#he did this for me he knows i have three chem lessons today and i needed motivation

[boyfhee]

new fav hee selcas dropped

[kkusuka]

hiii I was wondering if you could do a threesome w kuroo bokuto and y/n?? plsss💞

i can actually, that’s the fun part.

(I'm going to try to use gender-neutral pronouns, but the reader has female anatomy, I hope that’s ok!) 

I deadass just took this and ran with it oml. 

All 18+, public sex, circumstantial humiliation, slight voyeurism, orgasm denial, threesome M/F/M, they’re both kind mean but not really, slight degrading 

Synopsis: Your college chem class is kicking your ass so when your professor recommends you to Kuroo, who seems to come in a package deal with another owl-ish boy, you were more than thankful. 

4/25

You couldn't believe it, you were so sure you had done well on this test. You made flashcards and even scoured the web for as many quizlets on the subject as you possibly could. But one thing remained the same: Masahiro sensei’s chemistry class was kicking your ass. 

No matter how many times you looked at the reference tables and started at the elements you didn't understand a single word that came out of that man's mouth. What’s worse is that you seemed to be the only one who ever had trouble in his class, and he always made sure to let you know. 

Side glances during lectures, calling you out when he knows you have no clue what the answer could be, talking about how 'some people’ would do better if they tried harder. You just didn't know what else to do. 

So, in some twisted way, you were thankful when he requested to keep you a few minutes after class requesting to talk about some personal issues. Issues you wished would include a new grade and easier tests. 

But him telling you about a boy with exceptional grades who would be a perfect fit to help you out, was something you had expected, but did not want. You felt more embarrassed than you already were, couldn't he just give you a website where you could watch videos about ionic and binary compounds? 

Looking back to the phone number he had written for you on an index card, you relent. Sending a quick message to the number you shut your phone off and tried to get to your dorm, dropping onto your bed faster than you’d like to admit. 

Hey, this is y/n l/n, Masahiro-sensei gave me your number for possible tutoring, if you're up for it of course. Any time for me works. 12:56 pm 

Yeah, he let me know about a possible tutoring session, how about the library tomorrow at 4? 1:03 pm 

I'm Kuroo Tetsurou btw. 1:07 pm

And like that your day got 10x worse, you don't even know who this way. You at least hoped it was the boy with the fluffy hair in the first row. At least Masahio told him, you assume it may have gone worse, tomorrow at the library at 4. 

You could deal with that. 

-- 

Your first meeting had gone fairly well. You arrived that the library entrance five minutes early reaching for your phone to let the mysterious Kuroo Tetsurou know that you had arrived, but before you could get that far- 

“No need babe, I'm right here, L/n right?” 

He was tall, taller than you at least. Tall enough to be able to lock down at you. Looking at you with his narrow hazel eyes and his sleazy yet comforting cat-like smile. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a bright red- volleyball jacket? Nekoma volleyball club must be from high school. 

He led you to an isolated corner of the science section on the third floor, a place you had frequented during your mid-semester crying chemistry sessions-- hopefully your tears have dried up by now and you won't make a fool of yourself. 

He wasted no time asking exactly what you need help with and seemed more than surprised when you told him everything. He let out a laugh that made you want to get up and run away before letting you know that it was normal to be confused and that you would just start with the electron configurations. 

It was going great, he was an amazing teacher and knew exactly what to tell you to make you remember all the rules of the SPDF configurations and everything leading up to the oxidation states of the transition metals. It was just sad that he had to go over everything a second time just for you to get it in your mind. 

In the middle of explaining lead’s second oxidation state, Kuroos phone lit up with a notification a Bokuto was calling. Without a second glance, he declined the call and went right to the first state of silver. 

Three seconds in this same Bokuto called back after a few choice texts, letting out a sigh he apologized muting about a stupid owl not giving him a moment of rest no matter the time of day. 

He picked up and tried to walk away as quick as he could, the only thing you could gain from the conversion was a 

HEY HEY! you still at the library? Though you’d be done by now Kuroo!

To which Kuroo told whoever was on the end of the line, that he didn't mind and they should mind their own business. Then you were out of earshot. when he came back he looked as if the life was sucked from his soul. 

He plopped into the chair across from you and sat for a second before releasing a deep breath. He looked back at you connecting eyes--they looked impossibly cat-like under the lights of the library-- before shooting you a shifty smirk. 

“Babe you're doing great but I've gotta cut it off for today, and you don't mind if a friend joins us for the next few sessions? He isn't that bright.” 

It took you of all five seconds to think of your answer, another person who wasn't the brightest will make you look less stupid. Just the thought made you feel bad, you're sure that Bokuto was a wonderful person, hopefully, and did not deserve to be used to make you seem less hopeless. Yet still, 

“Yes! That’s totally fine, I'll see you in two days?” 

“Sounds great” 

--

“‘C'mon babe what's the dashed configuration of bromine?” 

You didn't know, or maybe you did. It's not like that would matter considering the two fingers curling into your sweet spot. You could only focus on the way he rubbed your throbbing nub that sent sparks straight beach into your core. 

“I-i I don’t- god, please, please, need to cum.” you were so close, Kuroo had already ripped two orgasms from you because you didn't know the answer, and you were going to scream if he did it again. “Please, wanna cum” 

“No can do baby Owl, that’s the deal no cumming until you get the question.” 

Bokuto. 

You would have forgotten he was there if it weren't for his piercing gaze on Kuroo’s fingers drenched in your slick. Not once has it wavered from you, your silt to you tits up to your lips. 

You had to try, he’ll stop. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know the answer, they know you know the answer. Somewhere else in your mind you think about how you got caught up in this in the first place. 

How Kuroo was frustrated and told you the if you got another wrong answer he would fuck the right one into you. Or bokuto purposely mocking him that sent him further until his hands were pulling your panties down your legs stuffing two fingers in your cunt, saying how he won't stop until you get all the answers right. 

“Two- e-eight- eight-teen- please please, si--six- NO seven, it’s seven. ‘M so close please” 

Kuroo seemed pleased with your answer, his hands moving quickly around your bud and curling further into your g-spot as Bokuto makes his way around the table to where the two of you are seated. 

Pulling the shirt above your head, Bokuto circles a nipple through the fabric of your bra commenting on how quickly it had pebbled, attaching his mouth to your other as Kuroo commanded you to cum around his relentless digits. 

Clenching around his fingers you hadn't noticed a head of white and black hair moving towards your center. Coming off the high of your orgasm you felt Bokuto’s tongue spread your lips as his nose circled your clit.  

“Oh, dude! You gotta taste ‘em! Like liquid gold, Man!” 

You flushed further, if possible, tethering a hand into Bokuto's hair. Understanding the compliment Kuroo swiped a finger along your slick-covered thighs and let a mockingly loud moan fall between his lips. 

As if you could be more embarrassed by the noises of Bokuto slurping whatever he could catch in his mouth, Kuroo’s coos of how red you look and how delicious you look, as the man under you eats as if it was his last meal. 

Two hands grabbed your waist and lifted you off Bokuto, placing you back on your feet. Turing you toward the wall of windows and hand on your back bent you over the table surrounded by all of your notes. 

“Look at that, she’s just gushing all over the place. All this over a chemistry lesson? Who knew I was teaching such a cockwhore this whole time.” a hand met your clit as Kuroo began to push into you, forcing you further into the table. 

You heard a gasping moan as he bottomed out, glancing over to where Bokuto sat hand around the base of his cock, standing as Kuroo waved him over to you. 

“I think you can fit two, right?”  and just like that bokuto was forcing his way into your clenching walls. There was discomfort until a soft pop to which both the boys let out a sigh. 

You feel so full. You didn't know who but one of them was brushing against your cervix. The first thrust came to you as a surprise,  following with a second's rest before the two of them created a steady rhythm.

The faster they went the more apparent it was, they were using you like a fleshlight. You couldn't even speak as a cock hit right at your g-spot. Back arching you let out a series of small “ahs” much to Kuroo’s enjoyment. 

“You fucking like this! Getting dicked where everyone can see. By two cocks no less!” he laughed pulling your head up from its place in your arms, making you have to look at your reflection in the glass. 

“No-no I-” a smack to your ass stopped you from trying to defend what little dignity you had left. There was no defending as Bokuto leaned towards your ear, never breaking rhythm. 

“No?,” he was practically snarling, “Then why the hell are you clenching our dicks so well, Baby Owl?”  

As if he flipped a switch your world went dark as you clenched further on the two men as you came. Riding out your orgasm neither of them let up the pace as they jackhammered into your poor pussy. 

Bokuto came first, with a loud groan of your name before he slumped into the chair he previously inhabited.  Settling to watch as Kuroo pulled your chest up to meet your back to his chest. Rutting into you as his orgasm rapidly approaches. 

If you weren't so sure this place was desolate you would be worried about someone hearing the slaps of your skin, or Kuroo’s final grunt as he filled you with his load, dropping you to lean on the table. 

At least your next chemistry test was graded with a 21/25, you’re sure the two of them will love to hear about that.

[bqstqnbruin]

F is for Friends - part 3

Whoops I'm in class rn but I just finished part 3 so here it is! I think this is the longest part so far, but not much longer than the others, so have fun.

But yeah, ignore typos, I might fix them eventually, but knowing me, I'll miss them so call em out if you feel like it.

Read the other parts here: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 4

________________________

“I don’t get why it has to be him, though,” Keelan whines on the other end of the phone. You did the stupid thing and reminded him that Nolan and some of his teammates were visiting your classroom to do a lab with your honors kids today, and he reacted exactly how you expected him to while you were driving in that morning.

