#AWS Classroom Training | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nezuscribe · 1 year ago

Text

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: six years ago, when they placed that sorting hat on your head, nobody expected for it to assign the muggleborn to the slytherin house, but it did. six years later, you find yourself as alone as the day you walked through those doors. little did you expect the prince of slytherin, the pureblood maniac himself, gojo satoru, to be the one to coincidentally fill your empty hours.

warnings: gojo is a pureblooded slytherin, slight angst, slight messy makeout

word count: 12.6k

note: part two is out now! comments and reblogs are always appreciated! thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading as always!

part two

slytherin!gojo masterlist + jjk masterlist

When you were little, all the strange and peculiar things that happened to you, such as Ms. Bromsely, the awful maths teacher's desk going up in flames, or Patricia Gallaghers rings disintegrating after she teased your dress, were chalked up to chance or just something else.

Your mother was too busy covering extra shifts down at the pub to worry about it, so she rarely made an occurrence to the meetings your headmaster had scheduled, resulting in very awkward meetings with just you as you were explained how peculiar it was that you always seemed to be in the middle of all these weird occurrences.

So when that brown spotted owl almost crashed into your bedroom window at the ripe age of eleven, explaining that you were chosen to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you suspected that one of your classmates was playing a cruel joke on you, but alas, it turned out to be very real.

You were whisked away soon enough, stumbling your way in some sort of haze through Diagon Alley, and then in a blink of your eyes, you found yourself waving goodbye to your mother from that red train, on your way to a life you may have only imagined when you were younger, dreaming of a place far away from where you were.

And you loved it.

The feasts, the history-soken steps that you walked on every day to get to class, the little town that was within walking distance that you could go to every weekend.

While most of the students here had been introduced to this early on in their lives, you hadn’t. Your mother was just as shocked and as bewildered as you were all those years ago, and given your special circumstances, sometimes you wondered if you were yet to see the thick of it, wondering if some things were hidden from you given your upbringing, given your blood.

But you blinked out of your stupor, being brought down from your daydream to the sound of quills scratching, the smell of faint smoke burning in the background, and the quiet sounds of different animals in their cages. All of these tall-tell signs of the transfiguration classroom.

After years of spending time in this classroom, it slowly became one that you’d look forward to, and despite most Slytherins having an aptitude for potions or defense against the dark arts, transfiguration was where you shined the best.

The light that carded through the high arching windows illuminated the desks, and you were glad seeing how the back of the classrooms was usually the most poorly lit place. Unfortunately, they’re the only places you found yourself sitting throughout the years, which is just another reason why this specific classroom in itself brought you a slight sense of comfort.

“...cross-species and inter-species transfiguration is one of the most difficult, if not the most difficult, sort of transfiguration to achieve. Even the most accomplished witches and wizards find themselves struggling with it,” you watched as Professor McGonagall walked around the front of the classroom, her graying hair pulled into a tight bun behind her head, her emerald robes swaying behind her like green waves, “The only way we were able to replicate this form of magic is through ancient runes.”

Her eyes raked over all the students of the class, to make sure that everybody was understanding the weight of her words. As seventh years it was expected that you all would be ready to face the challenges of such a high-level class. But especially with Professor McGonagall, seeing just how difficult her classes usually were.

“Of course, this was all covered during your fourth years, so I hope that some of you,” she gave a knowing look over her glasses, “Remember your lessons.”

You momentarily caught her eyes.

You squirmed in your seat, knowing that her displeased look was directed to the Gryffindor’s sitting next to you. The boy to your left had his mouth open in a large yawn, promptly shutting it when McGonagall looked at him, and the girl to your right was busily finicking with a piece of parchment, trying to figure out how to enchant it so that it could turn into a swan to send to her boyfriend who was sitting across the class.

You loved Hogwarts. Most of the time.

The reason why you usually found yourself at the back of class, sitting with people you barely knew, and the reason why you were yet to experience most of the core memories other witches and wizards your age experienced was because you weren’t welcomed the way other would be by their assorted houses.

Nearly six years ago, when Professor McGonagall placed that sorting hat on your head, you didn’t know what to expect.

You had heard from some of the people that you sat near on the train that Gryffindor was best. Of course, the boy who said it came from a family of Gryffindors, but his friends seemed to agree with him. Ravenclaw was only for the smart people, which you hoped you might be sorted into and Huffelpuffs were known for their loyalty, which, judging by your mother's statement about how you dared to leave home, you didn’t have much of.

But the Slytherin house seemed…forbidden.

At least for you, anyways.

“And what about that girl we saw?” One of the boys pointed outside the carriage window into the little hall outside, pointing to a much older girl wearing green robes, walking with some other friends who wore adorning colors, “What house is she in?”

The other boy, who seemed to have the most knowledge out of anyone, scoffed, shaking his head.

“Not for you, sorry,” he leaned in closer as if he were telling a secret. You tried to listen in, not making it obvious seeing how you weren’t any of their friends and how this was the only cart available with space, “That’s the Slytherin house.”

“Why’s it not for me?” The other boy argued, his face pulled into a scowl.

“Well, Slytherins are many things. Ambitious, cunning,” the other boy said but shook his head disapprovingly, “But above all else, they’re all purebloods. Some are half-bloods, but even that’s rare. You’re coming from a muggle family. My father works at the ministry, and he says that some of the people in his department who were Slytherin still despise muggle-borns and muggles even long after they’ve left.”

So you had a basic understanding of what to expect. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor.

But when the hat cried out “Slytherin!” you almost jumped in your seat, looking behind you at the professor, your face of hesitancy surely mirroring hers.

And you soon found out that the boy on the train (who was sorted into Gryffindor, big shock), was right. Word spread quickly that a muggle-born was sorted into Slytherin, the first in centuries, and that it surely must’ve been a mistake.

But the sorting hat doesn’t go back on its word, and what was said was done. So six and a bit years later you found yourself as the pariah of your own house and were forced to fade into the background to avoid any further trouble.

“...and this is the one project in which I’m having you work with partners, picked by me, of course. The research that is needed to go into this is too much to be done alone.” Professor McGonagall continued, and you perked up in your seat a little bit, your brows furrowing at her words.

You felt a part of your heart race at the thought. Normally when professors assigned partners, it either left you with a fellow Slyhterin who hated your existence and forced you to do the project on your own, or somebody from another house who didn’t know you and forced you to do the project on your own.

Your tongue felt heavy as she began reading off the paired names on her list, your hands becoming clammy.

“Miss Finnegan and Mister Belton. Miss O’Shea and Miss Adan,” The girl next to you, who you quickly pieced together was Leila O’Shea groaned, her face depleted as she realized she wasn’t going to be paired with her boyfriend, and you watched as she sulkily went to the other girl's desk.

You listened in anticipation as she went down the list, your heart beating loudly and comically in your chest the closer it seemed that she was getting to the end.

“Mister Reeve and Mister Thompson,” she paused momentarily as she watched the two boys clap each other on the back, her lips threatening to quirk up into a smile, just waiting to read what foolishness they were going to write, “Miss Ward and Mister Green,” you felt like you might be getting off the hook, that maybe she took pity on you but it all came crashing down when she looked at you, a knowing look in her eyes far worse than pity as she read your name along with perhaps the singular person you would’ve paid all your money to not be paired with,

“…will be with Mister Gojo,” you heard some of your housemates laugh out loud, some of them pushing at the boy and ruffling his hair as if he were the one that was going to face the brute of everything. He sat near the front, and you could see a flash of his white hair as he begrudgingly began to pack his things up, having no choice but to sit next to you seeing how the seats next to him were filled up.

You watched as she rolled the piece of parchment back up as if she hadn’t just sentenced your public execution, and she raised a singular thin brow at the faces that were looking back at her, “Well? Get a move on. This essay is due in a month.”

You tried to take in a deep breath, your eyes trained on the blank piece of parchment in front of you as if you couldn’t hear his footsteps getting closer and closer to you, as if you didn’t just feel his robes brush up against your legs as he sunk into his seat.

This can’t possibly be happening.

Anybody would’ve been better than him. Even Marley Petterson and her constant poking and teasing about how your clothes were held together by scraps, and how you must’ve lived with mud people before you came to Hogwarts would’ve been better than him. Being forced to be a partner with the Prince of Slytherin was torture, and you wonder if after all these years Professor McGonagall was just now starting to show her distaste towards you.

That day on the train was the first time you heard his name.

“You see that boy? The one with the white hair?” The boy discreetly pointed out the window to one of the kids standing outside your cart. All the other boys hurriedly nodded, each craning their necks to get a better look at him, “He’s a Gojo. He comes from a line of Slytherins, each one worse than the one before. They’re purebloods, obviously. You wouldn’t find a speck of anything else in them. They’re rich too, filthy rich. They could buy this school if they wanted to.” All the other boys guffawed, but he seemed serious as if this stranger's family was nothing to be taken lightly.

“When it comes to Slytherins, there are four families to be wary of. There’s the Gaunts and the Malfoys. There’s the noble house of Black, but lastly…them. House Gojo is one that every other wizarding family steers away from.”

After the day you were sorted you also quickly realized why most wizarding families stayed away from them. His word seemed to be law, and all the other Slytherins, especially those in his inner circle, held him to it.

You peeked from the corner of your eye, watching as he unpacked all his supplies, his face contorted in obvious anger and disgust, and you thickly swallowed. You had done a good job in staying away from him these past couple of months, fortunate enough to only be called a mudblood and an offense to their ancient house a couple of times by him and his posse.

His left-hand ring finger almost caught your eye in the sun, the gold ring with his house emblem shining brightly, a clear reminder of your difference with him, and you tried to hide your old school bag, riddled with holes and stains, something you just couldn’t replace.

When he was done unpacked, he sat there for a couple of seconds, the silence between the two of you thick and heavy. You felt like you could choke on it, your fingers twitching to do something, to leave.

“...this is insulating…” he was talking to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as you sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t one for many words. You had observed him from afar, long enough to see that aside from the occasional words he’d exchange with his closest friends or the few times he’d mutter traitor under his breath when the two of you locked eyes, he was a more brooding type of person.

When he was angry, he hid it well. His cheeks might’ve flushed a bit, his nose flaring, but he never made an outburst. Which is why, at this moment, you could tell that he wasn’t in a particularly elated mood.

“I…” you started, your mouth going dry at the way his eyes snapped to you, cold and cruel, “I can do the essay. I’ll get it done in time…if you want.”

Most times your partners would just tell you to do the work, expecting (and knowing), you’d just say yes and go along with your day. But here, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, rather having your pride be bitten at rather than your overall self.

You heard him snort, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he rolled his eyes.

“What? And have you do everything wrong?” His voice was hushed and clipped as if talking to you a second longer than needed would ruin him and everything he and his family stand for.

He unrolled his piece of parchment, opening up his book as he kept his head down.

“Well, I’m fairly decent with transfiguration,” you spoke up, trying for a smile that quickly fell when you felt his eyes burn into yours. For most of your time at Hogwarts, the only times you’ve ever really spoken to Gojo was when he was hurling insults at you, his words spurred on by his group of friends behind him.

Gojo Satoru knew his worth. He knew that his family name would last through centuries and that the gold his family owned could buy out the entire ministry if they wanted to. Those around him treated him as such; as if his word was law. It also didn’t help that he was incredibly charming, growing into his looks over the years.

You watched as he grew taller, his lanky figure now filled out with muscles that you could sometimes see through the baggy uniform. His eyes were always a topic of conversation, the infamous Gojo blue. His arctic white hair grew a little longer, sometimes falling in his face when he wasn’t aware. He was gorgeous, and you couldn’t even lie to yourself that he wasn’t.

Aside from his looks, he was also freakishly smart. If he hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin you were sure that Ravenclaw would’ve been fitting for him as well. He was always top of the class with O’s on every exam.

Above all else, he knew his difference from everybody else. Even his closest (pureblooded) friends weren't even near his level. Even before he could walk, he’s been told of this. Not only that but he’s been told of the vileness of muggleborns. How their nature threatens the very fabric of wizarding society, and how muggles who have somehow been blessed with magical abilities are below humans, that they don’t deserve the rights every other witch and wizard has.

Which means that you, the sole muggle-born in Slytherin, stood against everything Gojo Satoru believed. You were an abnormality, inhuman, somebody that he should resent for even existing.

“Well, we could always divide the work…?” You offered, your feet anxiously bouncing on the ground as you waited for his response. One of the blessings of sitting so far away from everyone else is that sure, they looked over to see how this was going, but at least they couldn’t listen in as you embarrassed yourself even further.

His eyes darted over to your paper, blinking once, deep in thought.

He sighed deeply through his nose, swallowing thickly as he gave you a singular, curt nod.

“Hm,” he hummed, not even sparing you a glance as he began going to work, his pen scratching against the paper as his eyes began reading over the page, “But I’ll read what you write,” he said quickly, “I refuse to have my rank tank just because you mudbloods can’t do your work properly.”

Mudblood

After six years of it, you know you should’ve gotten used to it, but the stinging in your chest would argue otherwise.

Your shoulders sank, eyes falling to the ground as your fingers fidgeted. You murmured something inaudible as you opened your book to the page McGonagall instructed you to.

—

The days moved on and everything continued as it always did.

The essay you had to write with Gojo was a slight hindrance in your usual schedule, but the two of you worked in silence in class and never interacted outside of it. Sometimes when his elbow would accidentally bump into yours as the two of you were busy writing he’d make a sort of noise in the back of his throat, his hand snatching back quickly as if you had somehow burnt him, but that was the most of your interactions.

Sometimes when you were in the common rooms, late at night, you could hear him talking with his friends, talking about how heinous and ridiculous it was that McGonagall paired the two of you together, but you tried to ignore it.

That following week you found yourself back in the transfiguration classroom, working away quietly as you tried to understand the scriptures on the pages you had to read. You found yourself lucky that this subject was the one you might have some sort of talent in, seeing that this sort of ancient magic was just as difficult as McGonagall made it out to be.

You heard some mumbling next to you, your eyes discreetly looking over at your partner, only to find his head in his hands as his brows furrowed in both annoyance and confusion.

“...what does this…?” You heard him say to himself, watching as he flipped the page back and forth as if he was missing something.

You looked back at your work, the talking around the room drowning out whatever it was that Gojo was saying to himself.

Or at least you tried to drown out the noise, if not for the fact that your partner made some sort of sudden movement that managed to knock his ink bottle down, spilling ink all over the table. You moved your work to the side, watching as some of the ink soaked into your robes.

“Fuck,” he snapped, moving suddenly from his chair so that the ink would drip onto his clothes, “damn it,” he looked around almost helplessly, his hands clenching in anger after seeing all his hard work soaked up in black.

“Wait,” you suddenly say, your arm outstretching over his body, watching as his head snaps over to you, “Stop moving for a second.”

He didn’t have much time to bite back at how dare you order him around because you had already begun to pull out your wand, flicking it on a quick movement as you murmured “tergeo,” watching as the ink slowly yet surely began clumping up in the middle of the table, going back with snake-like movements into its bottle.

There was a beat of silence.

Gojo sat still in his seat, his lips pursing as he finally let out a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing at his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said, but it seemed like he had to bite the word out, choking on it as if thanking you was taking too much of his mental willpower to do.

You nodded briefly, still watching him as he settled back into his seat.

“Uh,” you scratched at the back of your neck, knowing that you’d probably regret asking this in a matter of seconds, but somehow not able to stop yourself as you continue talking, “I don’t mean to be rude, or intrude, but is everything alright?”

You hold your breath as you watch Gojo sigh, his eyes shutting briefly. You braced yourself to be snapped at, to be victim to yet another reminder of how much you’ve tarnished the Slytherin name, but he just shakes his head.

“No,” he seethes, but when he peeks over at you he licks his lips, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he grabs his papers, moving it over to the middle of you two as he motions to it, “Everything is not alright. Something’s wrong with the book…and I have no idea what. I’ve read this page at least twenty times and it makes no bloody sense to me,”

You try to hide your surprise.

That’s probably the most he’s ever spoken to you without any mention of your muggle heritage.

You move in a little closer to look at what he’s pointing to. You try not to heat up under his stare, squinting your eyes as you try to make sense of what it was he was writing, trying to hide your reactions when you realize that he was doing most of it wrong.

The point of this essay was to learn about the origins of cross-species transfiguration, and eventually an animagus transformation and how it even came to be.

You had to reference at least five other books and scrolls to piece together the correct herbs and spells needed to even begin the process. McGonagall honestly probably told everybody to reference the textbook because there was nothing in it. This essay was a testament to how many people went out of their way to learn about the true nature of transfiguration.

What Gojo had written was something you were sure almost everybody else was writing as well, a mistake you almost made. His research was simple and black and white, and he was getting everything wrong because he was missing at least ten different very important points.

“So,” you swallowed nervously, chewing on your already chapped lips, “You have the main ideas down,” which was a lie, “But there are just some things-” Before you could even finish your sentence the bell tower chimed once, twice, and then a final time, telling everybody that their class was over.

All around you people began hurriedly packing up, surely excited for lunch, the chatter of conversations growing in volume, and you didn’t have to look at Professor McGonagall to know that she was irked by her student's sudden enthusiasm to leave.

Gojo sat motionless, still looking over at you, waiting impatiently for you to finish.

“I…” you scratched at your hands, “I can’t go over everything right now, but tomorrow I’ll bring in the other-” He raised his hand, packing up his bag as he cut you off.

“No, not tomorrow, I’m already behind,” you watched as he shoved his papers into his leather bag, “Just explain it now.”

You wanted to laugh, not knowing how long it might take to explain your twisted thinking process to him and you doubted he wanted to stay in this classroom with you for a minute longer.

“Well, there’s quite a bit of things,” you searched for the right word, “Missing. I have to study for the potions exam right now, but I’m going to be in the library tonight anyway. I could show you then…?”

You stood at your chair, your eyes looking up into his, wavering.

What did you just do? Surely he’d laugh now in your face, roll his eyes at how absurd it was that you could even suggest such a thing, just as he usually does.

Instead, he looks at you, then at his paper, and then at yours, which is at least three pages long at this point. He’d never admit it out loud, but you were understanding this assignment better than him and nobody in his group seemed to understand it as well as you were.

“Fine,” he runs a hand through his hair, the white sticking out between his fingers like snow perched on grass.

Your brows furrow, your lips pursing together in sudden confusion.

“What, okay,” you fiddle with your fingers, tugging on them in that anxious way you always do, watching him tighten the straps on his bag, “But wait, what time…” You try to call out but he has already left, his robes swaying behind him as you stand alone at your seat.

You slowly begin to pack up, your thoughts running at what you have just done.

—

The potions exam went well enough, but you couldn’t stress out about it too much right now.

After dinner (which you ate earlier than most, too anxious to be late), you made your way to the library, found a table near the back, somewhere that didn’t get a lot of foot traffic, and set up your workstation for the time being.

Amongst many of the amenities Hogwarts had, the library was one of them you loved dearly.

It wasn’t usually too busy, but it filled up quickly the night before some exams. But you didn’t mind it, you liked being surrounded by people. In the Slytherin common rooms, you usually had to wait until everybody had filtered out or had gone to bed before you could make your way down, not wanting to face their icy looks or the way they’d talk behind their hands when you were near, so you opted to be in the library above anything else.

The muted sounds of pages turning, of people talking in hushed whispers, and the books that would sometimes rearrange themselves were calming. You liked the candles that were lit carefully around the large room, illuminating it deep into the night.

You made sure that the work you had already written was set out, your quill resting straightly adjacent to it, your ink pot above it. Your pile of books sat neatly to the left. You wanted to seem as organized and as composed as you could, this might be your one chance to show the prince of Slytherin that you weren’t the slob he must imagine you as.

The clock on the wall ticks, and you note that it’s nearly ten minutes till five. You chew on your lips, cracking your fingers as you keep your eyes trained on the door, waiting for the familiar mop of white hair to appear.

After the first ten minutes, you begin fidgeting again, moving your papers centimeters above where they were as if they could appear any straighter. You weren’t wearing the usual house robes, and you hoped that your decision didn’t cause him to walk in, scan the area, and leave because he didn’t see what he expected to see.

But you pushed those worries aside, just doing your best to watch the people who filed in and out of the large double doors.

After the clock struck six, you began to stop looking at the doors, instead choosing to just get some work done while you were here, and opened up one of the books. Of course, he probably just lied just because he wanted to. There might be some of his friends standing outside, snickering as they watched you wait stupidly.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling like an idiot.

For the next half hour, you busied yourself with reading about the start of the animagus process, about the mandrake leaf, and the strenuous process of keeping it on your tongue for an entire month.

Around you, you could hear the scrapping of chairs on the floor, and how most of the people were beginning to leave seeing that it was getting pretty late. The library closes promptly at eight, and although it was an hour till that happened, most people left till then.

Your eyes flitted to the door, not seeing anybody, and deflated.

Stupid, you repeated in your head.

So you began shutting the books strewn out in front of you, packing them all up in your bag as you rubbed at your tired eyes. Madam Pince also made a deal if you left any ink splotches on the table, so you cast a quick tergeo charm to clean up any spots you might’ve missed.

“You’re leaving?”

You looked up from the table, eyes squinting to see his tall figure standing in front of you, his face flushed red, sweat dotting on his brow bone as a bit of his hair stuck to his face. Gojo was panting, his chest heaving up and down as if he had just run across the entire castle, and his brows were creasing in the middle, looking down at you as you seized your packing.

You note his green quidditch robes and muddy boots.

“I, um,” you looked at the nearly empty table in front of you, and you shook your head, giving him a small smile, “No, no, I just got here.”

He looked at your bag, as if not believing you, but not caring too much as he hummed in the back of throat, rounding the table, and plopped himself down in the seat in front of you.

Wordlessly, Gojo began taking out his supplies, and you figured you might as well, setting everything back up to where you initially had it. You watched as he slyly looked around the two of you, his shoulder becoming less tense when he realized it truly was just the two of you left in the library.

“Practice took up too much time,” he mindlessly explains, a clear explanation for why he looked so different from the put-together self he usually is. He pushed some of his hair out of his face, his breathing still a little erratic.

You nod, swallowing thickly as you pretend to understand the ins and outs of quidditch.

You were aware that amongst one of the many things Gojo could do, on his long lists of talents (which if there was a list would consist of his ability to speak five languages or his incredible ability to calm any creature down), was that he was an amazing seeker.

While you weren’t very familiar with how quidditch worked, despite trying to best to follow along with others' conversations as you listened in, you could understand that his forte on a broomstick wasn’t talked about just because he was Gojo Satoru.

He was fast on his broomstick, and thought it could be chalked up to the fact that every year he came to practice with the newest model, he could whize past anybody. He was nimble as well. With how large his hands were, larger than the other house seekers, he was able to secure a win for almost every single match ever since he got recruited. Last year he was named captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, so you were able to piece together that he got held up with the recent tryouts.

“That’s um,” you scratch at your arm awkwardly, “That’s alright…okay so I’ll try to be as quick as I can, but there’s a lot that McGonagall wants us to do,” you start slowly, letting his get situated as you push forward the first book that helped you out, “Oh, that textbook doesn’t help…right now,” you quickly said as you saw him pull out the assigned reading, saw how he looked at you for a second, his face scrunching up in an unreadable emotion.

“This one is good, though,” you motion to the one in front of you.

