary rolled her eyes and ruffled (Y/n)’s hair, “I promise, dummy.” Mary gathered her belongings and made her way to the door, “If you take too long I can’t say I’ll be able to keep that promise though.”

“I’ll be there!” (Y/n) called out just before Mary closed the door behind her. (Y/n) stood up from the couch and quickly began her morning routine and got dressed in a clean uniform. She grabbed her school bag and made sure she had her phone and ID before heading out.

(Y/n) hummed happily, swaying on her heels as she waited for Mary to come outside.

“You look very happy this morning, (Y/n)! It’s very sweet!”

(Y/n) was knocked out of her own little world when Yumeko seemingly appeared out of nowhere and linked arms with her.

“Ah Yumeko! You scared me.” (Y/n) exhaled, a hand over her heart.

“I apologize, (Y/n). Did you have a good night with Saotome?” Yumeko asked.

“How do you know about that?”

“I saw her walking back earlier. When I asked her if she was with you, she told me to keep my mouth shut and mind my own damn business. She’s so expressive!” Yumeko giggled.

“Uh huh,” (Y/n) smiled sheepishly. “So, um, how did your gamble with Nishinotouin-senpai go?”

“Oh, I lost unfortunately!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” (Y/n) felt a bit of guilt grip her heart. “I hope it wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“I’m 310 million yen in the hole!” Yumeko replied seemingly unbothered. In fact, she looked... happy?

“Three... three...” (Y/n) couldn’t even get the number out of her mouth, instead she kept opening and closing her mouth like a fish, occasionally mumbling a three while Yumeko smiled at her.

“Why the hell are you still standing out here?” Mary asked, irritation evident as she tugged (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s grasp.

“I was waiting for (Y/n) and Ryota! You as well Saotome, I’d love for us to be friends!” Yumeko answered.

“I’d rather die.” Mary sneered and made to tug (Y/n) towards the school but the girl was still dumbstruck and mumbling to herself. Mary snapped her fingers and waved in her face before turning back to Yumeko. “What the hell did you do to her?” She glared.

“Hmm? I don’t think I did anything.” Yumeko held a finger to her chin as she thought back.

“Whatever, just stay away from us! Got it?” Mary pushed passed Yumeko, pulling (Y/n) along and causing her to stumble behind her.

“See you later!” Yumeko waved.

***

Mary dragged (Y/n) into her classroom so she could get her stuff ready for class before going to get breakfast in the cafeteria. Her desk was still covered in marker but it hadn’t gotten worse since yesterday at least.

“I can help you clean it if you want.” (Y/n) asked, apparently she had finally sobered after the shock Yumeko had given her.

“Don’t bother, it would just encourage them to do it again and would make the effort a waste.” Mary shook her head and opened her desk, surprised to see an unfamiliar, thin journal sat neatly in the middle of her books and papers. “What the hell is this?” She muttered, turning it in her hands. The words ‘life plan’ shimmered in the light along with Mary’s name stenciled neatly below.

“Isn’t that the student council seal?” (Y/n) wondered, pointing to the golden insignia on the back.

Mary opened the thin journal and scanned the pages, becoming more agitated as she read. What’s this about an arranged marriage? Children? What kind of sick joke-

Mary slammed her fist on her desk, making (Y/n) jump. “This is bullshit! They can’t do this!”

“Mary-“ (Y/n) reached a hand out as the blonde strode away from her desk, the life plan held tightly in her hand. (Y/n)’s hand just missed Mary’s sleeve and Mary turned once she stood at the classroom door.

“I need to pay the student council a visit. I’ll see you after class.” Mary spoke before turning back and began walking briskly down the hallway.

“Be careful!” (Y/n) called back to her, rushing to the door to watch Mary stalk away.

With Mary gone, (Y/n) had no other choice but to move on to the cafeteria herself. She grabbed something she could eat quickly before heading to her classroom.

(Y/n) groaned inwardly once she reached the door, Kiwatari was already there raising hell as always.

“Kiwatari, isn’t it a little early to be an asshole?” (Y/n) asked, placing her bag on her desk hook.

“What’s it to you, (L/n)? ‘m just playing with my pets.”

“Class is about to start and as class rep, I must ask that you refrain from harassing people getting ready for class. House pets included.” (Y/n) spoke resolutely, using what she called her, ‘Igarashi, Sayaka voice’ and gave a sympathetic once over to Tsubomi who stood with her head held low.

“Tsk, uptight bitch” Kiwatari muttered, giving Tsubomi one last shove as he made his way to his seat.

(Y/n) frowned deeply but did not intervene again. She would rather not be stuck on that pig’s radar by getting overly involved in his business. So, she held her tongue and waited for the teacher to enter in the next few minutes. However, just before roll call, the intercom system crackled to life and the voice of the student council secretary greeted the student body.

Igarashi had made an announcement explaining that an opportunity had arose for those who had debts to pay and those interested were to come to the assembly room for more information.

(Y/n) had no debts to participate in such an event, but she left with the small group in her class because she was almost certain Mary would attend the meeting, and right she was.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mary muttered quietly when (Y/n) came up to her.

“Well, I figured you’d be here when I heard the announcement. How did your talk with the student council go?”

“Shitty. Now be quiet so I can focus on what she’s saying.” Mary gestured towards the front of the room where Igarashi had just stepped up to the podium.

“Welcome students,” Igarashi smiled politely, “Our president has brought to fruition an opportunity that could very well change your lives as you know them. A gamble that could free you from your chains of servitude, or send you plummeting further into despair. Should you choose to compete, the game of choice will be ten rounds of Indian Poker. You will be divided into groups of four. Each person’s chip’s worth will depend on their accumulated debt. You may place whatever amount of debt you wish to wager with on your provided card. We look forward to your participation in the Great Debt Swapping Game.”

“Ooo, this should be a lot of fun!”

Mary and (Y/n) jumped as a head popped between them and an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders.

“Get the hell off me!” Mary growled, pushing Yumeko off. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Oh, did (Y/n) not tell you? I’m over 300 million yen in debt!” Yumeko cheered.

“As if I care, you know-“ Mary paused and did a double take at Yumeko, “Did you just say— Fuck you!” Mary turned back towards to front absolutely seething.

“Awww why is Saotome mad at me, (Y/n)?” Yumeko pouted and hung off the other girl while (Y/n) struggled to escape her grasp.

“My best guess would be she’s pissed that you beat her and put her in debt and then not even three days later you lost, and lost badly at that. Mary is probably taking that as a severe insult to not only her gambling skill, but also her pride.” (Y/n) said thoughtfully.

“I could do without the analysis, (Y/n)!”

“I found that quite helpful and I feel closer to Saotome for it, thank you (Y/n)!” Yumeko smiled sweetly at (Y/n) before directing her attention back to Mary. “Don’t feel bad Saotome, had an outside party not gotten involved in my gamble, Nishinotouin-senpai would have found herself in my position I’m sure!”

“Do you not know what personal space is?” Mary griped, stepping away from Yumeko once again.

“The groups have been randomly set,” Igarashi’s voice rolled over the assembly hall once more and she began listing off the groups, “...Next we have Saotome Mary, Jabami Yumeko, Kiwatari Jun, and Tsubomi Nanami. The following group consists of...”

“Did you hear that Saotome? We’re in the same group! How lucky!” Yumeko invaded Mary’s space once more, smiling even more brilliantly.

“Of course we are. Why am I not surprised.” Mary moved to the other side of (Y/n) to put some distance between herself and Yumeko. By doing so she noticed the thoughtful, far away look (Y/n) currently held. “Hey, what’s up?” her voice was a little gruff but held an undertone of affection.

“The other people in your group are in my class. I can understand why Tsubomi would be here, as she’s a house pet, but Kiwatari has no outstanding reason to compete that I’m aware of.” (Y/n) shifted her weight and looked at the two Hana class students, her expression serious. “I may not know his plan, but I can almost guarantee you that he will be using Tsubomi as an accomplice of sorts to achieve his goal.”

“Oh my, are you sure about this (Y/n)?” Yumeko tilted her head.

“Kiwatari has been making Tsubomi’s life hell for a long time now. Her will has been severely damaged if not completely destroyed by him. She’ll probably do what he says because she finds it easier then fighting back. Which is why I think...” (Y/n) drifted off, her eyes moving to look exclusively at Mary who immediately let out a strangled, agitated noise.

“Alright, I see where this is going and I don’t like it but...” Mary sighed “You aren’t going to let me continue on unless I do this, aren’t you?”

“That would be correct.” (Y/n) nodded.

Yumeko kept looking between the two, her expression one of mild confusion.

“Jabami,” Mary finally spat.

“Yes?”

“Will you work with me for this gamble.” Mary gritted out.

“Oh Saotome! I’d be honored to be your partner!” Yumeko clapped, “Was this your plan (Y/n)? Thank you for making this gamble so much more interesting!”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Students began filling out the assembly hall to fill out their debt cards and (Y/n) looked over the two girls nervously. “They aren’t going to let outside parties watch these matches and I should really get back to class. You two should hurry so you can get your cards and come up with a strategy.”

“What do you look so worried for?” Mary scoffed, messing up (Y/n)’s hair, “You already gave me an edge over the competition, if you think I’m still going to lose after that you’re really pissing me off.”

“Don’t worry (Y/n), I’ll take good care of Mary-san!” Yumeko butted in.

“Shut up, Jabami.”

“I hate that you’re taking this risk, but I believe you can win. So I’ll try not to stress over it too much. You’ll come find me when it’s over, right?” (Y/n) asked.

“Where else would I go, dummy?” Mary rolled her eyes and turned away, Yumeko hot on her heels. “I’ll see you later.” She added, her words sounding much less harsh. Yumeko waved excitedly then turned to catch up with Mary’s strides.

***

(Y/n) was surprised when at her break, Ryota had come to her class looking for her with another student.

“You (L/n), (Y/n)?” The other student asked.

“Yes, and what may I ask is this about?”

“I’ve got a check for Suzui here. However it was also requested that you be present as a witness to the transaction. Since you’re here,” he pulled an envelope from his blazer and handed it to Ryota, “I can give Suzui the check. Have a good day.” The student nodded before exiting the classroom.

“What’s this about, Suzui?” (Y/n) asked.

“I wish I knew.” Ryota scratched his head. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Well, I guess you should open it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ryota tore open the seal and pulled the check out. It took a moment but once the amount registered in their minds, Ryota and (Y/n) both screamed.

“How the hell did you get all that money, Suzui!? Did you kill someone? Several someones!?” (Y/n) asked nonplussed.

“I- I didn’t do anything! ...I think!? This must be a joke, right? Is this a prank, (Y/n)? Did Saotome-san put you up to this?”

“No, of course not!”

“This can’t be real. I should really just throw it out.” Ryota sighed tiredly.

“Wait,” (Y/n) stopped him from crinkling up the paper, “Don’t do anything just yet. Keep it until the end of the day at least. Meet me back here and then we can decide what to do with it if no new info comes up. Just keep it safe until then.”

“Alright, I can do that.” Ryota appeared to be sweating. “Nothing stressful about carrying an obscene amount of mysterious money that may or may not be real.”

“If it really bothers you that much I can hold onto it until then.” (Y/n) offered.

“Please!” Ryota quickly shoved the paper into (Y/n)’s hand without a second thought.

“Alright, I’ll see you here after school, okay?” (Y/n) asked as she tucked the paper into the front of her blazer.

“Right!” Ryota answered, his shoulders slumped as the tension holding the check had brought left.

***

The rest of (Y/n)’s classes slugged by, the weight of the check against her chest becoming heavier with each hour dragging by and thoughts of Mary plagued her mind. Was she doing okay?

Finally the last class had wrapped up for the day and (Y/n) rubbed her palms roughly over her eyes. She felt exhausted.

A few minutes later, Ryota arrived and sat in the desk next to hers looking just as tired.

“So, what now?” He asked.

(Y/n) released a joyless hum as she removed the check from her blazer and looked over it again. “I don’t know. I did some research about counterfeit checks and it appears to be legitimate. I’m just worried about what this money could mean. You don’t just have this kind of cash fall into your lap for free.”

“Aha! They’re in here Mary-san!” Yumeko suddenly appeared in the doorway, a little out of breath.

“Yumeko!” Ryota greeted her happily.

“Yumeko! How did the gamble go? Where’s Mary?” (Y/n) asked.

“I’m right here, dummy.” Mary appeared in the doorway looking a little out of breath herself, “If you two didn’t make us need to run around the school, we could have met up sooner.”

Mary stalked over to Ryota and (Y/n) and she practically dropped to the floor in relief. “Thank god you have it!” Mary took the check from (Y/n)’s hand and kissed (Y/n)’s cheek without even having it register in her mind as she looked over the check before pressing it to her chest like a precious artefact. “I told Yumeko to just have it sent to you, but she insisted Suzui hold onto it for god only knows why.”

(Y/n) just stared at Mary absolutely dumbfounded, her hand that once held the check now pressed to her warm and tingling cheek.

“What? What’s with the face?” Mary asked with a quirk of her brow.

“I I I- You, um,” (Y/n) stuttered, unable to find her words.

“Oh, you saw the money did you?” Mary smirked, “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“You mean the money is yours?” Ryota asked, “That makes more sense now I guess, but how’d you get all that?”

“The Debt Swapping Game, of course!” Mary scoffed, “Honestly Jabami, did you tell him anything about what we were doing?”

“I saw no need to. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Yumeko smiled brightly.

“Wait wait, you won?” (Y/n) stared up at Mary with cautious awe. “That check is what you won in the gamble?”

Mary stared back, smug and looking oh so happy with herself. “Yeah, it’s the last time you’ll see me wearing one of these eye sores.” Mary tugged the house pet tag off of her neck and tossed it into the garbage.