“Because Anderson is an ass and Nolan volunteered.”

“Ok, but why Nolan?” he asks, saying his name like it was cursed

“Because when I called Tom Holland he said he was busy.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles.

“No, I don’t.” Yes, you did, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“Why couldn’t you have invited Fran and Lindsey?”

You sigh, pulling into your parking space outside the school, Javier already waiting for you by the door. “Because they had to be prominent and I don’t think anyone needs the two of them trying to do an experiment. Now, I have to go, Nolan and the guys will be here after lunch, I’m already fucking nervous because of Anderson. I love you, goodbye,” you tell him, hanging up before he can get another word in.

“Are you ready?” Javier asks, handing you the cup of coffee he had picked up for you, waiting outside by his car like he did every morning.

“I almost threw up, like, five times getting ready this morning and Keelan is being an ass about this,” you huff, struggling to swipe your ID to get into the building. “Why isn’t this working?”

He takes the ID out of your hand, flipping it around in his fingers before swiping it himself. “Holding it the right way might help.”

You take it from him, clearly annoyed. “If this is any indication as to how the rest of the day is going to go I’m quitting and looking for another job at 3 pm.”

“So you’re not going to be dramatic today, I see,” Javier jokes, earning a glare from him as the two of you walk up to your classroom, greeting students as you passed by them in the halls. “Hey, listen. You’re a great teacher,” your friend assures you once you unlock your classroom door. “You’re going to be fine. If you need me, I have my free period during your first class they’re here, and I think Charlie has a free period during your second if you still need someone to run interference when Anderson is there.”

“Thanks,” you tell him, turning into your classroom to get ready for the day. Your phone was buzzing with texts, some angry from Keelan about what he was now referring to as ‘the neighbor situation,’ and one from Nolan asking you to confirm yet again where they were supposed to go.

“Are you buying lunch today?” Javier comes back into your room with his own to stash in the fridge that was in the back corner of your class. It wasn’t yours, nor was it for food technically, but that didn’t stop you and Javier from stashing your lunches in there instead of walking down to the teacher's lounge on the other side of the school.

You sit there for a minute, trying to remember if you even grabbed it when you were heading out the door that morning. Between Keelan busting your ass about Nolan, thinking of the lesson the lab that you were doing that afternoon, and just the general morning antics of getting out the door on time, you left your lunch bag on your kitchen counter. “Is there still a box of cereal in there?” you ask him when he opens the fridge.

“Yeah.”

“That’s my lunch then,” you say, keeping it in there so it wouldn’t be exposed to chemicals or attract any sort of rodent or vermin that you had no desire in dealing with. You knew today was going to be hell, and you weren’t even prepared for the college prep kids you were going to see during the second and third periods. You do your best to scramble and get everything you needed, thankful for the first time that you were giving them a test that you could grade during lunch and last period (and honestly, at home since that’s where most grading took place) instead of having to worry about teaching them when your mind was occupied by your honors lesson that day.

By the time your college prep kids were done with their tests, you were trying to mentally prepare for the lab, only to freak yourself out. Your computer dings, right before the bell rings, a message from Anderson saying that he would be stopping by during the second period to observe since ‘it was his job to make sure you were doing well as your superior.’ God, you hated him. The bell for lunch rings, your students filing out of your room as you grab the mug you kept on your desk and poured as much cereal into it as you could.

Javier comes back into your room, grabbing his lunch and plopping himself down at the table, eating his lunch as the two of you fell into conversation as you always did. Not even five minutes in, your classroom phone rings right as you hit print for the instructions you wrote up for the boys.

“Y/L/N’s room,” you answer, the school’s secretary telling you that the guys were in the office waiting for you. “Oh, wow, ok, I’ll be right down.” You hang up, throwing your hair into a bun, and grab your mug of cereal. “I’m getting the guys, do you want to come with me or wait here until we come back?”

Javier comes with you, both of you practically running through the halls out of panic that your students would bombard whoever Nolan brought with him. You were munching away at the cereal as you open the door to the main office, seeing Nolan and two of the other guys in their Flyers jerseys, all of them looking awkward with their hands in their pockets, unsure of what else to do. “Hey, guys!” you greet them, Nolan the first to turn around. Fuck him for looking good and making your heart skip a beat. It’s not fair, is it? “Uh, this is Javier, one of the other chem teachers,” you introduce him once you collect yourself, trying not to focus all your attention on Nolan.

This was at most a crush. Just a crush on the boy who lived next door to you. Who was also hot and sweet. Just a crush that you shouldn’t even be thinking about at school to begin with, so who cares? Having a crush on a boy does not mean that you loved him or that you loved Keelan any less. Oskar and Travis introduce themselves to you and Javier, the five of you walking back to your classroom while you continue to eat the cereal, suddenly very conscious of how weird it looked.

“No Kev?” you ask Nolan, the two of you lagging behind the other three guys while they talk.

Nolan shrugs, feeling nervous to even be with you in the school hallway. Every single thing he’s thought about you in the last how many days started flooding back to him, something was telling him that besides the fact that he shouldn’t be thinking them at all, he shouldn’t be thinking of them in your school. “He said he didn’t sleep well last night so he was going to stay at our place.”

“Hey, Y/N, what are we doing today?” Oskar asks, pulling your attention away from Nolan once you get back to your classroom.

“The kids are going to be designing a lab where they have to use the ideas of limiting and excess reactant to get the desired product.”

“What does that mean?” Travis asks, Javier sitting back and watching everything happen.

“So you’re not always going to have a perfect ratio of chemicals, nor are all reactions going to go to completion where everything reacts with everything,” you start to explain. “Think of it this way: you guys have your roster of however many players, yeah? You need three forwards, and two bluelines out on the ice in a normal five-on-five. Say every line is locked in; it can’t be changed, you can’t move people around, you can’t have people playing with different players outside of their line, it’s always the same five people. If you have nine forwards and 8 defensemen, how many line combinations can you have?”

“Three,” Nolan answers you.

“Why?”

“Because you have enough defense for four lines, but only three lines when you’re looking at forwards.”

“Right,” you say, not noticing the looks that Oskar and Travis were giving Nolan, “so your forwards in this case, are going to be like your limiting reactant, your blueliners are your excess because you would have two of them leftover.”

“And what are the kids going to do?” Oskar asks you.

“I’m going to give them a desired product, tell them how much of it they want to make, and they’re going to have to figure out how much of each reactant they’re going to need to make that.”

“And they can do that?” Travis asks.

“Knowing Y/N, they can,” Nolan mumbles, his cheeks turning red.

Before you can respond, the bell rings indicating the end of lunch. “Well, alright then.”

The boys and Javier lean against the back counter, your students coming into your classroom as you tried to down the rest of your cereal that you forgot about while you were talking to the boys. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to eat during the lab given the chemicals, but you definitely had to eat something.

“Ms. Y/L/N, who are they?” Spencer asks.

You hold up your finger for him to wait a minute, some of your students knowing who they are, one of your girls going absolutely feral in the corner opposite from where they were standing. The bell rings for you finally start class, getting your 24 students to quiet down as they wondered what the guys were doing. “We have guests today!” you tell them in your cheeriest teacher voice. You were genuinely excited for them to be there, but now that they actually were in the same room as your students, your nerves were threatening to take over. “From the Philadelphia Flyers, we have Oskar Lindblom, Travis Konecny, and Nolan Patrick to do our lab with us today! And for this period we also have Mr. Emillion, and later Mr. Fitzgerald later, so we’re going to have a lot of adults in our room.”

You start explaining your agenda for the day with your kids, knowing that some of them were focusing on the boys more than they were on you. You get into your lesson anyway, starting with your review questions. “If you have a reactant that remains after the reaction, is that the excess or the limiting reactant?”

“Excess,” Nolan mumbles under his breath as one of your students says the same thing. You ask another question, Nolan answering again, Travis and Oskar looking between him and each other.

“So, since when do you know so much about chemistry?” Travis leans over to Nolan while you’re explaining the directions to your students.

“I don’t. Y/N already explained it to me.”

“Let me rephrase it: since when do you care about chemistry?” Nolan just shrugs, pretending like he didn’t know what Travis was getting on about. “Oh, come on. Kevin told us about you liking her. At least be less obvious about it if you aren’t going to ask her out.”

Nolan takes in a deep breath, “We’re not doing this now.”

The students go off to do their thing, trying to brainstorm the procedure when you go up to the guys. Javier was already walking around and listening to the students chatter about their ideas. “So, you guys can guide them through everything, don’t outright tell them any of the steps they’re supposed to have written down. Follow what Javier and I are doing, I guess,” you tell them, having to force yourself to look at Oskar and Travis instead of just Nolan. They nod and start walking around, clearly confused.

This was going to end very poorly and you knew it. Especially with Anderson coming in. You watch the four guys walk around, the three hockey players clueless as the students try to figure out how they can interact with them. You realize the copies you made for them were still sitting in the printer tray in the other room, running to get them before anyone noticed you were gone. You were so scatter-brained by everything today, adding to the general anxiety you felt going into the lesson.

You start walking around, listening to the students and guiding them as they needed you to, thankful that they were actually getting the procedure they needed without much difficulty. “Alright, it looks like most of you have the procedure down,” you say to your class, walking around and hovering over your student's shoulders. “Make sure that before you start, either Mr. E or myself have to sign off on it, then our guys from the Flyers can help you with the lab. Sound good?”