Gojo’s movements are slow as he takes it, eyes scanning over the title until he looks back at you.

He doesn’t do much talking, you decide.

“This book covers cross-species transfiguration, but it briefly mentions inter-species transfiguration. But the author referenced this one,” you pull out the other hefty textbook, sliding it over to him, “And this covers all things related to inter-species transfiguration and then goes into animagus transfigurations.”

You pause, biting your cheek to stop you from rambling on. Transfiguration was something that you could talk about forever and ever, and you’d never really talked about out loud to anybody else up until now.

“McGonagall said that the essay was on inter-species, she never mentioned animagus transfiguration,” Gojo said suddenly, pushing the two textbooks back, letting out a heavy sigh as if this was all a waste of his time.

You nod slowly, picking at some of the skin around your nails.

“R-right, and you’re right,” you quickly sputter, nodding, “But because cross-species and inter-species transfiguration are so close together, I doubt that this was what she wanted our month-long essay to be about. Which is why,” you pull out some old essays you had done earlier in the year, “I referenced back to these animagus essay’s we had done. I mean, she wouldn’t introduce us to the topic and then drop it for no particular reason, right? I suspect she wanted us to piece the two and two together.”

Gojo gently took the papers from your outstretched hand, his eyes raking over your words, and then back to the textbooks. He seemed to read it intently as if things were slowly starting to click for him.

“Which is why the textbook she gave us isn’t really helpful, because it resembles more of an herbology textbook rather than transfiguration. So I think that this textbook, if anything, should be referenced at the end of the essay, seeing how it mentions the mandrake leaf and the properties of the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth. It’s all instructions on how to become an animagus without saying it.”

His eyes, a different shade of blue in the candlelight, watched your every moment. He listened carefully as you eventually did end up rambling, watching the way your face, on its own accord, twisted into a proud smile at your clever handiwork.

You abruptly stop to catch a breath and glance up at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I went too fast,” you shake your head, rubbing your temple in your hands, tired from staring at textbooks for as long as you’ve had.

“No…it made sense,” Gojo murmurs suddenly, his lips pulled into a thin line as he quickly looks away from you, back down to his work which was now surely long after your in-depth analysis, twisting and turning that gold ring on his finger, the one he always wore, the symbol of his family crest as he looked through the books you had offered him.

You stay silent, not knowing what to do, resting back in your seat, picking your nails.

“Well, that’s all of it,” you rub your hands against your pants, your dry eyes blinking a couple of times, yearning for sleep.

“You could’ve said this during class,” he said, still reading, his attention preoccupied, as if this was a hindrance to him.

You wet your lips, trying not to clench your hand in anger, frustration, and years of pent-up emotions, as you slowly nod, pulling the leather strap of your bag over your shoulders as you begin to stand up.

“Right, sorry,” you apologize quietly, taken aback when he suddenly looks up at you, as if startled but you didn’t feel like spending any more in the presence of someone who despised you anyways, “goodnight,” you bid farewell, not noticing how he had opened his mouth to say something, scurrying out of the library as you make your way back to the common rooms before he could.

—

The next day at transfigurations, the two of you didn’t speak to one another at the beginning of class, like normal.

You took out your books like normal, as did he, and began writing silently, like normal. Everything was going normally until he suddenly paused, his hand wavering above his essay as he set his quill down, turning his head over to you.

“Can I see what you’ve written?”

You stop writing, eyes darting to the side as if you had misheard him.

Gojo points to the papers you’ve been working on as if you didn’t understand his first command.

Wordlessly, you pass it over to him.

He reads it over a couple of times, flipping through your endless pages, muttering some words to himself now and then. You would wager that compared to other people you had made far more progress in terms of how much you’d compiled, so you weren’t necessarily worried about the time restraint on this essay.

You couldn’t say the same for him, however.

You’ve never seen him look so intense, his brows furrowed and his lips pursed in clear concentration. He almost seemed frustrated, and it was a strange thing to see from somebody so usually put together.

“Our work together is too divided, it looks like we haven’t been working with each other,” Gojo says as if that wasn’t purely what was the issue.

You didn’t say anything, wanting to see what idea he’d propose.

“I need to finish the rest of these texts,” he jutted his chin to the textbooks you had given him last night, “We can work on the essay after classes are over, in the common room.”

A part of you wanted to laugh at him as if he had just joked.

But Gojo Satoru was not a joking sort of person. You rarely saw him smiling, even when with his friends, and it was even rarer for him to say something of any comedic value. Which could only mean that he was being serious and that he truly was proposing to work in the common rooms with…you.

A little snort escapes your lips, looking at him as if he were crazy. He looked at you as if you were the crazy one.

“I don’t go to the common rooms after class, it’s too busy,” you explained slowly to him, wondering if he was daft and even after all this time didn’t take the time to understand your situation.

He blinked, eyes narrowing.

“...and?”

Your head tilted to the side, confused.

“Well…there’s people there,” you explain even further.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as if you were stupid.

“Ironically, that is the point of a common room.” Gojo looks back to his essay, picking up his quill as if he were done with this conversation, but you pushed.

“Right,” you say more curtly, nose flaring, “For you, it might be. But people don’t want me there.” You say, a truth that you had to stomach, something that you grew used to after too many unsavory encounters with other Slytherins when you tried to come down to the common rooms during social hours.

“So during the hours of two to eight, you don’t go to the common room?” He didn’t even look up, his voice sarcastic, not believing such an insane thing.

“No.” You reply as if it was obvious as if he should at least know that this is why you rarely ever make an occurrence unless it’s early in the morning or late at night.

That finally gets him to stop and look at you, confusion woven into his expression.

“What?” He set his pen down again, and you noted that his eyes seemed a different shade of blue when he was confused, a little bit lighter than usual, he seemed like he was the only one not in on some sort of joke, “So from two to eight you just stay in your room?”

You shake your head, playing with your fingers.

“I’m not always in my room,” ignominy clear in your tone, “Most days I either go outside and do my homework or go to the library.”

You hate the attention this brings to you from him. You’ve never had such a long conversation with somebody in your own house, let alone Gojo. You hated the way he looked at you as if you were either lying your arse off or even worse…pity?

But you almost shook your head at that thought. The great Gojo Satoru pitying you?

“What if it’s raining?” He asked, pushing you to see if you were telling him the truth.

“Then I go to the library,” you said as if it was obvious, mainly because to you it was. This was the usual schedule that you’ve become used to over the years, something you’ve just forced yourself to become used to despite wanting everything in your soul to go to the common rooms like everybody else, to laugh at their stories, to talk about your lives, like you were supposed to.

“What if the libraries closed?”

You squirm under his heavy gaze, wondering how the topic of transfiguration got turned around to him interrogating you.

“Um, well, right now, because of the weather, I’d probably just go up to the astronomy tower if the library was closed. They don’t have lessons during the day. Or I’d probably just find a broom closet and do my work in there.”

His head tilts just a bit, his lips quirking up into a disbelieving smile as if he just caught you in your lie.

“In the dark?” Gojo presses, and you can hear the people around you already beginning to pack up their supplies, the class nearing its end. Had you spent this much time talking that you wasted nearly half an hour?

“I’d cast a lumos spell,” you argue, packing up your things as you break eye contact with him. You take your paper back, making sure the ink has dried before putting it in your bag.

“I’ll be in the library,” you say finally, making sure that was the end of it, “See you there.”

—

In some strange way, meeting up with Gojo in the library became part of your routine.

Every night at seven, after his quidditch practice would end, he’d run all across the entirety of campus to work on your transfigurations essay together.

The two of you still didn’t talk much, but it was different nonetheless.

“I’m tired,” Gojo suddenly announced, the candlelight flickering on and off from his face.

You could visibly see the dark circles that were under his eyes, how he slouched (which was uncommon for him, seeing how he usually sat as straight as a ruler wherever he was), and how he couldn’t go four minutes without letting out an exhausted sigh.

“You should take a break,” you muttered, not paying attention, head still stuck in your book as you continued to read the rest of the paragraph you were reading.

Gojo snorted, rolling his eyes at the prospect.

“I can’t take a break,” he dragged his hands across his face, “I need to finish this essay, the quidditch games in two days, and Snapes up my arse about that potion exam.”

Your eyes flickered up to his, startled at how much he had spoken, but then tried to mask your surprise by looking back down to your book.

“Potions wasn’t too bad,” you offer, “And I can finish the last bits you have,” you look back up, putting your hand out, a silent ask for him to give you whatever it was that he had written so far.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, silently passing over his stack of parchment, and you scanned through it quietly, shrugging as you nodded once more.

To be honest, the two of you were far ahead of the other students in your class. He had eventually concluded on his own that you’d be wasting more time not working together, so you guessed that he just had to suck up a bit and bite back on his pride and work with a muggle-born.

His rush to finish the essay was spurred on by the plethora of other things he needed to do, a drawback of being the prime and perfect Slytherin prince everybody made him out to be.

“You don’t have much left,” you deduce, “I can just write about the Scalivier trials,” the trial in which a man refused to register with the ministry that he was an animagus, “I’ll have it done by Saturday, I’m nearly done with my bit.”

You slide his essay back to him, but stop when you see the perplexed look on his face.

“Saturday’s the quidditch game?”.

Your eyes dart to the side, squinting a bit as you try for a laugh.

“…and?”

He scratches at his temple, tilting his head to the side. After these past couple of days working with you, he’d be wrong to say that he became more and more increasingly perplexed with you. Six years he spent watching from afar, muttering words to his friends about the absurdity of your existence, but now that he was able to see you from up close, a part of him has to agree that you’re an enigma he’s never been able to crack.

You don’t say much during class, you don’t talk to many people, and if he was being honest, in that sense, you mirrored him. You were reserved, but the times he picked and prodded at you, you seemed to open up. You don’t have any friends from what he could tell, often eating at the end of the table during the meals. He watched sometimes to see you during the common rooms during the times in which you said you never came, a part of him thinking he’d be able to catch you.

Gojo Satoru would never admit it, but in a way, he had become interested in you.

“Well,” Gojo didn’t like to be the one confused, hating being perceived as if he didn’t know everything, which is something he prided himself on most of the time, “After the game, there’s the usual…party,” he bit out, hating the word, because it was so unruly from the usual balls and galas he was forced attend, too many people sweaty and jumping, “In the common room.”

You blink owlishly at him, fidgeting with your quill, twisting and turning it around in your hand.

“Right…so I’ll be here.”

Now it was his turn to blink slowly.

Was this really that hard to understand?

“Coming to the library after a quidditch game seems a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?” He leaned back in his chair, playing with the green and silver tie around his neck. You wondered how he could bear to wear it even after classes were over, that even his most posh friend ditched their formal wear the moment they got back to their dormitories.

“Thankfully I don’t go to quidditch games, so for me, it’s just climatic,” you said, smiling at your little joke, covering your mouth as you yawned, tired and longing for your bed.

He sat up in his chair suddenly, looking even more shocked than before. This was the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emmett before and you didn’t know what to do with it.

“What? Why not?” He seemed so startled that you almost wanted to laugh. It was strange seeing somebody you had regarded as stoic look like he did now.

You shrug, rubbing your fingers across your eyes as you let out another yawn, resting your chin on your palm.

“I went once, during my first year, but everybody seemed rather annoyed that I was there, and they crowded in front of me so I couldn’t see anything,” you recall back on the memory, one that you could remember vividly, “and I don’t know,” you’re suddenly very thirsty, your cheeks heating up the more he stared at you, laughing uncomfortably, “I don’t really understand…quidditch, so it works out in the end. And I also get to have some time to myself in the common room to do my homework, you know, unlike usual.”

Gojo didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, and you tried to pretend that you had read something interesting to not embarrass yourself any further with your mindless babbling. Sure, he might be willing to work with you now, but that didn’t mean that Gojo Satoru was up for a friendly conversation with you.

You looked at him briefly, feeling your stomach churn a bit to see that he hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“Everything alright?” You asked.

He nodded, biting on the inside of his cheek as he picked up his quill, a wordless agreement that the conversation was over.

—

Transfiguration the next day went by oddly silent.

Gojo didn’t talk to himself now and then, he didn’t sigh his exasperated sigh, and he didn’t peek up every once in a while to check how much you’d written since the last time he had looked over.

You didn’t pay it much attention, keeping your head down, your eyes to yourself. Silence was better than being reminded of your muggle heritage, which even then, Gojo had yet to remind you these past weeks.

Briefly, you looked up from what you were doing to see if Professor McGonagall was walking around or sitting at her desk, but in doing so you felt Gojo shuffle a little in his seat as if he had felt your sudden movement.

“Tonight…” he started and you quickly nodded, waving off any of his worries. Of course, you chided yourself, he’s anxious about the quidditch match, nothing else.

“Yes, yes, I know, you have quidditch tomorrow. I’ll finish up what I have left and then start reading about the Scalivier trials tonight,” you finished for him, tracing some of the wood grains of the table with your finger.

He shakes his head.

“Not that - and I’ll finish up the trials by Sunday,” he’s avoiding eye contact, and if you didn’t know any better it seemed like he was trying to find his words, as if they had slipped from his tongue and were dangling in the air for him to grab, “Tonight…tonight, don’t go to the library.”

You purse your lips, trying to smile to see if that was his goal, maybe he was trying to be funny.

“Would you like to meet in one of the broom closets then?”

You felt even more lost after it seemed like he was debating taking up your offer, but his eyes shone a bright shade of aquamarine, and his cheeks twinged a slight shade of pink.

Strange.

“No,” he chewed on his lip, as if he were anxious, a preposterous thing to even think, “No, come down to the common rooms around eight.”

The cursed clock tower chimed, three loud rings, and it cut the two of you off once again.

“Look, I told you-” you go to say but he cuts you off.

“I know, just come down.” He was being so cryptic, and he looked so on edge that it was starting to freak you out. He was already beginning to pack up, his eyes snapping to his group of friends that were nearing the two of you, and he quickly looked back down at you, his head dipping down urgently.

“Eight. Be there.”

—-

You couldn’t say you weren’t at least a little apprehensive.

You were so nervous that you just stayed up in your room, not even coming downstairs for dinner as you waited for the clock on the wall to read eight.

Why were you so nervous? You first asked yourself, but then asked the more logical question, what did Gojo want with you?

The minutes on the clock seemed to take hours to pass, and the hours seemed to take days. It was such a slow process, and you knew it would be going faster if you were doing something more productive with your time until it was necessary, but you couldn’t.

The other girls in your dorms could come in and out, sometimes exchanging glances with their friends when they saw that you hadn’t moved from your spot, but they didn’t ask any questions, opting to just leave you be.

You were picked at your fingers, cracking your knuckles, and finally, finally, the small hand pointed to the eight on that ancient clock.

Funnily enough, even though you had been mentally waiting for this to happen, you waited for a couple of seconds, trying to calm yourself down, nodding to yourself that this wasn’t anything big and that you were just overreacting.

Slowly, you rose from your spot on your bed, a little dent in the mattress from just how long you’d been sitting there. You turn the handle of the door, taking in yet another deep as you take a tentative step outside the safe sanctity of your room.

The common rooms are usually more busy on Friday nights, and that might’ve been a blessing in disguise as you’re able to slip past most people, keeping your eyes peeled for a flash of white hair.

You scan the couch area, the sitting area, and the large window that looks into the black lake, but you don’t see him. It’s only until you look near the entrance to the common room, the large oak double doors, do you see him.

It seems like he’s scanning the area as well, blue eyes looking everywhere until they fall onto yours, and you’re able to sneak past some people watching as he cocks his head in the motion of the doors, and before you could do anything else, he leaves, and you take it as your sig to follow him.

You’re glad that nobody’s looking your way as you push the two doors open, looking to your right to see him waiting for you.

You go to open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“Follow me, and be quick,” he’s already walking and you have to nearly jog to get to him, walking at a much faster pace seeing how his legs were abnormally long, “Put these on over your clothes.”

Gojo throws you a pile of ratty-looking uniforms, but the more you open up the folded mess you come to realize that they’re old quidditch uniforms. In fact, when you’re finally able to get a good look at him you realize he’s wearing adoring green robes.

You don’t say anything, multitasking as you walk and shrug over the (huge, it was practically dragging on the floor) robes, buttoning them up as quickly as you could without tripping over your feet, the quidditch uniform, or over the stones.

He looks at you briefly, and he’s glad that you’re too busy trying to figure out how the robes are supposed to fit over you to notice the way his lips quirked up slightly at the look of you at the moment.

“Put this on too,” he says once you're finally done, handing you another huge helmet, and you take it silently, pulling it over your head.

The helmet is way too big for you, as it nearly hangs over your eyes, and you can barely see anything with it on, and you pause, a smile making its way onto your face as you push it up only for it to fall again.

You stop walking for a second, and when Gojo looks back he sees the helmet masking most of your face up until your nose, the only thing he can see is your large grin, the sleeves of the uniform enveloping your hands, reaching to your knees, and for the first time, he hears the softest sound,

You’re giggling as you try to figure out how to tighten the straps on the helmet, not able to see where Gojo is because you have your head tilted down, struggling with the buckle until his boots come into your field of vision.

All of a sudden you feel a hand tip your helmet upwards, and your smile falters when you now see his face, the way his eyes are swirling with different hues of blues, something you notice that happened when he was battling multiple emotions at once. You can tell that there’s a small, barely noticeable smile on his face, surely from how insane you look right now.

You’ve never seen him look so at ease. His shoulders seem more relaxed, his jaw not clenched. It helped that he looked like he was smiling for once.

But there’s no time to think as you feel the brush of him on your skin, his slender and swift fingers working fast and expertly at tightening the strap under your chin. He looks focused, his white brows scrunched up the way he always does when he’s trying to figure out a transfiguration rune. You feel your breath lodge in your throat. When he’s satisfied with how it was resting on your face his hands drop to his side, and his eyes slightly widen, as if he just realized what he had just done.

He cleared his throat, looking around the hall to make sure that nobody was around, and he turned his back as he began his brisk pace out to wherever it was that he was taking you.

You walked, corrected, ran with him for a little more until he brought you to one of the openings of the castle, the one that led directly to the quidditch fields.

“Where,” you were a little out of breath, noticing how the sun was nearly about to set, and also knowing that you sure as hell didn’t have a pass to be out this late, “Where’re we going?”

“To the field,” he said, which was the answer you were most dreading.

“Right, I can see that,” you feel hot under all these layers, despite the fact that it was late October and the weather was biting at best, “Why are we going out to the fields.” The breeze that was hitting your cheeks was stinging, so you were at least glad in that aspect that the quidditch robe offered you some sort of warmth.

“Ravenclaws practicing right now,” Gojo said, turning around to look at you for a fleeting second, “I need to see what Nanami’s strategy is, and you need to learn quidditch.”

You almost trip.

And you need to learn quidditch.

His words were ringing in your head, possibly even louder than the blood rushing to your ears. He had to be lying, or have some sort of cruel prank planned out. He must be waiting for his friends to run out from behind one of the stands so that they could tie you to a tree. Not that he’s ever done that, but also not the first time it’d be happening at the hands of other Slytherins.

Because sure, while you might’ve offended him in saying you didn’t understand how quidditch worked, that wouldn’t mean that he, Gojo Satoru, the Prince of Slytherin, hater of all muggle-borns alike, would be taking time out of his life to fix this wrong.

You should’ve just run the other way, ditched the scratchy uniform somewhere, and ran back to your dormitory, somewhere where you’d at least be safe from experiencing any sort of humiliation.

But the closer that the two of you neared the stands, the more you felt confused. Because nowhere could you see any other Slytherins, and he was right, the Ravenclaw team was practicing right now, if the flashes of blue and white from above you meant anything.

Which could only mean that…?

Gojo finally stops at the stairs that lead you up the stands, his hand on the wooden railing.

“We’re going…up?”

He snorts, nodding as he ushers you to move.

“Obviously,” his voice now seems more amplified with his small and cramped winding staircase, “I’m not going to be observing them from the ground.”

You’re the one that’s ahead, so you try to go even faster so that he won’t be held up behind you, but everything is moving too fast. Did he give you these robes so that you’d seem like another player? So that you wouldn’t be marked up if you were seen out of your dormitory so late at night?

When you finally got to the opening, you were able to hear the yells that the Ravenclaw players were enhancing with one another. You hold the tarp that acted as the door above your head, heading over to one of the seats in the far back, feeling Gojo right on your tail.

It had been years since you were here since you looked out into the fields. The stands were high, and the winds were stronger up here. Gojo sat where you were, to your right, and you waited silently to see what he was going to do.

Nanami was the Ravenclaw seeker as well as the captain. You could see the flash of blonde hair as he flew by, the other team members either watching him or practicing with their respective posts.

Gojo rested his elbow on his thighs, leaning in as he observed intently.

Eventually, after a minute or two, he sat back up, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his hair ticking your temple, his nose inches away from your cheek as he began to talk.

“In quidditch, you have seven players on each side. One seeker, one keeper, three chasers, and two beaters.”

You nod, following along.

“You see number seven?” He points to the guy flying around near the three tall hoops, and you nod again, “He’s a keeper. He makes sure that the other team doesn’t get any balls into the hoops.” Gojo is leaning even closer to you now, and you can feel half of his body pressing up against yours. You feel like you're heating up, and not because of the excessive quidditch uniform you’re wearing.

“The beaters, number four and two,” he then points to the boy and the girl flying around, holding wooden bats, “try to protect their team from the bludgers; which is this black ball that sort of follows around team members, trying to knock them off their brooms. Those bats ward off the bludgers.”

You make a mental note of everything he’s saying, trying not to be distracted by the fact that you’re being given a quidditch lesson from Gojo Satoru.

“The chasers, which are the rest of them, aside from Nanami, throw around the quaffle to each other. Every time they get it through the other team's hoop, they score ten points…do you follow?” Gojo pauses, looking at you and you push your helmet up so that you can see him, giving him a confident nod.

“All that’s left is the seeker-”

“Which is you, right?” You cut him off, rubbing at your nose which was now freezing at this point.

Gojo pauses, eyes flickering to you as he raises a brow.

“I may not know quidditch but I’m not daft,” you tell him.

For a second there, you swear you could see the start of a smile play on his lips.

“Yeah,” he says, almost softly, “I’m the seeker.” You’re too busy looking ahead to notice that he’s busy looking at you, so you continue to talk.

“...plus, Kento was telling me about it a while ago. He said you were really good.”

This time, his brow raised even further.

“You know him?”

You shrug, your eyes following the quick and hurried movements of all the players, too focused on their practice to notice the change in Gojo’s voice, or overall, the change in his entire demeanor. You must’ve missed how he slightly tensed up, or the way his eyes narrowed.

“We had potions with Ravenclaw last year, remember?” You turn slightly to look over at Gojo before you go back to watching, “He helped me with some of my brews, but we talked about other stuff!” You had to raise your voice, the wind was getting stronger, “And Quidditch came up!”

Gojo’s nose flared momentarily before he swallowed thickly, his jaw ticking as he tried to focus back on the practice as well.

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, not remembering that last time he choked on his words, “The seeker catches the snitch. I can’t see where it is now, but once the snitch is caught, the game is over.” He tried to push some of the hair out of his face, getting annoyed at how it kept getting stuck in his eyes.

“I need to get something, I’ll be back,” Gojo murmured in your ear, pushing himself off of the seat as he walked in front of you disappearing down the stairs within seconds.