“You won! You won!” (Y/n) cheered and shot up out of her desk. She wrapped her arms around Mary and bounced her around while laughing joyously.

“Hey! Calm down!” Mary blushed, and pushed (Y/n) by the shoulders to try to stop her jostling movements.

“This is fun!” Yumeko joined in from behind Mary, wrapping her arms around her neck and bouncing in time with (Y/n) who was still vigorously celebrating.

“Alright that’s enough, get off!” Mary elbowed Yumeko in the stomach and pushed (Y/n) half an arm’s length away. “A little space would be-“

(Y/n) cupped half of Mary’s face with her hand and landed a quick kiss on Mary’s cheek before pulling away completely. She continued to dance around the classroom, feeling heat run through her face and a rush of giddiness. Her smiling lips still tingling from the brief contact. Yumeko skipped with (Y/n) around the classroom, still happy to revel in the celebration that was dangerously close to becoming excessive.

“Hu... Hey!” Mary finally regained her bearings, her shoulders stiff and face red, watching (Y/n) and Yumeko make their way across the front of the room.

Mary’s voice forced (Y/n) to a sudden halt, causing Yumeko to bump into her, but she too stopped to look curiously at Mary.

“What the hell was that?” Mary glared at (Y/n), her arms crossed tightly over her blazer.

(Y/n) didn’t even try to act dumb, it would have been unwise based on how intently Mary was staring at her. “I, um, I was just returning the favor.”

“What favor?” Mary stared incredulously.

“Mary-san, don’t say you forgot already! That would just be cruel.” Yumeko pouted and pulled (Y/n) into her arms and pat her head affectionately. “If I were to kiss (Y/n), I certainly wouldn’t forget.” Her words causing (Y/n) to duck out of her reach to try to cover her bashfulness.

“I think I’m gonna go home?” Ryota looked over the three girls, his face plainly showed how weird he found the whole scene to be. “Uh, yeah, see you guys tomorrow.” He waved awkwardly before darting out the door.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mary continued, not even acknowledging Ryota’s exit.

“Mary, you kissed me when you took the check from me...” (Y/n) shyly pointed to her cheek, her eyes focusing in the opposite corner of the room from Mary. Yumeko hummed and nodded affirmingly.

“I did not I-“ Mary’s skin gained a few darker shades of red and she stood statue still and just as stiff, her eyes lit up as if recalling a distant memory. (Y/n) and Yumeko watched from the front of the classroom, waiting to see what would become of the blonde who seemed to be trapped in her own mind.

“I wonder if we broke her.” Yumeko mused, a finger tapping lightly over her lips.

After a few more moments, Mary’s head shot up, her eyes immediately connecting with (Y/n)’s startled ones. “Get over here.” Mary commanded, her voice tight and low.

(Y/n) gulped and quickly made her way to stand in front of her friend, not wanting to risk an impatient reprimand for stalling. “Y...Yes, Mary?” she asked, meekly.

“Closer.”

(Y/n) took another tentative step forward. Mary sighed and pulled (Y/n) in by the blazer until their noses grazed, eliciting a surprised squeak from the other girl. Mary tilted her head and kissed (Y/n)’s cheek again, lingering a bit longer than she had with the first one.

“Can I have one, Mary-san?” Yumeko called from her spot against the front wall.

“No! Why are you even still here, read the room and go home already!” Mary blushed, nevertheless keeping her hold on (Y/n)’s blazer.

“Oh my, are you planning to be more intimate right now? I suppose it is a little early in our relationship for me to bare witness to such displays. I’ll see you two tomorrow!” Yumeko hummed happily as she exited the classroom, pulling the door close behind her.

“Why did you have to word it like that, you fucking weirdo!” Mary yelled after Yumeko, but she was already gone.

Mary turned back to (Y/n) and released another sigh. “Do that thing again.”

(Y/n) stared at Mary inquisitively for a moment before realization dawned over her. She smiled and gently pressed another kiss over Mary’s cheek.

Mary took a moment to clear her throat after (Y/n) pulled away before speaking, “Thanks. Thanks for that and uh, not leaving me behind as a house pet.” She mumbled.

“Anytime.” (Y/n)’s features grew soft. “Thanks for letting me back in.”

“So listen,” Mary began, her tone made room for no nonsense, “First thing tomorrow I’m paying back the student council and then I’ve got to give Jabami some fair compensation for teaming up in the debt game, but after classes do you want to go somewhere, just us? Like we were supposed to do before Jabami ruined everything.”

“Isn’t it usually just us when we go do stuff?” (Y/n) chuckled and smiled innocently at Mary’s warning look.

“Hey, with Jabami and the dog- ugh, Suzui, always popping up these days, they’d probably invite themselves along. I’m just trying to cover all my bases.”

“So, it’s a date then?” (Y/n) asked, trying to keep her emotions under the surface as to not get her hopes too high, to not show her disappointment should Mary deny it.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

(Y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a date. Officially I guess.” Mary shrugged.

(Y/n) hugged Mary so hard, she nearly suffocated her, but Mary didn’t complain. Instead, she hugged back just as hard and hid her smile in (Y/n)’s hair.

#Kakegurui oneshots #Kakegurui x reader #Mary Saotome x reader #Maeri Saotome x reader

[a-simple-imagine]

New Student

Requested by anonymous: “I was thinking maybe having the reader be a transfer student from Ilvermorny and Hermione tutors her to help her catch up with the curriculum of the new school.”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings - Prejudice and brief mention of pain

"I understand that your family is of pure descent, correct?" You can't help but fidget in your seat; the vibrant pink of her office was making you extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention the gentle mewing coming from the plates that decorated the walls. It was one thing to love cats but surely this grew annoying after a while. You nod a little as you sit up straighter. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was currently reading your transfer file. Having once attended school overseas, you were new to Hogwarts but instead of arriving like everyone else you were in your fifth year of education and the term had already begun for everyone else. Of course, your father cleared this with the school ahead of time but it was still embarrassing arriving so late. Not to mention, everyone else had four years of relationships and you were now just some weird new kid. "I do hope you'll consider your friends wisely while attending Hogwarts."

"May I ask what you mean by that Professor?" That was the first question you had asked since stepping through that door and you were very quickly regretting it. The woman wore a sickeningly sweet smile as she lowered the file from before her face.

"As a fifth-year student, you will be expected to take your OWLs this year. Do you believe your last establishment has prepared you for your examinations?"

"I guess," you shrug. You'd never had any trouble getting good grades in the past but Professor Umbridge didn't look convinced. Scribbling something down on her parchment, she pauses for a moment to meet your eyes.

"I would suggest acquiring a tutor for additional support. I can arrange for one of your peers to meet with you."

"That's quite alright, Professor." You dread to think of the tutor she would assign you; probably someone very studious and strict. Boring comes to mind too. "You're much too busy to concern yourself with such a task. I believe I'm quite capable of finding someone on my own."

"It is great to see a young witch taking some initiative," Her smile felt more genuine this time whereas yours was awkward.

"If that is all, may I go?"

"Of course. Run along dear" Slowly rising, you wish you could actually run out of the office and never come back but you proceed calmly. Only stopping by the door when you hear her speak once more. "But do keep in mind what I've said. We wouldn't want you falling in with the wrong kind of wizards while you're here. I expect your last school taught you how to conduct yourself."

"Thank you for your time, Professor Umbridge." With a bow of your head, you slip out the door with a sigh of the utmost relief. She was a very... intense woman to be around. After one meeting, you had another but this time it was with your head of house. Having arrived so late, you didn't partake in the sorting ceremony; which honestly you were kind of grateful for. Having to be sorted with a bunch of eleven-year-olds in front of the whole school definitely would have followed you around. Professor McGonagall briskly glides down the hallway as you stumble a few steps behind. She was the head of Gryffindor.

"I hate to be a bother but Professor Umbridge suggested I get a tutor and I was wondering if you might know a suitable candidate? With having started a few weeks after everyone else and OWLs fast approaching, I thought it was best to be safe than sorry"

"Your transcripts from your previous school don't suggest you'll have much trouble but a tutor may be beneficial," The older woman glanced back at you with a warm smile. "I have the perfect witch for the job. She's a real credit to Gryffindor. You were in Thunderbird previously?"

"Yes ma'am. Thunderbird House was considered to represent the soul of a witch or wizard and favoured adventures," you announce proudly. "I've never felt like much of an adventurer myself though."

"I'm sure you'll be a grand edition to Gryffindor. I may be biased but we're the best house at Hogwarts."

"I don't doubt that," Although you had no clue about any of the other houses to compare. "If you don't mind me asking Professor, where are we going?"

"To introduce you to your new tutor. She's in your first class so I thought I would escort you."

"Oh," You scramble forward a little faster to keep up with the woman; falling into step. "Do you think she'll be enough? I transferred at such an awkward time."

Hogwarts castle was as big as you'd imagine which made the journey to your first class seem like an eternity. As you're led down the hallway and into the dungeon, it's like the atmosphere completely changes. It's dark and cold down here. She comes to a stop outside a classroom, you peer around Professor McGonagall to see students sat at desks with small cauldrons placed before them.

"Can I speak to Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks of the teacher. He didn't seem too happy about the intrusion but he doesn't object. After a moment, a girl with luscious locks of mahogany brown steps through the door; she looks worried.

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?" Her eyes fall to yours and you offer up a small smile which she returns.

"Of course not. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest student. She'll be joining Gryffindor and was in the market for a tutor. As one of the finest students in all of Hogwarts, I thought of you."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in response to the praise. "I would be happy to help, Professor."

It was becoming more clear that whoever this girl was, she was very eager to please. It was written in her body language or the way she addressed McGonagall. She introduces herself as Hermione Granger before heading back into class to ensure she doesn't miss anything. The nerves set in as you realise you're supposed to follow.

"A new student for you, Professor." Guess there was no turning back, you step through the archway. It was rather dull and dark but it matched the feeling of the dungeons. The shelves were lined with varying ingredients and while students had previously been working on potions, now all their attention was drawn to you.

"A little late for new additions," The man spoke slowly; he had a nasally sound to his voice. His displeasure transformed into a scowl aimed directly at you. The whispers of nosey students fill the awkward silence

"I'm-"

"Just take a seat," He demands and you didn't think twice about it. Hurrying to the first open seat you could find. "We don't have time for frivolous introductions."

Potions class had never been something you had struggled with but it seemed that the Professor - whose name you had come to learn as Snape - seemed to be making it as difficult as possible. Every question was thrown at you despite other students who will not be named being so eager to answer them. They were also specific questions such as where to find certain ingredients within the confines of the UK which you had no clue. You knew today was going to be a very long day.

Lunchtime approached and nothing felt more daunting today than being in a room full of students and not knowing a single one. You park yourself down at the end of Gryffindor table, food lined the middle and you grab a few sandwiches placing them on your plate. You're not sure if it's relief or something else when you spot the only girl you knew so far come to join you; followed by some friends.

"McGonagall gave me your timetable," She announces, sitting down opposite you. "and I have created a schedule that ensures we have enough time to cover everything."

"When did you have time to make this?" You wonder, taking a bite of the sandwich you'd picked up. It wasn't half bad.

"Never underestimate Hermione's ability to do a boring task," Next to her sat a boy with ginger hair; he wore a welcoming smile on his face that was peppered with freckles. "I'm Ron by the way."

The others that had arrived alongside Hermione, introduced themselves one by one. There was Ginny Weasley who was related to Ron; even if she hadn't told you it wasn't hard to figure out. Then there was the famous Harry Potter. A name you knew only in passing; rumours spread all around the world about him. Hermione slides a piece of parchment across the table. Along the top sat the days of the week and down the side were hours within the day. They were colour coded by type so each potion class and potion study sessions were in green and so on. Pretty much every square had been filled in with one boring task or another. "This is... a lot."

"Considering our classes this morning, you seem rather behind so I thought it was best that we take every opportunity to bring you up to speed," Having moved to England, the accent and speed in which they spoke was rather hard to understand but you don't bring it up. "We have a lot to cover before exams."

"I'm actually rather good at potions," you protest. "Professor Snape was asking me weird questions. How am I supposed to know where to find things, I've only just moved here."

"Snape can be a right git," Ron mumbles through a mouth full of food.

"You're from America, right?" This time it's Harry who speaks. There's a part of you that wants to ask about his scar but considering you've just met it seemed too rude to voice.

"Yes," you nod. "I attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry until my father insisted on sending me here once we moved."

"Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world." Hermione declares. "Or so I've read."

"I liked my old school," You'd grown used to the mechanics of Ilvermorny plus you had friends there. "Hermione, no offence, but I would kind of like to have a little fun while I'm here and this leaves no time for literally anything else? What about clubs or quidditch?"

"Studying is fun. What could be more beneficial than acquiring new knowledge," Hermione's expression is genuine but you can't see yourself thinking studying is the epitome of fun any time soon. "I will not let Professor McGonagall down by not preparing you properly. So that means hard work- we will start after lunch."

"Is she always like this?" You turn to the others.

"Pretty much." They all agree. Maybe this had been a mistake?

"So you're the new girl, huh?" A shadow lingers over you and you look up to the culprit. That vibrant red hair seemed to be everywhere, you frown a little before looking to Ron.

"Heard you came all the way from America." Another one appears beside him, a broad smile on display. Twins?

"They're my brothers," Ron answers the question before you can even ask. There sure were a lot of Weasleys in this castle.

"How many Weasleys are there?"

"I have six siblings, Ginny is the youngest. Bill, Charlie and Percy have already left though."

"I'm Fred." One of the twins announces, patting your shoulder a little. "The most handsome Weasley brother."

"I'm George and I'm much more handsome than that git," He shoves his brother playfully.

"You're identical twins,"

"No, we're not," George protests. "Fred here is adopted. I can't believe you think we look the same."