Your students all agree, calling you and Javier over to read through their procedures so they can start. You were getting more nervous over the threat of the bell ringing soon and knowing that Javier had to go and teach his class, leaving you alone with the boys when Anderson came in to observe, too. You were running around, trying to scan through the procedures to make sure they were right so they could start working after the bell rang.

The bell sounds, your students starting to get chaotic, “Alright guys, you can take a break now or once you get your reaction heating, but not both. It’s up to you but you get five minutes either way.”

Some of your groups leave to go hang out in the hallway while their other friends move to their next class, some of your students get right to work with their lab goggles to start mixing. You were just waiting for Anderson to come in so he could rip you to shreds for whatever he felt like today.

“Hey,” Nolan says, taking you out of your trance. “You’re doing fine.”

“This experiment has to go well with the three of you,” you tell him, watching Oskar and Travis trying to help some of your students. Trying was the keyword there, but the students looked like they were having fun teaching the guys what to do.

“You’re an awesome teacher, it’s going to go well. Look at them. They know exactly what they’re doing and you barely had to tell them. That’s a great teacher,” you hear him say. You give him an unsure look. “Come on, would I lie to you?”

You shrug, a smile on your face. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks as he scoffs when you tell him, “I don’t know.”

“Miss Y/L/N! Nice to see you!” you hear that voice calling you when the bell rings, all of your students filtering back in and getting right to work, knowing that Nolan heard you start mumbling under your breath as soon as Anderson appeared in your doorway.

“Hi, Mr. Fitzgerald,” you say, fake sweetness dripping in your voice when Anderson comes right up to you. “Class, say hi to Mr. Fitz!” you call him the nickname you knew he hated.

He looks around your room, trying to see who you brought. The fake smile he had plastered on his face drops when he sees the three guys. “You know the Flyers?”

You tried your hardest to hide the obvious smile on your own face, seeing the anger build inside him knowing that you had someone more impressive to work with your students. You shrug, “Yeah. Nolan here is my neighbor,” you introduce him, Nolan offering up an awkward wave, “I mean, they aren’t the president of a school in a university, but I think the students are having fun.”

“So what are the students doing?” Anderson asks, his face red with jealousy that you brought the boys.

Nolan walks away, as you start to explain that your students are going to make zinc chloride from an anhydrous copper chloride and solid zinc solution. He had no idea what it meant, but he knew that it was a silver piece of metal with a blue solid that you dissolve in water and it’s supposed to create a milky-looking liquid.

He starts walking through the class, listening to your students as they do the experiment, even though he still had no idea what they were talking about. One of your students was sitting in the corner, watching everything happen around him but not participating. “Hey, bud,” Nolan approaches him. “How’s it going?”

The student just nods, not taking his eyes off his paper while his partner does the rest of the work.

“I’m Nolan,” he says, sitting down next to the child. He watches the other student continue to mix the solution to get it to react. “So you let that sit now, right?”

“Yep.”

You and Anderson stand and watch the students, Anderson saying something about how the experiment was going, but you weren’t listening to him at all. You were making sure your students were doing what they needed to, working on the additional practice problems they had while the solution was sitting, seeing them get out the hot plates and set them up for when they would need them later, interacting with each other.

“Anderson,” you say, cutting him off once you see Nolan in the back corner, “look.”

He follows your gaze to Darren, your student who normally didn’t say a word, talking with Nolan and explaining everything to him. Nolan had a huge smile on his face that mirrored Darren’s and his partner Sydney’s. “I’ve never seen him talk with someone before,” Anderson says, dumbfounded. You knew Darren had been assigned to your class because Anderson wanted to see you work with ‘an unworkable student’ as you had overheard him telling Javier at the end of last school year. Darren was laughing with Nolan and Sydney, doing the work and actually helping his partner more than just doing the work on paper and passing it over to Syd like he normally did.

You both stand there, watching the three of them interact. You had a huge smile on your face, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks when Nolan looks away from the students and smiles at you, Darren holding up the beaker with their pale blue solution in it to show you. You give them a thumbs up, turning to Anderson and boasting, “I think they’re doing well.”

Anderson mumbles something under his breath, probably for the better since you had a feeling it was something about you as a general person.

You scan the room again, watching Travis and Oskar interact with the students, still not really sure what they were doing, but they all had smiles on their faces, so you couldn’t complain. You leave Anderson, walking around the room, making sure your students were doing ok. One of the groups asks you a question about the review worksheet they were doing, leaning against the table to help them. You listen to them talk through the problem, seeing Nolan staring at you out of the corner of your eye. Why couldn’t you focus on your students when he was right there?

You look up at the clock when you finish with that group of students. “Alright, y’all,” you get their attention, “Eyes on me for a minute. We have ten more minutes before the bell rings, which means we need to be cleaned up by then so you guys can get to your next class. You can leave the mixtures on the hot plates if they aren’t done heating and I will watch them. What I want one person to do right now is get a paper town and write you and your partner’s names on it and put it on the back counter for them to cool and we can mass them tomorrow, ok?” Your students agree and start scurrying around the room to do what you told them.

You move out of the way, going back to Anderson. “I’m impressed,” he says, a hint of genuine shock in his voice.

“Oh, really?”

Before he can answer, you hear something drop, the distinct sound of glass shattering on the floor. “No one move!” you say, all of your students halting as you try to figure out who dropped what.

Your student Nina waves you over as you rush to get your dustpan and brush, Anderson rushing over to help you clean up. “Are you alright?” you ask her.

“I cut my hand a little,” she lets out, showing you the scratch on her finger.

Anderson cleans up the glass, the rest of your students careful not to break anything else. You knew something had to go wrong. The day was going to perfect for something to not ruin it. “Let’s clean you up.” You help Nina wash her hand, making sure none of the chemicals got on her as you search for a bandage. “Was that the beaker with the zinc chloride?” She nods, you see a tear threatening to roll down her cheeks, knowing that she just ruined the product they had spent the entire period making and heating. Nolan watches you comfort her, feeling his heart flutter at the sight of you bandaging up your student. He pictured himself coming home after a game he got a fight in, you being there and helping him clean up a little more.

“Dude,” Travis whispers, scaring Nolan out of his fantasy. “You’re drooling.”

He waves him off while he watches you comfort your student who had started crying. “Hey, Neen,” you coo, a smile on your face, “It’s ok. Accidents happen. Remember I told you I was a lab assistant when I was in college? I can’t even count how many things I broke during one semester, let alone the entire time I was in the lab. We worked on the motto: if you break things that means you’re working hard. The harder you work, the more you break.”

“But we have to redo it,” she lets out.

You give her a nod, scrunching your face up. “Yeah. But if you get it started I can watch it heat. Do you have a class next period?” She nods. “Alright, hey Spencer?” you call over Nina’s partner, “Come here for a sec? Do you have a class next period?”

“Yeah. But I have a free period first period tomorrow. I can come in then.”

“Ok, here’s what we’re going to do,” you start, “Tomorrow, Spencer is going to come start the experiment, then Nina, do you have a free period at all?”

“Second period.”

“Perfect! Spencer will get it started, Nina will finish it, and if it’s not completely dry by class, I’ll give you an extra day to do the calculations. Sound good?”

They both nod, the bell ringing as you tell your students goodbye. That had to be the most stressful double period of your life, thanks to all the men who had to be in your room with you, the fourth of them now standing there staring at you.

“Not bad, Y/L/N,” Anderson says. “Only one thing broke. That’s gotta be a new record for you.”

He leaves before you could protest, your mouth hanging open even though you weren’t sure how you could even rebuttal his statement. You look at the three guys, Nolan looking significantly more upset than he probably needed to be. “That’s the first time something’s broken in three months.”

“He really is an ass,” Nolan says, grabbing a seat at one of the tables.

“I told you.”

“So, uh,” Travis starts, looking between you and Nolan. “Do you have another class or anything?”

“Nope. I have my last period free, but I have to go to the library in case any chem students need tutoring. You guys are free to go. I really can’t thank you guys enough. I’m not sure what I could ever do to make it up to you, but anything. This was huge,” you gush, really meaning it. The students loved it, and other than the one beaker breaking and Nina’s slight break down as a result, it went really well. You had done the lab in the past where the students had to redo the lab three times before it even worked, this time, you only saw one group redo it one time.

“Yeah, Nolan can probably think of something,” you thought you heard Oskar mumble, Nolan glaring at him. “We should get going, then.”

“Actually, Y/N, do you mind if I get a ride home with you?” Nolan asks as you gather your things to head down to the library. “You know, so they don’t have to go out of their way to drive me home?”

Travis’s mouth hangs open, a stupid grin on his face as he nudges Oskar, both of them looking at you as you’re clearly caught off guard. “Uh, yeah sure, we just have to go to the library, like I said. Are you sure you want to stay? I won’t leave for another hour and a half.”

“Yeah, I do,” he tells you, his cheeks bright red.

“Ok, um, you guys go back to the main office and sign out, I’ll just call down and tell them you’re staying?”

Travis and Oskar leave after bickering over something with Nolan that was out of earshot for you. Why would he want to stay? He had mentioned that Travis didn’t live that far away, so the ‘going out of their way’ argument seemed invalid.

You shake it off, leading Nolan down to the library. “You did a great job with Darren, by the way.”

He shrugs, taking the seat across from you at the empty table you found. Students were walking around, you hopeful that none of them would need help from you. “He’s a good kid.”