You glanced at where he left but found yourself looking back to the players, your face breaking into another excited smile when you began to piece together what Gojo had just told you, finally able to understand quidditch after all these years.

The sun had set and the stars were peeking out through the sky, and you watched the players as they furiously rode around, each one tense and stressed for the match that would be happening tomorrow.

You tried to hide yourself in the background as much as you could, now feeling a little more out in the open with Gojo gone.

The minutes ticked by and yet Gojo didn’t come back. Now and then you found yourself looking at the stairs, eyes darting back and forth from those on their broomsticks to where you had first entered from.

Slowly yet surely, you found yourself in that position the first night you saw him at that library.

When the Ravenclaw players slowly began dissenting from the air, running off the fields as they went in from shelter from the old, you felt a part of your stomach twist.

This was all part of his plan, you concluded, shivering to yourself as you tried not to feel let down, or even worse, like an idiot for thinking anything had changed, that you had maybe actually begun to have a friend after seven years.

You feel your eyes water, either from the wind or from everything, and you make your way for the stairs, your lips trembling as you suddenly start to feel claustrophobic under all the clothes you're wearing, your fingers slipping and sliding as you try to take that wretched helmet off of your head.

You feel like if you go any faster you’re going to trip and tumble down the stairs, and it doesn't help that you’re already too distracted with trying to take the helmet off. You sniffle, your eyes blurry as you feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You couldn’t even tell if you were thinking that in your head or saying it out loud as you neared the end of the never-ending stairs, unbuttoning the buttons of the scratchy uniform as you bundled everything up in your hands, wiping at your wet cheeks with your palm.

Amongst all the things people have done to you over the years, this wasn’t the worst. You’ve had your room ransacked, your trunk thrown into the river, your shoes stolen on multiple occasions. You’ve been called a mudblood more times than you’ve been called your own name, and none of these things were actually done by Gojo.

Perhaps you thought that deep down, maybe he could change. That maybe after all that time spent in the library, talking to you, controlling some of his laughs at your awful jokes, he saw that maybe muggle-borns weren’t as bad as he thought they were.

And yet tonight you suffered your first prank, if that’s what this could even be called, at his hands. It didn’t hurt because of its nature, but because a naive part of you actually thought that he could’ve been your friend.

But none of that mattered now, not that you-

“Where are you going?”

You stop in your tracks, your head whipping around to the voice.

It was now fully dark outside, the moon and the spare candles that were lit around the castle and the stands were the only sources of light. You could see his figure standing a couple feet away from you, his white hair like a beacon in the night.

He takes a couple tentative steps closer to you, close enough so that you can see the furrow of his brows and the small pout on his lips. Damn it, you wanted to curse, you could hate him more if he didn’t look so pretty.

“Back to the castle,” you snap, wiping at the corners of your eyes, throwing down the old uniform and the oversized helmet on the ground near his feet. You sniffle, looking to the side so that you won’t have to see his face.

“What?” He steps closer to you and you take a step back, your head still turned, eyes trained on the dewy grass, “Why?” You try not to think too much about the two sets of brooms in his hands, or how for some strange reason, he actually sounded dejected that you were leaving.

Letting out a shaky breath you laugh curtly, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up to the sky, counting the stars, wondering if that could calm you down.

You hear the grass crunch under his feet, the warmth of his body as he comes in close to you.

Why does he care?

“I brought you a broom,” he holds it to you so you can see the outline of it, “Here,” he bends down to pick up the helmet you had thrown to the ground, “At least put this on,” he’s already securing it on your head, not noticing the way your lips were trembling, his fingers brushing up against your chin once again but you don’t him faster it, smacking his hand to the side as you rip the helmet off your head, throwing it with more force on the ground.

“S-stop,” you murmur harshly, wiping at your cheeks, “Stop, stop whatever it is you’re doing-”

“I’m not doing anything,” he snarls, his eyes a dark shade of navy blue, “So stop crying, I don’t know what it is you think I did.”

He’s angry now, good, it’ll be easier to yell at him if he’s just as amped up as you are.

But when you finally look at him and get to see his face, it’s not the kind of anger you’re feeling. His eyes are narrowed, his eyebrows pulling together down the middle the way they do when he’s confused, the way you often see him looking like when he’s frustrated at your cursed transfigurations essay. He’s not angry at you because of you, he’s angry because he doesn't understand where your frustrations are coming from.

He’s at least a head taller than you, looking down as his chest heaves slightly, waiting for you to say something, anything, so that he could explain himself for whatever it is he’s done wrong. His cheeks are a little pink, either from the cold or…something else, and his hair is messy, no longer kept the way it usually is.

Gojo looks different.

And you don’t know who it was that moved in closer, whose rational mind slowly turned irrational as you two took another step towards the middle, but all you do know is that the two of you didn’t care as you roughly grabbed him by his robes, tugging him in as you slammed your lips to his.

It happened in an instant, your lips moving against his soft one, your hands gripping onto that fabric for dear life. And for a second, you begin to pull away, your eyes opening in shock, but there’s no use, because Gojo slams his lips down onto yours as he pulls you into his chest.

It’s rushed and messy, your teeth clash against one another, your hands going up from his chest as they intertwine around his neck, your fingers tugging on his long white strands and you hear him groan into your mouth.

He moves fast, biting at your lips, one hand sprawled on the expanse of your back, the other one behind your neck, almost cradling the back of your head, tilting your head upwards to meet him. His tongue prods at your lips, and somehow, mindlessly, you part them a little more, moaning quietly at the way his tongue explores your mouth.

Gojo leads you a little back, so that you’re up against one of the wooden pillars of the quidditch stands, offering you more stability, a good thing, seeing how you feel like you're becoming lightheaded, soon about to faint.

“Fuck,” he whispers, heavy on your lips as he dips down again to kiss down your chin tilting your head up to expose the column of your neck, “Fuck,” he says once more, diving down as he sucks and bites at your skin, his movements growing faster and more erratic once he hears the soft and sweet mewls that escape your swollen lips.

“G-gojo,” you whine, feeling hot as his hands travel across your chest, cupping your tits through your thin sweater as he continues to kiss down your neck, tugging some of the material down so that he could leave even more marks across your collarbone, “G-god, oh my god,”

His pants tighten at your voice, his pupils dilate at the way you're pawing at him, pulling at him, needing him.

“Satoru,” he says against your skin, “Not Gojo. Not you.”

He’s delirious, he kisses you like you’re the air he’s been missing his entire life, and holds you to him as if you’re the only furnace in a land barren with snow. He needs you.

Your fingers are lost in his hair, pulling and tugging, hearing the way his breathing stutters when you do so.

One of your hands drops down to his chest, feeling at the skin that’s exposed from where his uniform was pulling up, and when your cold fingers make contact with the skin resting taunt on his stomach you swear you could hear him almost whine, his head momentarily dropping into the crook of your neck as he urges you to continue, holding your wrist tightly, pushing it up further.

Your eyes find his, your breathing coming out in short spurts, and he seems so far gone, so transfixed with how you look under him, that the two of you fail to hear the footsteps that come near where the two of you were.

“Who’s there?”

A voice calls out, and you see somebody behind him standing with a lantern.

You push Gojo off of you, but he stays put, looking over his shoulder, shielding your body with his.

“Oh, fuck off Taylor,” Gojo calls out, anger and irritation laced into his voice.

The boy's eyes widen when he realizes how it is, the blue and white Ravenclaw robes dashing away into the distance, the lantern long gone in a matter of seconds, but it’s no use.

When Gojo looks down at you, you’ve been given too much time to come back to your senses.

You push him away from you, and this time he moves.

You take a deep breath, not looking at him as you wipe at your spit-soaked lips, blinking rapidly as you try to make sense of what happened.

He didn't say anything, but you could hear the quiet pants that escaped his lips, trying to catch some air.

You open your mouth to say something but close it promptly, shaking your head in disbelief.

You don’t think twice as you make your way back to the castle.

---

(part two)

taglist (CLOSED): @satorusemepls, @mokonasenpaiposts, @kao-ri, @rinxgojo, @notsochillnerd, @astral-hydromancy, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron, @tedbunny333, @13-09-01, @mynameislove1, @hyunsuks-beanie

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retiredteabag · 8 months ago

Text

I believe Nanami has always been a gentleman.

Due to the climate that exists, it can be hard to assume the best of people, knowing this, its not impossible to understand that in your time being a classmate of the man, you had previously been led you to figure the opposite of Nanami Kento.

Of course, you simply could not avoid the blatant roll of eyes when Nanami would bend down to retrieve a fallen pencil for his female classmate. Or when he would place an intentional hand on firm objects to protect from the possibility of future harm. And it would be remiss to not add that you had seen the men in your shared classes sigh anytime Nanami would defend a predominantly feminist sentiment in classroom discussions.

By no fault of your own, you had started to believe the masses that would perpetuate the rumor of his “white knight" status.

This assumption that Nanami was simply trying to get into a girls pants. By being kind and gentle with them, and by being a patient, learned, listener.

This idea all came to a front one day while you were on the train ride home.

Overfilled and uncomfortable, you had never felt so unsafe on your commute home than you had in that moment.

Call it hyper vigilance, but you had the intuition to locate a problem before it occurred. And even before the man, now plastered to your side, had weaseled his way into your proximity, you could smell the poor intentions from a mile away.

Fear sprung through you as you felt his body press against your own, you had a million thoughts flood your brain.

Should you shout at him? Make a scene? Would he accuse you of overreacting? Or perhaps you should simply try to move… but where to? You felt so terribly trapped that you couldn’t withhold the gasp that left you at the sudden ripping loss of his unwanted touch.

A commanding voice, unafraid of accusation, rang through the train car.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You recognized the tall blond man immediately. He was in your ethics and rhetoric classes, and was notorious for being a real gentleman.

The typical assumption was, that this was for his own personal gain.

And, of course, being nice and being kind are not the same. He, to your knowledge, was being nice, instead of the latter.

Back to the moment at hand though, Nanami’s grasp never faltered on the perpetrators wrist, in fact, your classmate seemed to tighten his fist.

“I said. What the hell. Do you think. You’re doing.”

Real anger resounded from his tone. And every negative emotion from the situation seemed to echo in your brain.

Time passed slowly, all too slowly, and yet, before you could really understand the situation, you had ushered yourself onto your platform after your transport had come to a stop. And somehow, your classmate was staring down at you, asking if you were alright.

“I’m fine.” You force out.

You shouldn’t have to feel grateful nothing worse happened, you shouldn’t feel glad you weren’t physically harmed.

“I’m sorry. This must have been awful…” Nanami runs a hand through his hair and in that moment, all of your vitriol forces itself onto him as he finishes, “May I walk you home?”

Fury at his character, at this act, at everything that had happened today boiled the words out of your mouth, “Oh, for heaven sake, I’m not going to fuck you.”

“W-what?”

To his credit, he looks properly appalled. Stepping a wide margin away from you.

“I’m-I’m sorry, no.” He stutters, clears his throat, “that’s not what I- of course not-“

And he looks genuine in his fear at the thought.

“Right.” You sigh, “Well, thanks for all that, but I need to get home.”

He seems to wage a war within himself, to offer to bring you home, or to leave this be.

After a moment of consideration, he decides on the latter of the options. Solely because he knows now that you must not think of him as a trustworthy or safe individual. And rather than angry at this thought, he is sad. Worried about your past, and determined to be a safe option for you.

“Please get home safe.” And later you will wonder how he remembered you when recalling how he spoke out your name before saying, “I really am sorry, about all of this.”

You had walked home that night jumpy and cold.

—

It wouldn’t take but a week for you to begin questioning his intentions again after you watch your classmate deliver bagged lunches for the homeless outside of campus when he thought nobody was around.

When you had witnessed his genuine argument with another “one of the bros” after disagreeing with them in class.

And when you saw him offer to tutor any and all classmates that felt they might need a little help.

And while you were analyzing his motives, he started to develop his understanding of where you were coming from- eventually deciding that his goal would be to prove to you that he never had any ill will, and instead, cares for you as a human. Not for what you could offer him.

You don’t know yet, but he always has been a gentleman.

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majoryeager104 · 5 months ago

Text

Number One Girl In Your Eyes

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You’ve liked Katsuki since you first met him, and yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you, even though it’s obvious how much that hurts you.

A/n; Reader high-key acts like me so if you’re an overthinking hopeless romantic I gotchu <3

Warnings: angst with a sweet ending

1.4k word count

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

You'd been in his atmosphere for ages. Hours spent in classrooms, training, or just talking in the dorms, you'd always been there. And yet it seemed like he never looked your way, even though it also seemed you were always looking his.

What a foolish thing, love. Riveting and torturous, always getting in the way of your thoughts, seeping through the cracks in your resolve like water poured down a sink, draining every other emotion until the only thing flooding your brain was him.

Or maybe this was something else. Maybe this was some other form of longing, jealousy, or maybe even loathing. Maybe the real reason that narrow gaze made you flush was because you hated the man, and no one would blame you for it. He was stubborn and mean and abrasive and cruel, a personality to match the quirk. And yet you were drawn in nonetheless.

Love or loathing, it didn't matter. He didn't care anyways. He never noticed your stares, he didn't care for your compliments when you'd give them on just how cool you thought his quirk was, and he certainly didn't notice you sitting there right next to him, silently pleading that he just look at you.

The common room was filled with chatter and laughing, your friends on the couch to your left. Mina had made sure that you'd end up with the seat next to Katsuki, smiling at you as she made her millionth attempt to play matchmaker. But today you were too tired for the antics, so you just sat quietly drinking some water, never letting your eyes linger too long on the boy next to you.

It was a weekend, and yet you and the rest of class 1-A had trained for hours, working yourselves to the bone. Your arms and legs felt so numb that it was one of the only things you could think about. One of, not the, because you were also thinking about the way Katsuki had so casually slung his arm over the back of the couch behind you while talking with Kirishima.

Mina giggled at you when you met her eyes, she'd noticed it almost as quick as you did, but she pretended otherwise when Katsuki glanced at her, wondering just what was so funny. You kept you gaze down, trying to block off your thoughts, block off Mina's stifled laughs, block off Katsuki fucking Bakugo as those narrow eyes landed on you too.

But that voice was something that you couldn't block off.

"You did good today" he said bluntly, and you blinked up at him, your resolve broken under his long awaited attention. And yet, despite finally getting him to even breathe your way, you still couldn't trust it. Don't get your hopes up, not yet. "…me?" You asked, your voice almost as uneasy as you actually were.

He scoffed. "Yeah you, idiot. Who else?" He retorted, his eyes crinkling slightly as he furrowed his brow "don't be nervous around me, it's annoying." He added, and with that, he turned his gaze away once more. You were speechless, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Kirishima looked between you, Katsuki, and then Mina, and surprisingly caught on pretty quickly, speaking up. "Hey, Bakugo, be a little nicer to her" he butted in, giving you a sort of reassuring look. But between him, and Mina, and Katsuki coming up with some retort, you just felt… awful.

Why did your friends have to go through these hoops for you? Why couldn't you do it yourself? No, you'd already tried a million times, all failing miserably, just to get the guy you'd liked since you started at UA to look at you. You'd done enough. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn’t he just…see you?

Before Katsuki could snap out a response to Kirishima, or even say anything else to you, you'd gotten up from the couch, and began walking towards the door. You didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Maybe it was loathing, because you now wanted nothing more than to ignore your crush as much as he ignored you.

Mina called you back, Kirishima scolded Katsuki, and everyone else stood around confused about the scene as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t bother looking back as you hit the button up. The one time he’d talked to you in earnest, and you ran away. You felt stupid for all of it.

You stepped into the elevator, clicking the button, your eyes on the wall as someone slid into the elevator with you. You looked up, beyond surprised to see Katsuki, standing right next to you with his arms crossed, letting the elevator door closed, leaving you stuck alone with him.

“What are you doing” he said bluntly, stepping slightly closer. You stared at him, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks for a moment before you looked away. “Heading to bed. This is the girls elevator you know” you said quietly. At that he scoffed and moved closer. “I know.” He muttered, leaning against the wall in front of you

He was quiet for a moment as the elevator began to move before he finally spoke up, saying a gruff “Why’d you get upset?” Under his breath. You looked up again, sighing. “I'm not upset-” “like hell you’re not” he interjected, standing straight, looming so close to you, those narrow eyes, always trained on something or someone else, were now totally and utterly fixed on you.

“You’re a terrible liar. Just be honest with me, and quit trying to act like I didn’t upset you.” He said it so honestly, his voice going quieter again as he stared at you, continuing. “Did I upset you?”

You stared at him, feeling dizzy as the elevator door opened. He looked at it and then back at you, groaning in frustration as he dragged you out into the hallway. “Which rooms yours?” He asked, and, totally confused, you just pointed and he dragged you through the door, looking around. “You suck at decorating” he said bluntly before sitting you down. “What’s. Wrong?” He repeated, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You were still so confused. Why did he care so much? Why would Katsuki fucking Bakugo be so concerned that he knelt in front of you like this? Did he actually feel bad? Did he actually care about you?

At that thought your struggle slipped out faster than you could stop them. “I like you. And I wish I didn’t” you whispered, your words falling into the silence of your room as he knelt in front of you, his expression as unchanged as ever.

The both of you were silent for a moment, just staring at each other. Your breath was rather rapid, and there was no hiding your blush now. Why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that why did I-

“Seriously? That’s it?”

You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle in his voice as he spoke up. “I knew that.” He said simply, standing up. “Like I said, you’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could respond, or even grasp his words, he was already walking towards your door. But he stopped at the door, as if sensing your confusion. “Your decorations aren't… terrible… and I guess I like you too”

Your breath caught in your throat. he said that last part so quickly as he opened the door and walked through, saying a quick goodnight before closing it behind him. what the hell just happened? Best believe you’d be pondering the answer all night

Meanwhile, Katsuki was walking back down the hall to the elevator, taking deep breaths as he adjusted his uniform tie. he didn’t know why he let that slip out, but he knew it’d make you feel better…maybe. god he hated it when he couldn’t think things through before he spoke.

The truth is, Katsuki had never ignored you. He’d never tell you that though. The glances he’d steal at you were much quicker taken. Shitty hair knew, hell, even Dunce-Face Kaminari knew. But he’d swore off ever telling you. He had too much he wanted- no- needed to do first. But now, those plans were a bit muddled.

And, despite what he said, he didn’t actually know you liked him back. He just said that in an attempt to deflect. What an idiot. A stupid, secretly lovesick idiot.

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

Part 2?

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hy6erion · 3 months ago

Note

Can I please- PLEASE request like a fluffy Jayce x reader…. I love this man feral as much as the next person but omg he has such good manners and is such a gentleman. Like obviously he’s popular in the academy but I wouldn’t be surprised if people fawn over like one time they bumped into him and he was super sweet about it. My brain can’t get rid of the idea of reader walking through the halls of the academy holding equipment/books- STRUGGLING. The things they are holding are too heavy or too tall for them to see over. When Jayce sees this he just can’t stand for it. When reader thanks him they comment on how sweet he is for helping and there’s just something about the way they said it that makes him need more. Jayce now finds himself glancing around when he should be paying attention to the important conversation just in case he sees them rounding the corner needing his help again. Wet dog coded man I just UGGHH- Sorry if this is boring as fuck I just can’t cook with prompts-

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝?

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

The Academy’s corridors always buzzed with movement, especially around midterms. A storm of students swept between classrooms with stacks of parchment, vials, and gear tucked under arms or magically levitating just inches from their shoulders. But even in that organized chaos, you stood out.

Not for anything dramatic—there were no explosions or golden runes trailing in your wake like some prodigious student of Hextech.

No, it was the way you struggled.

The stack of textbooks and equipment in your arms was too tall, teetering as you shuffled along, eyes completely hidden behind bindings and brass. A rolled schematic slipped a few centimeters out of place with every step. One wrong movement and you’d trigger an academic avalanche across the entire main hallway.

Jayce saw you out of the corner of his eye. He had been half-listening to a conversation about research funding—something he should care about. Professors, student body reps, all of them standing around in a little knot in front of the glass exhibit. But when you passed, laboring under a ridiculous amount of gear, your boot catching slightly on the lip of a stair—

He was gone before he even realized he’d stepped away.

“Woah—hey! Let me help with that” Jayce called, already reaching out to catch the top book before it tumbled.

You froze, startled, and then someone was lifting the stack clean out of your arms. Blessed weightlessness. You blinked through the space that had just been an impenetrable wall of pages and polished metal.

Jayce Talis.

Up close, he was even more golden than rumors suggested. Tousled hair, stupidly symmetrical face, and broad shoulders that made you acutely aware of how lopsided your bag was. He grinned, cocky but warm, holding your mountain of items like it weighed nothing.

“You were about two seconds from being buried alive“ he said, amusement dancing in his voice. “This for a project or are you training for a weightlifting competition?”

Your face flushed. “It’s—uh. Both? I mean—no. It’s for my Hex Design course. We have to submit schematics and physical models, and Professor Ghiren doesn’t believe in carts apparently.”

Jayce’s brow rose. “Ghiren? Yikes. That explains a lot.”

You laughed softly, and the sound tugged at something behind his ribs.

“Thanks“ you said, quieter now, but with a weight behind it that didn’t match the airy words. “You’re really sweet for helping.”

Sweet.

No one ever called Jayce that.

Brilliant? Sure. Talented? Absolutely. Arrogant? Frequently. But the way you said sweet—so genuine, almost in awe, like you weren’t just thanking him for help, but surprised by the kindness itself…

It landed somewhere deep in his chest. Settled there.

Jayce blinked, suddenly unsure of what to say. That wasn’t like him.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Uh—want me to walk you to your lab?”

You gave a hesitant nod. “Only if it’s not a bother…”

“Not at all“ he said, already matching pace beside you. “You might need backup if Ghiren has you carting any more cursed prototypes.”

⸻

The whole thing took maybe ten minutes. Ten minutes of small talk, of you fumbling with your badge to open the lab door while Jayce carried your work like some personal bodyguard of academia. Ten minutes where he laughed at your commentary about your finicky prototype, and you—well, you smiled like you hadn’t expected him to understand what you were talking about. Like you were used to being brushed off.

When he handed the last of your equipment onto a cluttered table and left you with a casual wave and a “see you around” he told himself it was over. A nice moment. A good deed.

But—

Later, back at a student council meeting, his eyes flicked toward the door every time it opened.

Just in case it was you again.

Just in case you were overloaded, drowning in heavy boxes, needing a hand and smiling at him like that.

It became a pattern. Jayce would walk the long way to class under the pretense of “clearing his head”—but really, it was the hallway where he’d met you. He started recognizing the way your laugh echoed off stone walls, the exact squeak of your lab shoes. Sometimes you passed him in the halls with your head down, still juggling too many things, and his hand would twitch at his side, aching to take the weight again.

He didn’t even realize how obvious it was until Viktor elbowed him during a lecture.

“You’re doing it again.”

Jayce jerked his head back toward the front. “Doing what?”

“Looking for them“ Viktor said without missing a beat, voice dry. “Should I start building you a radar? Something to track when your favorite hallway gremlin is in distress?”

Jayce flushed. “I’m not—! I mean, I’m just—helping.”

Viktor hummed. “Sure. And I’m a seven-foot enforcer from Zaun.”