"I'm offended you think I look like this tosspot, I'm much prettier." He dramatically pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder.

"We can show you around if you like?" They both offer; as bad as it sounds you knew you were gonna struggle remembering who was who.

"We know every corner of this place." Fred declares

"Every nook and cranny." George continues. "We also the guys to go to if you ever need anything- think fanged frisbees or puking pastels. We've got you covered."

"Uh..." Glancing to your timetable, you hold it up for them to see. "I don't think I'll have time for a tour between classes and study sessions."

"Shame."

"Guess we'll see you around then, Miss America." They both leave you alone to finish your lunch. 

Written down Hermione's schedule was a lot but attending sessions was ten times worse.  The constant studying was exhausting; how she was able to just keep going was crazy but impressive. Today was Arithmancy study in the Gryffindor common room. You were sat beside Hermione at the desk; sketching her side profile on the parchment filled with unfinished sums as she explained what she was doing. Every so often she'd look at you and you'd look away. Careful not to get caught staring as you perfected each delicate line that made up her face.

"And that's how you get fifty-six- see?" Hermione shows you her work, tapping the answer with the tip of her quill.

Staring at the answer didn't make much sense but neither did the working out. You hadn't been listening at all so you flash her a sympathetic smile. "I don't get it,"

"Are you even paying attention?" Her brow crinkled; her quill falling to the desk.

"Yes-"

"Let's see your work then?" Before she can grab it, you drag your parchment away. Smothering the contents with the palms of your hands.

"No."

"Show me." She requested firmly. Eyes narrowing in on you as if issuing a challenge. With a heavy sigh, you back down. Handing over your work.

"Fine. I wasn't paying attention," You admit with a shrug; leaning over the back of the chair to stare up at the ceiling. "Arithmancy is just so boring."

"You chose to take it,"

"My parents forced me to take it," You correct, glancing back at her. Taking your parchment between her fingers, it's hard to miss the rush of colour that floods her pale cheeks. You didn't think your drawing was that good; definitely not even close to some of your other work. If anything you were embarrassed by how bad it was.

"It's pretty rough like I could do better if I had more time and my pencils" Drawing provided you with a distraction when it was most needed. You'd only started a year ago but it quickly developed into your hobby of choice. Learning to sketch people had been tough but after spending pretty much every class, staring at your fellow students you had gotten decent at it.

"It's..." Hermione trails off, handing back your work. "Can you please focus?"

"We've been at this for hours." A long groan leaves your throat as you slump down in your seat. Arms folded over your chest.

"Just a few more questions before we finish,"

You were finally growing used to your life at Hogwarts. Most of your time was spent with Hermione but you did manage to convince her to ease up a little. She grew busy with a club or something so she was more than happy to leave you to your own devices.

"You wanted to see me, Professor," you announce, entering the pink lion's den. It was somehow looking even pinker than the last time you stepped foot in here.

"Ah yes, please do take a seat. I'll be just a moment." Dropping your bag down beside the chair, you sit in the seat she signalled to. There wasn't a lot of time before you were supposed to meet Hermione to practice some charms. After a moment, Professor Umbridge speaks up. "Do you know why I've asked to see you?"

You shake your head slowly.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first arrived?"

"To get a tutor? I don't believe I'm falling behind in my classes." Hermione had been a great teacher overall; ensuring you understand everything before moving on although Snape still had a habit of asking you questions you didn't know. Was this about that?

"I'm referring to your choice in companions."

"Oh," you swallow hard. You didn't know what to say to that. Since arriving you'd started hanging with Hermione and her friends. You'd also found yourself drawn to the Weasley twins on the odd occasion. "Uh... I can assure you I've made friends Professor."

"I've noticed," she didn't sound pleased "Professor Snape also mentioned that you've been a wee bit disruptive in his class."

"That's not a fair judgment-" The words leave your lips sharper than intended but fall short when you notice the crease across the other woman's forehead.

"As headmaster, you must realise that I can't allow you to disrupt the way this school runs. Therefore you will be punished." Other than getting questions wrong, you wouldn't say you've done much else wrong in Snape's class. It wasn't fair that you were being punished for something so trivial but speaking up seemed like a one way trip to something worse. "Don't look so worried. You'll just be writing lines for me."

"Writing lines," you repeat cautiously. That seemed easy enough before you could reach into your bag, a quill and piece of parchment are placed before you. "What do you want me to write?"

"I must not fraternise with muggle-borns,"

"What does that have to do with Snape's class?" You wonder.

"Just do as your told," Umbridge quips quickly. "I do believe you've been seen around the castle with Miss Granger, correct?"

"Hermione?" You hardly believed Hermione had done anything to step out of line. Plus what did that have to do with anything? You were allowed to be friends with whoever you wanted. "Of course she is my tutor after all."

"It seems it may be more than that," Umbridge's sickeningly sweet giggle fills the office. "Now please begin."

"You haven't given me any ink?"

Striding behind her desk, she takes a seat and offers a smile. "You won't need any,"

Picking up the quill, you twist it between your fingers trying to figure out its secrets. It was black in colour, long, thin, and looked to be extremely sharp. Clearly, it was an enchanted quill if it didn't need ink. The tip glides across the paper with ease, gracing its surface with the ridiculous phrase you'd been forced to write in shiny red ink. How many times was she expecting you to do this? Hermione wouldn't be happy if you turned up late to one of your study sessions... again. A weird tingling spilt through the back of your hand before transforming into a sharp pain as you write the phrase a second time. Each letter appeared on your hand as you write it as if etched there by a scalpel. You drop the quill and the words slowly fade away but not without leaving your hand red. "Keep writing," Umbridge draws your attention, peering over from behind her teacup. You take a deep breath and write I must not fraternize with muggle-borns, the searing pain returned to your hand as you saw the phrase carved into your skin. You flex your hand as if that would relieve the pain but again the wound heels over. You no longer stopped between each line, the burning in your hand now a constant but it seemed after so many times the phrase was no longer fading. The hand on your shoulder startles you; the quill slipping from your grip.

"I think that's enough, you're free to go." Grabbing your bag, you leap out of your seat and rush for the door. "As a witch of your social standing, you should know better."

Head down, you charge through the castle to go meet Hermione but your speed slows as you realise tears prick your eyes. Dropping down on the nearest bench, you bury your face in your hands. Surely that kind of punishment wasn't allowed?

"If it isn't our favourite American." Head shooting up, you spy Fred and George. After all this time, you were beginning to be able to tell them apart.

"Why so glum, chum?" Your eyes drift just briefly to the scar on your hand. The twins taking up space either side of you.

"It's nothing- I'm fine."

"If you're fine, why are you crying?" Fred puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not crying," but you have to wipe your cheeks to make sure. "I just..." you couldn't explain why you were so upset. Your thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Oh- it's no so bad," Fred squeezes your arm gently, they must have figured it out. "It'll fade soon enough."

"And it doesn't hurt very long, look." George shows you the back of his hand, you can't even read what it was supposed to have said. It doesn't make you feel better. "Don't cry, she's not worth it."

"Can you two leave me alone?"

"Nope," George's thumb brushes away a stray tear before tapping you on the end of your nose. You couldn't help but smile a little as you scrunched up your nose.

"We don't leave pretty sad girls alone in corridors to cry." Fred insists. "How about you show us what she had you write?"

Unsure about the decision, you let the two of them see what Umbridge had done. George takes hold of your hand, inspecting it carefully. "I must not fraternize with muggle-borns," George reads out quietly. "Do much fraternizing do you?"

"I don't even know any muggle-borns," Is all you say in response. Muggle was such a dumb word.

"Uh... Hermione? Aren't you two like best friends," Fred comments

"Hermione is No-Maj-born?" So that was why Umbridge had seemed so interested in your relationship. It was clear she held prejudice against No-Majs so it was only logical that she was trying to keep you, a pure-blood wizard, from mixing with Hermione, A no-maj-born.

"No-maj?" George questions

"Right, no-maj stand for no magic? You call em muggles." You sniffle, drying your cheeks properly.

"Ah no-maj." they both repeat.

Feeling a little better the twins escort you to your courtyard for your session with Hermione. She was packing up her textbook when she finally notices you. 0What did I tell you about punctuation? I will not tolerate sitting around here like a fool- if you do not wish to take your studies seriously then don't bother asking me to tutor you at all." The fire behind her eyes brings you to tears only this time they were hot and fast. Spilling down your face as a result of being yelled at. Hermione's expression drops, your tears extinguishing the fire. "I- Uh... sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I-It's alright," With the sleeve of your cardigan, you try to wipe away all evidence of your breakdown.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"Umbridge," You don't even try to conceal it now. "I don't think she likes that we're hanging out."

"I'm sorry she did that to you," She takes your hand in hers, her fingertip dancing delicately over your scar. It was ripe to the touch causing you to flinch a little; pulling your hand away. "You should tell your parents."

"And cause more trouble?" Was she crazy? "I don't want to give her any more reason to drag me into the office again."

"Then... if you don't wish to continue our study sessions, I would understand. I don't want to get you into trouble." Hermione fidgets with the strap of her bag, unable to look you in the eye. It was probably the smartest choice to never hang out with Hermione again. It would certainly save you from future punishments but if you did that you'd undoubtedly miss her. She'd become such a constant In your life, you could imagine it without her in it.

"I like our sessions together," You declare, offering her the warmest smile you could muster. "Can we skip today though? My hand stings and I'm really not in the mood anymore."

"Sure," Her smile looks almost sad in comparison. "Should we go get some dinner?" 

Finishing up packing, the two of you head for the great hall. There was no way Umbridge was gonna dictate who you can be friends with even if it meant more punishment.

Christmas approaches fast and brought with it a merry aura that filled every inch of the castle. You linger in the courtyard with your suitcase waiting for Hermione. She promised to meet you before you left but had a commitment to attend to first. You don't question her but you do wish she'd hurry up; it was awfully cold out here. It's a miracle when she finally shows up, a bright smile as she approaches

"I just wanted to give you this before I go." Digging through your pockets, you produce a folded up piece of paper; taking a few steps closer.

"What is it?"

"Open it," The nerves settled in your stomach as she unfolded the paper. This time, using your pencils, you'd manage to create an almost collage of sketches. Each one of the girl who stood next to you right now during different times in the past month. It seemed like a nice little farewell gift. "Have a good break, yeah?"

"These are... you're really good." Hermione meets your soft gaze. Her face pink in colour but that may have been due to the cold. "Thank you." She wears a small, embarrassed smile. "When did you have time to draw these?"

"Never underestimate my ability to avoid my responsibilities and draw pretty girls instead," you tease. Leaning toward you place a kiss against her cheek before pointing to the address you'd written on the bottom. "Write to me."

#Hermione Granger #Hermione Granger x reader #Hermione x reader #Harry potter #hermione granger imagine

[cozy-the-overlord]

Just One Last Word

Summary: As children, she swore she'd become the greatest author in all of Asgard. Loki had his doubts.

Word Count: 4,360

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: Look who's back! I got this idea from a made-up fic title sent to me by an anon a while back and I just loved the concept so much I had to write it. What can I say? I’m a glutton for childhood romance and angst

Thanks for reading! :)

Warnings: Implied/referenced domestic violence/child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

The first time Loki heard about Sága’s extraordinary book was the day Lady Gudrun decided that the spring weather was just too lovely to ignore and took her literature students to give them their lessons in the gardens rather than the stuffy palace classrooms. He couldn’t quite recall what year they were—childhood seemed so long ago that all of his primary classes had melted into one amorphous blur—but they had to have been young because Sága hadn’t yet chopped off both her braids in the middle of arithmetic, claiming that they were too heavy to think properly whilst wearing them. No, her braids still hung at her shoulders, and as Lady Gudrun read aloud to them on the lawn, Sága was busy weaving dandelion flowers into their intricate patterns.

“This is going in my book!” she whispered to Loki with a grin. “In my book, all the girls wear dandelions in their hair.”

Loki frowned. “What book?”

“The one I’m writing,” she said, fiddling with another flower stem. “It’s going to be the best book in all of Asgard.”

He had been going to say that there was no way in all the realms she was capable of writing the best book in all of Asgard, but then Lady Gudrun asked them if there was something they wanted to share with the rest of their classmates, since they seemed to be having such an intriguing conversation by themselves, and Loki had shaken his head, blushing. Sága wasn’t bothered. She kept playing with her dandelions and humming softly to herself, some horrifically out of tune melody Loki was almost positive she was just making up as she went along.

Sága Svanhilddottir was a strange girl. One day she had just plopped her bulging crocheted bookbag onto the desk next to his, and she never really went away. There were plenty of whispers about her—her mother was an Asgardian noble who had run away to Alfheim to marry a man in the Elvish court, only to return nine years later with a child in her arms and no husband to be found. At dinner, Loki would overhear the noblewomen’s hushed speculations on what could possessed her to leave in the first place, and what prompted her return. How had the Elf bewitched her so? A love potion? A spell? Had she gotten with child and fled to preserve her dignity? But then why return? Was he unfaithful? Was she unfaithful?

Sága had her own story. She told Loki very seriously before class one day that her mother had come back to Asgard because her father had been turned into a dragon by a wicked witch and now every time he sneezed he spat out enormous balls of fire into the air, and that her mother was afraid that the next time he caught a cold he’d burn the whole apartment down. She pulled down her dress sleeve to show Loki her burn scar, angry red flesh that stretched from her wrist all the way across her shoulders—a scar, she explained, she had gotten when she had tried to give her dragon father a handkerchief.

Loki didn’t believe her.

“Witches don’t turn people into dragons,” he bristled. “My mother’s a witch, and she would never turn anyone into a dragon.”