“I’m so excited to tell his mom about today,” you say, typing away on your computer. You look up, reading Nolan’s confused expression. “Getting Darren to talk in the class has yet to be successful for me. His mom asked me at the beginning of the year to tell her whenever he has a good day. I’ve never seen him talk that much and genuinely enjoy it.”

“Do you email all the parents when their kids have a good day?”

You shake your head, “I try to. High school kids, because they’re teenagers, don’t always get the praise and excitement from adult figures in their lives because they’re in that period of ‘you’re still a child and are treated as such but are expected to act like an adult.’. Even if it’s something small like they were participating a lot more than normal like in Darren’s case. It makes them more motivated and willing to learn if they know you recognize when they do something good.”

“Really?”

You force yourself not to make eye contact with him, knowing that you would see him blushing as he always was and that would, in turn, make you do the same. “Come on,” you say, pretending to watch out for kids who could be coming for tutoring, “don’t you remember when you were in school getting excited over the simple act of a sticker on a test you got a good grade on? I remember my senior year we were sitting in our world language class and everyone got an A on the test our teacher gave, and we all started begging for stickers because she had given them the last three years we had her. She was so annoyed with us, but every test after that, no matter what grade we got, a sticker was always on the test. It’s little, but it’s fun.”

“Teaching is a lot more than I thought it was,” you hear him say. Honestly, he wasn’t really paying attention to the words coming out of your mouth; he just loved that you were talking about something you so clearly loved.

You laugh, “Yeah. It can be a lot. You haven’t seen my college prep classes. Honors is a little easier because the students are slightly more independent in terms of their work, but my CP kids just have more needs for them to learn the same material.”

“What?”

“It’s the ‘lower level, but the difference is it just takes longer for those kids to learn the same information. So what we did today, I’ll probably do in a month or so with CP, and I would give them the procedure, either straight up or have them fill in the blanks depending on the child and the group.”

“Depending on their group?”

“Yeah. Each lesson has to meet the needs of every child, which means modifying and accommodating it based on if they have an IEP, a 504, which falls under special education plans, or if their parents request it or the student themself requests it but it’s not written. Like, I wouldn't interact with you the same way I would interact with Fran, or Maddy, or Keelan," or elaborate, swallowing hard at the mention of your boyfriend's name. " You interact with people based on how you need to interact with them and what their needs are. Kids aren’t one size fits all, so why should their education be?”

You kept talking but he stopped listening, hating himself for the realization that he came to while you talked about teaching, a soft smile covering your face while you continue to look around for students instead of looking at him: whatever feelings he had for you were more than just a crush, Kevin and Travis sadly being correct. He wasn’t in love with you, but he wanted, needed to be more than just your friend.

But you were still with Keelan.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the day, you and Nolan going back to your classroom until you were contractually allowed to leave. “So what are you doing tonight?” Nolan asks you. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he didn’t want his day with you to end once you pulled into the parking space outside your apartments.

You shrug, looking around your desk for the tests that you had given your CP kids that morning. “Grading these,” you tell him, holding them up before stuffing them into your bag. He opens his mouth, about to say something when you get cut off by the sound of your phone. “Oh, it’s Keelan!” you squeal, Nolan’s entire body deflating at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. “Hey, you’re on speaker, I’m here with Nolan.”

He lets out a sigh before giving you a monotonous, “Hey, guys.”

“What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks you, Nolan’s heart dropping, knowing where this was going.

“I was just telling Nolan that I was going to grade the tests for my CP kids, why?”

“Can that wait until tomorrow, do you think?”

Running through your schedule in your head, you tell him, “Yeah, they’re not expecting them back for a week anyway.”

“Let’s go out tonight.”

Nolan could feel himself getting sick listening to this conversation, for no other reason than he wanted to be the one with you tonight. But he knew he couldn’t as he watched the smile on your face grow. “Where?”

“I want to take you somewhere nice, you know, treat my girl how she deserves to be treated. We haven’t had a date night in a while and I miss you.”

“What time do you want to go?” you ask him, your heart racing. It wasn’t racing in excitement to be with Keelan, but because you were suddenly incredibly aware of Nolan being right there as you were being asked out by the guy you were sure you loved.

“I’ll pick you up at five?”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hesitate, looking at Nolan who was no longer making eye contact with you. “Love you, too, Keel,” you force yourself to get out. You hang up, looking at the clock to see that it was thankfully time for the two of you to leave and go home, giving you around an hour to get ready by the time you got home and got as much ready as you could for school tomorrow. “We’re free to leave now, if you want,” you offer him, packing up your bag for the day.

He just nods, waiting for you at the door as you walk out to the car, driving home in silence, only a mumble goodbye as the two of you get out of your car and go inside.

Five pm rolls around, Keelan getting out of his car to greet you as you go running up to him. Nolan watches you from his window, knowing he was being a creep, but he couldn’t help it. You looked perfect in the dress and heels you had on, your hair and makeup done to make you look more beautiful than he had ever seen. He watched you run into Keelan’s arms, Keelan lifting you off the group as the two of you kissed, Nolan green with envy as he watched him get the door for you for the two of you to drive off to the night he wished he was experiencing with you.

[qianoir]

IT3D 2 - Galaga vs. ET

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college students!WayV x Chinese fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, college au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ (Do not interact if you are under 18)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy cursing (censored), mentions of sex, nudity, love octogon, foreign humor, overbearing parents

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @eggbutnotyolk @d1nne @fanficbitchwhowriteskpop @staysstrays

Preview < 1 < 2 < 3

Your stomach started to churn during the lesson so you pulled out a handful of white rabbit candy from the front pocket of your bag. There was more candy than school supplies in your bag so you generously handed a few each to Xiaojun and Kun, whose empty tummies thanked you greatly. The professor soon closed the lecture and the three of you headed out together.

"I don't suppose either of you guys have dance next?" You ask the two boys with a slight laugh.

Both shook their heads. Kun pulled out his schedule, "I have biology." Xiaojun was searching for something or someone behind you as he spoke, "My next class isn't until 2. I'm gonna go try to find one of my other friends. I'll see you guys later?" Kun and you farewelled Xiaojun’s take off.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the dance studio." Kun offered his arm, which you accepted. "You know where dance class is, but you aren't in it?" Kun shook his head, "One of my friends takes dance, as well. He got so lost this morning, I had to help him find the hall."

"Wow I wish I had a friend like you four hours ago.." You told him, remembering Xuejiao and her useless a.ss. Kun smiled, "He should still be in there. He has like 3 dance classes mixed in his schedule." You took note of this and unlinked your arm from Kun's as he delivered you to the dance hall. "Thank you for walking me."

"No problem. I'll catch you around. Good luck!" Kun waved good-bye as you walked into the studio. Immediately, you were hit with shocking sound waves and saw a few very skilled dancers performing some contemporary urban routine. You walked along the far wall to the back corner of the room to put your stuff down then unpacked your dance clothes and walked into the dressing rooms.

Dressing rooms in China are usually very strictly organized to separate genders. The room you walked into did not clearly decipher what gender it was made for, so you could only hope you chose the correct one. You turned a corner housing unoccupied lockers and.. a man fully clothed in ballet attire.. thankfully. The beautiful Asian man looked up from fixing his tights.

"I'm so sorry I thought this was the women's dressing room!" You stuttered, blushing in uncomfy embarrassment.

The man chuckled at you and stood up straight. "You're fine. Everything on this campus is co-ed." He said with a small eye roll. "Oh.. that's a little.. discomforting.." You said, dragging your eyes to the floor to avoid staring at the beautiful man's beautiful body.

He pointed to your dance clothes. "You're taking ballet?" You nodded. "So am I. The class is about to start.. you should get ready quickly." He walked past you, out into the studio.

The strange encounter gave you chills. You wondered if he was the friend Kun mentioned. After all, he was the fourth Asian guy you had seen today. Am I just like a magnet for cute Asian boys?

Taking his advice, you quickly got dressed and slipped out into the dance room where the instructor was already giving his new term speech. You tried to attract as little attention as possible as you walked to sit in an empty space on the floor, which was a little further ahead from the boy you previously met.

"So enough about myself, let's go around the room and have each of you introduce yourself and tell us about your dance background. Starting with blondie over there." The instructor points to a pretty girl with dyed blonde hair.

"Hi, I'm Hyo Yeon Kim, I'm from Incheon, South Korea and I have been dancing mainly hip hop since I was seven years old."

The class claps and this continues for every student. Then it's his turn. He sits up straight and waves around the room as he introduces himself.

"Hi, I'm Sicheng Dong. I'm from Wenzhou, China and I have specialized in traditional Chinese dance since I was 10 years old."

So Sicheng is his name..

Suddenly, the studio door bursts open with a petite Asian boy panting like he just ran the Great Wall.

"S.. sorry.. I'm late.. I slept through the alarms.. I never set." The boy fixes his dance clothes which were thrown carelessly over his body.

"That's ok, son. Come in and introduce yourself and tell us about your dance history." The instructor motions for him to join the group. The boy suddenly has so much energy and brightly greets us, waving his hand high in the air.

"Hi everyone!! My name is Chittaphon “Ten" Leechaiyapornkul! I'm from Bangkok, Thailand and I have been dancing since the womb!!" Everyone laughs at his personality, except Sicheng, who just rolls his eyes, but still smiles at the bubbly boy. Ten takes a seat on the floor next to Sicheng who offers him a hi-five. I guess all the Asians keep it tight here, huh?

"We're almost done, you there, go ahead." The instructor points to you and you straighten your spine before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I'm from Hong Kong and I have been dancing contemporary ballet since I was eight years old."