Jayce tried to ignore him, but it only got worse after the second time you needed help. He’d been in the courtyard, getting coffee, when he saw you wrestling with a crate of raw materials clearly meant for three people.

He crossed the entire quad in seconds.

“You again” he said, out of breath and smiling.

Your eyes lit up. “Jayce! You really are everywhere.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing” he grinned, taking the crate.

It was dangerous, the way you looked at him after that. Fond. Grateful. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t tease him about being famous, didn’t act like it was some passing favor. Just looked at him, said something like “You’re always so kind to me“ and smiled like he’d done something extraordinary.

Jayce could invent ten new technologies and he still wouldn’t feel as proud as he did in those moments.

⸻

Now, he doesn’t even pretend.

He lingers near the workshop halls when he knows your class is ending. Spends too long “testing” things on the lab floor just in case you walk by.

And when you do—

“Need a hand?”

Every single time, like clockwork. And every time, you let him. Your arms let go of the weight, and he carries it for you like it’s sacred. Like it’s the only thing that matters.

One time, you laugh and say, “You know, I think I’m starting to count on you being there.”

Jayce swallows hard. “Good. I want you to.”

You blink up at him.

“Want me to… what?”

“Count on me,” he says, too soft, too real. “Anytime.”

#✰⍣ 𝐡𝐲𝟔𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 #arcane x reader #x reader #jayce talis arcane #arcane jayce x reader #jayce arcane x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce x reader #jayce talis x gn! reader #jayce talis x fem!reader

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neilissevered · 1 month ago

Text

SCARS AND SOUVENIRS

After Su-ho falls into a coma, Si-eun is consumed by guilt and isolation, pushing everyone away—even you, the one who stayed. Yeon Si-eun x gn! Reader takes place when Su-ho fell into a coma, mild angst, hurt with comfort, slow burn, it gets lighter towards the end I swear wc: 6k+

an: Hello! This is my first time writing for whc, and I love Si-eun so much (I'm a Si-eun truther fr) anyways, this might be a little study on his psyche after the events of Su-ho, like how it affected him emotionally, physically, and socially. (So this is going to be LONGG) And it makes me wonder how he dealt with that and how someone could possibly help him. I hope you can enjoy this fic!

Edit: this turned out longer than I expected😭 each scenes are separated by a divider!!

It’s strange how guilt works. It consumes unforgivably, and it doesn't matter whether the person deserves it or not.

Si-eun was no exception as he stood transfixed, gazing at Su-ho's motionless body. The rhythmic hiss of the ventilator, the only sound breaking the silence, seemed like a cruel irony—a mechanical substitute for life, barely sustaining Su-ho's fragile existence. The mere thought that his friend might be slipping away, irretrievable, sent a chill down Si-eun's spine, filling him with an unspeakable dread.

How did it all happen so fast? He does not know. It’s beyond his knowledge. No amount of textbooks can give him the answers that he needs.

Because when he finally finds something good, something tangible, he has to be the one to watch it all crumble away.

Si-eun admits he isn’t good with friends.

God, much less a friend group that has an odd mix of people. He, the ‘human calculator’ as the others would comment, you and Beom-seok being the new transferees, and Su-ho, who has made the school his home. He’d grumble, brood, and even nearly stuff his ears with cotton because the combined noises that his three friends made were equal to an entire classroom during break time.

He clung to the memories of those chaotic moments, cherishing every second as if they had occurred yesterday. It felt like an eternity ago when he was desperately trying to keep their group from falling apart. He vividly recalled the struggles of understanding Beom-seok's motives on Young-yi, of restraining both you and Su-ho from making reckless decisions, as the situation spiraled out of control like a runaway train.

The weight of those responsibilities still lingered, making his heart heavy with the burden of what could have been.

Jealousy happened,

Secrets were made.

Punches were landed.

And kicks were delivered to the head.

Now, you and Si-eun were left with the debris of the destruction. Both left to gather the pieces, desperately trying to go back to how it was before. Even when the damage had already been done.

That would have been okay, a lesson-learned moment. Just start again, right? But as you gazed into Si-eun's eyes, you realized that he, too, was spiraling gradually, with his grip on reality being tenuous at best.

And god, how much you wanted a solution to everything. But how could you make one when even Si-eun can’t?

So now, you are here. In a classroom that has become a shell.

Sometimes, if you doze off during a lecture or if you close your eyes a little tighter, you could hear it—the cackles of laughter, the teasing, and the little calculated voice that always comes right after. You can sense it too, in the air, where something or someone is missing. And you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the empty seat next to the door.

You glance around the classroom, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Your gaze falls on your classmates, who are chatting and laughing with each other, completely carefree. It's as if they're oblivious to the pain and suffering you and Si-eun endured, like they're living in a different world.

The bitter, awful taste settles in your mouth, like a sour lemon drop dissolving on your tongue. You can't help but wonder how they can be so normal, so indifferent, while you're still reeling from the trauma. It's like they're pretending nothing ever happened, and that's what makes it so infuriating.

But really, it felt like you were on your own with suffering.

You look towards Si-eun, honing in on his textbooks as usual, posture slightly slouched as he takes notes, earbuds stuffed into his ears. From an outsider's view, it just looks like Si-eun being Si-eun.

But for you? There’s tension all around him. The guilt and suffering are too suffocating when you get close. What was once warm between you two has now turned cold and stale. His back faces your front, acting as a wall, and he sits there in front of you like a stranger.

And oh, how it toyed with your heart. Because this was your only friend left.

Young-yi was gone, having distanced herself from your group ever since she saw the state Su-ho was in. It makes sense to stick closer to Si-eun. To figure out a way to slowly mend things. To be there for Su-ho until he wakes up.

But no matter how much you stared, knowing that Si-eun could feel your intense gaze, he would not look back. He would not even acknowledge you.

He left you there in your world. And for the entire day, you switched between staring at the empty pages of your notebook and the empty seat beside the door.

“Si-eun.”

“Si-eun, it’s lunch time, we should get something to eat.”

He hasn’t been eating, you noticed. Like you also noticed the heavy bags under his eyes or how pale and cracked his lips have gotten. He can keep pushing you away if that’s what he wants. But you're firm. You'll wait patiently, ready to offer a lifeline when he's ready to accept it.

He does not say anything. Not even spared you a glance as he took out his earbuds and crossed his arms to lay his head down on the table.

You stood frozen, a statue of silence, as the heavy air between you hung like a challenge.

But you didn’t push. You left and came back to leave snacks on the space beside his head—a silent way of saying that you were still there, and you were going to wait for him to come to you when he was ready.

And that was it.

For weeks, you orbited his world, a constant but invisible presence. Not touching, not speaking, just silently there. And as you gazed at his back, a mix of concern and longing swirled within you, leaving you to wonder if somehow, you could absorb the weight of his guilt. To ease the pain that seemed to pull him down. To set him free.

Si-eun: “Su-ho, today felt just the same as it did weeks ago. I visited your grandmother last night. She’s okay. She told me Young-yi still calls now and then. Dropping by on the rare occasion, and she seems to be okay as well. I’m being transferred to a new school soon after finals. Thankfully, it’s not too far from here. I hope you’re doing well. Wake up soon.”

You and Si-eun would visit the hospital after school.

In reality, though, it felt more like shadowing Si-eun as you followed him. It had been a while since you walked beside him. For some reason, the closeness of that felt too much. It’s like the tension between the two of you would pop if you stayed too close. It made your hands clammy and your jaw tense while you tried to focus on matching his footsteps to ground yourself.

You’re both so painfully aware of each other that it hurts. Breathing the same oxygen, sharing the same memories—and yet he’s so close, but so far. You missed him.

Moments like these, you wished he would say something. Anything. Tell you to leave him alone, or stay, or just acknowledge that you existed in his orbit. That he can still see you.

But he was quiet.

To the hospital, and to the room where Su-ho stayed. He didn’t go inside, though. He stayed outside, typing away on his phone.

He was always like that, you noticed. You’re always the one inside. And maybe it was because the reality of Su-ho's condition was too difficult for Si-eun to confront. Maybe he forced himself to imagine his friend as usual, complaining about the unnecessary hospital stay, or pleading for some seaweed soup.

As Si-eun's thumbs danced across the screen, you suspected that he was sending messages to Su-ho, clinging to the hope that his friend would soon respond, and everything would go back to normal.

“Su-ho, look, your favorite drink was in stock this morning.” You brought Su-ho’s favorite drink this time. You hoped that the mention of it would make him wake up, say something cheesy and teasing while happily accepting the drink.

Sitting down at the cold, hard hospital chair, the drink in one hand, you took in the sight of your motionless friend.

The stillness was unnerving, and you felt an overwhelming urge to leave, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room. The antiseptic smell, a pungent mix of disinfectant and stagnation, hung heavy in the air, making your head spin.

You didn’t want to stay too long. You know Su-ho would hate that too. You also hated the stupid beeping of his heart monitor. It was supposed to be a reassurance, a sign that he was still clinging to life, but to you, it felt like a cruel taunt, a harsh reminder of his fragile state.

Your eyes turned glassy as you recounted the past few weeks. A lump forms in your throat as you tell the struggles of trying to be there for Si-eun, trying to wake him up from the guilt that he buried himself in.

A guilt and suffering so raw and all-consuming that you can feel yourself getting drowned in it too.

You squeezed the drink in your hand as you let out a sob. Your voice became shaky and jumbled. Phrases broke as you tried to make sense of everything. You felt defeated, as the world you once knew was no longer there.

And finally, you fell.

You fell on the fragile structure you made yourself stand in—the structure that you offered to Si-eun as a lifeline for both of you, and a silent plea that you would, and could, carry some of his burdens too. That you and your remaining friend can share the weight of it all.

Sobs shattered your entire body, no longer caring if Si-eun could hear you. You were so tired, so exhausted from keeping your own emotions in check so as not to overwhelm Si-eun with your desperation and weakness.

And as if the universe itself was mocking your despair, it rained hard. The thunderstorm matched the whimpers you let out as you held onto the drink.

You felt nothing. You felt like nothing but the overwhelming buzz of pain and desperation beneath your skin. Your head pounded with the rhythmic sounds of Su-ho’s heart monitor, your eyes blurring and unblurring each time you tried to wipe away the downpour of tears.

Overwhelmed with so much emotion, your mind gave control to your body as you abruptly stood up—the scrape of the chair against the hospital’s floor left unheard as your cries filled the room.

And you did the only thing your body wanted to do.

You ran.

You ran out of the room where your friend was tethered.

You ran away from Si-eun, his worried call of your name falling on deaf ears.

You ran out of the hospital, and in doing so, you abandoned the world you once knew.

The rain welcomed you like you belonged there, underneath the merciless droplets as your clothes became wet and soggy, clinging uncomfortably to your figure as you tried to quell your tears.

You held your chest tightly, trying to breathe and letting the rain wash out your tears. Your legs felt like lead, your body drained from the adrenaline rush that had left you spent.

You felt like sitting and wallowing in your puddle of despair without a care in the world, even if it would ruin your pants, and really, you didn’t mean to be dramatic, but you were just so confused; you and your friends are just a bunch of high schoolers.

The complexity of the situation seemed to mock your naivety, leaving you wondering how something so ordinary could unravel into such chaos.

Before you fell any further, the rain suddenly stopped. You no longer feel the droplets of water hitting your body, and you are left shivering in the cold. Slowly, you turned around

And he was there.

Yeon Si-eun was there. His face contorted to a mix of genuine concern and fear. His dark, doe eyes are glassy, almost begging you to tell him what’s wrong as he shakily holds out an umbrella over your head. You noticed his labored breathing, almost panting.

You wondered if he had chased after you. His clothes were damp, too, and you saw that the umbrella only protected half of his body.

In that moment, the rain-soaked world around you melted away, and all that mattered was the fragile connection between you and Si-eun.

He whispered your name, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, but before he could continue, you interrupted him. Your voice was laced with a mix of emotions—pain, sadness, and a hint of anger.

“Hey, Si-eun.” You gave him a pained smile. Your grin not reaching your eyes as a scoff escaped your lips, a sound that was both bitter and disbelieving. You weren't even sure yourself what emotion was driving it.

“Is this how you feel? Every day?” You asked the question, your voice barely above a whisper.

You stared right back at his eyes, and for once, Si-eun saw the hollowness that yours held. He didn’t reply. He just gazed, his eyes drilling into yours, searching for something, anything, that could explain the void you were carrying.

But he couldn't hold your gaze for long. His eyes wavered, dropping to the wet ground beneath his feet, as if the weight of your words had become too much to bear. Suddenly, he was aware of everything around him—the sound of rain, the feel of the cold air on his skin, the smell of wet clothes clinging to his body, and your disheveled state.

“Look at me, Si-eun.”

He doesn’t, he couldn’t. He’s trying to wrack his mind for something. Something to solve this. Something to fix every—

“I said, look at me when I’m talking to you!”

You grasped his shoulders as you let out another broken plea, the sudden action making him drop the umbrella that was protecting both of you from the rain. The material of his jacket wrinkled under your shaky grip as you looked right into him.

“Su-ho…he’s not gone. He’s still there. You know how strong he is. We both know that.” You lightly shook him as you spoke, as if trying to shake him awake while you broke down in front of him.

“But why, why do I feel like you’re the one who’s gone?”

“I’m right here–”

“No, you’re not!” You cried out in desperation.

And he finally looks. His mouth was slightly agape as he tried to find the right words to say. It was too much for him. The vulnerability that you bared for him. The pain that you held in your eyes, as he could feel every tremor of your hand on his jacket. He realized then that he can’t logic his way out of this.

Because Si-eun had always been the rational one. He solved things, Fixed things. Calculated outcomes and plotted next moves like it was all a chess game. But this..you?.. You weren’t an equation. He couldn’t use his pen. Couldn’t punch it out or bury it in a textbook behind silence. And that terrified him more than anything.

“He’s not coming back any faster, no matter how much you ignore me.”

For a heartbeat, there was only the sound of rain. No umbrellas. No pretense. Just the two of you, soaked and broken, under the weight of what had been lost and what still could be.

You said that last sentence in a whisper. Almost like an ultimatum. You were tired, spent, maybe about to get a fever from the cold and rain. You shakily let go of his shoulders. The sorrow in your eyes returned to its empty state the longer that Si-eun was silent.

Half-expecting him to walk away, you started to leave. Maybe to go back to your home, or a convenience store. You weren’t sure. You just wanted to be away from everything.

But before your second step even landed, you felt it. His hand wraps gently around your wrist, lightly squeezing as if begging you not to go. Not yet.

You hated that you stopped. Hated that part of you still wanted him to stop you. That some fragile, stubborn corner of your heart had hoped he’d reach for you. Just once. Just this once. Even after what you went through to finally get to him. This was your last prayer, whispered in silence.

And he heard it. Not in words, not even in the tremble of your breath, but in the way your wrist stilled under his touch, not pulling away. And the air between you was thick with everything you didn’t say. Every apology left unspoken. Every moment lost in hesitation. His hand was still on yours, unsure, as if he was still trying to figure out whether he had the right to hold you there. Or maybe he had already lost that right long ago.

But he held on anyway.

His hand remained on your wrist. Warm and almost grounding.

“Don’t go.” It sounded like a plea. Soft and wavering and so unlike the Si-eun you knew.

“I know I don’t deserve to ask that.” He added. Catching his breath for a moment while you silently listened. “After everything.”

Si-eun was aware of what he did when he distanced himself from you, his last friend. He can practically feel the desperation in your voice whenever you try to talk to him. Or every time you left food on his desk when lunchtime rolled around at school. He knew the turmoil that you were also quietly suffering in, and how his guilt slowly turned into your guilt, and his sorrow became your sorrow.

Your silence urged him to continue.

“I thought if I kept you away..I wouldn’t break anything more than I already had.” You can hear how much it cost him to say those words. He was hesitant; you can feel it in the way his grip on your wrist wavered. It was almost as if he wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to go. He won’t force you to stay.

And that’s what undid you.

You turned. You finally looked at him and you saw his eyes, red, puffy, and tired. His face was flushed from how freezing it was to stay in the rain. He looked like a boy. It made you realize how messed up all of this was. Both of you were too small for a world so big, and the burdens too heavy to carry for some high schoolers who were supposed to be reviewing for the next exam.

“I wasn’t asking you to fix anything, Si-eun.”

“I know. I see that now”

“What happened to Su-ho… It wasn’t your fault.”

He was stunned by that. His lips slightly quivered from the cold or your words, he wasn’t sure. It felt like a dam finally broke within him. And with it came silent tears. Not loud, not visible at first. Just the kind that slipped quietly from his eyes, mingling with the rain on his cheeks. The kind of crying that looked more like surrender than sorrow. A collapse too quiet to be noticed unless someone was looking.

You were.

The wound was still fresh on him, seeing Su-ho stuck on that bed became his daily nightmare, and what he did out of revenge didn’t make it any better.

For a moment, you pulled away from him and bent down to pick up the discarded umbrella, bringing it over both of you, even though you and Si-eun were already soaked to the bone.

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Si-eun.”

Finally, it feels like a weight has been lifted off both you and Si-eun. It wasn’t completely gone, of course. The pressure and the mark it left stayed there as both you and Si-eun went about your days. After that moment in the rain, you felt like you cracked his walls a little. Hope was renewed, and you had something new to cling to.

A silent routine fell between you. In the early mornings, you both walked to school, always meeting at an intersection before continuing up the street. Sometimes you would ask how he is or if he has eaten breakfast. He would do a one-word answer that was typical of him or just nod at what you’re saying.

It wasn’t like before when there was Su-ho, Beom-seok, or even Young-yi. The rowdiness of your once-friend group has left something peaceful. You missed all of it, of course. But change was change, and you accepted this one, albeit reluctantly.

You’d always admired him. His sharp mind, his laser-like focus, the way he could tune out the entire world for the sake of a problem set. It was impressive. Annoyingly so. He was the kind of student who made teachers beam and classmates groan.

But Jesus, did he ever stop?

Your physics teacher was deep in a monotonous rant about projectile motion, gravity, and God knows what else, his voice dragging across the room like nails on a chalkboard made of sleep deprivation. Meanwhile, you were locked in a life-or-death battle to keep your head from surrendering to gravity in the most literal sense. One more droning equation and you were going to face-plant into your desk, no hesitation.

So, naturally, your only reasonable option to stay alert and awake?

Challenge Si-eun, distract the genius. Stir the unshakable.

Si-eun, for his part, was completely focused. He took down notes as the lecture went on. Ignoring everything and everyone around him. It has been a while since the noise in his head finally settled. He started to sleep a little easier now, and he no longer felt too bitter about switching schools with you. Besides, he could still visit Su-ho as the hospital was a walking distance away from the building and—

Thwack!

A crumpled piece of paper nailed him right on the back of the head. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to derail whatever train of thought he was riding and bring it crashing into the station. The paper hit his collar, bounced, then rolled dramatically down his shoulder before falling onto the floor.

Si-eun blinked. Pen paused mid-stroke. He didn't even need to look back.

There was only one person bold enough to mess with him during a lecture like this.

You.

And God help you, you were grinning.

You were already leaning forward by the time he straightened up, chin propped lazily on your hand, an innocent expression on your face that was anything but innocent. Your eyes met the back of his head like you were waiting for him to combust. You can see it. The way his attention wavered, and he stopped drawing stupid diagrams. Days with Si-eun no longer felt cold or heavy. Things were finally starting to get better.

And there is no way in hell he is going to continue listening to how Newton just made math even more complicated.

When he didn’t turn around, you leaned in closer, voice just above a whisper. “Hey, Einstein.”

And finally, Si-eun sighed through his nose, eyes flicking toward the crumpled paper now lying sadly on the floor like a fallen soldier. He could already predict what would happen next.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” you asked, blinking. “I haven’t even said anything.”

“You’re thinking loud enough.”

A grin curled at your lips, mischievous and playful. Just the fact he was entertaining you with banter was already more brownie points for you. You have him hooked. “Good. Saves me the trouble of whispering.”

Still no turn. Still scribbling notes. Classic Si-eun. So you upped the ante.

You gently tapped the back of his chair with your foot. Once. Then again. A steady rhythm before you decide to drop the greatest idea you've ever had.

“I’m bored. You’re overachieving. It’s raining. Let’s skip.”

Now he turned. Just slightly. Head tilting enough to give you the meanest side-eye to ever exist as if to question your entire being. So, you responded in kind with a raise of your brow as if challenging him. He only blinked before letting out a sigh.

“You want me to skip class. Physics, of all things. To do what exactly?”

Finally. “Convenience store run. Ramyeon, hot canned coffee, maybe strawberry milk if you’re feeling nostalgic. You, me, fluorescent lights, freedom.”

You gave him a playful wink, your fingers drumming against the desk steadily and loud enough because you were trying to distract him from the teacher’s announcement of an upcoming quiz, and you weren’t losing your progress of finally getting back your friend. The bond was a little shaky, but you decided that baby steps were better than nothing.

In reality, though, Si-eun already knew about that quiz. It was announced a week ago during a lecture where you were fast asleep on your table. Drooling.

“Tempting,” he muttered, but you caught the flicker of amusement behind his eyes.

“I know you’re hungry,” you added, nudging his chair one more time. “And don’t lie and say you’re not, because your stomach made a noise two minutes ago. It sounded like a dying bear.”

“That was your pen falling.”

“No, that was my patience falling.”

He gave you a long, exasperated look—but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, there was something else there. The smallest tug at the corner of his mouth. A softening. You could almost see the scales tipping, and it only made you grin even wider. Suddenly, you didn’t care about what was happening around you. Not when you finally find that little smile that you have been working on to bring back.

And then you said, more quietly this time, “Come on, Si-eun. Just one break. The world won’t fall apart if you breathe for forty-five minutes.”

A peaceful quiet sat between you for a second. He knew what you meant, and you didn’t have to say it. He’d been carrying too much. Always pushing and enduring. There were times he would go back to his self-wallowing, where he would still accidentally push you away, and studying has always been his escape.

But today, you were offering something else. A moment outside the pressure, the guilt, the relentless pace of trying to be okay.

He looked down at his open notebook, the half-finished diagram of an arcing projectile staring back at him like it, too, was trying to convince him to stay.

And then he exhaled. A quiet, almost imperceptible surrender, and he began packing up his things.

You blinked. Leaning over his shoulder to confirm what you were witnessing, “Wait… seriously?”

“You want to go or not?” he said, zipping up his bag without meeting your eyes. “Before I change my mind and remember I have a conscience.”

You shot up from your seat, already grabbing your bag. “You had a conscience?”

“Don’t push it.”

Thankfully, the teacher didn’t care. Si-eun was transferring, and he is an excellent student on his own.

And you..well, you’re transferring with him.

The sun slanted low through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the dusty shelves. The library was near silent, the kind of quiet that felt sacred, like even time had been asked to hold its breath as students slowly filtered out of the library until it’s just you, Si-eun, and a handful of other students who buried their noses into books.

You sat across from Si-eun at one of the back tables, your notebooks spread out in disorganized chaos, while his were stacked neatly, probably even color-coded by subject, knowing him. Between the two of you were a handful of empty candy wrappers from the snacks you'd brought. Well, mostly for yourself..Si-eun had eaten two, while you’d somehow managed six. You weren’t sure why you were keeping count.