“That’s because your mother’s a nice witch,” Sága explained impatiently. “This was a mean old witch, with pointy teeth and spiky hair, who hated everybody.” Ruffling her shorn locks (this was after the ill-fated math lesson), she bared her teeth in demonstration. “She was mad at my father because he forgot to bring her mousetail pudding for her birthday like he promised.”

“He—what?”

But Sága only waved him off dismissively. “You’ll have to read my book,” she said. “I explain it all there.”

Oh, that damn book. It seemed like it was the only thing she ever talked about, this stupid, imaginary book. Because it had to be imaginary. Loki had never even seen the girl hold a pen, let alone write a sentence. No, she was too busy prattling on about her wonderous book, this book that would one day become the pinnacle of Asgardian literature.

“Someday, they’ll be making students read my book instead of this nonsense,” she’d whisper to Loki as their teacher read to them in the front of the classroom. “It’ll be much more interesting.”

Or when he ran into her in the library, and she’d drag him to the shelf where they kept all the classics.

“This is where they’ll keep my book!” she’d grin, having the audacity to pat the dusty wood where the great authors of millennia long past rested.

And then there was that one time during one of the feasts, when he turned around to find her staring at him intently from across the ballroom, a studious expression on her face. He shot what he hoped was an intimidating glare at her, but she only skipped across the room to join him.

“What are you doing?” he asked sourly.

“Looking at you,” she said, grinning as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I need to remember how you look like, so I can put you in my book.”

Loki scowled. “I don’t want to be in your book.”

“Well, I want you in it,” Sága retorted. “And, since I’m the author, that’s all that matters.” She grabbed his hand and began pulling him towards the dessert table. “Come on, Prince Loki. Let’s get some cake!”

Thor said that he must be harboring a crush on her, to seemingly hate her so and yet be constantly spending time with her. Loki nearly threw a fit when he accused him of such at the dinner table. He didn’t like Sága. She was strange and irritating and talked far too much and he wanted her to go away. He spent time with her because she followed him around, not because he wanted to! She was annoying. And weird. And …

And yet.

One day she wasn’t in class. Loki thought he’d be relieved—finally, a lesson where he could listen to the teacher without having to filter out her constant chatter. But … it didn’t feel right. It was too quiet—he hated the empty stretches of silence that hung over the classroom every time Lady Gudrun stopped talking. For some reason, it seemed even more difficult to focus without the familiar presence of his deskmate hunched over the table and picking splinters out of the wood with her fingernail.

The library was more of the same. Loki perused the shelves, gaze lingering on the spot Sága had claimed for her own. She was the only person he really talked to, he realized. Without her, the day felt hollow.

She was gone for the rest of the week. Her mother was gone too, and rumors began to fly that she had decided to take her daughter back to Alfheim to rejoin her mysterious husband. Loki couldn’t help but remember her story about her father the dragon.

Just when he was starting to fear she had left for good, one morning a ratty old crotched bag smacked the desk next to his before class started.

He scowled to mask his sigh of relief. “Where have you been?”

But Sága wouldn’t say. She only grinned at him from under her crown of dandelions. “I was working on my book. Why?” she asked. “Did you miss me, Prince Loki?”

Loki flushed bright red.

It was strange to think about now, with everything that had happened. At the time, Loki thought he would have fallen on his sword before he ever referred to Sága as a friend. And yet, she was not only a friend, but the closest one he had. She continued finding ways to spend time with him even after they graduated Lady Gudrun’s class—she’d track him down and ask him for help with her arithmetic, or to wish him luck on an upcoming test, or to tell him about a book she thought he’d like. Thor and his companions drove Loki up the wall with their merciless teasing, but their words couldn’t quell the odd sort of fluttering in his stomach every time she came running up to him clutching some new story against her chest.

“Is it your book?” he’d ask jokingly, even as he took the novel from her hands.

“No,” she laughed. “I’m still working on that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

Sága patted his shoulder, still grinning. “Don’t worry,” she said. “When I’m done, you’ll be the first to read it.”

She was pretty. Loki wasn’t quite certain when that happened. Sága didn’t really change all that much, even as everyone else grew and morphed into something resembling maturity. She continued cutting her own hair, keeping it messy and uneven and even shorter than his. She’d weave dandelion stalks into the shorn clumps and walk around in gauzy yellow dresses with cuffed sleeves that went past her fingers, looking like one of her fairy-story creatures come to life. It was generally accepted that she looked ridiculous, and Loki didn’t disagree. He just felt that she made ridiculous look good.

He noticed it when she came down to the sparring pit to watch him practice with his daggers. There she was, perched on the railing, beaming like the sun as she waved at him. She was pretty. Very pretty.

Loki turned around without waving back. There was a heat rising in his cheeks that he wasn’t quite sure how to address. He missed the target completely on his next throw.

He wasn’t the only person who noticed. The other boys his age were beginning to be quite drawn to Sága Svanhilddottir as well, although Loki suspected it was less due to actual interest and more because of her proclivity for disregarding traditional decorum. She loved to dance. It seemed every ball she was spinning across the floor in the arms of some new beau, giggling so loudly that her voice echoed down the hall. Loki hated the way they’d hold her, gripping her tightly to their bodies as if she belonged to them, but Sága didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. She’d laugh and whoop and make a show of it as they twirled through the song.

It might have made her popular with the young men, but older members of the court weren’t as amused. After all, such displays weren’t exactly becoming of an unmarried woman. But Sága didn’t mind that they whispered things like “promiscuous” and “loose” as she walked by. Unlike her fellow ladies, Sága wasn’t particularly interested in catching a husband. In fact, she once told Loki in no uncertain terms that she had no intentions of ever giving her hand in marriage.

“Marriage is horrible,” she said. Loki could barely hear her over the ruckus—it was Thor’s Nameday Feast, and such a raucous celebration was hardly ideal for intimate conversation. He thought Sága might have been enjoying the festivities a bit too much as well—she was swaying on her feet as she leaned in to speak. “You’re tied down forever to some person, and you don’t even know what they’re going to be like! Sure, they might seem nice, but who knows!” She hiccupped, and Loki found himself reaching out to steady her without realizing he was doing it, accidentally grabbing the shoulder he knew to be scarred under her sleeve.

Sága brushed him off. There was a bitterness in her eyes that made his chest ache. “I don’t want to get married,” she said. “I just want to have fun.”

He walked her back to her rooms that night. He had started doing that recently—partially because with the way she was staggering he didn’t trust her to be able to make it herself, and partially because the voracious looks some of her dance partners had been giving her were making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up.

Sága grinned at him when they made it back to her door. The dandelions in her hair were beginning to wilt. One was nearly falling off her head, held there only by a tangled strand.

“Are you going to kiss me, Prince Loki?” she asked.

Loki started. All at once, the fluttering was back. “What?”

“You’re my prince, aren’t you?” She was swaying quite a bit, but she didn’t look away. Her breath stank of wine. “Aren’t you supposed to kiss the lady goodnight?” She leaned forward as if meaning to demonstrate, but ended up falling right into his chest, giggling all the way. Loki caught her, hoping she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

My prince.

“I—I don’t think it would be very princely of me to kiss you right now,” he whispered.

“Maybe not,” she yawned against his armor. “But I’d like it anyways.”

Loki inhaled. I’d like it too. But she was drunk, practically incoherent—she didn’t mean any of the words coming out of her mouth right now, and he knew it.

And so, he helped her back up and through the doorway. “Not tonight.”

Sága perked up. “Tomorrow?”

She looked so childishly excited that Loki couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Sure. Tomorrow.” Maybe he had had too much wine as well, because the thought of such a silly promise exhilarated him far more than it should have. “You come find me and I’ll kiss you.”

They never spoke about that night again. Sága didn’t seem to remember it—when he ran into her the next day she was nursing a headache and a new idea for her book and wanted to ask him a question about the mechanics of water seidr. Loki didn’t mention it either. The whole thing felt much sillier doused in daylight. What, did he think she was just going to knock on his door and cash in a kiss like a raffle ticket? No, it was better that the whole thing just fade into obscurity. Loki told himself he was relieved that Sága didn’t remember his promise.

It didn’t stop his thoughts from racing every time he saw her.

What would it be like to kiss her, he wondered? Would she let him pull her close? Would she wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair? How would it feel to press his lips to hers, to close his eyes and just drink her in as if she were the only thing that existed?

He wished he could find out.

Loki remembered the last time he saw her. Her father had passed away, and she and her mother were returning to Alfheim for his funeral and to clear up several issues regarding his estate. They weren’t sure how long they’d be gone, but Sága predicted that the legal affairs would take years to resolve.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to go?” she asked in a whisper the night before she was set to leave. Loki looked at her, huddled against the balcony railing besides him. Inside, the feast raged on, but in the moonlight the world seemed almost tranquil.

“I don’t think it’s bad,” he said slowly. “Funerals aren’t exactly joyful occasions. I doubt anyone ever wants to go to them.”

She was silent for a moment, staring across the gardens spread beneath them. “I was happy when they told me he was dead,” she said finally, voice hoarse. “That’s bad, isn’t it? You’re not supposed to be happy because your father’s dead.”

Loki wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t know much about Sága’s father—she almost never spoke of him, and Loki never asked—but he never could quite forget the stories she would tell when they were children, about witches and dragons and violent, fiery breath.

He inhaled. “I don’t think that’s bad either.” A part of him wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, but he wasn’t sure if that was right. “If he was a good father, you’d feel differently. But he wasn’t, and you don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

Sága only nodded.

The next morning was less somber. When Sága came to say goodbye, she seemed her normal, airy self, bouncing and bubbling over every small detail.

“Hopefully, by the time I’m back, I’ll have my book done!” she beamed. “And I’ll bring it back for you to read!”

“Well, in that case, I’ll be counting the seconds,” he drawled. Sága laughed, and he found himself gazing into her eyes. They were lovely, those eyes—warm, like liquid amber, brown and sparkling with mirth. He had never really stopped to think about it before, but she had to have the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

Perhaps he was staring too intently, because Sága had stopped laughing. Loki felt his cheeks flush. He was about to apologize when she threw her arms around his shoulders.

He was so thrown off by the embrace that he couldn’t really comprehend what had happened until after she had let go. It was a quick hug, spur of the moment and over as soon as it began. It meant nothing.

Still there was something in the air as Sága pulled away, something he didn’t think either of them had the capability to describe. She patted his shoulder, nodding as if in agreement with something neither of them had said.

“Goodbye, Prince Loki,” she said thickly.

He nodded too. “Goodbye, Sága.”

It was the last time he saw her.

Loki stared at the book on the table. He had told his mother that he didn’t want any more books—he was beginning to feel less like a person and more like a pity case with each shipment she sent in.

Enough with it! Just let me rot in peace.

And she had agreed. The flood of books had ceased.

Except for this one.

He hadn’t heard them come in to drop it off, which was concerning. Loki had always been a light sleeper, and that had increased a hundredfold by the time he had returned to Asgard. He wondered if they were drugging him.

The book itself was crisp and clean—freshly bound. He always used to like those books as a child, so new that the spine let out a satisfying crack as he opened them for the first time. Now, he was almost afraid to touch it.

The mossy green cover was unassuming. No artwork, no patterns, just the title and author in simple gold lettering.

Dandelion

Sága Svanhilddottir

Loki didn’t know how long he stared at it. The dungeons made it hard to keep track of time in general, but in that moment it felt as if everything around him ceased to exist. He couldn’t tear his eyes from it.

Damn. She actually did it.

Sága … when was the last time he thought of Sága? She seemed to exist in a different lifetime, a character in a story that had long since been shelved. He remembered her, though—a scrawny little girl on the grass, weaving yellow flowers through her braids.

In my book, all the girls wear dandelions in their hair.

He picked it up. It wasn’t particularly heavy, nor particularly thick—certainly nothing like the texts of old she had once proclaimed herself equal to. It appeared quite average, really. Maybe he wouldn’t read it. The whole thing was birthed out of a childish fancy, and he no longer held any appreciation for fairy-stories.

But who was he kidding?

The story was about a girl named Dandelion (Loki groaned aloud upon reading it, although such puerility was to be expected from an author who went about her days with weeds dangling from her hair) who lived with her mother and her beast of  a father off in some nonexistent realm, far away from Asgard. While her father had not the form of a dragon, he certainly had the temperament. He spent the days raging about their household, ranting and raving at every little inconvenience until he’d worked himself up into a violent frenzy.

Her mother didn’t know what to do. She was alone in a strange land, having forfeited her freedom to irrevocably tie herself to this monster of a man. She had nowhere to go, no family to turn to. And so she grit her teeth and took the beatings and the curses and prayed for a miracle.

Of course, little Dandelion was too young to understand this. She didn’t know why her mother cried herself to sleep at night, nor could she comprehend the foulness of the words that her father spat into the air. She had never known anything else. And so, every night she sat upon her father’s knee as he brushed out and braided her long, silky hair and read aloud to her from his rotted old storybook. Dandelion loved those stories, of monstrous dragons and evil witches who feasted on rats and tarantulas, fair maidens locked away in towers and dashing princes fighting their way through bramble-choked woods to awaken them with a kiss.

She’d dream about those stories as she lay in bed, writing her own in her head to drown out the crashes and cries ricocheting off the walls on the floor below her. In her mind’s eye, Dandelion could see herself as the maiden, nose pressed against the window as she waited for her prince to scale her tower and carry her to safety.

He never came.

But she was not long for this way of life. One night, during dinner, her father in a fit of anger overturned the candle on the tablecloth. The fabric went up in flames. They spread fast across the table and caught on Dandelion’s cuff, setting her sleeve ablaze. She survived—her father was quick to come to his senses and douse the flames—but her arm was badly burned. It was at that moment that her mother had had enough. She took her daughter and ran for it.

After a long struggle to secure the funds they needed, they were able to book passage back to her mother’s home realm. There, they found sanctuary.