"Very good, Y/N. I think you will fit in nicely with our ballet class." The instructor nods at you before addressing the whole class, "Right, so we will continue to get into actual dancing in the next class. Thank you all for showing up, even if not on time." Everyone turns to Ten who just smiles cheekily in return. "Class dismissed."

You pick yourself up from the floor and decide to wait until everyone has changed to change yourself, since the idea of co-ed dressing rooms still doesn't sit well in your mind. While you wait in the corner, Ten and Sicheng walk towards you.

“Y/N, right?" Ten asks. "Yes, that's me." You smile. "We should hang out sometime! We have a whole clique of native Chinese friends you could be a part of."

"Actually I think I may have already met some of them. Do you know Dejun Xiao and Kun Qian?"

Ten nods enthusiastically. "Wow small world! I'll add you to a group chat with all of us. Give me your phone!" Ten takes your phone from your hands and starts typing your number on his own. The device is suddenly buzzing with new message notifications as it is returned to your hands.

"I can't be late to my next class- we can meet up later! See you, Y/N!!” Ten rushes out of the studio, leaving you and Sicheng alone in the corner.

"Sorry if he scared you. He can be a bit hyper." Sicheng says with a small grin. You wave him off, "It's fine. You should go change now."

"Are you waiting for me to change so you can be alone in the dressing room?" You stay silent. "If you've been taking dance classes since you were eight, you should learn that going out of your comfort zone is essential." Sicheng teases, but offers another option, "There is a better place to change if you're that uncomfortable with it, come on."

Sicheng leads you into the dressing room where you are met with various colors of boobs and a.ss cracks. You just look up and let Sicheng guide the rest of the way. You hear him giggle at your flushed face. You arrive at a spatial closet that is filled with hi-tech film equipment. "This is one of the theatre storage closets. Xiaojun and I hang out here a lot."

Sicheng looks around the room while you stand there, bag in hand and ready to change. His eyes land on you awaiting awkwardly in front of him and he realizes, "Oh sorry! I'll leave you to change." Sicheng apologizes and rushes out of the closet. You laugh at the quirkiness of the cute boy and start getting dressed up again.

Walking out of the storage closet, you see Sicheng waiting in the empty dressing room. He holds up your schedule as he notices you coming out. "You dropped this and I couldn't help but see you're free for a couple of hours. I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me and the rest of the guys in the group chat Ten added you to? My treat." He says, handing back your schedule.

You stuff the paper back into your bag, "I would love to."

"Awesome. Let's go."

The two of you walked around the campus and met up with five other Asian guys by the sculpted fountains, three of them being Xiaojun, Kun, and Ten. Xiaojun and Kun noticed you immediately. "Hey nice to see you again. I see you've met Winwin and Ten." You look at Xiaojun confused. "Winwin?"

"That's my nickname." Sicheng blushes. "You can call me 'Win.' It sounds manlier." He puffs his chest a little.

“Y/N, this is Lucas and Hendery. Hendery is from Macau and Lucas is from Hong Kong, like you!" Kun introduced you and Lucas gave you a hi-five, "Waaah what's up, little Hong Konger!?" You laugh as his hi-five pulls you into a bro-hug, where your face painfully smacks into his hard chest. "It's been a while since I've met someone from my hometown. What are you doing in America?" Lucas asked you.

"My parents wanted me to attend an Ivy League to become the best doctor in Hong Kong, so here I am with painful irony." You answered. "Cool, cool. I'm studying animal biology. I love animals, especially puppies."

"You are a puppy!" Ten calls out and everyone agrees. "We actually have a dog and two cats hidden in our dorm, but don't tell the DA." Lucas puts a finger to his lips.

"GUYS LOOK WHAT I JUST SCORED! THEY'RE GIVING OUT FREE CONDOMS!!"

The annoying, orange-haired, Taiwanese kid from your chem class ran to all of you with like 20 unopened condoms in his hands. All of the guys facepalmed and you just rolled your eyes at more of his immature behavior. Yangyang’s eyes fell on you and hid all of the condoms behind his back as he screeched, "What the hell guys!? Why did you invite a chick to hang out with us?? We can't have a girl knowing our manly secrets!"

"B!tch, you and I both know those aren't going to fit your 5’8” a.ss." You motioned to the golden X-tra large rubbers hiding behind his back. The guys except Yangyang laughed when his face started turning red, proving the accuracy of your assumptions.

"You two know each other?" Asked Xiaojun. "We have a.. history." Yangyang narrowed his eyes at you, stuffing the condoms into his backpack without breaking visual contact. "Get over yourself. We only met this morning." You scoffed. The young boy stuck his tongue out at me like he had done once before.

"Let's go eat. I'm starving." Hendery groans.

The group walks to the dining hall where different restaurants are catered to the students and staff. It was decided to eat at a Hawaiian rooftop grill. You sat near the edge with a great view of Manhattan. Winwin sat on your right with Lucas and Kun next to him. Xiaojun sat across from you with Hendery and Yangyang on his side, and Ten at the front of the long table. You looked over the menu placed in your hands.

"Get whatever you want, ok?" Win told you and you complied with thanks. The guys ordered a bunch of food for the table as well as for themselves; you ordered a simple ahi tuna poke bowl.

Upon the food’s arrival, Kun starts a conversation. "How is everyone's first day going?"

"My professor hit my wrist with a ruler because I said Galaga sucked." Yangyang answered. "You had it coming. You think ET: The Video Game should have made a comeback." Xiaojun attacked.

"None of you fools gave ET a chance." Yangyang crossed his arms and looked away.

"My calc professor ate an egg and bacon biscuit from Tim Hortons, then fell asleep." Win said as he stuffed his cheeks with macaroni salad.

"Did he ever wake up?" You wheezed and asked him.

"No."

"Hendery what's on your neck?"

"He got that good-good on the first day- my man!" Yangyang said with his cheeks full.

"Some kid in my aerophysics class launched a bottle rocket into my neck. It really hurts." Hendery replied, rubbing the sore area.

"D.amn."

...

"This dude in my psych class kinda packing no homo." Everyone groaned at Xiaojun’s comment, Ten just smiled and beamed him up.

Everyone finished eating and you offered to pay for yourself, but Winwin wouldn't allow it. You all walked back to the fountains you had met up. Yangyang, Hendery, and Kun left for their next class together. "What do you have next?" Win asked you. "I have biology." You replied.

"Oh you're with us!" You looked over at Lucas and Ten. Turning back to Winwin, "I'll see you later. Maybe we could have a movie night sometime this week, just you and me?" He proposed. "Sure. That sounds fun. Also thank you for buying me lunch, it was yummy." Win smiled at you. "No problem. I'll text you tonight." You nodded and parted ways with the lovely boy who walked with Xiaojun- the other lovely boy.

You walked off with the three Chinese boys, not looking forward to biology, but glad to spend the hour with your cool new friends.

To be continued…

*DA = dorm advisor

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Girl’s Choice

Draco X Reader (highschool!AU)

Summary: Everything was absolutely fine in his small town, until you stumbled in and began to defy the status quo.

A/n: So, guess who got Midnight Sun and has been reading it non-stop for the past few days? Me. It was me. So, please enjoy this Twilight Parody of our favorite characters. Also I get to move back to college in like a week and I am EXCITED--mainly because there’s a good chance that I get a room to myself bc of the virus. So yay me. I love you guys a lot and really thank you for your patience and enthusiasm. It makes me smile. 

“So, Gin asked me to the dance this morning,” Harry was chatting you up—a normal occurrence before class started.

Draco didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. He really didn’t, but he was intrigued about how this would go down. Since moving to the small town, you had been a buzz among the boys in the grade level. Draco could all but assume that most of the fantasized about you asking them to the girl’s choice dance coming up.

“That’s great!” You genuinely smiled. “You’ll have a lot of fun!”

Harry fumbled, losing his casual composure. You noted on it, and your look became more skeptical and judgmental—something Pansy would approve of.

“Well, I told her I’d think about it,”

This surprised Draco as much as it seemed to surprise you. It was no secret that star lacrosse player Weasley and Potter were all but official and had been for almost all of high school.

“Why in the world would you tell her that?” Your words mimicked his thoughts.

“Well... I thought maybe you’d... want to ask me?” He ran a hand through his usually untidy mass of curls.

Draco could not make this up if he wanted to. He barely suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape his lips. How in hell had Harry figured that you’d want to go to the dance with him? You’d been here maybe a month. As far as Draco knew, you weren’t interested in anyone. Perhaps the small town didn’t have enough shine for your city lights.

“You should tell Ginny yes, Harry,” You scolded him like a child. “It’s rude to make a girl wait,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sulked, his face falling as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

Draco couldn’t wipe the amused smirk from his face. You huffed annoyed and opened your notes, already prepping a new page for today’s lesson. You didn’t pay him any mind during class—a normality between the pair of you. Draco ignored you and you returned the favor. It was almost easier this way for him. Your shiny new toy status had no effect on him. He had every shiny toy he ever wanted. You had no appeal to him.

Harry, however, Draco stole glances over from time to time. The green-eyed jock pouted throughout the entire lesson, stealing glances over to you. You hardly noticed. Instead you were doodling in your notebook, waiting for the teacher to move on.

Maybe the stars aligned, or maybe you did fascinate him, but Draco found himself in the lunch line next to you the following day as another tried to ask you to the girls choice ball.

“So, I heard you turned down Potter,” Cedric gave off-hand. “Waiting to ask someone else then?”