The original plan was simple: study together, then head out to visit Su-ho at the hospital. That was the plan, anyway.

But at some point, the words on the pages had begun to blur.

Si-eun leaned back in his chair slightly, brows furrowed in focus, scribbling notes into the margin of his textbook. You were supposed to be solving a physics problem, but instead, you watched him and the way the sunlight caught in the strands of his hair, how his mouth moved just slightly when he read in his head.

Has he always looked like this?

Peaceful and just absorbed in his world, but not in a bad way. You felt some pride to see how much you and he have improved compared to a few weeks ago, and Si-eun’s resilience was one of the things you admire about him.

Until you couldn’t tell where admiration ended and something else began.

You didn’t mean to speak. It just... slipped out.

“You look peaceful like this.”

His pen paused mid-stroke.

He didn’t look up immediately. You could see his shoulders tense slightly and the way his eyes blinked once, then twice, like he’d heard something he wasn’t sure he was supposed to. Because it wasn’t one of the things he predicted you would say. Maybe another convenience run to abandon all school work. But not..this.

A long moment passed.

“I’m just studying,” he said finally, voice low, almost cautious, his words carefully picked out.

“I know. That’s what makes it weird,” you replied, a soft tease in your voice to disguise the trembling truth underneath as you continued to look at him. Like, really…look. To others, it’s creepy and a little unnerving. But for you? You were just appreciating him. His doe eyes, the long flutter of his lashes, and the gentle slope of his n—

He glanced up now, eyes catching yours, and the look there was unreadable. Careful, guarded. Like, he wasn’t sure what page you were both suddenly on. But it felt like at that moment, you were sure you knew where you wanted to be.

You leaned forward just a little, elbows on the table, fingers grazing the edge of his notes.

“You don’t let yourself rest much,” you said. “Not really. But right now… You look like you can breathe.”

Si-eun blinked, clearly thrown by the tenderness in your tone.

He opened his mouth. Maybe to change the subject, maybe to deflect with sarcasm or just deadpan at you and throw something monotonous and witty—but then he stopped. Closed it again. The moment felt too raw, too vulnerable, and he knew he wasn’t good with moments like these.

Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest. Something new and foreign, and Si-eun doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

Hesitantly, he lets that feeling consume him.

“I don’t know how to anymore,” he admitted quietly. “Breathe, I mean. Not unless it’s for someone else’s sake.”

The words landed between you like a confession. Raw and unguarded. And you blinked slowly at him, as if trying to process the words he just said.

You let the silence settle, not awkward, but reverent. You reached forward, slowly, and placed your hand beside his on the table. Not touching. Just there. Close enough to feel the warmth that radiated off of him. Just close. Close enough to feel the quiet warmth radiating from his skin. There had been no tension before, but now it hummed softly between you, fragile and electric.

And in that moment, you knew everything between you and Si-eun was about to change.

He looked down at your hand that was beside his. He felt frozen in his place, unsure of what to do next.

“You don’t always have to hold everything alone,” you said. “I seriously meant what I said a few weeks ago. You don’t have to go through it alone, Si-eun.”

“I know.”

It was a Thursday.

Nothing remarkable about it, at least on the surface. It was the kind of day that existed simply to pass time, quietly folding itself into the end of the week.

The halls had emptied hours ago. On days like these, students tend to want to leave a lot earlier. Friday was just tomorrow, after all.

But for you and Si-eun, it was just another day closer to getting transferred. To start anew. Or even better, another day wherein both of you could stay longer in Su-ho’s room and do your homework there.

But today?

You woke up feeling different. Not your usual happy self. You figured it was just one of those days where the air felt heavy, and some things around you reminded you of the reality that you lived in. An empty seat beside the door, or the fact that you still held so much concern for Beom-seok.

It made you feel sick.

The entire day went by in a blur, and you just lay down on your crossed arms, trying to cover your ears to subtly muffle the noise around you. Even Si-eun noticed it.

He noticed you.

Your clipped and short answers. Your blank stare outside the window of the classroom. The way you barely touched your food.

So he came up with an excuse.

At the end of the class, he made you sit down with your books while he offered to guide you through your homework. Something about kinetic energy and inclined planes, but your brain was too tired to cooperate. Too full of everything else. Everything unspoken.

Everything you had been holding in was like water behind a dam. Breathing became a chore, and blinking became too tiresome.

You sat together in the corner of the classroom, desks pushed together, books open but long forgotten.

You weren’t sure what was heavier. The ache in your chest or the silence between you. But you weren’t trying to solve the problems anymore, and neither was he. His pencil had stopped moving ten minutes ago when he noticed you were no longer listening and saw the subtle quiver of your lips on his peripheral vision.

You sat in that quiet, not strained, but fragile. And you were the first to shift.

Your hand brushed his, accidentally at first. Then… not.

He didn’t move away.

His hand was warm, a little rough, as if the world had asked too much of him too young. But it grounded you. The moment you felt it, the weight and reality of it? Something inside you cracked open. You hadn’t realized how much you needed something steady until it was there. Until he was there. This... was his way of carrying your burdens, too.

You didn’t say anything.

Words felt like they’d cheapen it.

Instead, you let your body speak the truth your mouth couldn’t form. You leaned, slowly, carefully, until your head came to rest against Si-eun’s shoulder.

At first, he went still. Rigid.

He didn’t know how to do this, how to be this. A safe place. Not when he was used to being sharp edges and deadly intelligence, used to carrying his grief and guilt like armor.

But then you sighed. Barely audible, a breath more than a sound, and something in him shifted.

He let you stay.

He let himself want it.

And in doing so, he finally made peace, albeit briefly, with the storm inside him.

The vulnerability still frightened him, though. That you could see through him like this. That you knew he wasn’t always strong. That there were parts of him still bleeding, still unsure. He didn’t know what this meant, what you meant—but for the first time, he didn’t want to shut the feeling down. He didn’t want to retreat into his silence.

Because you too felt like a safe place for him amidst the trauma that you and he shared.

You made sense in a way that terrified him.

And as he sat there, your head warm against his shoulder, your breaths slowing, your fingers still close enough to find his again if you wanted to, he realized something he hadn’t dared put into words until now.

He didn’t want to let go of this.

He didn’t want to let go of you.

And it scared him more than anything, how right it all felt.

How much the two of you made sense.

Anddd that’s it! Thank you soso much for reaching the end!! My phone and laptop were lagging like crazy trying to edit this so I tried to make it as readable as possible for everyone😭 I went thru about three revisions but if there’s any wrong grammar im so sorry!! dividers by: @/uzmacchiato

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melrodrigo · 1 year ago

Text

on your knees - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and Cairo really needs a date.

Word Count: idk i’ll fill it later

A/N: Hiii, here to feed my babies. Beware the last few parts because i did nawt proofread this. Will come back to edit it eventually! Thanks for all the love

“Come onnnnn, go on a date with me?” The girl in front of you practically begs, leaning forward till her whole body is pressed up to the front of your desk.

“Very funny.” You tell her, dryly.

Cairo’s been whining all week about not having a valentine’s date, but you don’t know why she specifically chooses to whine to you about it. After all, you had heard from around school she had a crush on Mr.Miller.

Your nose crinkles in disgust at the thought. Their coupling would be wild at best, and illegal (not to mention boring) at worst. It would be like seeing Einstein and an Instagram model holding hands. Except Mr. Miller wasn’t Einstein, he was Henry Miller. A spectacularly boring middle aged white guy.

To be completely transparent, you wouldn’t have minded going on a date with Cairo. Since, truth be told, you might’ve had a (tiny) crush on her.

You let your mind wander, think of what it would be like to take her out. The perfect date.

She loves nature, so it would be outdoors for sure. She doesn’t love extravagant gestures, you’d probably make her a little picnic. Your train of thought is cut short by the evil voice that tells you she could be fantasizing about a certain professor on your imaginary date.

Cairo breaks your daydreaming by falling to her knees beside your chair, hitting the carpet with a loud thud.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly grab her shoulders and try to push her up, but she refuses. For such a small girl, she sure had a lot of strength.

“What do you want me to do, beg? I can beg.” She tells you, still on her knees, dress pooling atop the rug.

You’re ashamed to admit the position has a bit of an effect on you. But who could blame you? Anyone would be flustered if Cairo Sweet was looking up at them like that…

It’s a little awe inspiring, seeing Cairo so, desperate. You’re not sure what’s brought this all on, but the cold cut Cairo you once knew has disappeared completely from the equation.

“Cairo.” You hiss, eyes darting between the door and the girl in front of you, praying that no one comes in.

“What’s it gonna take for you to go on a date with me?” She whines again, reaching for your shirt cuffs for something to hang onto.

There’s a swoosh and a quiet “oh!” that brings your attention back to the door.

Mr. Miller.

He stands somewhat awkwardly, smiling the type of smile that somehow indicates he’s unhappy. His eyes narrow when he notices it’s Cairo on the floor, his beloved teacher’s pet.

Okay, now you really need Cairo to get up. You support (force) her up and onto half of your chair, reprimanding her quietly as Miller walks past, coughing.

She straightens only slightly before settling once again on your lap, claiming it’s more comfortable and “a more suitable place for her to focus on her studies”.

“Why don’t you just sit at your desk, hm?” You point at the table, a single chair, smack dab in the middle of the classroom, in front of Mr.Miller. She was such a nerd.

She stares back at you blankly, big brown eyes making you a little distracted.

“That’s not mine.” She says, and you breathe out a laugh. The tension breaks. Her eyes crinkle lightly at the sound.

“You’re so weird.” You mumble, but allow her to sit further into your lap, no doubt much more comfy than her previous position.

“Can I sit here the rest of the class?” She asks, a little bashfully. You give her a pointed look, but nod nonetheless.

“Whatever you want.” You tell her, and she seems happy with that, taking her laptop and notebook out, ready to learn.

You see her lock eyes with Mr. Miller, who looks very confused. She smiles shyly and breaks the contact by nudging herself into the crook of your neck.

Oh.

Maybe all this was just to make Mr.Miller jealous.

You frown at the disturbing thought. Cairo’s breath tingles your skin as she tilts her head up so her lips are right beside your ear. The sensation makes you shiver, quite unwillingly.

“Now will you go on a date with me?” She whispers, huskily. Her confidence has returned, cocky like the Cairo you know so well.

You weigh your options.

You do really want her to get away from Mr.Miller…it might be a good time to slap some sense into the young girl.

“Alright.” You say curtly, already regretting your decision.

Cairo removes herself from your neck, smiling wide. For a second it quells your anxieties, her milky white pearls blinding.

She turns back as more students start filing in, ready yet again to learn.

You can’t focus for the duration of the class, mind wandering. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, what were you going to say? What were you going to do?

You stay quiet until class ends and all the way while you walk her back to her home. Cairo pokes at you a couple times to try and get you out of your head.

“Don’t forget flowers!” Cairo teasingly yells from ahead of you, already one foot into her house. You straighten up, dumbly answer with a “You got it!” and a face palm once she’s out of sight.

Okay. This was it. Last night was spent toiling on your bed, writing a script of what you’ll tell Cairo, prepared lillies- her favorite flowers, and a batch of the best things you could possibly find in your fridge.

Bread, butter, freshly sliced tomatoes, lettuce, and two slices of turkey left, you’re all ready and set.

The script is tucked away into the back pocket of your jeans, snug and cozy. It radiates warmth that makes you think it’d be terribly rude to ever take it out.

You sit down onto the grass, arms on both sides straightened, palms rubbing uncomfortably with the tablecloth.

“I shouldn’t be this nervous.” You remind yourself, but it does almost nothing to quell your worries.

You can’t keep lying to yourself, the truth swims in your head and you’re afraid it’s going to leave your lips the second Cairo arrives. You aren’t nervous about the letter, or anything to do with Mr.Miller. In fact, you’re nervous about the date.

A tiny part of you, no matter how much you try and shun it away, hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if Cairo liked this date, she might start liking you.

The minutes count themselves down too fast, and it’s almost time. You sit straighter, checking your shirt for any wrinkles.

You see a tiny figure make it’s way onto the lawn, and you have to bite back a smile when you realize it’s Cairo.

She looks almost shy as she walks up to you, twiddling with her thumbs.

It’s like a wave washes over you when you finally see her up close. She’s wearing a gray turtleneck, with a denim jacket over it, hair all nice and wavy. She looks unbelievably good.

It takes a second for you to grab your bearings and act like you weren’t just blatantly staring at her.

“You look beautiful.” You say, as casual as you can muster, and Cairo breaks out into a smile. You notice she’s wearing water liner, and it makes your knees feel like jelly. She’s only ever done makeup like this once, during your school dance, and it had all but made you swoon.

“Yeah?” She muses, mindlessly. Bending down and sitting on your makeshift picnic cloth.

“Yeah.” You breathe, even though you can tell she didn’t really need an answer to that. She reaches for your face, pushing a stray hair back.

“You look good too.” Is what she comments, all soft like.

You’re a little ashamed to admit you dressed up particularly for this occasion. Some rosy pink blush, your favorite lipstick just for her.

You cough awkwardly, and it breaks you both out of your trance. You reach for the food and serve her her plate.

You get a good while into talking and laughing that you bring up Mr. Miller.

“So…do you have your eye on anybody right now?” You ask nonchalantly, pretending like you haven’t mapped this whole conversation out in your head a million times.

Something flashes in her eyes but it disappears so quick you can’t tell what it is.

“You know you can tell me anything,right?” You tell her, and you mean it. Whatever or whoever it was, you’d be fine with it. You wouldn’t just stop being friends with her because of complicated feelings. She mattered more to you than that.

She bites her lip, then speaks quick, like she has to get it out before she overthinks too much.

“Yeah I am interested in someone. In this school, actually.” She says.

You feel your heart drop to your ass, you’d hoped against hope that the rumor wasn’t true- but with this new information, it had to be.

So much for ‘being okay with anything.’ That’s it. It’s over for me.

“Oh?” You try and ask, but it comes out as a little squeak. Cairo shoots you a weird look, but continues telling you about it.

“Yeah…I really like her. I just, I don’t know if I should pursue it.” She purses her lips.

Now it’s really time for your heart to flip. Her? Did she say ‘her?’

“Yeah, I did.” She confirms, small smirk playing on her crimson lips.

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” You ask her, cheeks heating up immediately. She gives you a quick nod.

Oh god.

“You like a girl?” You ask again, disbelieving.

This time she huffs, sounding almost impatient.

“Yes, I like a girl.” She says, exasperated, with a bit of bite in her tone. Something defensive and possibly jealous stirs up in you fast and quick. Why does she look annoyed?

You can’t help but answer in the same way.

“Okay, so who is it that you like so much?” You ask pointedly. The fire in her eyes that was there just moments before simmers, and just like that, she reverts back to her normal self. It’s almost concerning how she does it so quick, like the flip of a switch.

She suddenly looks nervous again. You give her a small encouraging nod, take her hand in yours as support. They tremble slightly.

“I like you. And I know you probably-” She continues but all you can hear are the echos of her first statement.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

I like you.

You retract from her hands, surprised beyond belief. You regret it immediately when her smile drops.

Her mouth is moving rapidly, and you use the best of your abilities to try and hear what she’s saying.

“I mean why do you think I even begged you on this date? I swear your head is so thick-“ Her words pass through your ears in intervals, and finally, after she’s done, and looking at you expectedly, all you can do is croak out a weak, “You don’t have a crush on Mr. Miller?”

Cairo blinks once, twice.

“What?” But there’s no fear or judgement or any hint of any emotion except disbelief.

Huh, so she didn’t know about the rumor.

“Who said I have a crush on Mr.Miller?” She asks, nose scrunching in disgust. You sigh, looking up to the sky and thanking god.

At this revelation, you’re elated. You scooch just a tad closer and tell her about the rumor. When you’re done, you expect someone shocked, or weirded out, but all she does is letout a hefty laugh.

“God, just because I like a class doesn’t mean I want to fuck the teacher.” She smiles, and you marvel in the way she’s able to shake it off so easy. She’s always been like that, carefree.

You let your mind wander to what she said before. She turns her head to look at the scenery, allowing you guys to sit in comfortable silence.

You say her name, a simple sound, but it makes her look up into your eyes, curious.

“Did you really mean what you said? You like me?” You ask, soft.

She gives an adamant nod, assuring she really does. God, you could not focus right now. She looks so pretty.

“I like you too. Like, a lot.” You breathe, and watch as her eyes sparkle.

“Really?” She blinks, in a state of vulnerability you’ve never seen. You can’t believe that she wouldn’t believe it. You give her the same nod, grin breaking out on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your lips.

It’s all you’ve ever wanted- you can’t even speak.

Her kiss isn’t what you’ve always imagined. Something soft, something gentle. That’s how it always was with the first kiss. You should’ve guessed long ago Cairo wasn’t just anyone.

She surges in, grabbing your face tight like if she lets go you’ll disintegrate. She’s so rough, and you can’t get enough of it. She climbs over your body and settles in your lap, grabbing the collar of your shirt to deepen the kiss.

You break away when it gets too much, both of you panting. Her cheeks are now another shade of pink you can be proud of causing; her hair messed up in a way that makes you want to grab her and kiss her again. And so you do.

You guys stay like that, laughing and talking and kissing till it’s dark out.

“It’s a good thing I forced you on this date, isn’t it?” She muses, rolling in your arms.

You giggle, high from the endorphins.

“You didn’t force me, it was a two person thing.” You try and justify, hoping she doesn’t think you didn’t want the date.

“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we both know you would’ve never asked me out.” She tells you, booping her nose against yours.

“Oh shut up.” And you take her lips in another kiss before she can retort.

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader

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kodestreetechnologies · 3 months ago

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Top 10 Training Centers in Bangalore for Skill Development

Training Centers in Bangalore

Bangalore, often called the Silicon Valley of India, is not just a hub for IT giants but also a growing epicenter for skill development and professional training. With the increasing demand for tech-savvy, creatively skilled, and industry-ready professionals, the city has witnessed a massive surge in training institutes offering courses across various domains.

From software development and data science to creative arts, Bangalore caters to individuals seeking to upgrade their skills or transition into new careers. The rise of software courses, coding courses, and DevOps certifications has made Bangalore a go-to destination for students, job seekers, and working professionals alike.

As we step into 2025, the importance of structured learning through certified training centers has become paramount, especially in a competitive job market. Let’s dive into how to pick the right training institute and explore the top 10 training centers in Bangalore helping learners stay ahead of the curve.

Key Factors to Consider When Choosing a Training Center

Before enrolling in any skill development course, it’s essential to evaluate a training center based on a few critical aspects:

1. Course Relevance and Curriculum

Ensure the course content aligns with current industry requirements. Whether it's an Azure DevOps Course, Data Science Certificate, or a Linux System Administration Course, the curriculum should be updated regularly.

2. Experienced Trainers

Look for institutes with certified and experienced trainers who have practical, hands-on knowledge in their respective fields.

3. Placement Support

Centers offering placement assistance or internship opportunities post-training can significantly improve job prospects.

4. Flexible Learning Formats

Choose a center that offers Classroom Training, online learning, or a blended model, depending on your preferences.

5. Reputation and Reviews

Check Google ratings, student testimonials, and alumni success stories to gauge the reputation of the center.

6. Certifications Offered

Opt for courses that provide industry-recognized certificates such as Azure DevOps Certification, Data Science Certificate Programs, or AWS DevOps Certification.

Top Training Centers for IT and Software Development

1. JSpiders – Rajajinagar

Known for its Java and software testing courses, JSpiders is a top-rated institute for freshers looking to enter the IT sector. The institute offers structured training, mock interviews, and placement drives.

Popular Courses: Java, Selenium Testing, Manual Testing Key Highlights: 100% placement support for entry-level IT jobs.

2. Besant Technologies – Marathahalli

A leading name for software courses and IT certifications, Besant Technologies offers a wide array of in-demand programs.

Popular Courses: Python, AWS, DevOps Course in Bangalore, Full Stack Development Key Highlights: Real-time project experience and online/offline classes.

3. KodNest – BTM Layout

KodNest focuses on turning fresh graduates into industry-ready developers. Their training includes aptitude, programming, and personality development.

Popular Courses: Core Java, Web Development, Python Key Highlights: Job-oriented training for beginners with placement assistance.

4. Upskill Technologies – HSR Layout

This center is popular among working professionals looking to upskill or switch domains. Their courses are designed to meet current industry standards.

Popular Courses: Azure DevOps Training Online, Python for Data Science, Automation Testing Key Highlights: Expert trainers, practical labs, and certification prep.

5. Kodestree – Kundalahalli Gate

Kodestree stands out for its Best IT Courses, focusing on both beginners and advanced learners. From Data Science Courses in Bangalore to Azure Cloud DevOps, Kodestree covers a wide spectrum of trending technologies.

Popular Courses:

Data Science Course in Bangalore with Placement

Azure DevOps Advanced Online Course

Software Development Courses

Linux System Administration Course

Key Highlights:

Offline classes in Bangalore

Expert trainers with industry experience

Focus on career-building certifications

Excellent student support and practical learning

We’ll elaborate more about Kodestree at the end of this blog.

Specialized Skill Development Centers for Creative Arts

While IT and software dominate Bangalore’s training scene, creative industries are also booming with high-quality institutes catering to design, animation, and digital media.

6. Arena Animation – Jayanagar

This center has been instrumental in shaping creative minds through professional training in animation and design.

Popular Courses: Graphic Design, 3D Animation, Visual Effects Key Highlights: Job-ready portfolio development and industry networking.

7. ZICA (Zee Institute of Creative Art) – Indiranagar

Known for its immersive programs, ZICA combines creativity with technology, preparing students for media and entertainment careers.

Popular Courses: 2D/3D Animation, Game Design, Film Making Key Highlights: Studio-based training and career guidance.

8. MAAC – Koramangala

MAAC has a strong presence in creative training with its specialized curriculum for animation and multimedia.

Popular Courses: Multimedia, VFX, Broadcast Design Key Highlights: High-end infrastructure and experienced mentors.

Emerging Trends in Skill Training and Development

1. AI-Driven Learning

Training centers are now integrating AI tools and chatbots to create personalized learning journeys, enhancing student engagement and performance tracking.

2. Remote and Hybrid Learning

Post-pandemic, many institutions now offer online software courses, allowing learners to study from anywhere while still accessing live sessions, recordings, and peer collaboration.

3. Project-Based Learning

Courses now emphasize hands-on projects, simulating real-world challenges. This is especially prominent in data science programs, DevOps courses, and software development courses.

4. Micro-Credentials and Short-Term Certifications

Short courses with immediate certifications, like Azure DevOps Certification or Data Analyst Course in Bangalore, are helping professionals gain quick, tangible skills without long-term commitment.

5. Integration of Soft Skills Training

Employers today value communication and problem-solving abilities alongside technical know-how. Institutes now bundle soft skills and interview preparation within technical courses.

Conclusion: Invest in the Right Skills with Kodestree

Bangalore is a city of endless opportunities — but to make the most of it, choosing the right training center is crucial. Whether you’re a fresher stepping into the tech world, a working professional looking to upgrade, or a creative aspirant chasing your passion, there's a place for you.

Among the many options, Kodestree has emerged as one of the most reliable names for IT training and software courses. With its top-tier Data Science Classes in Bangalore, Azure DevOps Training Online, and Best Coding Courses, Kodestree blends expert mentorship with real-time practice and job-oriented learning.