She found something else there too. There, sitting in the very back row of the classroom with his head hidden behind a book, was a real, living, breathing prince. Dandelion was entranced—she had always thought princes to be some mythical creature that existed only within the pages of storybook. And yet, here was one right in front of her, like the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t seem very princely. He just seemed like a boy, a quiet boy who preferred reading to conversation. Dandelion would have never known him to be anything else if her mother hadn’t pointed him out to her.

But she was curious, and so when given the opportunity to choose her spot, she sat down next to him. He was a strange prince. He’d argue with her about the stories she told, but that only meant he was listening to her. He’d say he didn’t want to see her when she bumped into him outside of class, but he’d still follow her down the hall when she turned to leave. He didn’t strike her as the dragon-slaying tower-scaling type, but that was okay. Dandelion liked him just the way he was.

The story went on. Dandelion grew up to the whooshing of letters slipped under the door—her dragon father, asking her mother to come back, to come home, promising that he was different and everything would be all right. There were times when her mother seemed almost swayed by his sweet words—she’d sigh and say that it would be nice to see their family safe and back together again and stare off into the distance as if remembering something other than the screaming or the fighting or the burning, as if she had forgotten the way Dandelion would wake screaming in the night convinced she could smell her flesh burning. It sent cold shivers down Dandelion’s spine. She began tossing the letters into the fire before her mother had the chance to read them.

She’d turn to her prince for comfort. He didn’t know about the letters, but somehow, he made her feel better all the same. He was light and safe and everything she needed—she always seemed to be laughing when she was with him. And when he laughed—something about that laugh made Dandelion’s chest feel awash with a lovely sort of warmth.

She was in love with him.

But Dandelion didn’t say anything about that. She knew he only saw her as a friend—a silly, trivial friend who he could tease and laugh with without having to concern himself with the solemnity of his station. If he knew how she felt … she could lose him entirely. Dandelion couldn’t face such a prospect.

Instead, she danced with everyone but her prince, drowned herself in wine and spent her nights in the arms of any faceless man who wanted her, all in some vain attempt to sway her feelings in another direction. It only made things worse.

But life went on. Another letter came in from the realm of her birth, written in a different hand than usual. Her father had passed in his sleep, it explained. At long last, the dragon had been defeated. Dandelion was to return home immediately. And so, she bid her prince a friendly farewell.

The fallout of her father’s death was horrifically complicated. She was his legal heir, but she had also spent a majority of her life estranged from him and she found his representatives unwilling to hand over control of his estate to her. It was years before she could come back. And when she did—

Loki couldn’t bring himself to finish it. He knew very well what “Dandelion” found when she returned to Asgard—or more aptly, what she didn’t find.

You’re my prince, aren’t you?

He wished he had kissed her.

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #just one last word #cozy writes

[kpop-stan23-writes]

moonbin as a high school kdrama character

so i read this post by @milkybonya and was inspired!

group: astro member: moonbin genre: fluff word count: 3k warnings: mild cursing? pairing: moonbin x gn!reader (let me know if i missed something)

note: i have not spent any time in the korean school system, so the school experience in this will be kinda a mix of my own experiences in high school (the start of the school year in the late summer/fall) and what i've read up or seen in actual kdramas (like how the students stay in the room and the teachers move from class to class)

moon bin has been the top athlete practically since he could walk

basically a child prodigy in anything physical - swimming, basketball, track, you name it

as such, by the time he's a senior in high school, he's something of a local legend

so he's also kinda got a big head

also does annoyingly well in school

like

almost always sleeping in class or texting his friends or playing games on his phone

and skips out on the study sessions even if they're mandatory

but still manages to earn high marks

he participates in all sports, so very in shape

and always likes to show off when he can

like lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead

or will wear no-sleeve shirts at every opportunity to show off his arms

not that he really needs an excuse to show off

since he's on the swim team...

so

he's just being obnoxious at this point

you've just transferred even though it's your last year of high school

so you have no idea who this moon bin kid is

and because you don't really care about sports, you don't really care about him

you, of course, are in his homeroom and since you're new, the teacher makes you introduce yourself

you're only slightly awkward, because who likes having that many eyes on them, but it's quick and painless and now it's a matter of finding you a seat

of course, there's only one seat empty

and of course, it's right next to moon bin

the teacher asks one of the students seated in the middle-middle of the room to take that empty seat

you're quick to assure him it's fine, you're okay sitting in the back

he gives you a look, and so do some of the other students, because are you sure? you want to start the last and most important year seated next to the student most likely to disturb your studies?

but of course you don't know this, so you insist you'll take the seat in the back

moon bin watches with a smirk on his face the whole time

oh boy, he thinks to himself. a new student to fall in love with me

he leans back casually, balancing on the rear legs of his chair while lacing his fingers behind his head

it's still hot, so everyone's dressed in their summer uniforms, which means moon bin's shirt is completely unbottoned over his white t-shirt, which the girls love because it's definitely maybe just a tad too snug

especially when he's got his hands behind his head, like he does now

you notice the movement and notice his chest, which is barely straining against the soft fabric

you also notice that his relaxed, slightly bored expression changes when he notices you notice him

he smirks and you sigh; oh. he's that type of student

he expects you to grow flustered and blush and try not to look at his chest even though he definitely wants you to

instead, you scoff under your breath when you reach your seat and sit without another glance his direction

not even when his chair drops back to the floor with a crash, making everyone else turn in his direction

the teacher asks him what's going on and moon bin just chuckles and makes up something about losing his balance

once that's resolved, everyone goes back to listening to the teacher

but moon bin is sneaking glances your way while you keep your eyes glued on the chalk board even though you are very aware of the pair of eyes on you

by the time class is over, moon bin is sulking

because no one has ever not been interested in him before

and he's stubbornly not about to accept anything different now

which means:

operation make-[y/n]-like-moon-bin is a go

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

you catch on pretty quick

which makes you ignore him even more

which makes him try even harder to catch your attention

for the most part, you're pretty good at letting things just slide off you like water off a duck

but it's the first big test of the year in the subject you struggle with the most

it's study period, so there is no teacher in the room and most of the students are busy studying

except moon bin

because yes, he gets good grades without trying

but this subject, the one you're the worst at, he's the best at

so he takes the absence of a teacher to flick bits of paper at you

this isn't the first time he's done something like this

so he expects you to continue to ignore him until he gets bored and moves onto the next get-[y/n]-to-notice-him scheme

except it's been a long week

and you're stressing over this test

on top of the other class work for the other classes

so you snap

you're so done with this week that you don't even care you've gotten the attention of the other students

you just glare at moon bin

and he's so shocked his mouth falls open a little and his eyes widen

and he just...sits there

"jesus christ!" you finally exclaim, slamming down your pencil and whirling around to face moon bin. unfortunately for him, his fingers were in the process of flicking another wad of paper your way and he can't stop them. the last bit of paper sails toward you and nails you right between the eyes.

normally, it would be funny and he would laugh and so would the rest of the class and maybe you would even fight a chuckle. but your glance is so dark and furious that he shrinks back just slightly.

"i get that you enjoy trying to get my attention," you say hotly. "but if you've been paying any attention to me, you would see that now is not the time to be doing something so juvenile! if it's attention you want so damn much, there are plenty of other girls who would be more than willing to provide your fill!"

the teacher enters the class for the next period just then and looks between you and moon bin. "is something wrong?" she asks.

"nothing," you say, tearing your glare away from moon bin to address the teacher.

"nothing," moon bin agrees, though his gaze is still on you.

the teacher starts the class and you dutifully take notes, the cold shoulder you're giving moon bin enough to make those around you edge away.

the school day is finally over and you shove your things in your bag in record time and storm out of the room, yanking the sliding door open with more force than necessary and then slamming it shut behind you so hard the glass pane shivers.

and so does moon bin. because even though you never really gave him the time of day despite all of his attempts to get your attention, you had always gone along with it. sometimes he could swear he sees a hint of a smile on your lips and a glimmer of amusement in your eyes.

but you had been right. for all his attention poured into getting you to pay attention to him, he never paused long enough to consider how you were feeling. and in retrospect, the signs were obvious. you had been arriving later than normal over the course of the week, once even almost missing morning check-in. there were bags under your eyes and when you were with your friends, you were quieter and didn't participate as much in conversation.

and of course he knew there was one class in particular that always gave you trouble. you sat next to each other, after all, and he would always sneak a glance at the grades you made on the quizzes or returned homework assignments. he would hear you sigh in frustration and scratch your head in confusion as you tried to work out what you did wrong.

moon bin worries the whole weekend, dreading monday but also impatient for it to arrive, just so he can...he's not sure what. apologize? offer assistance in class? he doesn't know; he's never been in this situation, never been so totally and completely in the wrong.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

the weekend crawls to an end, but for you, it flies by in an instant. you get to school early, rather begrudgingly, hoping the change of scenery would help you retain anything.

your movements are heavy as you trudge into the classroom, only to come to an abrupt halt.

because you're not the first one there

moon bin is at his desk

and he looks nervous

he's sitting on the edge of his chair, his leg bouncing up and down, his hands clasped in front of his mouth

you contemplate checking to see if the library's open this early

but he jumps to his feet and calls your name

"wait!"

you sigh and cross your arms tightly across your chest. "what?" you deadpan.

"i'm sorry," he says quietly.

you quirk an eyebrow in disbelief. "you're what?"

"sorry," he repeats, louder this time and looking you square in the eyes. "i'm sorry i was a jerk to you on friday."

you can just stare at him for a moment, trying to determine his sincerity. his face certainly looks sincere, but he's also a very good actor, if the way he can talk himself out of trouble is any indication.

in a few quick strides, you're standing directly in front of moon bin's desk. he startles a little at the sudden proximity, and then blinks owlishly when you lean your face closer to his, trying your best to read his expression.

"fine," you say after a moment, turning away and plopping into your seat next to his. "apology accepted."

he remains standing for another beat, feeling a little overwhelmed by your sudden closeness and then just as sudden distance. he slowly sinks down into his chair and turns to you as you begin pulling out your notes.

he watches you while you begin to pour over past assignments and quizzes, but then jumps a little when you whirl around to face him.

"if you're going to start flicking papers at me, i take back my 'apology accepted,'" you scowl.

"no, sorry!" moon bin exclaims, his eyes widening a little. "i just...well..." his gaze drifts to the papers on your desk and then back to you. you clear your throat, suddenly embarrassed by your poor scores. you turn away and attempt to shove everything away, but moon bin catches your wrist, to both your surprise.

you glance between his hand on your wrist and his face, and he quickly pulls away, his cheeks starting to turn a bit pink. he clears his throat and says, "well, i thought maybe...i could help you...with studying..."

and suddenly, it's a regular thing

moon bin, voluntarily, in the library

everyone's shocked

and the whispers and stares start to follow you around

but again, you’re new

you have no idea who moon bin is, don't know his reputation, what's regular and irregular for him

and you just think "about damn time he does something other than flex his muscles"

and he's surprisingly good at tutoring

you almost ask him why he doesn't tutor other students

but he's really only good because he wants to be of assistance to you

he doesn't want to be a burden

you work your butt off during those tutoring sessions, because you want so badly to conquer this subject that has forever been the goliath to your david

and moon bin has seen how hard you work in your classes

but he can't help but be impressed with how much effort you pour into getting better

even at a subject you hate and that has beaten you at every turn

moon bin, despite his sportiness and his bright smile, keeps a relatively small friend circle

and they are floored by the sudden change in moon bin

because he's never worked so hard to get someone to so much as look at him

and they realize before he does

before anyone else does

that he's actually falling for you

because he does more than just tutor you

he actually listens to you

like when you hear soft snoring coming from next to you one day in class

you glance over and see moon bin peacefully snoozing, his cheek resting against his fist

with a huff, you jab his elbow with your own, causing his head to drop dangerously close to the desk

you just meet his glare with your own when he whirls around to face you

or when you express your incredulousness when you discover moon bin has never been punished for missing mandatory after-school study sessions

what do you know, he shows up to the very next one and sits next to you

you think nothing of it, but can tell by the gasps and whispers that something major just happened

or you hiss at him to put away his damn phone

because the vibrating it does when he receives a text is distracting

or because his soft exclamations while he plays games is just plain annoying

when his friends ask him about his sudden silence during class, he says he got his phone taken away

when his gamer mates demand to know why he suddenly stopped playing during their usual scheduled battles, he tells them he got bored of the game

or he overhears you scoff when he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow of sweat, showing off his abs to the squeals of the other girls during gym class

he glances your way to see you roll your eyes and whisper to your friend

he frowns but never does it again

it's not until just before finals before winter break that moon bin realizes what his friends have known for months

he likes you

like, actually likes you

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

it starts when you don't show up by morning roll call

if there's one thing moon bin has discovered about you

(like there's only one thing)

you hate being late

hate it to the point that you get anxious if you can't get to school at least fifteen minutes before first bell

it's not until midday that he overhears someone say that you've caught a bad bug

he immediately worries for you, since the teachers have been giving out even more study material to prepare everyone for finals

after school, he goes up to the teachers' office and quietly asks if he can get a copy of all the extra handouts

when asked why, he says he dropped his in the locker room and got them all wet

the teachers clearly don't believe him but give him the handouts he requests

then he's tracking down your friends

at first he considers dropping them off himself

but instead just shove the papers in your friend's hands and turns away without a word

that continues for the rest of the week as you miss more and more days

when you finally come back to class in time for the first day of finals, you march up to moon bin and drop all the handouts on his desk

he looks up at you and you just stare down at him

your expression is impossible to read and moon bin prepares himself for the worst

but your lips finally turn upward in a small smile and you give him a quiet 'thank you' before taking your seat beside him

"i don't know what you're talking about," he says immediately.

you snort. "please," you say. "did you really think my friends wouldn't tell me who gave them the papers?" he continues to stare at his notes. without thinking, you reach out and place your hand on top of his wrist. his eyes snap up to you and you say, "seriously. i really appreciate it. you didn't have to."

moon bin's heart is hammering in his chest and he wonders if you can feel his pulse in his wrist, where your fingers still lay. he clears his throat and just nods. you turn away, taking your warm touch with you, and you start cramming.

you have to wait a grueling two weeks of winter break before test scores are revealed

the first day of the new semester, everyone arrives early to get a glance at rankings

you make your way slowly to the bulletin board, heart beating nervously

you wait patiently behind the crowd of students, not super anxious to find out any sooner than necessary

you finally make it to the front of the queue and slowly find your name, listed alphabetically

and nearly faint from relief

because while you were expecting average-to-better-than-average grades for most of the subjects

you are beyond shocked to see that not only did you score well in the subject you dread

but your score is fifth best of the entire grade

you hear a quiet congratulations over your shoulder and you know without turning around who it is

because you have grown used to his soft tone from days spent in the library

you don't think twice before throwing your arms around moon bin's neck, a giddy laugh escaping your lips

"i couldn't have done it without you!" you say happily. "thank you so much!"

you pull away to get another look at the score, because wow you're excited

but moon bin catches your hand before you turn away from him completely

and he says simply

"i like you"

you grin and say, "about time you admitted it"

moon bin smiles back and asks, "are you free after school?"