Draco snorted, and this time you did give him the slightest glare before turning back to Cedric.

“I’m not going,” You answered curtly, grabbing fruit from the stand. “And no, I don’t plan on asking anyone.”

“Why aren’t you going?” Cedric almost pouted.

“There doesn’t have to be a reason.” You snapped. “I’m not going,”

Draco could only imagine the glare that you gave Cedric for him to back off so quickly. Again, a smile quirked at his lips. You might be the shiny new toy, but you weren’t going to be used like a porcelain doll.

“So, has she asked anyone yet?” Pansy asked as he sat beside her at their usual lunch table.

“She’s not going, and you totally missed her going off on Diggory,” Draco grinned. “That girl has to have a glare that rivals yours,”

“She turns down Potter and Diggory... do you think maybe she’s into chicks?” Pansy asked almost hopeful.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides, she’s not going to the dance so go ask Greengrass before it’s too late,”

Pansy sulked and stabbed her salad with a bit more vigor than before.

You stormed into the chemistry classroom a bit more irritated than he had seen you in the cafeteria. He wanted to guess that another guy had tried to ask you to the girl’s choice dance because honestly it amused him to see you so upset. It was cute how riled up you could get from some unwanted attention. He wondered how far you’d have to be pushed before you actually started swinging. Maybe he wanted to find out.

“So,” He asked pointedly. “Anyone else try to ask you to the dance?” 

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” You hissed making him grin wider.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“If you even start to finish that, I won’t be so forgiving,” Your hand clenched into a fist and Draco thought that maybe you’d actually try to hit him, but Snape walked in as the bell rang, taking any chance away from you.

Draco sat back smugly in his chair—to your great annoyance—as class droned on. At the end of the hour Draco followed you out, calling your name. You froze in the hallway, before turning to face him.

“I’m really not in the mood right now Draco,” Your strained voice gave a hint of weariness. “What is even with you guys? Can’t you just leave a girl alone? I’m not going to the stupid dance and I’m not just saying that so I can ask someone else,”

Before Draco could get a word in you stalked away, disappearing in the crowd. And he stood there, dumbfounded. Was he not amused an hour ago about your annoyance? Did it not make him smile that you were tortured by your suitors? Why all of a sudden was he frowning and loathing Potter and Diggory—and whatever poor bloke had the unfortunate courage to ask you before class—even more for winding you up?

“It was Krum,” Pansy didn’t even say hello as she sat next to him in Spanish. “He was the one who tried to ask her,”

“She said no to Krum?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “You might be right, she really might swing the other way,”

“Aw, but I already asked Daphne,” Pansy pouted.

“Pans, darling, I think if anyone else breathes near her about the dance she’s gonna send someone to the nurse,” Draco chuckled. “So maybe you dodged a bullet there,”

She sighed wistfully. “Still, it’s nice to dream,”

____________________________________

“So, did you ask anyone to the dance yet?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I huffed, kicking off my shoes. “I’m not going to that stupid dance,”

“Well, I know it’s probably not as glitzy as your uptown shindigs, but you should still go and have fun,” My dad set down his paper. “Make some friends while you’re here,” His tone was hopeful, as I knew it would be.

He wanted me to be happy here. He wanted me to fit in and enjoy my time in the middle of nowhere. It was a farfetched dream. But it was mine, I supposed.

“I have a few friends,” I insisted. “But I’m not one for dances... and the guys in town aren’t exactly... appealing,” I decided.

“Well, not that a father will complain about his daughter not wanting to date, but maybe you should go with a group of friends or something?”

“Everyone’s paired off, dad,” I sighed, looking in the fridge for something to make for dinner.

As I set off to do my chemistry homework, my mind meandered to my chem partner. It was out of character that he spoke to me today. Normally we disregarded another in comfortable silence. It had been that way since I showed up. And though it might have stung a bit in the beginning, I could tell quickly that Draco and his friends were the wrong sort of crowd that I didn’t want to be caught up in. The kind of crowds that I escaped by moving from my city life.

And I liked the crowd I had found; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all very sweet and welcoming on my first day and had sort of adopted me into their group without looking back. Not that there was much depth in any of their lunchroom conversations, but at least I wasn’t alone. Hermione was the only one I could hold a conversation with—she had AP classes as I did and was a saint when I needed homework guidance.

Chemistry, however, was the one subject she couldn’t help me with. She had opted out for AP Environmental instead, claiming she had done her time with Snape and would rather dropout than be in his class another year.

So, it left me begrudgingly texting Draco about tonight’s homework. He was the only other one in class that seemed to keep up easily. Maybe it was because he was a shoe shiner class pet of Snape’s.

Malfoy: Oh, so you’re talking to me now. Don’t want yell at me again?

My cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment at his response. He was never one to hold back what he was thinking—even if it was brutal.

Y/n: I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t fair to you. I’d give a reason, but I doubt you’d care

Malfoy: Pansy already told me that Krum tried to ask you to the dance. That’s what? Three guys now? If I hadn’t stopped her, Pansy wanted to ask you too.

Y/n: At least it would have been a girl asking me to a girl’s choice

Y/n: And you’re short one, Ron asked me too

Malfoy: Weasel? Wow. Never thought he’d have the guts to ask anyone 

Y/n: He’s actually going with Hermione

Y/n: Now will you please help me on 7?

And to my surprise, Draco was quite civil about walking me through the covalent bonding prompts. It made me feel a bit more guilty about snapping at him earlier today.

Seeing how I struggled on the homework, I wasn’t surprised that Harry came over during study hall and asked me for help on the same, if not more, questions. After the first couple, he griped that I was too similar to Hermione for knowing it all. And that it wasn’t fair that it came so easily to me.

“Actually, Draco helped me,” I smiled as I showed my notes to Harry for the next question. “He might help you if you ask,”

That was a long shot. Harry hated Draco and vice versa. It didn’t take me long to figure that one out.

“Malfoy helped you? Like actually helped you?” Harry scoffed. “The little prat,”

“Hey,” I warned snatching my notes away. “If you’re not gonna be nice about it I won’t let you use my notes,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Harry pouted. “You know I was kidding,”

“Yahuh. Sure Harry,”

“Oh, come on,” Harry tried again. “He’s a prat. Always has been,”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore of Harry’s lamenting, and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be in the library,”

Wordlessly I left, fuming slightly. The music from my headphones thawed out my anger towards Harry a bit as I pushed the doors of the library open and sat at a table, pulling out my calculus homework to go over it one last time.

“This seat taken?”

I barely heard the question over my music. My eyes darted up to meet steady grey ones.

“It’s a free country,” I shrugged then remembered that I want particularly irate towards Draco at the moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I murmured, taking out one of my headphones. “For the chem help,”

“I might have had an ulterior motive,” Draco mumbled, pulling out a binder.

“If you think I’m gonna ask you to the dance because you helped me with my homework you have another thing coming Malfoy,” I warned.

“I think every guy in the school has got that by now,” a smile played at his lips. “No, I... I need help in McGonagall,” He was almost sheepish to admit it.

I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but he did seem genuine about needing help.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help, but I can try. My old teacher, Jones had a different way of explaining it...” I trailed off, a pang of remorse about leaving my old school in my chest.

And maybe the way Jones taught me made more sense to Draco because he did eventually start to understand the calculus on the paper beneath us. I realized that Draco was very methodical. He enjoyed having rules that worked every time no matter the question. A failsafe that kept him ahead of the curve.

“Do you miss it?” He asked as we started to pack for the next hour. 

“Miss what?”

“Your old school? It has to be a lot different than this hell hole,” His words were nonchalant but still skeptical.

“It’s not so bad here,” I defended weakly. “But... I miss it, yeah. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again. Back home—back in New York no one questioned me. The teachers trusted me... the staff knew me...” I sighed. “I’m a stranger here.”

The warning bell rang and the same sense of dread that settled upon me reflected in Draco’s eyes: we were halfway across campus and there was little hope of getting to Snape’s class in the two minutes we had left.

Both scrambling, we headed for the doors and tore down the hall. I followed Draco’s path because if I was honest, I still didn’t quite know my way around the school nor the quickest ways to certain buildings.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snap looked down disapprovingly at me. “I hope you have reason for being late or it’s Saturday detention for you,”

My anxiety spiked as I fumbled out an explanation. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stand, ready to come to my defense, but there was no need. Flawlessly Draco directed the attention of the irritated teacher to him with a sly smile and quick lie, that wasn’t really a lie at all.

“It was my fault,” Draco smoothed quickly. “I was having Y/n help me with McGonagall’s homework and I kept her late.”

Snape’s eyes darted between the two of us before he sighed, telling us to get to our seats before he gave out detentions for disrupting his class.

With a breath of relief, I sat beside Draco. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He shrugged and took out his notes and homework just as Snape began to go over it. And we went back to ignoring each other. Except, this time, it deemed impossible for me not to glance at him every so often, or for my eyes not to drift to his notes on the table, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything. The hour seemed to end quicker than normal. As usual, Harry walked to gym with me, chatting about the upcoming game before the dance this weekend.

“So, you and Malfoy?” The comment caught me off guard. “I don’t like it,”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing Harry,” I shrugged. “No need to let your little feud make up wild stories. He just needed help with calc,”

“Sure, the golden boy needed help with his homework,” Harry said flatly. “That’s believable.” 

“And what about it is so farfetched?” I demanded.

“He’s doing it for some reason. He knows you turned me down, maybe he’s trying to get at me by being nice to you,” The offhand comment had my blood boiling.