Ready to level up your skills? Explore industry-leading courses at Kodestree — your trusted partner for skill development in Bangalore. 👉 Visit Kodestree or call +91-7015941166 to talk to a counselor today!

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cemeteryspider · 11 months ago

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The Two of Cups

Remy Lebeau x Mutant! Reader

Summary: Your ability was an innate connection with the world around you which lead you to the Xavier Mansion. As well as a certain Louisiana man.

Word Count: 2.6k

You were an oddball in the mutant community and an outcast of society. Largely you found peace in knowing this due to your connection to the spiritual relam. You found solace in the trees and wind and comfort in the changing seasons. In the lush grass and flower petals that dried your tears when no person was around for you.

Your mind often drifts, allowing you to find new places, unseen by human (or mutant) eyes in thousands of years. Some caves drew you in and allowed you to commune with wandering spirits, other times on high mountains the water would guide you through and out of danger.

It was a mutual trust, that you would respect the natural or physical world and the spirit world would guide you. Sometimes this leads to crystal shops with experts in divination or sad girls who would have their cards read by you and give their lives new meaning and a more hopeful disposition.

So you followed the whispers of the wind and the pull towards new adventures until you came across a quite large estate called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. You were no longer a "youngster" but still you padded on allowing the soft grass to show you the way to your next venture as you had done so many times before.

A man in an advanced looking wheelchair greeted you at the door, "Ah you are the one I saw in Cerebro. Definitely not what I was expecting."

He looked you up and down from the long thick skirts that gently brushed the ground to your hair you kept up and out of your face. His stare wasn't like any you felt before.

It wasn't the stare your friends gave when you first started reading the cards and could practically see through the girls you read. It wasn't the scared stare your parents gave you when they found you levitating in the air with the cards circling you in a protective manner. It certainly wasn't the stare of the people who yelled at you calling you a witch when walking the otherwise quiet streets of a small town. No, it was a state of awe and understanding.

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Xavier, my name is Y/n and it seems as though something pulled me to this place. Something strong," You looked around and saw children running around in the yard and teenagers practicing fledgling powers under the canopy of trees.

"No, the pleasure is all mine. There have been mutterings of someone with a spiritual connection roaming New York for the past few weeks, and when I saw you on Cerebro I knew I simply had to meet you."

The side of your mouth quirked up and you reached out your hand, which he gladly accepted, "Show me."

He guided you through the main building showing off classrooms filled with students learning math and history. Rooms dedicated to combat and self-defense. There were bedrooms, some colorful, some minimalist, and some dark and gloomy. Each place radiated a different emotion, the classrooms were focused with hints of boredom. The training rooms had an air of confidence and a slight fear of failure. Bedrooms had remnants of comfort and happiness, sadness, rest, wakefulness, love, and pity. Rarely were places so difficult to pin down.

He spoke about the architecture and the school's mission. You listened thoughtfully. Running your fingers along hundred year old wood paneling, and studying repairs made to walls carefully done to match. The kitchen had a rustic charm to it despite the overwhelmingly grandiose spectacle that was the rest of the estate.

Lastly you were on an elevator toward the lower floors of the mansion which were the newest additions to the property if the shift of decor told you the right story. There were endless halls of silver and doors with identity verification and a big doorway at the end with an X over it.

For a moment it overwhelmed you, never once in your travels were you taken to a place so modern, maybe even futuristic. The old towns with stories of witchcraft embedded into their history or rustic cabins next to trees that were hundreds of years old. Even to cliff faces that had been carved into by ancient peoples whose art can only be vaguely understood.