"is the great moon bin asking me on a date?" you ask, raising an eyebrow

both of you ignore the gasps and wide eyes around you

"yes," he says without missing a beat, a wide grin making his eyes turn into crescent moons. "so, are you?"

"yes," you say without missing a beat, a matching grin making your eyes turn into stars.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

let me know how you like the format! part bullet point, part full writing

#astro #moonbin #astro scenarios #moonbin scenarios #astro fluff #moonbin fluff

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Welcome back, luvs ❤️ Glad to have you back

Warnings: mentions of marijuana

Word Count: 2876

—————————————

Two: Gotta Have Soul

“What was school like for you?”

“Like, a regular school day?”

“Yeah, like a regular school day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A normal day of school for me was like walking around in a glass bubble. This isn’t a metaphor for personal space, but rather the concept of fitting in. Clearly, I fit in at school, but not in the way I expected to. I could walk amongst my peers and smile in their faces, talk with them, but it’d be difficult to hear through the glass of my bubble. We could reach out to each other and hope for a connection, but our hands would forever be disconnected by the glass. But they seemed to be fine with it. They didn’t want to come into my bubble, they just wanted to admire me from the outside. And I supposed I was fine with that, as well. It wasn’t like I opened my bubble for anyone, even invited anyone inside. I let Dina in once and got paranoid. Paranoid that she’d take up the air, that she’d hate my bubble and what I’d have to offer within it. So, I did what I thought was best and kindly asked her to leave. Assured her that she could maybe come back another time, when I was ready. As the sweet and considerate person that she was, she had no problem with it.

Stan didn’t need to live in a glass bubble because he didn’t need to fit in. And I’ve never needed to open the bubble myself to allow him access. He was welcome anytime and entered as he pleased. He was the only person who understood me. I realize that we had more in common than I thought. No one understood our fashion senses, our tastes in music, the way we preferred to keep to ourselves. I could breathe around him and smile and laugh, I mean actually laugh. It was just a shame it all had to wait until after school. Stan and I lived in two different worlds at school. Sometimes I’d catch a ride with him if he left his house the same time I did mine. The second we would set foot on the school campus, we were strangers. It wasn’t that we were embarrassed of each other, I just think Stan was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. Hell, I was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. I’d much rather be walking down those halls with Stan, Dina, and Sydney (if she was comfortable with me). Luckily, I had classes with each of them.

I had nearly every class with Dina, save for honor choir and theatre classes. We found a way to sit near each other in every class we had and talked about everything and nothing for the entire hour. Half of my classes were with Stanley, and those hours were full of glancing at each other and playfully winking or blowing kisses. He’d pass me notes old-school style, but always avoided the route that would lead to either Ricky or Brad. We had a couple of run-ins that led to them teasing Stan before the note could even reach me. Study hall was one of the only times Stan and I would actually sit together and talk in school. Sometimes we’d study, sometimes we’d skip and go smoke outside. Nonetheless, we’d make the most out of our time together.

I only had two classes with Sydney and both included Dina, so there still wasn’t much going on between us at school. She wasn’t as active in gym class as we were, so it was a lot of her cheering us on when we played basketball or dodgeball. She was usually the person to hand me Stan’s notes in science, having to dodge Ricky and Brad’s grabbing hands so that I could quickly snatch it. Luckily, I only had two classes with Ricky and Brad, and they both included Dina and Stan. So, I was never trapped in an uncomfortable situation with Ricky before their eyes.

Science was the most chaotic class for me. Not only did I not care for the subject, but my seat was away from both Stan and Dina. I was nearly sandwiched between Ricky and Brad, which set me on edge most days. Despite this, I simply tried my best to focus on my school work. “And yes, during arousal, there is an increase in all sorts of things, including adrenaline and, of course, blood flow,” Mr File droned on as I wrote down notes in my notebook. Dina always said she thought it was cute how I used different colors for each day. Little did she know, once I started this system, I couldn’t stop it. This was to the point that I had to buy a set of pens for each class. I couldn’t use my green math pen for my Tuesday science class. “And the blood flow continues down and then gets trapped within the corpora cavernosa. The penis expands, and this is how the Homo sapien male is able to hold an erection. Yes?”

My attention was diverted to Bradley, who raised his hand. Once he was called on, he set his hand back down and straightened his posture. “From my experience, Mr File, the holding of an erection is far more successful in the hands of a Homo sapien female.” His inappropriate joke sent an eruption of laughter throughout the classroom. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

“Very funny, Mr Lewis.” Mr File deadpanned.

“Just talkin’ science.”

“Moving on.” As my teacher turned back to the chalkboard, Ricky and Brad reached over my head to high five each other. I scoffed and continued on with my notes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky turn around to speak to Sydney.

“Ah. Oh, come on, fire crotch. Laugh. That was funny.”

“Don’t be a prick, Ricky,” I hissed, the boy’s head snapping over to me. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

Ricky tilted his head at me and gave a soft smile, his hand reaching over and clasping around my wrist. “Okay, babe, I’ll leave your friend alone-”

“And don’t call me babe.” I yanked my wrist from his grasp. He froze, shocked, his mouth opening and closing as if at a loss for words.

“Mr Berry, if you could take your eyes off of Ms (Y/L/N) for one second to listen to my lecture, that would be very much appreciated.” At the sound of Mr File’s voice, Ricky quickly turned forward and returned to his notes.

“I’ll definitely try my best, sir.” He smirked, Bradley chuckling and reaching over my head again to give his friend another high five. My eyes fell on Stanley, who was watching the interaction in annoyance. When his gaze met mine, he gave me a sympathetic look. I only held my fingers in the position of a gun up to my temple and pretended to fire it. He shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back to Mr File. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Sydney glanced between Dina and our teacher before her gaze settled on me. She gave me a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I winked at her and gave a thumbs up. That was the start of one of the very few friendly interactions we’d have throughout the week.

On my way home from school that day, I spotted Syd and ran to catch up with her. “Hey, Sydney.” I grinned, the girl jumping a bit when I appeared by her side.

“O-Oh. Um, hey, Zip.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” I chuckled. “You’re normal.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “Uh… Why are you walking with me?” I frowned at her question, but she raised her head quickly. “Like, no offense, but… you usually just… keep to yourself. Or you get a ride from Stanley.”

“I stayed after for theatre rehearsal,” I shrugged. “But we never talk. We’re neighbors, Syd. And we’re both friends with Dina. Isn’t it weird we never talk?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’m not saying we should hang out everyday and tell each other secrets, but… you know.”

“No, yeah, I get it. I mean, Dina likes you… So does everyone else, so you must be really cool to be around.”

“Well, that’s something you can find out for the both of us. Because I still don’t get it…” I turned my head forward, my voice trailing off. We continued our journey home in comfortable silence, every now and then striking up pebble throwing contests. Sydney had a really nice smile. It was a shame she didn’t use it much. When we reached my street, our walk didn’t last much longer. “Here’s my stop.” I announced, stepping away towards the mailbox to retrieve our mail. Sydney nodded with a smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“Oh, hey, Syd!” Stan’s voice called out. We both turned our heads to see him getting up from his porch, making his way to the middle of the street to meet Syd. “And my lovely Zip.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I winked, pulling out a couple envelopes from the box. Stanley chuckled fondly at me before looking back to Syd, who was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my leg fell asleep. One sec,” He then began shaking and stretching his leg, Sydney standing by awkwardly. The sight alone was enough to have me quietly laughing to myself. Stan let out a sigh once he was done and planted his foot back on the ground. “Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. Why not?” Syd shrugged. Stan smiled and turned forward with her.

“Cool.”

As they walked away, I noticed one of the envelopes was addressed to me. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, I ripped it open. Inside was a lonely check. No note. Just like last time. And the time before that. Taking out the check, my eyes bulged at the number written down. Four hundred dollars?! Four hundred fucking dollars from Dad in two weeks! I tried to think of the upcoming dates. Was Aunt Pam’s birthday coming up? Uncle David’s? Jacob’s? No one’s. So… why did Dad send me twice as much this time? My head lifted to find Stanley happily dancing back up to his house, twirling and jumping with his bare feet. I laughed at the sight. As he descended the slope to his house, he motioned for me to follow. Setting the mail on the porch swing, I pocketed my check and hurried down to Stan’s.

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

“What about this one?” I held up Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on vinyl. “I love me some Elton John.”

“Whatever you want, Nugget.” I heard him from the couch. Satisfied with my decision, I put the music on, nodding to the beat of Crocodile Rock as I joined Stanley on the couch. He had just taken out one of his pre-rolled joints from his case and was lighting it up.

“So…”

“So?”

“What’s up with you and Sydney Novak?” I cheekily grinned, my friend puffing on the smoke as he removed the joint from his mouth. “You wanted to… walk with her?”

“I wanted to hang out with her. We’ve never hung out before. I just thought she’d want more friends.”

“Uh-huh…” I raised a brow, taking the joint when it was offered to me. As I inhaled the smoke, Stan waved me off.

“Whatever. So… what’s been going on with you? It’s been about three weeks since you got back and you haven’t spoken a word about where you disappeared to.”

I quickly handed the joint back as I exhaled, the smoke clouding my vision. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna talk about that…”

“Oh.” Stan cleared his throat.

“Let’s just say it was… very depressing.”

“Well, what about your dad? How’s he been?”

“He’s good, I think. Working in Georgia still. Oh!” I lifted my hip a bit to retrieve the check from my back pocket. “Look at this fucking shit, Stan! My dad sends me a two hundred dollar check every two weeks. But look what I got this time.” Stan leaned over, squinting his eyes as if he weren’t seeing right.

“Four hundred?!”

“Four hundred!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), what does he do?!”

“In all honesty, Stan, I have no fucking idea. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Stan mumbled, silencing himself by placing the joint between his lips. It didn’t take too long for our highs to kick in. When they did, we were draped over one another, lazily drawing shapes in the air. I reached over and tickled Stan’s foot, which was just beside my head. He quietly giggled and retracted his foot from me. I laughed loudly and dropped my arm.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is where we peak, huh? This is, like, as good as it gets,” I watched as he lifted his head, attempting to make eye contact with me. “Like, we’re not gonna have shit going for us besides a lousy paycheck we slave for. And we’re gonna settle for someone who makes us all feel a little less lonely… or we just end up alone and blame everyone else for it. And then… In, like, ten years we’re gonna go to our high school reunion and then we’re gonna find out that… We all were pieces of shit at the age of seventeen and that’s as good as we got. It’s as good as we’ll ever get,” I pointed to him. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

“Nugget… you talk too much,” He flopped back onto the ground. “But yeah, you’re right. But, like… not you.”

“Not me?”

“No, you’re gonna… move away again. But for good. You’re gonna become the best… damn actress of our time and you’re gonna walk on red carpets and go on talk shows and go ‘Yeah, my best friend Stanley Barber was the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, and then-”

“That’s not how I talk!” I burst out laughing, which triggered his own laughter. We spent the next few moments rolling on the floor, trying to catch our breaths in the midst of our cackling. Even in my haze, I thought to myself, If this is where I peak, I’m the most successful of them all to peak with Stan. How could no one have wanted to hang out with him? He was the only thing that kept me sane most days with his carefree philosophy on life. There was never a dull moment with him. Never a single second of doubt in his ability to make me smile, to make me feel good about myself. And maybe it was selfish to depend on him that much, but I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it.

When our highs almost completely wore off, I wished Stan a goodbye and headed back home. Entering the house, Jacob was just about to exit. “Oh, hey, Bug-” He stopped and sniffed. “You smell like weed.”

“You’ll live.” I smiled and walked inside. In the kitchen, Aunt Pam was making dinner while dancing to the music on the radio. Upon my arrival, she clapped and went to hug me.

“(Y/N), how was your-” She stepped back and sniffed. “Ugh, you smell like weed…”

“Sorry.”

“I honestly don’t care. But I wanted to tell you that you should call your dad. It’s been a couple of weeks with no call. Remember he said he’d check on you every other day?”

“I remember. I’ll call him right now.” Heading upstairs to my room, I pulled out my cell phone. I accessed my contacts before pressing on my dad’s, holding the phone up to my ear. When the call was answered, there was no greeting. Just faint breathing from the other end. “Uh… Dad-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rushed out, sounding out of breath. “What- What did you call for?”

“What did I… Dad, you said you’d call me three times a week. It’s been two weeks with no call.”