“Are you serious right now!?” I snapped. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t see past your own ego!?”

Storming off, the only relief from my anger I was allowed happened when I ‘accidentally’ pelted Harry with a ball in the face, sending him to the nurse. When my anger faded, doubt remained. Was Draco only trying to be nice to me to get at Harry? From what I knew of Draco secondhand, I wouldn’t put it past him.

______________________________

Draco was shocked when Snape had called on you for a homework answer, and you admitted that you didn’t know. Didn’t you know that he didn’t mind you texting him about the homework? That helping you wasn’t the worst waste of his time in the world? You had done it before. Not days ago. And yet you allowed yourself to be ridiculed by Snape for your lack of habitual knowledge.

You didn’t notice the small frown that lingered on his face for the remainder of class as you kept your head down and doodled in your notebook. Deciding that he didn’t like your comatose, he did something that deemed childish: he passed you a note.

You ok?

You stared at the paper and looked over at him, biting your lip before scribbling: 

Fine. Pay attention.

Rolling his eyes, he took the paper back and wrote:

I can’t if you’re over here moping.

You took the small piece of paper and crumpled it in your hands, shoving it into your bag. Draco decided to leave you alone for the rest of the hour his curiosity still burning through him. A quick meeting of Harry’s livid stare, and Draco had a better idea of what was going on. He just hoped, for perhaps the first time ever, that he was wrong.

“Oi, what the hell did you say to Y/n?” Draco demanded, singling Potter out in the hall the next morning.

His curiosity and suspicions had festered over the night. Draco had made the conscious decision to text you, asking if you needed help with chem, and your lack of response had him worrying again.

“What are you going on about Malfoy?” Ron crossed his arms, coming to Harry’s defense.

“Stay out of this weasel,” Draco hissed, noticing the crowd that began to gather around the small confrontation. Most of his attention, however stayed focused on cold green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy,” Harry tipped his chin back. “What? Is she not bowing down at your feet like you’re used too?” A laugh barked out of him and Weasley and a few other onlookers.

“At least she’s got enough self-respect to not be on her knees for you,” Draco heard the familiar condescending voice of Pansy beside him. A grin curled onto his face at her words.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that it seemed, and it further proved Draco’s suspicions. 

“So, you did say something to her,” He accused. “She got her not a month ago and you’re already dragging her into our mutual hatred?” Draco wouldn’t stoop that low. It was pathetic. 

“Well if you hadn’t gone and pretended to need help with McGonagall’s work, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Harry gritted, as if he had the high ground.

“As opposed to you who pretends he doesn’t need help them blames others when he fails?” Draco snapped.

There was quite a large crowd gathering around now, and he and Harry were less than a foot apart. Both boys were on the verge of snapping.

“Draco?”

Your voice was enough to distract him that he didn’t see Harry throw the first punch. Pain blistered across his jaw as fury burned in his eyes. Now the kids around them were chanting and egging on the fight. But Draco never had the chance to swing back.

Because you had drove yourself into the cleared circle and delivered a few punches of your own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You shouted at him kneeing him in the groin leaving him keeled over, groaning. “I told you to back the fuck off!”

Draco wasn’t as surprised at the comment as he was about the knowledge that you knew how to beat the pulp out of a star football player without a whim. You never seemed like the athletic type but the blood pouring from Harry’s nose begged that you were slightly more dangerous than Draco had originally thought.

“Are you okay?” Your wild worried eyes were trained on him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, but the hurt that flickered across your face made him regret them.

He wished he had time to explain exactly why you shouldn’t have done that, but McGonagall and Snape were already upon the scene and threatening detentions. He and Harry, of course, were called out as the other students scattered.

“McGonagall, please,” You stood loyally beside him, despite his harsh words. “Draco didn’t have a hand in this, I did.”

Both teachers raised their eyebrows in surprise. Draco just gaped at you. Harry was glaring and still bleeding.

“I see. All three of you go to Dumbledore’s office.” She said, her careful eyes not leaving yours.

Harry strode off first, perhaps feeling smug in the fact that either way, you or Draco would be in trouble for this encounter. Draco wondered if you knew you had just bought yourself three days suspension for fighting.

You were silent beside him as you flexed your hand. He pondered if you had hurt it in your fervor. He almost asked you. Then he remembered the hurt on your face at his last words and decided against it. You wouldn’t want to talk to him.

“So,” Dumbledore said pointedly. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish today in the hall,” An amused smile sat upon the principal’s face, no doubt taking in Harry’s state. Draco wondered if his skin was bruising yet.

“It was me,” Draco said not realizing what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t you even,” You were scathing at him, your hands clenched again, pain flitting across your face—you definitely hurt your hand then. You turned to Dumbledore. “Harry swung at Draco and I stepped in. I’m the one who did it.”

“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow.

Harry seemed like he was debating whether or not he wanted to admit getting beat up by a girl. The thought made Draco smile, causing his jaw to hurt. He tried to flex it but halted when pain blossomed again.

“That’s what happened,” Harry admitted under his breath.

“And why, Mr. Malfoy, did Potter swing at you?” Dumbledore turned to him, an amused smile lingering on his face.

“I thought that Harry had said something to her that hurt her. She... wasn’t keeping up on homework and it was unlike her. After she turned Harry’s proposal to the dance down, I thought...”

“You turned down Mr. Potter’s proposal to the girl’s choice dance?” The principal turned back to you.

“His, Weasley’s, Cedric’s, Viktor’s,” You muttered, much to Dumbledore’s delight as the older man began to chuckle.

“Had quite a welcome here, haven’t you?”

“You could say that again,” Folding your arms, your face became solemn. 

“And do you have a reason for your actions?”

“I don’t like bullies, no matter where they come from,” Confidence founded your voice as you squared your shoulder. Never once had Draco ever heard someone call Harry a bully. The words had always been reversed. Everyone in the school saw the reputation in Draco, never Harry.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d have to suspend you and Mr. Potter here, but instead, I’m suspending you from being allowed to the dance this weekend. All three of you,”

“But sir!” Harry argued.

“Not another word Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore rose from his office chair. “My decision is final.”

Three ‘yes sir’s were mumbled as the three of you filed out of the office. You began to walk away, towards your next class Draco assumed, but he caught your non-injured hand, Harry slinking away himself.

“Let me go,” You shrugged him off.

“Wait,” Draco caught up to you, blocking you in the narrow hall of the office. “Look, about what I said,”

“Forget it Draco,” You snapped, and he could see unshed tears in your eyes. “Just leave me alone,” You pressed past him with a bit more force than necessary that had him after you again.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He called, and you actually paused, your head turning in interest.

“Then what did you mean?” Your voice with thick. “Cuz all I see is a rich little prat who can’t say thank you. Or a self-centered guy who thinks I need someone to fight my battles for me. A high and mighty guy who thinks he can tell me what to do,” Your words were sharp and snarled. “So please, tell me what you meant.” The challenge dripped dangerously from your scowl.

“I...” Draco fumbled for the right words. “I’m not worth getting suspended for,” Your anger turned to confusion, turned sympathy, turned neutral.

“But I’m worth fighting for,” It was a stubborn and bold declaration. “And I know that,” A pause as you turned to leave. “So yeah, I should have done that,”

___________________________

I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face as I nearly ran to the parking lot, yearning for the safety of my car. Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated yell and slumped in the seat.

The backroads under my tires held a calming solace as I drove the long way home. It was something that New York couldn’t replace: the backroads I had grown up on. With the windows down and the radio blaring, all of my thoughts were tuned out.

At a red light, I found the courage to call my father and explain what happened. He said I was grounded this weekend for fighting, but I didn’t mind much. It got me out of having to go to the dance, even if Dumbledore hadn’t already said I couldn’t. I smiled when my dad told me he was proud for standing up for myself and beating the hell out of Harry.

I found myself smiling as I pulled in at home. Icing my hand and popping some pain killers just in case, I scrolled through my notifications, only answering Hermione. I didn’t care what the school gossiped about or what rumors started because of the fight. Hermione just wanted to know if I was okay and if I’d want her to send the homework from the classes I missed. I told her yes to both and thanked her.

Another notification popped up.

Draco: are you okay? how’s your hand?

I stared at the notification, and instead of deleting the icon like I should have, I opened it and gazed at the words. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. I thought about ignoring it, but he had already seen that I had read it. Cursing modern technology, I responded.

Y/n: fine

Mulling it over, I sent another text.

Y/n: can you send me the chem homework? please

The messages that followed were unexpected. Steady and clear photos of his notes for the day— and week it looked like—as well as the worksheet Snape had given. I felt a pang if gratitude towards Draco in that moment and his words from earlier settled in.

Draco has confronted Harry because he was worried about me. Somehow, he had picked up on how Harry’s words had affected me and driven me into doubt and a few missing homework assignments. Tears sprung back up in my eyes without my consent. It left me regretting the words I had snapped at him earlier. I let him know as much with another text.

Draco: most of it was justified

Draco: I know I’m not the easiest person to know 

Y/n: I was still wrong to say it. I’m sorry

Y/n: and you’re not so bad :)

There wasn’t a response from him for half an hour, so I settled down and began to transcribe his notes into my own notebook, then began to untangle the questions that the worksheet gave me. The crumpled note from a few days ago spilled out of my bag. I took it, unfurling it, running my hand over his words. I tucked it in my chemistry binder, smiling softly at his kindness.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the next day as I drove up to school and parked in my usual spot. I felt torn between two clicks—probably the only two clicks this school had, and I had managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war—the thing that I wanted to escape by moving back in with my dad and I still managed to find myself in the same situations. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the problem.