Except now you were in a different atmosphere, but with what you assumed to be the same goal, to help these people find themselves and provide guidance.

~~~

You entered a room whose ceiling was opened showing the sky and a winged jet landing in the room you were standing in. People descended the short flight of stairs to the floor and looked at Xavier and then to you.

"Is everything alright, professor?" A guy with what seemed to be a red visor covering his eyes. Despite his eyes being covered you could feel the concern radiating off of him. You almost scoffed at the thought that you would harm or threaten the man sitting next to you, but then you remembered how weary you were when you first started traveling the country and eventually the world.

After all, you were kicked out of the house with just what you could carry in your backpack. Even before that being cast aside by classmates who didn't understand you.

"Everything is perfectly fine, Scott. My X-Men I would like to introduce you to Y/n, the mutant I've been telling you about," He smiled and gestured toward you. It seemed as though that flipped a switch in the people before you.

They started to approach you starting with Scott, "I'm Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, leader of the X-Men," He left you with a firm handshake.

Then a red-head, "I'm Jean Grey, a telepath and telekinetic, part of the X-Men. I've felt your presence in the psychic plane long before we met. It's a pleasure to finally connect with you face-to-face," She gave you a gentle hug and indeed it felt as though you've known each other for a long time.

You met others as well like Ororo, Rogue, and Jubilee but one person in particular seemed to catch your eye, "Bonjour, ma chérie! The name's Gambit, but you can call me Remy if you like."

He extended his hand to you but instead of the handshake the men before had offered he flipped your hand over and kissed your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up, and he walked away with a wink.

"Why does the Cajun get all the pretty ladies that come in?" a figure with grayish-white skin, white eyes, and indistinct features grumbled beside a short man with prominent sideburns.

"Finally, my time to introduce myself. I'm Morph, probably second or maybe third in the mansion's prettiest man competition," he laughed, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "See you around, Tarot."

Then the man with sideburns grumbled something nearly incomprehensible but you could catch the word Logan in the midst of the mumbles.

"Those were the X-Men, my own vision and step toward human and mutant coexistence. I hope that you will stay and perhaps guide the wandering souls that reside here."

For a moment you felt a reluctance, the hope for an adventurer's life still called, wandering the Earth helping as many people as you could handle. Spending as much time as possible in the woods and a life outside the public eye. Then you remembered the pull and how it has never lead you to a place you didn't enjoy or to people you didn't befriend.

So you stayed.

A month after that fateful day you had become an integral member of the Xavier Institute. Caring for hurt children by bandaging their wounds, acting as sort of a counselor for the teenagers who feel abandoned or children who are having a hard time transitioning, and most importantly restoring spiritual balance to the mansion.

Though not quite as spiritual, the Professor, as you had taken to calling him, allowed you to place spiritual protection around the house. Selenite in window sills to cleanse the area and promote positivity. Placed black tourmaline near the doors of the house to absorb negative energies that may come through. Amethyst near the bedrooms for calming energies.

You often could be seen walking around the house with a burning sage bundle in your hand waving it around doorways and windows and sometimes circling the crystals with it. To some of the X-Men it was odd to them, but then they saw the effects on the students.

Some of them were able to look at one of the crystals in any of the rooms in the house and take a deep breath grounding themselves, and then take another stab at what they were working on. Whether that be a math equation, a vocab word, or a new skill with their abilities. Sometimes they even went to you for advice and even asked you to read their cards, which you did every once in a while.

If someone were to peek into the office, that Charles Xavier graciously granted you when you brought it up one day, they would usually see the three card spread. Past, Present, and Future. You gave comfort to the children worried about their lives and if they'll survive their adolescence. Maybe the clarity spreads for teenagers who have a specific situation they want insight on, whether it be a lover, a friendship, or even their mutant abilities.

One day when you were shuffling your deck you heard a sharp knock on the door, "Come in."

None other than Remy Lebeau walked through the door. He looked a tad nervous around at your dimly lit office filled with candles and burning incense.

You had been getting to know him more recently. One on one sparring with him while the rest of the team had paired up. Or sat next to each other at briefings and meals. Sometimes he even sat in your office grabbing bandages or holding hands as you disinfected wounds.

"Hey, Cher... Gambit was wonderin'... maybe you could read my cards,'' He was sharply eyeing a specific crystal with uneasiness. You were aware that he didn't mess with the supernatural.

Your brows furrow and you sit up straighter, "There's no magic here Remy, just a connection to the spiritual, its connection to me, and my connection to the cards."

His eyes soften and he quickly sits in the comfy chair on the other side of your table, "Okay Cher, I trust you."

He came from New Orleans, a deeply spiritual place with strong links to history, slavery, and powerful spiritual figures. You had observed the thin veil between the physical and spiritual during a couple of your many adventures, but you never felt the need to stay. You knew exactly when your time in New Orleans was done as soon as it was, then usually by the next day you were off again.

"Okay, hon," You started shuffling the cards between your hands and between your fingers as you speak, "What are you looking to ask the spirits?"

"Well, I was wonderin', well there's this girl I really like, and I was wondering what I should do about it?" He was idly picking at his fingers, staring at the cards in your hands, or at the walls, really anywhere but your eyes.

You toyed with some ideas in your head for a moment before choosing a spread of your own creation, "This will be a three card spread, the first card is how you really feel about her, no rose tinted glasses no nothing, the second card is how she feels about you, and the third is whether you should act on this or not."

"Okay, petite, let's do this," You fan the cards out and allow him to choose the cards he is most drawn to. You saw him crack his knuckles and reach for the cards. As he touched them you felt a pull towards him, and once the last card was set on the table you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

You gesture him to flip the first card over, and the face of the card is revealed. Four tall pillars holding up greenery with two people and a castle in the background.

You smile at the card, "The Four of Wands."

Remy looked up at you patiently and waited for your words, "This woman is your idealistic love. The universe has gifted you with your perfect match."

A smile started to play on his lips and you nodded your head toward the second card on the table. A naked blonde woman collecting water under a sky brightly filled with stars.

"This is The Star. This is a romantic and spiritual connection, there is a force known or unknown drawing her to you and most likely vice versa," You glance over at Remy's growing smile, "Is this going as you had planned?"

He looked up at you with wide eyes, and shook it off quickly, "Chere, I'm... I'm not sure."

You place your hand on his, "Will you flip the last card, Chere?"

You placed your hand over the familiar card and gently flipped it over. The people facing each other holding chalices.

"This is The Two of Cups, a deep mutual understanding usually of a romantic nature. Looking at this spread I see two people being drawn together both by proximity and spiritual connection. The you should tell her how you feel as the cards seem to point to a potential romantic relationship forming," You look up at him waiting for him to say something.

"Well, Chere, I thought you would talk me out of doing this, but it seems that the stars have aligned," He took a deep breath before looking deeply into your eyes, "Ever since I first saw you, I've felt drawn to you. Moth to a flame and all that, but I wasn't sure about how to approach the topic. I guess I'll just go for it, would you like to go out with Gambit sometime."

You could see him nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and his eyes darting across your face. All you could do was smile, "Yes, Remy I would love to go out with you."

An all out smile formed on his face from ear to ear, the crows feet at the edges of his eyes crinkled. It wasn't long before you were sitting in the kitchen late at night and enjoying Louisiana cuisine made by the Cajun himself.

Then it was a walk around the garden at dawn or training together that inevitably lead to making out against the walls of the Danger Room and quickly rezipping suits and pulling on garments seconds before the next set of people were scheduled to come in.

It had been a few months after you had made the relationship official and you were moving your collection of crystals, books, and other spiritual items into Remy's room with his help of course when you had realized you hadn't felt the pull to leave. You had finally found a place to call home, where you truly belonged and the spiritual world was letting you rest. After years of wondering and meeting and leaving you had found a place to stay.

The very next hour you had approached Charles Xavier and agreed to stay. You had been discussing teaching art and self-control classes with him for a little while, but now you were committed to staying as long as he would have you.

That came with a permanent place among the X-Men team which you happily accepted.

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mariespen · 4 months ago

Text

➸ Career Day - Pt. 2

Sheriff!Rafe x Teacher!Reader

➸ Masterlist!

Requests open!

The ride in Rafe’s cruiser was intimidatingly quiet as his arm rested casually out of the window, country music humming softly from the radio. He had rounded up three of his men from the station, heavily implying that they should abide by his request for a favor. And what did he ask? A small task, really.

You, his perfect wife, had been working late nights to convince parents to attend the class’s career day—practically begging grown adults to contribute to their children’s education for just ten minutes. So, Rafe’s solution? Introduce your kids to himself, the sheriff, along with men from different positions at his station.

"The more variety of positions, the better," you’d told him just a few hours earlier, pressing a kiss to his lips before hurrying off to take the kids to school.

Luckily, your efforts had paid off, and by the end of the week, you had somehow convinced 20 parents to sign up for different time slots. The pride you felt when you secured the 20th RSVP was unmatched, though you had always kept the very first slot open for Rafe and his men. Your class was always giddy with excitement and nerves when real-life police officers visited.

A faint wail of sirens outside your classroom made your students freeze, eyes widening as they rushed to the windows. You let them have their moment, biting back a grin as they whispered in awe, tracking the movements of Rafe and his officers.

Your daughter, Samantha, was among them. She talked about her dad like she owned the entire police force, claiming she had every officer in town wrapped around her little finger.

Suppressing a chuckle, you clapped your hands together, your own excitement mirroring that of your students. "Alright, friends! Let’s sit down nicely and wait for our sheriff to meet us!"

The door opened, and in stepped Rafe, his thumbs tucked casually into his belt, exuding easy confidence. The other officers followed suit, making their way to the front of the class. Rafe caught your eye, his lips quirking up ever so slightly in a secret smile. You returned it with ease.

"Alright, guys! Sit quietly as these men introduce themselves!" You stepped aside, moving toward your desk but unable to take your eyes off Rafe’s uniformed stance.

"Hey kids, I’m your county sheriff, Rafe Cameron. These are some men from your police station. Here’s Detective Smith, and then we got Officer Colley and Officer Whitman—some of my best men." Rafe spoke with practiced authority, but there was a certain warmth in his tone, one meant for the wide-eyed first graders in front of him.

"We’re here to protect you and your families, yeah? It’s our job to help y’all and make sure each and every one of you is safe."

The other officers followed with their own introductions, summarizing their roles in ways the kids could understand. After about ten minutes, you stood up once again, practically glowing with pride as you addressed the class.

"Okay, friends! If you have any questions for our police officers, detective, or Sheriff Cameron, now’s the time!"

Almost every hand shot up.

"Yeah, Sammie?" Rafe asked, pointing to his daughter, whose brown curls bounced as she all but vibrated with excitement.

"That’s my daddy!" she announced proudly, looking at Rafe like he hung the stars in the sky.

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips. "Mhm, sweetie, did you have a question?"

Samantha’s face scrunched in thought before she quickly covered with, "Um… did you catch any bad guys today?"

"Not yet, it’s a bit early for an arrest," Officer Colley answered with a small chuckle.

"That’s right," Rafe nodded before shifting his attention. "You? What’s your name, son?"

"I’m Noah, sir," the boy at the front said hesitantly, then bit his lip before continuing. "How long does it take to become a police officer?"

"Just about nine months of training and a lot of hours of experience," Officer Whitman responded, nodding toward the boy.

"Even longer to become sheriff," Rafe added with a teasing glance toward his men.

Another hand shot up, belonging to a girl in the center row who looked particularly determined. "I want to be a detective. Do they make a lot of money?"

Detective Smith let out a hearty laugh before responding, "It’s not a bad life."

The questions continued until time ran out, and after a final round of thank-yous and goodbyes, the officers prepared to leave. Before heading out, Rafe crouched beside Samantha’s desk, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head and murmuring a quiet reminder to behave.

"Goodbye, kids! Be nice to Mrs. Cameron, or she’ll call me! I won’t be so nice then, m’kay?" Rafe teased, throwing a playful wink at your students as he waved.

Once the door shut behind them, you wasted no time slipping into Rafe’s arms, wrapping him in a hug before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, baby," you murmured, your voice full of gratitude.

He let out a soft chuckle, his arm securing itself around your waist. "Always. See you at the house tonight?"

"Mhm! Love you!" you called after him as he backed away reluctantly.

"Love you too!" Rafe shot over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

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mya-valentine · 4 months ago

Note

Hey! Could I request headcanons for Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya and Kaminari with a reader that is secretly good at singing but is kinda quiet about it. They usually just hum along to songs, the only time they sing is when their alone or if their with their friends so they can all harmonize together (they go into full on performance mode when that happens). Their secret does eventually gets out however. Thank you in advance!

Headcanon: S/O is Secretly Good at Singing

Katsuki Bakugou

At first, Bakugou doesn’t notice because you're always so quiet about it. But he starts catching you humming under your breath during training or while doing homework, and it piques his interest.

One day, he accidentally overhears you singing in an empty classroom when you think no one’s around. He’s completely stunned but pretends he wasn’t listening to avoid embarrassing you.

When your secret eventually gets out, Bakugou acts all nonchalant like, “Tch, I already knew.” But deep down, he’s proud and lowkey loves bragging about how talented you are.

If anyone tries to make fun of you or tease you about it, he’s ready to blow them up. No one disrespects his singer.

He’s secretly obsessed with hearing you sing, so he’ll play your favorite songs around you just to trick you into humming or singing along.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima’s super supportive and encouraging when he finds out. “Bro! That’s so manly! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He’s the type to hype you up and literally beg you to sing more often. “C’mon, do it for me! Please? Just one song!”

When you perform with your friends, he’s front row, recording everything and screaming louder than anyone.

If you’re shy or embarrassed, he’s got your back. He’ll remind you how amazing you are and how much everyone loves your voice.

He loves the idea of doing little duets with you, even though his singing is... passionate but not exactly in tune. But hey, he tries.

Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya is absolutely in awe when he discovers your talent. He’s the type to get super emotional and ramble about how incredible you are.

“You’ve been hiding this this whole time?! That’s amazing! You’re amazing!”

He’s genuinely curious about your musical journey and asks about your favorite artists, genres, and what inspired you to sing.

When your secret gets out, he’s both nervous and excited for you. He’ll always be there to support you and cheer you on, whether you’re performing or just vibing with friends.

He starts suggesting songs for you to try and would probably make playlists that match your vibe.

Denki Kaminari

Kaminari’s reaction is the most chaotic. He literally short-circuits when he hears you sing for the first time. “HOLY CRAP, DUDE. WHY HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM US?!”

He immediately tries to get you to join his band or start a music channel with him. He’s all about those collabs.

When your secret gets out, he makes sure everyone knows how cool and talented you are. He’s like your personal hype man.

Kaminari loves harmonizing with you and turning casual jam sessions into full-blown concerts.

He 100% tries to convince you to sing karaoke with him at every party.

Masterlist

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rootedinrevisions · 10 months ago

Text

Such a Tease

SUMMARY: Jake is stuck at base for a mind-numbing training session, while you’re home enjoying a much-needed day off. Bored and missing him, you decide to have a little fun by slipping into his favorite lacy lingerie and sending him a few teasing photos. What starts as playful fun turns into a tantalizing game of anticipation as Jake struggles to focus on anything other than getting home to you—and making you pay for being such a tease.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm a little late getting this one posted. Work and life got the best of me today! But here is Day 1 of the Kinktober prompts!

PROMPT: "Damn, you're such a tease."

KINK: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WARNINGS: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WORD COUNT: 562

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It was one of those rare days off, the kind where you could lounge around the apartment, free from any obligations or stress. You had the place to yourself, and although it was peaceful, something was missing: Jake.

Jake was stuck at base, caught up in yet another training session. You could practically hear his groans when he left this morning, muttering about how he could fly his aircraft blindfolded and still ace this review. You’d been texting back and forth with him all morning, and from the sound of it, he was bored out of his mind.

You’d been missing him too—his presence, his touch, the playful banter you shared. And then an idea popped into your head. You glanced toward your dresser, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you remembered Jake's favorite lacy lingerie set tucked inside.

A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grinning, you slipped into the soft, delicate fabric, adjusting the lace until it fit perfectly against your skin. The deep, sultry red contrasted beautifully with your complexion, and you couldn’t help but admire the way it hugged your curves. You knew this set drove Jake crazy—he’d told you so more than once.

You grabbed your phone and posed in front of the mirror, snapping a few playful shots. One with you standing straight, one where you tugged the hem of the lace teasingly, and one of you sitting on the edge of the bed, just enough skin showing to keep it innocent… yet tempting.

With a smirk, you sent the first picture to Jake, captioning it with a simple, “Miss you.”

You barely had to wait a minute before your phone buzzed. Jake’s name lit up the screen, and you opened the message to see his reply: “Damn, you’re such a tease.”

You giggled, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was good to know you could get to him, even when he was stuck in a stuffy classroom. But you weren’t done yet.

Biting your lip, you snapped another picture—this time lying on the bed, your body half-covered by the sheets. The lacy set peeked out just enough to leave plenty to the imagination, but still give Jake something to think about.

“Thought you could use a distraction. How’s that training going?” you typed, hitting send.

His response came back almost instantly: “Training? What training? All I’m thinking about now is how fast I can get home.”

You could practically picture him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on anything but the images you’d sent.

Feeling playful, you teased him again. “Aw, don’t you still have a few hours left? Guess you’ll just have to be patient.”

Another message buzzed in: “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Wait ‘til I get home. We’ll see who’s teasing who.”

You felt a warm shiver run down your spine at his words, knowing full well what was waiting for you once Jake finally got back. But for now, you enjoyed the thought of him struggling through his training session, knowing you had him wrapped around your finger.

Leaning back against the pillows, you smiled to yourself, imagining how this little game would play out once Jake was home. His frustration would build throughout the day, and by the time he walked through that door, he’d be ready to turn the tables on you in the best possible way.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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crownofgildedlilies · 7 months ago

Text

mistletoe

pairing: hanta x reader summary: Hanta has an incredible amount of mistletoe, for some reason. wc: 1.9k event masterlist

There was something going on in the dorms, and you were pretty sure you knew who was to blame.

Mistletoe littered the doorways of the common areas, but only when you were in the area. You never saw anyone placing them, or actually using the mistletoe for its intended purpose, but you knew everyone was getting suspicious. Fingers were going to start pointing, and all at the same target.

Because each sprig of mistletoe was stuck to the door frame with a very familiar piece of tape.

You weren’t stupid. You knew that the only person who could have been hanging up all the mistletoe could have been Hanta, but you hadn’t recognized the pattern until Mina had pointed it out to you.

“You know, this only keeps happening when you’re around,” She had teased, eyeing the bundle of leaves and berries taped conspicuously above the doorframe you had been only seconds away from crossing under. Narrowing your eyes at her, you questioned her intention without using your words.

“C’mon, we’re going to be late for class!” Kirishima’s shout had broken your stare from your silent conversation with Mina. Not willing to confront the accusation she had thrown your way, you hurried through the doorframe so as not to be late for class.

You tried your very hardest not to look at Hanta standing oh so innocently on the opposite side of the doorway, unless he saw the flush that crept up your neck.

That had only been the third time mistletoe had mysteriously appeared. Currently, you were staring up at the eleventh sprig of holiday greenery, taped above the archway that led from the kitchens to the common area.

Part of you wanted to step underneath it, to see just what Hanta would do if you finally fell for the horribly planned coincidences he had laid out throughout the dorm building. He had tried setting it up once in the classroom, which led to a lecture from Aizawa about romantic endeavors distracting from the goal of attending UA.

“Aw, man, more mistletoe?” Kirishima’s voice echoed loudly through the slowly filling common areas. Your attention snapped towards him and away from the mistletoe, watching as he, Kaminari, and Bakugou returned after getting in extra quirk training. Hanta was lingering in the kitchen, casually darting his attention towards you repeatedly as you debated whether or not to cross underneath the hastily taped up sprig of green leaves, and half a dozen of your other classmates lounged on the couch within earshot.

“It was up when I got downstairs,” You answered, snickering as Mina and Ochaco poked their heads up over the back of the couch to listen in to your conversation. The two of them, along with Hagakure, had been the most interested in figuring out just why so much mistletoe littered the dorms.

“Give it up.” Bakugou pinned his glare on Hanta, who suddenly found the ceiling entirely interesting. Except, all eyes in the room darted towards Hanta, watching him carefully. No one, at least when you had been around, had actually called out Hanta for placing the mistletoe, though it was a bit of an open secret.

“Of course you’re against holiday spirit, Scrooge,” You playfully rolled your eyes at Bakugou, finding yourself defending Hanta without really even meaning to. You liked seeing the mistletoe, even if you hadn’t let yourself get stuck under it with anyone, just yet.

“Tch. ‘M not a Scrooge.” Bakugou defended, which led to a round of arguments from nearly everyone in the room. Hanta, usually one to call Bakugou out, remained suspiciously silent. Turning towards him with a frown, you saw the distracted look on his face and stepped towards him with the intention of asking what was wrong.

“Wait!” Mina and Ochaco’s shouts tore through the room, freezing you in place as you whipped around to stare at them perched over the couch. Except, they were grinning so wide it made you nervous—especially because they were staring at you.

“What’s wrong?” Kaminari asked from beside you. Ochaco let out a giggle, Kirishima muttering a quiet oh shit, and you turned to face Kaminari with wide eyes.

He was standing beside you. Underneath the mistletoe.

You hadn’t even noticed him cross the room until he was beside you, and in your rush to comfort Hanta after Bakugou’s teasing you both stepped underneath the mistletoe.

On instinct, in response to Bakugou’s loud laughter echoing throughout the space and Mina’s claim that you just had to kiss, you shoved Kaminari away like he repelled you.

“Hey!” He whined, clutching his chest like your push had done actual damage. “It wouldn’t be that bad to kiss me!”

“It’s just mistletoe,” Hanta spoke up for the first time since everyone had arrived. He’d remained silent even through Bakugou’s teasing, but now that you were faced with the possibility that you might kiss Kaminari, one of his best friends, he suddenly had a lot to say. “You don’t have to do it.”

“You were just complaining about me being a Scrooge,” Bakugou countered Hanta’s reasoning, a teasing smirk on his face. Clearly he was enjoying this a little too much. Rolling your eyes, you glanced back up to the mistletoe before landing your attention back down on Hanta.

“Bakugou, man,” Kirishima shot his friend a look, and you suddenly knew that all the boys were already aware of Hanta’s attempts to get you underneath the mistletoe. Kirishima was trying to get Bakugou to lay off, but the blond was nothing if not a grade A shit stirrer.

“Holiday spirit,” Mina repeated, a smirk on her own face. You narrowed your eyes at her, silently willing her to not encourage whatever Bakugou was trying to accomplish. “I say you do it.”

And suddenly there was a chant of Kiss! Kiss! echoing through the common floor, started by and maintained mostly by the girls of your class. You couldn’t see her, but you heard Hagakure joining in from somewhere.

Your face was flushing, you couldn’t look at Hanta, and all you wanted was the chanting stop. So, with quick steps, you closed the distance between you and Kaminari and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment, a split second of affection that could only be seen as something between friends.

But when you finally found the courage to risk a glance to Hanta, he had already disappeared.

Okay. Maybe you had taken it a step too far.

It had been a few hours since your little stunt with Kaminari, and you hadn’t seen Hanta once in all that time. You had sucked up your pride and asked Kirishima where he’d gone off too, and discovered with a pang of guilt that he had apparently locked himself in his room.

You’d been having fun messing with Hanta about his ridiculous attempts to kiss you with mistletoe, even though all he needed to do was ask, but all of a sudden you realized that maybe you shouldn’t have gone so long without letting him know his feelings were reciprocated.

You needed to set things straight before Hanta got the wrong idea.

Finding the mistletoe hadn’t been a problem. You’d been collecting them each time Hanta had taped them up somewhere in the dorms, dropping them in a box in your room for a reason you couldn’t piece together. Though, you were thankful for your packrat tendencies as you grabbed a collection of the leaves and berries.

Knocking on Hanta’s door, you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation, listening for sounds on the other side. Part of you assumed that he would just ignore the knocking and go back to moping about in his room, or so Kirishima had said he was doing.

To your luck, you heard movement on the opposite side of the door, and in seconds it was opened. Hanta leaned against the frame separating the hallway from his dorm, bracing his body up with one arm. The position forced him to lean closer, almost hovering over you with his tall frame.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, breaking the silence first and snapping your mind from spiraling as you thought about just how attractive he looked. Arms tucked behind your back, you scrambled to cling to the remains of your bravery that seemed to all shrivel up after boldly carrying you towards his door.

“I, uh,” You stammered, forcing yourself to not glance away from him. He looked exactly like Kirishima had said. Like he’d been moping. “I don’t have any tape.”

His face twisted in confusion, and you bit the inside of your cheek in reprimand for stumbling over your words.

“You came here because you needed tape?”

Oh, you were crashing.

“No!” You hurried to correct your mistake, face warming with a blush you had no hope of fighting against. “I just, well, you always taped it up, but I don’t… Screw it.”

Before you turned and ran with your tail tucked between your legs, you held out the sprig of mistletoe you’d brought as an apology.

Now, it was you and Hanta under the mistletoe.

“You don’t have to do this,” He repeated his earlier words, though instead of trying to encourage you, he sounded like he felt you were pitying him.

“I know.” You assured him, meeting his eye and smiling softly. “I want to.”

“You… want to?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled, tilting your head to the side with a teasing grin. “I’ve known since the third attempt that you were trying to catch me under the mistletoe. And I thought it was cute.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His words came out as more of a groan, turning his face to the side in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassed flush.

“I don’t know. Guess I was worried I was reading too much into things? But then you were so upset after I kissed Kaminari on the cheek that I figured that I should tell you how I felt. The mistletoe was a really sweet idea, especially with the holidays coming up.” As you explained, he turned back so that he was looking at you. And you hoped that he could hear the sincerity in your voice, too. “So, are you going to kiss me anytime soon? Because I don’t have tape and my arm is getting tired.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Both of his warm palms settled on your waist, tugging you flush against him. The arm that was holding the mistletoe fell to wrap around his shoulders, while your opposite hand found home flat against his chest. And suddenly, his lips were on yours, a kiss so long in the making you worried that you weren’t going to live up to expectations.

Except, all your worries disappeared the moment he kissed you. You hated sounding cliche, but it felt like he was made for you. He met your every action, pulling you close and pushing against you all the same.

He left you breathless when he finally pulled back, grinning down at you. You were glad he was finally back to normal, evidently satisfied that you had given him a kiss. With how wide he was smiling, how close he was holding you, you doubted he even remembered what happened with Kaminari.

“I really wasn’t being subtle, was I?” Hanta asked, still beaming, and you couldn’t help but match his expression.

“I’m surprised it took Bakugou that long to call you out,” Grinning, you slid the hand that was on his chest upwards so that both arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” “Not as smoothly as just asking me out would have gone.”

#hanta sero x you #sero hanta x you #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #sero hanta #mha sero #mha #mha x you #mha x reader #my hero academia x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia

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inej-ruination-ghafa · 6 months ago

Text

glitch - f.w

high infidelity | would've could've | masterlist

Warnings: none

Summary: the one where Fred realises how bad he had screwed up as soon as he does it

Wordcount: 2.1k

The world froze. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost like it was trying to burst out and jump into his hands but some voice on your shoulder was telling you that it was a bad idea. The worst.

It should've been a brief interaction, a slight malfunction, but you broke at the sight.

You watched as Angelina started talking to George but your eyes were fixed on his twin brother who was shadowed in the darkness but you could tell it was him. And he was making out with some other girl who you recognised as one of Alicia Spinnet’s friends.

In all your years at Hogwarts, you had never felt like this, like there were tears burning behind your eyes.

You two had been hooking up for a few weeks, making out in the corners of empty classrooms, lying in his bed at night, his hand brushing through your hair. You had given him more than you had given anyone else in your life.

He was your first kiss. Your first make out. Your first-

You stepped yourself from thinking like that, like you were going to be sick at the sight of him, at the memories rushing through your mind on when he held you like that.

You couldn’t have said how long you had been standing there for, eyes trained on him and that girl wearing his scarf, her arms around his neck. You didn’t want to stand there for one moment more and turned around and stormed out of the room, hands shaking by your side.

You were just friends. Or at least, you were most of the time, depending what mood you were in or what was in your system

A few moments after that, Angelina turned her attention to find you but instead spotted Fred and the girl - she was the only one that you had told about everything that had happened between the two of you and she knew how much you must be hurting so when she turned around to see you rushing out of the room, she chased after without any hesitation. George stood there confused for a second before it all clicked, you liked his brother.

As he figured this out, you were stumbling down the stairs, hand gripping onto the banister as you stabilised yourself. You heard your name being called and turned to see Angelina chasing you down the stairs.

She caught up to you and started walking alongside you, watching as the tears streamed down your cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something and you stopped her before she could pity you, “I’m fine,” you choked out between a sob.

She could tell you weren’t okay, it was obvious at the way one hand gripped the banister and the other was holding your chest. you let out a little sob, breath getting caught in your throat.

How humiliating.

You wondered for a second if that was why you were so upset, because you were embarrassed that you were going to have to tell your friends what had happened, that he didn’t like you as much as you had thought that he did. How awful that you had gotten your hopes up.

At the thought of it all ending, you collapsed, knees giving way as you came crashing down onto the step, hand landing on the marble tiles as you let a sob rack through your chest.

How humiliating that Angelina had to witness this.

She sat down next to you, your head buried in your hands. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and held it in front of her.

When you looked up, she could see the mascara running down your cheeks, your eyes red from trying to hold in the tears. You felt like such a fool, sitting on the steps of Hogwarts castle crying over a boy.

”I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying,” you said, sniffling.

she shook her head, “You like him, that’s why,”

Pursing your lips together, you shook your head and looked at her, “I’ve just been so emotional lately, and-“ you furrowed your brows, lost in thought. There was no way to say that you think that you’re falling in love with Fred Weasley without sounding like a total idiot, “-and I have a cold,”

you threw your hands up at the words and she laughed, the sound making a smile pull at your lips even if you didn’t feel like being happy right now.

Dabbing the tissue at your eyes, trying to stop more of your mascara from spilling down you cheeks, Angelina passed another tissue over, “Be careful,”

You furrowed your brow, “Why?”

“You mentioned that you get conjunctivitis a lot, don’t want you to get it again,” she chuckled, remembering how three weeks ago your eye had been red from the infection.

Your smile dropped from your face. She remembered. This was what a true friend was, someone who remembered the throw away comments about how you would get conjunctivitis when you had a cold.

In that moment of heartbreak, as you realised that you had a true friend here, a few more tears slipped down your cheeks. Maybe you weren’t so unloveable, because this was love. Love was remembering things about each other that were so mundane that you wouldn’t even remember saying it.

“Thank you,”

She shrugged, “It’s a tissue, no biggie,”

You laughed and she smiled at the sound, nobody liked to see their friend as heartbroken as you clearly were, and yet here you were smiling at a silly joke she made.

”No,” you shook your head, “For this. For sitting with me,”

Angelina reached over and took your hand in hers, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,”

You let another tear slip down your cheek, because you wish you were anywhere else. You wish you had never gone to that stupid party in the first place. He had convinced you to come because of how excited he was for the Quidditch match and then he does that to you.

Anger bubbled up in your chest, a loathing for the man who had broken your heart. You squeezed your eyes shut but that only made it worse because you could see him there every time you closed your eyes, his mouth on hers, his hand on the back of her neck.

He had said he wanted something casual with you, you understood that. He wanted to make the most of his years as a single man before he even thought about being in a relationship and you had agreed.

At the time, that was what you wanted as well, something casual so that when you felt lonely, there were a pair of strong arms to hold you.

He had told you at the time that you shouldn’t go ahead with it if you were going to fall in love with him and you didn’t think that you would. Now here you were, a part of your soul having been ripped out the moment you saw him kissing that other girl.

You wanted to be angry, but the feeling faded away the second you saw him at the top of the stairs, his hair tousled. You just stared at him for a moment and he froze when he saw you, mascara smudged under your eyes.

It was humiliating.

Thats all you had been thinking all night, humiliating, humiliating, humiliating.

the fact that he was seeing you so upset over him, borderline distraught, when you had promised that there would be no feelings involved, made you feel sick to your stomach.