“You’re right, you’re right, doll.” He sighed. I frowned in disgust. He never called me ‘doll’. “How’s school going? Straight A’s?”

“Um… not really,” I mumbled as I entered my bedroom, setting my backpack on the ground before flopping on my bed, sighing contently. “A couple of B’s, but I’m trying. Uh, I got the check.”

“Yeah, yeah, your allowance.” He huffed.

“Uh-huh… but you gave me twice as much.”

“Yeah, for homecoming. Pam said it was next week.”

“Oh, yeah…,” I rolled onto my back. “Almost forgot.”

“Yeah, so just… buy yourself something pretty- Listen, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, but I promise to call you in two days.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you-” I was cut off when he abruptly hung up the phone. Sighing, I let my arm flop down beside my head. If I had to be completely honest, that was normal behavior from my dad lately. Sure, I mentioned he wasn’t present in his mind, but this was different. He was clearly occupied. Very occupied. I brushed it off as him being hard at work, but…

Something told me there was more going on with my Dad. And it scared me.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stan barber #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt x reader #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

[wonnoy]

study buddy

this is another tsukishima thing going on and it’s just fluff so no worries - this one can be read in public lol

you are failing a math class and start to beg the smartest kids in class to help you so you can actually pass and we all know tsukishima is one of them :)

warnings: not really any, just a bunch of fluff and a kiss at the very end - kei being a little cinnamon roll

word count: 1827

You had your head down in shame, covering the bad grade on the math quiz you were just handed back. Another failing grade in this class and you were done for, you’d be forced to take extra classes during your breaks and off days. You don’t know if you could actually handle that. You lifted your head off the desk and scanned the room. There was a mixture of different facial expressions that either read happy, sad and surprise. But, you looked over at the tall blonde guy in your class, he always had a face of nothing whenever he got his grades back. 

If you could remember, you think his name was Kishima Nei. Being honest, you never really paid much attention to him as he didn’t pay attention to you. After classes were over he’d sit in his seat with the headphones over his ears - only occasionally taking them off to talk to Yamaguchi. You knew him well because of the many team projects you were together for, he was sweet to talk to. 

You slumped your head back down on the desk. Maybe he had good grades and wasn’t surprised at his score or he didn’t care. What were you gonna do when you got home? Your parents were threatening to take away your phone if you didn’t pass this math class. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you rose your head. Yamaguchi was looking down at you with a smile. You tried to grin back but it turned out to be a wobbly smirk.

“What’s wrong?” he sat down in the empty seat in front of you and settled his arms on your desk. 

You shoved your quiz towards him and jabbed your finger at the quiz grade, “I got another failing grade, I’m not going to be able to pass this class.” You folded your arms underneath your head. Yamaguchi made a hiss at viewing your grade.

“Yea, that is bad,” you gave him a sharp look and he raised his hands in defense, “but you can ask some students in our class to help you. I would offer, but I’m not really the smartest in here,” he laughed a little before listening to the students coming back in from their break. He gave you wave before heading back to his own seat.

___

You were running out of people to ask and all you had on your list now was the blonde kid from before. You really weren’t sure on what his name was, so you made sure to ask Yamaguchi what it was (he had an absolute fit when you said ‘Kishima Nei’). His name was Tsukishima Kei. 

Right as the last class of the day ended, he packed up his things rather quickly. You had to leave your desk full of your stuff in order to catch him. 

You tugged on his sweater to keep him from leaving the classroom too quickly.

“Hey Tsukishima?” he turned his head and took off his headphones. He really was tall... 

“Yes? You are?” he really cut straight to the point it kind of put you off your guard. 

“I heard you’re really good at math and.. and I really need some help,” you lowered your hand to your side. He was your last hope. The side of Tsukishima’s mouth went up in a small snarl.

“Why would I do that?” oh god no. He began to turn his back to you and head out the door. So you did the only thing you could think of. You bent over, bowing lowly to the ground. And boy did it stop him in his tracks. You peered up at him and you could see he was embarrassed with your sudden bowing. Red crept up his pale neck.

“What are you doing, stop that!” people walking past the classroom were pointing and staring. Tsukishima didn’t know how much longer of this he could take.

“Please tutor me Tsukishima!” and you bowed even lower to the ground. 

Tsukishima was getting redder by the minute, he just knew you weren’t going to loosen up about this.

“Okay! Fine!” he gripped his headphones and turned away from you. You stood up from your bow, a little embarrassed yourself, “our next quiz is in four days, I can help you only during the night because I have volleyball practice right after,” he began to walk out of the classroom.

Relieved to now finally be standing up straight, you let out a huge sigh of relief. Yamaguchi came up from behind you and clamped a hand down on your shoulder.

“Well wasn’t that surprising! I didn’t think he would have actually agreed to you!” you whirled on his ass. 

“You didn’t say anything about him rejecting me!” and you began beating him down with your fists. 

___

It was Thursday night now, around 9 PM. The last night before your next math quiz. You were crisscrossed on the hardwood floor of your room, with a piece of scratch paper in your hands. The other a bic pen scribbling down the notes you were taking from Tsukishima as he lectured you. 

You guys met up at your house every night since the day you had asked him to help tutor you. Without fail, he would show up to your doorstep around 7:30 PM at night each time, dressed in his Karasuno volleyball team tracksuit and his bookbag full to the brim with his textbooks. 

The first day, Monday in the night, you wore your school uniform when he showed, you were nervous to wear your casual wear in front of boy in your home. But then he made fun of you for it so you stopped that immediately. On Tuesday you guys were working in your kitchen but then your parents came home and wouldn’t stop teasing you. Extremely embarrassing for you. Wednesday was the only night that was extremely productive, for Tsukishima anyway. You spent the majority of your time looking at him. 

At the expense of you studying. 

There’s no doubt that he was attractive. His hair style looked like it was cut too short, but that didn’t make him any less cute. On Wednesday he came to the study time wearing his little goggles and you just couldn’t keep your eyes off of his face. His eyebrows would narrow at answers you got wrong and slightly raised when you got them right. 

There was a time where he came up behind you to look at something you were working on and you had to hold the incentive to shiver as the front of his chest rubbed against your back. In the most innocent way though. 

“What are you doing?” Tsukishima’s voice was sharp as he addressed you. You were daydreaming and had stopped working for quite a bit of time. He obviously took notice. 

“I was doing .. uhm I was doing nothing,” you ducked your head back into the nose of your papers. Tsukishima scoffed at you and continued to read his textbook on your bed. He was in a tracksuit, every once in a while checking in on you. He’ll be honest, when he first started tutoring you, he absolutely wanted to die. He barely had enough time already and now he had to tutor someone like you?

He looked at you one more time, but now it didn’t seem to be all that bad. The only subject you were really struggling with was math - you were quite intelligent. You had these weird quirks about yourself that you did while you studied. Chewing on the pencil, counting your fingers for obvious answers so that you wouldn’t mess up, humming songs, and just occasionally making weird noises while you worked. 

Originally, something like this would annoy the hell out of him. Much preferring to snap at the person and tell them to quiet down. But with you it was different, he liked hearing you do things of this nature and really liked it that you were this comfortable with him around. You seemed so frigid the first day, even wearing your uniform late into the evening. He couldn’t help but make fun of you. 

“Tsukishima, come here and look at this,” the first thing he saw was your hand flying as if calling for a teacher. He smiled at the sight before swinging his legs over the side of your bed. He came up behind you and looked over your work. He definitely noticed that your breath sounded more shallow with the closer you were to him. 

“You did it,” he smiled behind you. He could hear you let go a sigh of relief and you slumped. Your back hit his chest and he froze from the contact. You turned your head beaming at him and his heart skipped a mini beat. It was difficult to keep a blush from climbing up his neck and giving himself away. 

“I just might make it tomorrow!” you grinned even more and your arms made movements to bring him into a hug - but you stopped short. Would it be wrong of you to hug him? What if you made him uncomfortable, you brought your arms back down to your sides and made an attempt to back away from him. 

Tsukishima was confused, so he bit the bullet, “why’d you stop?” startling you, he picked up your limp arms and used them to wrap himself in them. Then he draped his arms around you. Your face was coddled into his chest and you could smell granny smith apple’s and slight sweat. 

“You smell a little bad,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“What do you expect I had practice and then had to come over and help you study,” he pulled your face out of his chest. Even though the two of you were sitting on the same floor, his torso was much longer than yours. You had to look up at him as peered at you through his glasses. 

“You did... decent,” you scoffed at his half-attempt of a compliment. 

“If you can’t give me a real compliment, at least give me a reward,” frustrated, you swished your head away from him. Your head wasn’t turned away from him for long as he pushed your face to look at him. 

“So be it then,” before he leaned down and took your first kiss. You weren’t sure what to do and it really didn’t seem like he knew what do no better. Your hands were now in your lap, but he snuck a hand down to hold both of them. He didn’t kiss you deeply, but he kissed you softly until he parted from you. The feelings you had were deep and rooted within your gut making all logical thinking go out the window. 

“Can I have another for good luck?” and he laughed at you. 

P.S - you managed to ace that quiz - maybe his kiss was good luck. Hopefully he’ll give you one before every quiz. 

___ i’ve been kinda working on this one all day on an off i wanna try my best to get as much content on my blog as possible before i can slow down lol. 

hope you liked it and im always open for requests - but pls read the rules first !

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #reader insert #fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin💦

a/n: ya’ll forgive me someone requested soobin smut and I could not find the request on my page lolololol so whoever requested this i hope you enjoy!

saint m.list

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖆? 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖆’𝖑𝖑 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙. (𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜) 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 1893.

he was tall. sorry for stating the obvious but that was the most noticeable thing about him. I mean if you got really close maybe you could see his deep dimples that waded in both of his cheeks when he talked. Or if you were paying close attention to him you’d notice the way his eyes enveloped when he smiled or laughed. but enough of that though, choi soobin was nothing to admire. 

well, at least personality wise. he’d come to school in his snazzy maroon sweater vest and suit jacket and wore his hair in the side part that drove all of the girls crazy. you had to admit, it was reasonably so. he was a good looking guy. so why wouldn’t they? 

if they hadn’t been obsessing over him maybe they’d see him dump their textbooks in the trash when they weren’t looking or him cutting their ponytails or even worse, him lying to the priest about the sluts they were at the confessionals. poor father benjamin. 

luckily though you stayed low on the radar. I mean you weren’t completely invisible but at least your were the person who rather keep your head inside the book of Ecclesiasticus than choi soobin. you were one of the few at least. he even had the boys all over him, wanting to be him, wanting to act like him and dress like him. if this wasn’t a catholic school you’d think they’d rather be his girlfriend, too. but you couldn’t hold your school to a high standard I mean Melissa Mccarthy’s sex tape was floating around the school for months. And she was so called one of the most ‘attractive’ girls in school before she got expelled of course.

but back to choi soobin. he was a shit head. you knew in your heart of hearts he was. this is what mainly infuriated you when sister helena assigned him as your partner for a video watching. yeah a video watching. in which she’d pull out that big fat old tv and put on a black and white movie and expects you to write down the answers based on events that were happening in the film. she always assigned partners though because she thought two brains could capture better details than one. 

anyway he slides in the seat next to yours in the back of the room with a snarky grin on his face. he always had that dumb snarky grin. you pull down your plaid pleated skirt a little more over your knees. sister helena smiles at the both of you while passing out the question sheet and a couple of pencils. Soobin grabs it before you. not that you were racing to get it anyway. You saw him concentrating to write, must’ve been hard for him since he does little to no work. Then you realized he was writing his name and you wondered if how he even made it to senior year. 

it was your turn to write your name on the paper so you did so quickly before the movie started. you weren’t even 10 minutes into the movie before soobin began laughing and goofing off with his friends in the front of him. Sister helena shot you a severe look signaling the fact that she wanted you two to tone it down. but why did she address you and not soobin?

you nudge him on the arm. 

“hey quit it. sister helena is going to give us an F if you keep going”.

“and what does that have to do with me?”. soobin snarls you roll your eyes. 

“it has a lot to do with you because if i get a bad grade over you It’s going to be a serious problem”.

soobin laughs as if to say, ‘yeah right’. it only made you angrier. soobin tilts his head at you. you were kinda cute in a way. he never really looked at you before like he had now. he acted as if he were looking elsewhere and placed his hand on your knee. you flinch.

“soobin?-- what are you doing?”. 

you ask pushing his hand off. he does this sheepish grin that makes him the cutest but you didn’t want to admit it. 

“come on. we’re in the back of the room. don’t you want to have some fun?”.

“we have an assignment to do you idiot”. he places his hand on your knee again, only he raises it a bit more, dragging up your skirt a little. you had to admit, his hands felt nice. 

“you’re so worried about this assignment. trust me. I’ll make sure we have the answers even if we weren’t paying attention”.

your nerves ran endlessly as he dragged his fingers higher, now reaching the top of your thighs. you were grateful that you two were in the back of the room and that the table you two shared was enough to cover his movements. 

“s-s-soobin i don’t think we should”. you stuttered. it was weird how you forgot all the bad things about soobin as soon as he started touching you. He leans in your ear, 

“just relax. I’ll make you feel good i promise. have you ever been touched before?”.

no. and you would probably be the envy of the whole school if everyone knew who was waiting to touch you. 

“no i haven’t”. 

he ghosted his finger tips at the front of your panties, rubbing your slit lazily. you closed your eyes, feeling sorry for father benjamin and your confessions in advance. 