quickly, Angelina noticed that you were looking up at the top of the stairs and that was when she saw him. You could see her face turn from one that was sympathetic to one that was furious as she stood up, leaving her packet of tissues on the stairs. Her heels clicked as she stormed up the steps, finger pointed out, “You,”

George was standing there as well, and he reached an arm out, “Let him”

Her brows pinched together and she looked between the two brothers, seeing the sad look on Fred’s face, “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do Weasley,” she spat out before grabbing Georges arm and walking away with him.

You didnt bother to wipe the tears from your face as he walked down the stairs hesitantly, almost like he was approaching a wild animal. You looked away from him, staring down at your shoes.

“Hey,” those were the only words he said as he sat down next to you.

You shrugged. There were no words to explain the way that you felt. Your head wwas spinning, should you tell him how angry you were or how sad. There were so many emotions swirling in your chest and none of them would make any sense. you were also sure that if you opened your mouth to try to speak, a sob would come out instead.

“You saw?”

You scoffed and turned to him, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, ignoring the way the mascara probably smudged against your face, “What does it look like?”

he pursed his lips together, “That was a stupid question,”

You scoffed and then there was silence again. It was tense, like neither of you were sure about the right thing to say in this situation.

“I shouldn’t have,”

Shaking your head, you looked away from him, “You are single, you can make out with as many girls as you want to. I can’t stop you,”

“I-” he paused, pursing his lips together as he looked at you, “-I don’t want to kiss other girls,”

Scoffing again, you looked back at him, “What, you just tripped onto her mouth?”

He furrowed his brow and shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain all of the thoughts that were inside of his head because there were no right words to explain it - you both didn’t realise how alike you were in that aspect.

“I knew I was falling for you so-” he pinched the bridge of his nose, realising how stupid it all was and how saying it out loud was going to show how dumb the logic was, “-Lee dared me to try and kiss one of the girls that Spinnet hangs out with and so I did because I wanted to prove that I didn’t want to kiss other girls,”

you looked back at your feet because the tears were starting to spill over your cheeks. This was all so much to process and his stupid Weasley logic wasn’t making any sense to you.

“You kissed another girl because you liked me?” You said with a scoff.

He nodded his head enthusiastically, “Exactly!”

”You’re stupid,” those were the only words that you could think of at that moment, no silly comeback.

”I’m sorry,”

”You’re sorry you got caught,” you said, looking at him. He was so perfect as you looked at him, those pretty little freckles on his cheeks, the little lilt of his mouth. You could spend hours looking at him and never get bored.

He reached over and grabbed your hands, fully expecting you to pull away from him but instead you let them stay there, his thumb brushing over your knuckles once, then twice, just like he would do when you would lie in bed together.

“I’m sorry I ever thought it was a good idea. I’m an idiot,”

”You said it,” he laughed at your poor joke and you realised that you were happy to listen to that sound forever, that stupid, idiotic sound.

He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss along the skin on the back of your hand. He let his lips linger there for a second and you felt the hot breath against your skin, chills running down your arm.

You knew you shouldn’t after what had happened in the common room but you would take him back in a moment.

“Be my girlfriend?” He said out of the blue.

Your eyes went wide, “what?”

He smiled at your shock and scooted over closer to you, “I don’t want to be casual, I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,”

”Fred,”

he hummed in response, “Yes,”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you said and he nodded his head and leaned in, pulling you closer, lips pressing against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against your lips.

“You can make it up to me later, boyfriend,”

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp #hp fanfiction #james phelps #james phelps x reader #george weasley #midnights #mjs 1000 followed celebration

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kierewrites · 1 year ago

Text

What Would Karma Do... when a cruel teacher attacks your class?

navi - masterlist

Karma Akabane x Reader

Mood Song: judas

Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.

Warnings: depictions of violence, cursing, karma being a psycho (when is he not tho), angst with a tooth rotting sweet ending :3

"Woah! Is that..."

"I..It's cake!"

"Hand made eclairs too!

That was just a few of the many comments from your classmates as you all ogled over the picnic blanket full of sweet treats from all around the world.

Most of the time your P.E. classes consisted of intense training regimens or one-on-one combat lessons with Karasuma, but today played out so much differently than any class before.

Though even with this bizarre change, you couldn't say you were upset. Today had already started rough when you learned Karma was skipping class all day, even though you begged him not to...

"Karma.. staying up late.. isn't an.. excuse for you to.. ditch.. classes!" You whined in between kisses that were surely meant to shut you up.

Karma simply rolled his eyes before pinching your nose and smirking lazily.

"You're the one keeping me up so late angel~"

Pinching your lips together into that adorable pout he loved, you smacked his hand away and narrowed your eyes down at him, "Yeah but I'm still going to class tomorrow."

Karma let out a low growl at this, flipping you over so that he was on top of you now. He tried nearly every tactic he could to convince you to ditch school with him, but even he should’ve known nothing could stand between your academic resolve.

So since your little rascal decided to truly ditch as he promised, you couldn't help but smile for the first time all day upon seeing the lovely treats before you. There were even a few custom treats from back home that you recognized.

"T..These look sorta pricey sir, are you sure?" Isogai questioned nervously, seeming to be the only student that hadn't fallen under the trance of the sweet assortments.

The new P.E. teacher simply boomed with laughter, offering a warm smile to the class.

"Yeah! Chow down kiddos!" The teacher spoke with a large grin, "I didn't break the bank so we could stare at these babies all day!"

"You really know your way around branded sweets dontcha?" Yada spoke with a grin.

Your new teacher simply smiled before closing his eyes,

"Trust me when it comes to the good stuff.. it's love~"

All of the students were in awe at such a generous and kind teacher, not that Karasuma was mean or anything, but this was not your typical day in the Assassination Classroom.

"So you're gonna take over P.E. to help Mr. Karasuma get caught up?" Nagisa questioned, though his eyes were still glued to the chocolate eclair in his hands.

"Yup! Those are my marching orders!" The teacher declared as he looked back at the blue haired boy, "Poor guy needs some time to himself."

The students all seemed to smile at that. Admittedly it felt like Karasuma was running a one man show over here. Sure Korosensei and Professor Jelavic were around, but most of the time it felt like Karasuma was even babysitting them too.

"Wow these treats are truly amazing, thank you so much-" You began, only to be interrupted by a pink blob quite literally drooling over your new P.E teacher's shoulder.

"Ah! This fellow must be Korosensei!" Your teacher exclaimed excitedly, not even minding the literal drool dripping down his shoulder, "Please help yourself!"

Those words seemed to be the final string holding your teacher back as he wildly dug into the treats on the blanket.

"You know sir, being colleagues, you and Mr. Karasuma are night and day." Kimura spoke with a tilted head, Hara joining in with a smile,

"He's nice to us and all but you're like the neighborhood dad!"

The teacher's eyes seemed to light up at that as he let out another booming laugh before dragging you all into his arms with a tight hug.

"Dad.. I like the sound of that!"

All of your classmates seemed to laugh in unison, everyone enjoying the warm embrace and not seeming to worry about the strangely kind personality the teacher had.

"Alright everybody here?" Your teacher spoke with a smile, standing before your classmates ready for class.

"Now things are going to be tougher than usual but stick it out like the champs I know you are and we're talking more sweets!" Mr. Takaoka spoke with a grin.

"For us? Or are you really just saving them for yourself?" Nakamura sneered.

"Nope nope..." Mr. Takaoka said with a sheepish smile as he stuck his tongue out and patted his large tummy, "Don't wanna ruin this girlish figure!"

With that the class howled into laughter. This guy was almost too good to be true. Plenty generous, good sense of humor, a true care for the craft he's teaching. He really was like a big old papa bear.

Looking around you noticed your classmates seemed happy enough, nobody was ever really smiling during P.E. class, rather panting and trying to catch their breath. Maybe this would be a good change for you guys?

"Okay then, along with your new training regimen comes a new schedule!"

You along with the rest of your students looked up to the colorful paper your teacher was holding up before raising a brow as he began to hand them out.

The schedule before you was.. chaotic to say the least.

Almost every period was P.E. class, many of your academic electives now switched to training. Along with that instead of your normal school day length, the training went on until nine o'clock at night!

Looking up with wide eyes you noticed your classmates all looking around with the same bewildered faces. Maybe he was just joking around with you again?

"We have ten periods now?!"

"We train till nine pm?"

Your classmates all threw thirty different questions at the man who stood before you, his smile never faltering as everyone expressed their concerns about the new schedule.

"That's the idea, little grasshoppers!" Your teacher exclaimed with a smile, his joyful personality contrasting with the reality of the situation, "Don't be glum, think of the payoff! This curriculum will turn you into lean, mean, killing machines-"

"Wait hold up hold up, this is ridiculous!" Maehara interrupted, Mr. Takaoka's smile faltering, "First off this is school, we gotta think about grades too."

Mr. Takaoka simply smiled sheepishly while scratching the back of his head. Maybe this guy was just so hardcore he forgot you guys actually had to take academic classes.

"I mean come on we can't go by this! We're supposed to stu-"

The boy's words were cut off when the teacher placed a gentle palm on the top of his head. Everyone seemed to raise a brow until he lifted his knee up and slammed Maehara's chin down onto his knee with a painful crack.

The entire class gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you backed up on your knees. Was this some sort of sick joke? Did he and Maehara practice this skit? The way his practically lifeless form dropped to the ground really didn't make it seem that way.

"Rule number one, we don't do can't." Mr. Takaoka spoke in a dark voice, his smile still spread across his lips proudly as he watched the boy twitch on the ground in pain.

"Rule number two, we are a family and I'm the dad," He continued to speak, his continuous use of the word "dad" suddenly backfiring on all of you, "Show me a family where dad ain't in charge and I'll show you a family in crisis."

The man began to lecture you all, ominous smile still spread across his face as he walked around your group with his hands expectantly behind his back.

"A father loves each of his children unconditionally, the thought of even losing one of ‘em breaks his heart. We're gonna save the world kids, and we're gonna do it as a family." Mr. Takaoka finished, gathering Mimura and Kanzaki in his arms.

All of you seemed to flinch when he did this, especially your two classmates in his embrace. The sight of both of their cringing faces made you feel hot inside, not in the good way.

"I.. Actually sir, to tell you the truth.." Kanzaki spoke nervously, tugging herself out of his embrace and standing up with her arms nervously clamped together, "I'm not much for P.E. If I have to do it, I much prefer Mr. Karasuma's class!"

You couldn't help but smile at Kanzaki. Even in such a tense situation she always made sure to remain polite and cheerful as she smiled up to the aggressive teacher.

But as soon as you saw Mr. Takaoka lick his lip you knew this wouldn't end well.

Without hesitation he smacked his hand across her face so hard she flew backwards and rolled against the dirt with a cry.

"Kanzaki!" Your classmates cried as a few rushed over to her trembling figure.

"Looks like we're having a bit of a communication gap!" Mr. Takaoka said with that same dreadfully cheerful smile. The sight made your fists clench, Nagisa already seeming to notice the gears in your head turning as he placed a gentle palm on your wrist.

"The only answer here is yes-"

"NO!"

Your sudden shout caused the teacher to pause, his head tilting as a sadistic smile formed on his lips.

"Oh?"

"You can't keep hurting our classmates just because we don't do what you say. You aren't our real teacher and your training regimen is borderline insane! How are we supposed to pass our exams with your foot up our ass till the late night hours?"

Your teacher simply chuckled as he looked at you with wide crazed eyes through his hooded expression.

"Bothers you that much little grasshopper? Come show me what you're gonna do about it then!"

Letting out an annoyed growl you got low, ready to pounce until Nagisa grabbed your wrist more firmly this time.

"Y/n don't bother, he's going to seriously hurt you! This guy clearly isn't a regular gym coach."

Ignoring what he said, all you could do was glare into this man's beady little eyes that only fueled your fire.

"Let go, Nagisa." You hissed before snatching your wrist out of his grasp and darting forward.

Nagisa along with the rest of your classmates watched nervously. As sweet as you were, some of Karma's reckless traits were really starting to rub off on you. Ever since you all had gotten kidnapped, you swore you would get stronger so you could protect everyone, but of course that didn't stop the class from worrying.

Darting forward you blocked his first swing, quickly maneuvering your footing so that you spun behind him, forming your palm to be firm and flat before chopping your hand on the back of his neck right where the pressure point is.

After watching Nagisa and Karma train together, and even getting to train a little bit with them whenever Karma would finally give in to your whining, you learned a few tricks from both of them.

Nagisa was definitely a defensive fighter, more so focused on strategic attacks and blocking. Karma was a hands on offensive attacker, he wasted no time to give the opponent a moment to think.

Finally it seemed like your training had paid off as Mr. Takaoka let out a shout of pain as he stumbled forward onto his hands and knees, your strike seeming to make his vision blur.

"Nice hit Y/n!" Nakumura shouted, your classmates all cheering for you as you wiped a blade of sweat from your forehead.

"It's just like Karma taught me, it's not about the power of your strike but the precision!" You said with a smile, giving the gym teacher one last glance.

A small part of you felt giddy about the experience as you began to rehearse in your head how you would brag to Karma about taking down a grown man. Finally your training was beginning to pay off.

As you began to walk back to your cheerful classmates you felt life almost go into slow motion when you saw Nagisa's smile begin to drop, his eyes widened as he screamed your name and pointed behind you.

Before you could even turn your head back a quarter of the way you felt a strong grip on the back of your ponytail causing you to yell out in pain when the hand tugged you backwards.

"Not so fast you smug bitch." Mr. Takaoka growled with a psychotic smile as he swung his leg up and over your body before cracking it down on your abdomen hard.

The feeling alone had the breath knocked out of you before you could even hit the ground. You let out a sharp scream until your back hit the ground so hard you bounced up from the sheer force, a garbled choke escaping your lips before you officially fell to the ground.

"Y/n!" Your class shouted, Nagisa already sliding on his knees towards you as you struggled for air, loud chokes and gasps filling the air while you shriveled up holding your abdomen in pain. The lack of air wouldn't even allow you to cry as you felt your vision grow blurry.

Nagisa quickly lifted your shirt just enough to see a dark purple bruise forming across your skin, the feeling of something warm and wet being coughed up onto his hand that was keeping you upright.

His eyes widened at the sight of blood, his eyes frantically looking down at you as more of your classmates began to try and help you up.

How had your cheerful P.E. class turned into a bloodbath?

Karma continued to huff out profanities as he shuffled up the dirt hill, hands shoved deep in his pockets as a scowl formed on his lips.

"Dumb angel, always making me feel so damn guilty..." Karma mumbled as he kicked a few stones on the way.

It was weird, before he met you he never really cared about anything when it came to academics. He wasn't even depressed or stupid or even lazy, he just didn't quite care.

Where was school going to get him anyway? Graduate next year and go to college to take the same brainwashing classes he's taken since he learned to walk? To get a piece of paper that says congrats, now you can make money!

It was all ridiculous to him.

But ever since your stupid adorable ass showed up into his life, he saw things differently.

He wanted to have goals in life just to impress you, he wanted to go to college wherever you were going so you could grow together. He wanted to see the world with you, always be at your side so he would never lose you.

He could see it now, both of you finally done with all this school bullshit and sitting along the edge of a cliff that overlooked a vast blue sea as the sun would set along the dazzling colorful sky.

You would be sitting in between his crossed legs as he held you in a tight warm embrace.

"I love you Karma." You would whisper ever so gently from those sweet lips of yours as you tilted your head back so your sparkling hues could stare into his own.

Karma would smile down to you, watching as the ocean breeze danced through both of your locks as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too Y/n." Karma whispered aloud, the sound of his own voice snapping him back to reality as he let out a growl and shook his head.

You were like a demon haunting his mind except quite the opposite, more like an angel from heaven always clouding his mind in the best way possible. You truly were going to be the death of him.

Once finally making it up the hill, Karma came up with the excuse that he forgot his textbook for when his classmates would surely ask why he decided to show up halfway through the day. He would never admit it was just so he could see your pretty face before the day's end.

As he shuffled up the steps lazily he raised a brow when he saw a few students outside, crowded around Mr. Karasuma and some other large man that seemed to be smiling a bit crazy.

Raising a brow he shrugged with a smirk, assuming they were doing some strange training routine.

Sliding the wood door open he walked down the hallway until he saw class 3-E and slid the door open, awaiting to see the rest of his classmates studying silently, only to find the room completely empty.

Freezing he narrowed his eyes around the room, something wasn't right.

There were only about half of his classmates outside training, you not being one of them, where could the rest of you have been? It's not like they split the boys and girls up, he saw a mix of them all outside.

Shutting the classroom door, he decided to make his way back outside until he heard a voice come from down the hall.

"Y/n you have got to stop being so reckless, it's going to get you killed one day!"

The very sentence froze Karma in his tracks, his ears perking up at the sound of your name.

Your weak cough filled the air sending chills down his spine as you spoke up.

"But I..I didn’t die, did I? I had to do something, he was going to hurt all of our classmates!"

The redhead slowly turned his head around with grit teeth, his eyes falling on the door where all the sound was coming from, only to see it was the nurses office.

Karma was praying for his sake and your sake that you just played some crazy prank on someone and that you didn't actually do something reckless. But knowing you, he was sure that wasn't the case.

"So you thought it would be better if he hurt you?" A voice spoke up, "You know Karma's going to kill you for this."

Crescent shaped moons began to form into the redhead’s palms as the very thing he worried about had been confirmed, someone hurt you. Quickly he began to storm down the hallway, ready to slide the door open before he heard your pathetic voice.

"Well I didn't plan on him crushing my spleen," You spoke out stubbornly with another cough, Karma's vision slowly starting to turn red with anger, "Besides, Karma skipped today so Karma will never find out about this. Got it?"

At this Karma froze as a sadistic smile quirked upon his lips, you sneaky little fox.

Putting on the most neutral face he could even amongst his slow boiling anger, he slid the door open causing everyone in the room to jump. His first sight was you, Maehara, and Kanzaki all laying down on the nurse tables. Sugino, Okuda, and Yada were also in the room which must have been the people talking.

"Oh Y/n dearest, am I interrupting something? Sorry I was late for class, just slept through my alarm!" Karma said in a gentle tone, sticking his tongue out to appear innocent.

The sight of your red headed boyfriend caused you to shriek as you forced yourself off of the bed with a grunt. Once you realized standing wasn't quite an option, you leaned on the side of the table, trying to appear as casual as possible. All that silenced your pained whimper was the harsh bite you held on your tongue while you forced a smile.

"K..Karma! I thought uh.. I thought you were skipping today!" You spoke cheekily, though it was clear to everyone how heavy you were breathing. Sugino looked at you nervously to make sure you didn't collapse on the floor as everyone else in the room felt the awkward tension.

Karma smirked down to you, though it wasn’t his signature cocky one, but rather a menacing one as he sauntered over to you.

"Oh you know, I wouldn't want to miss any lessons would I?" Karma spoke darkly, though he kept that same cheerful smile on his face, "Besides I couldn’t possibly make it through the day without a hug from my sweet angel.”

The sound of that caused your eyes to widen, quickly backing up the best you could as he neared you.

"Oh really? I don't know uh.. I'm not quite feeling a hug right now… I'm actually kind of hot!" You exclaimed, your classmates nervously watching as Karma neared you while you ran out of space to back into, "You don't wanna hug all my icky sweat d..do you?"

"Oh, I think I do." Karma growled, forcing his arms around you gently.

Sure enough as soon as he made even the gentlest of contact, you let out a cry as your knees buckled beneath you, Karma quickly caught you before lifting you up on the bed once more.

"Fuck Y/n, do you think I’m an idiot?” Karma growled, grabbing both of your fighting wrists that were trying to push his hands away with one hand, while lifting your shirt up with the other.

Though Karma knew you were injured, he never in a million years expected to see the wound that was displayed across your abdomen. A large maroon bruise stretched from either side of your stomach, the color getting darker at the center.

The redhead let go of your wrists so as not to hurt you any further, deciding to instead grip the edge of the metal bed, the sound of the cool material bending sending chills through your body.

"Who did this?" Karma growled, looking up at you through rageful hooded eyes.

Swallowing nervously you quickly placed both of your hands on either side of his shoulders, remembering how violent he got last time you got kidnapped, he couldn't have you killing your actual teacher, he would surely get expelled.

"Karma calm down, it's seriously not as bad as it looks I promise-"

The sound of his fist slamming down on the table beside you caused you to jump with a small yelp, his pupils narrowed to slits as he angrily glared at you.

"Damnit Y/n, stop trying to be the hero and tell me who did this! It looks like they crushed one of your fucking organs!"

"They made her cough up blood too." Yada spoke from over your shoulder, your head quickly whipping back to glare at her as her comment only fueled your boyfriend's raging mood.

Inhaling sharply, Karma tried to calm himself down so as not to yell at you before looking at you once more.

"Y/n, tell me who did this to you."

Biting at the corner of your lip you let out a defeated sigh and looked away sheepishly.

"We got a new P.E. teacher today, Mr. Takaoka, and he seemed really nice and cheerful... he even brought us treats!" You exclaimed trying to defend your reasoning, "B..But then when he showed us our new training schedules he took out all of our academic classes and was going to make us stay till nine pm everyday."

The sound of that made Karma raise his brow briefly, even to him that made no sense.

"So a few classmates expressed that to him, Maehara and Kanzaki..." You said softly, Karma just now noticing his two other injured classmates that only made him angrier, "But he lashed out and attacked them brutally… He was going to hurt every last one of them if I didn't step in, I swear I wasn't being reckless Karma I just…"

Karma's stern expression broke for a second when he heard you choke over words, you looked down before looking back up with glossy eyes once more.

"I couldn't just stand by again!"

The redhead flinched slightly at this, flashbacks to your conversation after you had gotten kidnapped flooding back to him. Of course you weren't being an idiot like him, you just wanted to protect your friends.

The redhead looked up to the ceiling in a poor attempt to hide the insane rage in his eyes, a ragged sigh escaping his lips before he looked down at you softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your thigh.

"So what you're saying is I need to put an old fuck in his place then, yeah?"

Your eyes widened at this as you watched him stroll out of the nurse's office, you quickly tried to follow after him but not before falling into Okuda's arms.

"Y/n you really shouldn't move..." Okuda said softly as you wrapped your arm around her shoulder.

Looking down at the gentle girl pleadingly, you glanced back at the door, "Okuda please, Karma can't fight that guy, he's going to get hurt!"

Okuda bit her lip before looking at her other classmates that shared worried looks.

"Let's all go out together so we can at least warn Mr. Karasuma and Korosensei."

Karma being "mad" was an understatement.

Admittedly he did snap at you which he certainly didn't mean to, but now he was angry for a different reason.

Like hell was some old fashioned pig of a man going to throw his classmates around. Especially after you still were recovering from the kidnapping scenario. He was getting so excited to see your combat skills were vastly improving, so to see you torn back down to square one royally pissed him off.

Slamming the door open he noticed a few eyes on him, but most of them were on the large teacher that was nestled in between Nagisa's legs. Karma’s eyes widened for a moment, impressed that Nagisa was able to take down such a beast.

Clearly the blue haired boy had gotten stronger, and he was sure Nagisa felt just as much rage as him after seeing you in such a state. Still though, he noticed the large teacher get up once Nagisa let go so he knew this wasn't quite over yet.

Soon after Karma began to head to the scene you and your other injured classmates slowly made your way outside, the sight of Karma getting closer to the man causing you to freeze.

Of course Karma could take care of himself, hell you wouldn't be surprised if he could take this man out with his bare fists alone, but it was clear Mr. Takaoka wasn't a fair fighter. Karma was skilled, but he couldn't be prepared if the crazed man pulled a gun on him.

You attempted to call out Karma's name but he pretended not to hear you as he walked to the scene.

Looking around you quickly shouted Mr. Karasuma's name, his concerned eyes moved over to you before looking over to an angry Karma as you pointed to him. Mr. Karasuma gave you a curt nod in understanding.

At this point all you could do was watch the scene play out and hope nobody else got hurt.

"You ungrateful punks." Mr. Takaoka growled, his fists clenched and his body flexed like he was a giant bear, "You think it's fun shaming your father figure, huh?

A pit sat in the bottom of your stomach. Even as beat up as Mr. Takaoka looked, he was still screaming his head off. The expression of pure rage he wore while looking at Nagisa made it look like he was going to rip his head off.

"Having the time of your life pretending you won? Hope it was worth it cause daddy's about to rip you apart! Mind body and soul-"

All of the students began to yell for Nagisa to move, Mr. Karasuma ready to run and stop this crazed man's punch, but Korosensei simply placed his tentacle on Mr. Karasuma's shoulder to hold him back.

Mr. Karasuma angrily looked back at Korosensei in confusion as to why he stopped him, but when a crack filled the air all eyes worriedly looked over to Nagisa.

Once the dust cleared up from the dirt beneath him, everyone gasped in surprise when they saw an unharmed Nagisa with his arm defensively up. If he didn't get hit then what was the cracking sound?

Sure enough the class' crazy redhead stood before Mr. Takaoka, his meaty fist caught by Karma's hand.

Mr. Takaoka let out a grunt of surprise, seeing that his quivering fist stood no chance against Karma’s simple block. To make matters worse, Karma lazily smirked up to the man and let out a sneer.

"Is that all you've got, old man?"

Mr. Takaoka began to shake in fury as he ripped his hand from Karma's grasp.

"Why you little-"

The gym teacher began to throw another fist with much more force, but Karma simply caught it once again and used the force to swing his arm around and pin it against his back so that he couldn't move.

"Nobody likes a sore loser~" Karma cooed tauntingly before his foot connected with Mr. Takaoka's spine, the kick pummeling the teacher into the ground as his face dragged against the dirt.

Everyone watched with wide eyes. No matter how many times they saw Karma in action, everyone seemed to forget his own raw strength beyond his insane ability.

You finally let out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you were holding in this entire time as you watched Karma walk beside the teacher.

Mr. Takaoka attempted to lift his head weakly from the ground, still mumbling out profanities but Karma simply grabbed the base of his skull and slammed his face into the dirt before moving his face real close to the teachers.

The P.E. teacher felt fear flow over his body, the same way he did when Nagisa made his cheap move on him in their previous fight. The red haired boy practically stared into his soul with those sinister golden hues that looked almost excited to have him in such a degrading position.

"Tell me Mr. Tough Guy," Karma spoke calmly before roughly yanking Mr. Takaoka's head to face you and your injured classmates, "Were you the one that harmed my classmates over there?"

The teacher let out a grunt through his teeth, words struggling to form to his lips out of a mix of pain and anger.

Karma simply laughed, sending chills to those around him as he yanked the man's head to face Karma once again, making sure to tug harshly on his hair making Mr. Takaoka scream out in pain.

"I said.." Karma growled with narrowed eyes, "Did you lay even a single finger on my angel over there?"

Mr. Takaoka narrowed his eyes back to Karma, a slight grin coming on his face when he realized where all the anger was bubbling up from within the redhead. Making eye contact with you for a second he let out a choked out laugh before nodding.

"I sure did, and I regret noth-"

The teacher couldn't get out another word before Karma slammed his head directly into the dirt.

"Then you can stay there like the filthy mut you are, teach!" Karma exclaimed with a smile, not even caring to hear what else the man had to say as he stood up and walked back to his silent classmates.

Even after all of that the teacher tried his very best, though wasn't very successful, to get back up to which didn't go unnoticed by Karma.

"Hmmm.." Karma said as if in thought before his eyes fell on Nagisa, "Hand me the knife Nagisa."

The blue haired boy knew better than to question Karma in this state so he handed the knife over, though as Mr. Karasuma yelled for him to stop he soon regretted it.

Karma simply ignored their cries and before they could reach him he threw the knife with such precision it landed directly in the center of Mr. Takaoka's palm causing him to cry out in pain.

"Just so you don't get any ideas of getting up champ." Karma spoke as he patted the man's cheek before standing up and brushing his hands off.

Everyone seemed to let out a sigh when realizing Karma was done. Even with the damage done, his classmates were expecting a much more violent scene to play out, so this was the best outcome that could have happened.

Not even a few moments later as Mr. Karasuma dealt with Mr. Takaoka, the principal himself came down to lead the teacher off the premises. The students were surprised to see the principal take their side for once, but he did once again remind them that he cared about academics above all else.

For now, it was a win for Class 3-E, and the class treated it as such.

Of course both Korosensei and Mr. Karasuma scolded Karma for his dangerous behavior, but given the bizarre situation he got off with a warning. Both knew how possessive he got with you and Korosensei especially knew it came out of a place of concern.

As Mr. Karasuma walked off to check on the other students, Karma moved to go meet with you and Nagisa, only for a tentacle to stop him.

"Y/n truly held her ground you know." Korosensei spoke, Karma freezing as he looked up to his teacher that was already looking at you.

"She kept up with him easily for a few minutes and was able to get him down on his hands and knees, your training with her is really paying off."

Karma glanced from Korosensei back to you as a proud smile flashed across his face. Even with your grotesque injury, you were joking around with your friends, a smile on your face even with the intense day you had.

"I'm really proud of her." Karma spoke simply, those words filling Korosensei's heart up with hope.

"With that said, though she has a lot left to learn from you, don't forget to also keep learning from her."

At this Karma looked up to Korosensei with a raised brow.

"What do you mean?"

"As much as you hate to admit it, Y/n has changed you for the better Karma. You may claim she's made you weaker, but she's truly made you stronger. You aren't as reckless and careless anymore. You truly care for your classmates and want not only the best for them, but the best for yourself."

Korosensei looked down to Karma, who for once all day was speechless.

"You two are going to build each other up into the best individuals you can be, so keep learning from each other young man."

Karma looked back at you with furrowed brows. How did this damned octopus always know exactly what Karma was thinking, but was too embarrassed to say out loud? Hearing it come from Korosensei really made the redhead feel better, but of course he would never admit that.

"Alright alright you big sap, thanks for the advice but it's nothing I didn't already know," Karma spoke as he rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, "Trust me Y/n is going to learn real well from me, she'll be my sweet little assassin by my side in no time."

Korosensei smiled at that until he noticed Karma pull out the knife from before as he flipped it around his fingers.

"And you'll be our first target teach~"

Korosensei began to go off in a frenzy, trying to grab the knife from Karma but to no avail as the boy walked off snickering.

For some reason unlike the first traumatic event you had with your classmates, this one didn't hit you as hard as usual. Sure you wished you didn’t have to endure that, the wound across your gut proving that point, but at the same time you felt so warm and safe being surrounded by your friends.

You've learned so much within your time here and it wasn't even the end of the first semester.

"Uh oh, red devil alert." Nagisa spoke nervously, your eyes falling on Karma as he sauntered over to you with an emotionless expression.

Sheepishly looking away you played with your fingers, refusing to look into those disapproving eyes as you awaited the sure lecture he would give you.

Once you heard him sit beside you, you raised a brow when no words came out of his mouth. Just before you could lift your head up, you felt gentle fingers grab your chin and tug your lips towards his own.

The kiss was unlike his usual ones, but not foreign to you. It wasn’t rough or rushed, but rather sweet and coordinated. The redhead kept your chin in his hold even after pulling away, his eyes glancing down to meet your nervous gaze.

"What you did today was crazy and not well thought out," Karma started, his brows furrowing together as he looked at you intensely before a small smile appeared on his lips, "But it was also very brave of you. I'm proud of you for sticking up for your classmates."

For a moment your brain shut off. The words "I'm proud of you" sounded foreign in general, let alone coming from your stubborn boyfriend himself.

Once you processed what was said you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks as your lips rose into the prettiest smile Karma had ever seen in his life. Quickly you gather Karma into your arms, the boy taken aback before welcoming your warm embrace into his arms.

"Thank you Karma." You whispered into his chest, appreciating his new found trust and proudness in you.

This wasn't the same Karma you met when you got here, but you're so happy with how much you've both grown.

"She did totally kick ass Karma." Nagisa said with a grin, the redhead pulling away from you just so he could look at his friend, "She straight up spun behind that guy and before he could even process it, she cracked him right in the back of his neck, it was insane!"

"Oh did she now?"

Smiling wider, you looked over to Karma with a grin as you slowly got up on your knees, grunting a bit as you were trying to be careful not to strain your abdomen.

"I did! He was all like ‘woah where did she go’,” You spoke, mocking the large man’s voice as you knit your brows in an attempt to look scary, “And I was all like, ‘surprise!’ before I chopped down on his neck.”

Karma watched your movements with a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement and pride as you explained your tactics.

“He was totally knocked out for like… a few seconds at least.” You said with a pant, smiling down to the two boys that watched with matching smiles.

Karma couldn’t help but snort at your final pose, his arms grabbing the back of your thighs and gently lifting you into his lap, so as to not agitate your wound any further..

"Of course my sweet angel kicked his ass, she learned from the best after all~" Karma said with a cocky grin, Nagisa giving an unimpressed brow raise as you stuck out your tongue to him.

You all joked around until the class seemed to finally calm down, all of you eating the sweet treats Mr. Takaoka brought before he went psycho on you all.

It wasn't until you hummed against Karma's chest that he felt a sense of deja vu.

There you were, nestled between his crossed legs, your body cuddled up against his warm embrace as you nibbled on the flakey pastry in your hand.

Looking practically upside down backwards to Karma you stared into his beautiful golden eyes before offering a sweet smile, your lips quite literally covered in white powder from your pastry.

"I love you Karma." You whispered softly, giggling when Karma placed a quick kiss on your lips, only for his tongue to swipe those plush lips of yours to get the remaining powder from them.

Sure you weren't overlooking the large ocean on a dramatically beautiful cliff, and there were a few additions to the picture that Karma could've gone without. But he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I love you too Y/n."

next chapter

#karma akabane #karma #akabane #karma akabane x reader #karma akabane x you #karma x reader #karma x you #kunugigaoka #assasination classroom #long fic #angst #soft #i’m finally caught up yay :3

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