“you’re actually pretty cute”. soobin flirts with his lips still to your ear. you ignored his compliment letting him slip his fingers inside of your panties. he teases your clit with his fingertips before he touches it softly. 

you twitch and tap your foot so you wouldn’t be too suspicious to sister Helena. Not that she was paying you two any mind anyway. you don’t know what the hell gotten into you, but it was too late to stop it now. 

soobin scoots his seat closer to you and uses his other hand to grip his pencil in. He wanted to make he looked like he was doing as much work as possible. He pulled your panties back a bit more, using his finger to gently rub your clit in small circles. you shuddered. this was your first time experiencing something as mind blowing as this. 

with your priest of a father and religious mother you never had time to...explore. you finally saw what you were missing in life. soobin pauses his actions to spread your legs a little wider before he kept rubbing you. With each rub he’d do it more forcefully than the last. you bite your lips trying to detain any noises. it was hard though. 

“you’re so cute. you like getting your virgin pussy touched don’t you?”. soobin speaks in your ear with a low tone. he fastens the pace of his fingers feeling your puffy clit slick up in excitement. surges of electricity sprints through you. you pull your skirt over his hand. 

he casually pretends he’s watching tv and you’re suffering. If you don’t whimper, or wail, or anything you felt like you were going to explode in the next two seconds. He rubs you faster and you could feel your hips grinding against his fingers desparately. 

“don’t do that. fuck--you’re going to make me hard”. he warns in a casual whisper. you ignore him of course and clutch the table. you close your eyes and let his fingers slide through your pussy as you grinded. you opened your mouth hoping nothing came out. but you were in for a surprise when you created a small squeal by accident.

luckily though, no one but sister helena looked at you. With her pointer she pointed to the tv, meaning ‘pay attention or you will have detention’ . you’d sure liked to see her contain herself if she ever got fingered in the back of a classroom by a cute boy. but then again you wouldn’t like to see that, because  for a 50 year old woman that’d be fucking gross. 

soobin is chuckling lowly in your ear like the menace he was. “your pussy is so fucking wet holy shit”. 

you continue to bite your lips while he swiped your clit from side to side aggressively with three fingers. your heart pounded in your chest. you wanted to shriek, you wanted to scream but you couldn’t and it was killing you. 

you decided it was best that you left your small cries in the lowest volume as possible, only audible enough for soobin to hear. you were sopping through his fingers though. you panicked when you felt yourself pulse intensely. soobin grinned. he knew your were close. 

“that’s it, cum for me you little fucking saint”. he groaned in your ear. with your stuttering hips a wave of pressure came over you and you felt something leaking out of you. with your heavy breathing you had to come to terms with the fact that that was your first orgasm. 

holy shit.

the bell rung and classes ended and somehow someway you and soobin’s paper was full of answer by the time he turned it in. “Hey, you. come here I need to have a word with you”. sister helena grumbled looking directly at you. your heart raced. soobin gave you a small smirk before walking out the classroom. as almost if he was wishing you good luck. 

“yes?”. 

“I want to say that choi soobin is very misbehaved. But i am so glad I paired him with you. I’ve never saw him complete a whole paper his whole time here and this is his senior year here. hey, if you don’t mind i think i’d like to pair you two more often. Is that alright with you?”. she smiles. 

you blink. not believing what the hell you were hearing. 

“yes why not?”. you blurt out laughing playfully for good measure. 

“good good! I know what to do now. Have a nice day!”. you bow to her hoping she does as well. you walk out the classroom to see soobin standing on the wall next to the door smiling down at you like an idiot.

“what?”. you scoff. 

“have you ever had sex before?”. he asks casually as if he were asking you what your favorite cereal was. you shake your head no. 

“no. why?”. 

“do you want to?”. 

“what makes you think i’d want to do it with you? you’ve probably had sex with the whole school by now”. 

you scoff again walking away. he chases after you. 

“if that’s what you think then boy you’d be surprised by the truth”. 

“why are you even bothering? I’m a virgin it’s not like i’m some slut who can pleasure you and actually know what I’m doing”. 

“I can teach you”. he says confidently. 

“what?”. 

“It’s your senior year. I’m sure you don’t want to be a virgin for long. I mean, you can agree to let me teach you or i’d just might have to tell poor father benjam--”.

“alright! soobin. no need to go that far”. you adjust your backpack strap. 

“I’ll let you teach me. but where?”.

“my parents are having a church meeting tomorrow night. Meet me at my house around 7″.

#choi soobin #choi soobin smut #txt smut #kpop #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #kpop au #kpop smut #soobin smut

[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt 1

A/N - so i heard from like four of you which is enough to warrant me posting drafts that weren’t supposed to see the light of day - ANYWAY this was originally written in third person and let me tell you it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to change tenses like holy hell. 

(Technically the prequel Friendliness but can stand alone if you really want it to. There’s a part two to this so watch out for that tomorrow.)

Summary - Spencer meets a professor and falls in love for a few hours

W/C - 2k

Warnings - none-ish? there’s a small smattering of violence and horrible changing of the tenses 

-----

Spencer can’t help the irony that he’s in a freshman college class for the first time ever while protecting one of the students. Who knew that a tiny club of DnD players could incite so much rage out of an un-sub? So here he was, trying to blend in—even though he’s 25, he still looks 14 and there’s really no real reason why he should be worried about being caught—in order to protect a freshman who was more pimple than male specimen. 

Joesph—the poor kid in question—takes a seat in the front row and Spencer’s obligated to sit within tackling distance, though he hopes it won’t come to that. Hopefully, Morgan will have the kid the un-sub goes for and Spencer can just enjoy being in college again. The painfully familiar auditorium seats, the stale air, and bad fluorescents feel more like home than he cares to admit. 

College hadn’t been all too unpleasant. High school he’d gotten picked on mercilessly. College, however, had meant getting doted on by hot sorority girls and earning the protection of frat boys—they’d picked up rather quickly that he knew football strategy better than they did after Spencer had hustled a TV and 400 dollars from them. Sure, he didn’t drink, but every single drunk teenager had welcomed him with open arms and lots of ginger ale. 

There’s chatter and for the ten minutes before class starts, Spencer is torn between trying to figure out which song is quietly playing around the room and watching for a particularly rage-filled college student serial killer. Instead, he just finds too many bored faces. Most of the kids are drinking coffee like the best of them and he’s itching for his next fix just looking at it. 

The first two rows: a terrible vantage point to be profiling, but a beautifully defensible post. He watches absently as one of the TAs, who looks a little younger than him, organizes three stacks of papers on the front desk and flips through several different pages on the podium. His attention is focused solely on you for nearly a minute too long—he can hear the voice in his head chastising him for how often he gets distracted by pretty people. 

You look of the fragile sort, the in-the-lab kind of future scientist. There’s something about you that’s captivating. It might be the way you keep reorganizing the papers to perfection or maybe it’s the way you study the room so closely. And while he thinks that you might not be able to physically stop someone, you sure look like the kind of person that could crush him in chess. 

He’s 25 and is considering chess as a marriage proposal.  

Joesph shuffles his books around in the seat in front of Spencer and you, the beautiful TA in question, hold a watch up as you move to the centre of the room. Class is starting. Class is starting and he’s hopeful the professor never actually shows up. 

He notices your watch is on your right wrist—are you left handed?—as you smile widely and clap her hands together. First day jitters seem to keep everyone silent, waiting on baited breath for you to start. Spencer would stay on baited breath for the rest of his life for you. You were utterly captivating after all—he could see the drool from several students’ mouths a few seats over. 

“This is Anthropology 101,” you announce. “If this isn’t your class, you’re free to leave. Or stay if you want. Did you guys know that anxiety disorders affect more than 40 million US adults? Or 1 in 5, I guess, if you want the easier pill to swallow.”

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat and he wants to raise his hand just to ask you to marry him. 

“Anyway,” you sigh, leaning back agains the front desk, “I spit out a lot of facts. Usually something that begins with ‘did you know’ won’t be on the tests. I try to be fair. Which brings us to ice breakers.”

The class collectively groans. You scoff. 

“Oh hush, I’m the only one doing the ice breakers so chill out. Jeez.” Spencer waits patiently for your soft breath and then your further announcement of, “I’m officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, but that’s like only if my boss comes in or for any emails you send. You can call me Y/N because that’s like normal. I got my doctorate in forensic anthropology a year ago and I’ve been teaching since I started grad school three years ago. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

He almost kicks himself. You’re the professor. How many times had he been nearly kicked out of a classroom when he was in grad school for saying he was the professor? How many times had he been 18 and trying to get an ounce of respect for himself? 

You continue, waving your hands about like you could pull your ideas back down to earth. “Um—a fun fact about me is that I am not welcome in certain parts of the world for ‘violating’ what are called exhumation laws, which is silly in my opinion. I had the legal right to carry that head on the plane and—and I hope you did the reading because there’s a first day pop quiz.”

The entire class lets out one simultaneous frustrated whine that alights something almost wicked in your eyes. You wave over two students from the other end of the front row and they begin passing out test papers as you explain. 

“You’ll have a total of fifteen minutes to answer ten questions. We’ll start on my mark. If you have any trouble, give me a shout and I’ll help you out. After this, we’ll go over the syllabus and if you’re lucky, leave early.”

Spencer’s passed a test and immediately notices there’s no place for a name. Just a bolded “Student #21” at the top. Another girl raises the question and you snicker. “I like puzzles,” is the only answer you give before the time starts. 

Question four: what are the top three songs you’ve been listening to? Please list.

Question six: why are you taking this class?

A: This is a requirement

B: I heard it was easy

C: I heard the professor was hot

D: I really enjoy anthropology! (liar)

Question nine: Creationism or Evolution?

Question ten: Quickly. If you were going to have dinner, would it be with Bill or Hillary Clinton?

Spencer can’t hide the grin he’s got the entire test. It’s all ridiculous get-to-know-you questions. He can tell what merit you’re getting out of them. There’s one judging study habits, one judging religion, feminism, politics—you’ve created her own little innocuous questionnaire. Spencer was sure the students would just think you were strange, but he saw the cleverness. 

Spencer also notices that once you notice him, you don’t stop noticing him. He wonders what you see. You’re so obviously profiling him that it hurts. Do you see the FBI agent? The scholar? The doctor? The drug addict? The man in a boy’s skin?

Your timer beeps and you shout for pencils down. Your makeshift TAs are dispatched to collect the papers and you make the stacks perfect when they make it to the desk. You move to the whiteboard, a set of papers clutched in your hand, and lean against it to address the class. 

“Test go alright?” your grin is contagious and Spencer can’t help but mirror it. You glance at Spencer, turns back to the class, and tuck your hair behind your ear. You let the class chatter on for a moment, setting the papers down on the table, and readjust the undone cuffs of your white button down. He never thought that a sweater vest and jeans could look so hot. 

You smirk and check your watch one more time. “Let’s talk about tests because I know you all have questions. Everything on the test is either written on the board, on the notes, or in the study guide—if you fail after that, come to office hours. I’ve got Advil for the hangovers.”

#

Thankfully, Joesph is one of those students who has to speak to every single one of his professors. Spencer waits patiently behind the kid, trying to keep the smell from the lack of deodorant just out of range. 

He keeps a hard gaze on all of the students moving in and out of the auditorium. There’s nothing to see, just a lot of students with a lot of normal college apathy. No anger, no serial killer, no one to tackle. 

“Sometimes the BO is worse than a corpse’s expulsion of gas,” you joke from your place atop the desk. Spencer looks up, and furrows his eyebrows as his brain processes. Your face falls for a split second, but your curiosity replaces it just as quickly. Joesph’s jaw hits the floor, stumbling for some way to explain himself or maybe some half decent way to insult the pretty professor. 

Spencer laughs, probably a little more than he should have, considering he wasn’t supposed to out himself as an FBI agent. You tuck your hair behind your ear again and, for someone younger than 25, you are surprisingly wide eyed with perception and curiosity. 

“Do you like puzzles, Doctor—“

“Reid,” he supplies, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Spencer.”

You raise an eyebrow, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. You turn your focus back to Joesph—a boy worse at talking to those scoring higher than an 8 than Spencer was at the same age. “So, Joesph, why does the good doctor need to be within tackling distance of you?”

Joesph flounders, turns to hide his blush, and yelps like God himself has come down to kick him in the ass. Spencer takes one good look at the 18 year old girl charging towards a pimple of a boy and he launches before he can give much consideration to how much its going to hurt. 

But between the noticing and the launching, he makes a list: she’s got so much black eyeliner that Emily’s high school yearbook photos would be jealous; she’s about to inflict about a 9 on the pain scale if she’s left to her plan; there’s obviously no plan other to scratch Joesph’s eyes out; her nails are the size of tiger claws and Spencer desperately wishes he had a better pain tolerance; there’s no weapon. 

The tackle takes seconds. It’s a practised movement. Roll. Knee. Handcuffs. The girl is screaming and crying and kicking and biting. His arm’s on fire and she’s struggling enough that it’s taking more than ten seconds to get the handcuffs on. 

It’s calculated as he presses his knee harder into her back. She yelps and stills long enough that Spencer closes the handcuffs on her tiny, sliced up wrists. The cutting explains some things…

“Hence the tackling distance,” You sum up, bending down just slightly to look the killer in the face. Your nose wrinkles. “You had very distinct ideas on the cultural value of suicide.”

Spencer shakes his head, hauls the girl to her feet, and beckons for Joesph to follow. The entire world falls out of view as he manhandles the girl into an easy walk. The students step to the side to gawk, and he’s thankful for the wide berth. If someone got hurt, the paperwork alone—

“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Reid!” you call and he glances back over his shoulder. You’re waving around the stack of papers in your arms, utterly ridiculous, terribly adorable. He hopes his smile is more suave than love sick, but the fleeting flirtation is especially over when Miss Unchecked Rage kicks out as Joesph comes into her line of sight. 

Spencer throws his whole weight into keeping her down. There’s no room to fall in love after a day. Especially with someone on a college campus halfway across the country from him. There’s even less room to manoeuvre Miss Eyeliner even without Joesph waddling into her eye line every few seconds. Seriously, he thinks, how hard is it to keep behind me?

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