Shaking the thought, I headed to first hour just as the bell rang in my efforts to avoid confrontation. Other than a few approving comments from my sorta friends, no one seemed put out that I had fought their golden boy. It eased my anxiety as the day went on. I was quelled a bit more when I heard that Harry wasn’t in school today. And maybe I smiled at that a bit.

“The jackass deserved it,” Ginny shrugged, “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have hesitated either,”

She calmed the majority of my fears with her words unknowingly. If there had been one person I didn’t want to cross it was Ginny—she was fierce and took no prisoners. If the school had a queen bee, it would have been Gin.

“Is your hand alright?” Luna asked during art class. “You seem a bit off your game today,” She noticed my failing live portrait.

Luna was always quiet but observant of others, and it drew me towards the peaceful girl. Her calm nature as well as my fierce need to protect her from bullies kept me as her partner despite the seat changes in Trelawney’s art class. The teacher didn’t seem to care as Luna and I were some of her best students although Luna’s whimsical style contrasted my realistic preference heavily.

“It hurts a bit,” I answered truthfully. “But not enough to cry about,” There were yellow and purplish tinges to my knuckles, but nothing was broken.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Luna semi-whispered. “Are you and Draco together?”

“No,” I answered a bit more harshly than I meant and refined my answer. “I was tired of Harry being an egotistical ass and dragging me into it,”

“He’s probably just jealous,” Luna gave offhand, adding some shading to her sketch. “Boys are like that,”

“Jealous? Of what?” I scoffed. “He’s with Ginny, and it’s not like I fancy anyone at this school,”

“Yes, I heard about all the failed proposals to the dance.” A smile touched her lips, “Regardless, from the outside, the only person you’ve shown interest in is Draco, and Harry doesn’t like it,”

“Well, he needs to get over it,” I muttered. “I’m not some prize to be won,”

My annoyance didn’t fade as I slumped into my seat at lunch, grateful that Harry was absent today because I might have just gone off on him again. Stupid teenage boys thinking they have some claim over a girl.

Harry was back the next day, looking worse for wear. I went to apologize, but he didn’t allow me too, saying he deserved it and the he was the one who was sorry. I wondered if Ginny had a hand in his apology. Shrugging, I decided it didn’t matter. At least Harry, and maybe everyone else at the small school, knew that I could handle myself.

The weekend passed, and I didn’t notice much. Hermione sent me a few pictures of the dance. They held no interest to me, but at least they were having fun.

On Monday, it seemed that Draco had gone back to ignoring me. At least that’s how it appeared for about the first half of Snape’s lecture. Then every so often I’d catch him staring at me, or my notes. His eyes would quickly dart down when he realized that I had noticed his gazes. It left me frowning and struggling to focus.

It was Wednesday that Hermione and I talked about the calculus test coming up on Friday. I glanced over to Draco, wondering if he’d need help or a study partner for the exam. I wondered if he’d be too proud to ask. Or if I’d be too stubborn to offer.

“Go over there and ask,” Hermione nudged my arm, picking up on my train of thought.

“I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “Besides, you’d be a better tutor than I am,”

“Yes, but Draco doesn’t like me. You on the other hand,” An amused smile lingered on her face.

“We’re friends,” I insisted. “That’s all,”

“More than it was last week,” She pointed out. “Draco’s always been a stuffy prat, but I see how he is with you. He’s almost... normal.”

My eyes shifted back over to his lunch table, where he was hunched over a book, tuning out the dark-haired girl beside him as she prattled about something adamantly. Something the girl said must have caught Draco’s attention, perhaps she warned him about my gaze, because his eyes met mine. I looked down quickly, my cheeks flushing.

“He’s coming over,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop staring,” I hissed under my breath, breaking my own rule by looking up.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was quiet and guarded, his eyes sliding over my company. 

“What’s up?” I asked casually.

“Alone?”

I looked to Hermione who was saying if I didn’t go, she’d never forgive me with a single look.

“Sure,” I stood, gathering my things and followed him out of the cafeteria and down the halls, to the library. “Did you want help for the calc test Friday?” I asked softly as we sat at the same table as our previous encounter.

“Well, yes,” He chuckled softly. “I... also wanted to talk to you... about last week, and...” His eyes refused to meet mine. I waited in silence for him to continue. “This... this doesn’t have to be anything, and I know you’d probably rather it weren’t... but I’ve never actually...”

I raised my eyebrows, leaning closer to him, the butterflies in my chest growing more restless with each second that passed. They had begun to arrive on the day of the fight, and now it seemed like they were taking flight for the first time.

“You came here a month ago... and in that time have managed to capture every guys heart in this school and then proceeded to turn most of them down. You’ve gotten into fights and out of trouble and you’re really someone I should avoid, but... I don’t want to, not anymore.”

“You think you should avoid me?” The question was soft on my lips. His eyes flashed to mine in brief panic.

“Again, not what you think,” He sighed and scrubbed his face, then proceeded to wince at the pain that no doubt was triggered by his action. “I should avoid you because if I’m being honest, I’m not much better than Harry, and I wouldn’t be someone you’d want to be with. And it would make it easier for the both of us if I avoided you.”

“Cards on the table then?” I mused softly and he nodded, begging my candor. “I know what they say about you. And I have my own opinions, but...” I paused and smiled. “You are the first guy who hasn’t acted like an arrogant jackass to me,” Then mended, “At least in a way that hasn’t made me want to deck you,”

“That’s comforting,” A smile reached his eyes this time.

“And... if it had to be anyone... I’d probably want it to be you,” This surprised him, told by the expression on his face. “In terms of intelligence, I feel semi-confident to say that you wouldn’t drive me mad with your lack of knowledge, because most of the kids at this school are so dull,” I muttered then continued. “You’ve been kind to me, and never pushed me into doing anything I haven’t wanted to do,”

“So, you wanted to beat the shit out of Potter then?” The same smile turned to a grin.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” I chuckled softly. “You gave me a valid excuse, to which I thank you,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? For ya know, being my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue?”

I laughed at his words and shook my head at his antics.

“Does that make you my damsel in distress?” It never occurred to me how easy it might be to talk to Draco, considering we’d barely said a word to each other since my arrival.

“If I must be,” He feigned distaste, the smile not leaving his face long enough to convince me of his façade.

A silence fell between us.

“Is this something then?” His words were riddled with uncertainty.

“It’s not nothing,” I offered. “But I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Would you be willing to see what it is?” Draco’s voice turned hopeful.

“If you’re willing to be patient,” My eyes met his grey ones, storms above the seas held in them. “I don’t really... date. Flings and a list of exes isn’t really on my bucket list ya know?”

“Understandable,” His smile returning. “Not that I prefer them either,”

I sighed softly. “People are gonna talk, if they’re not already,” It was a defeating thought.

“Let them talk,” Draco shrugged, lost in thought. “That’s all they do. No matter where you go,”

“It’s a bit worse in a small town,” I challenged.

“I’ll give you that,” He chuckled. “But things are a bit less scandalous in a small town,”

“Granted,” I thought of New York and how the smallest things morphed into rumors and gossip that took down empires. Here, in the middle of nowhere our problems seemed almost trivial.

“So,” He raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting my verdict.

“So,” I mimicked. “This... this can be something,”

 ______________________________

Draco had never once thought of dating. Ever. Whereas Pansy couldn’t wait to have her next summer love, Draco... he was reserved. Not that he ever held it against Pansy, and of course he was there to curse the name of her exes with her, but him dating? It was laughable.

He could claim that ‘you weren’t like other girls,’ but it’d be a lie. You were just the perfect mix of being like other girls that appealed to him so much. The girls he had passed in the halls for years and never once felt attraction to were now suddenly a bit more interesting. Granger had calculus with you and was very good at the subject, sharing your passion for it. Ginny had the same fire in her eyes as you did when you were angry. Even Lovegood seemed less like a spaz and a bit more down to earth in the few passing moments that he saw her when picking you up from art class.

“I might warn you,” he whispered gently the next day, hand in yours as you headed to the cafeteria. “Pansy has been dying to talk to you... so heads up,”

A laugh fell through your lips as he opened the door for you, the cafeteria, once buzzing solemnly was now almost hushed as eyes turned to the couple at the door.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

Draco tensed at the curt calling of his name but relaxed when you smiled and waved to Ginny.

“Come sit with us,” The redhead offered. “No need in you taking Y/n away from us,”

“Get Pansy,” You smiled, letting his hand go as you went to drop your stuff at the table before heading toward the lunch line.

“Can I talk to her now?” Pansy demanded.

“She’s all yours,” Draco chuckled, trailing behind his dark-haired friend, a smile resting on his face as you entertained all of Pansy’s question with unbelievable grace.

Tensions were high as Draco sat with you at your usual lunch table, Pansy on his other side, but it seemed that you, Ginny, and Hermione had the boys under control, so nothing more than loathsome glares were exchanged before the conversation settled into something pleasant.

It took a couple weeks, but the bruises on your hand and his jaw faded, then soon Harry’s broken nose was healed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. As if it were preposterous that your group ever had animosity against another.

True to your word and his, it wasn’t exactly dating. He dedicated a lot of his effort to figuring out what you were comfortable with and what you weren’t. Something that appealed to both of you was holding hands in the hallways. The gawking faces of those around you seemed to keep a smile on your face. You had tamed the rich prat and he had tamed the spitfire in their eyes. And perhaps he was a bit kinder to those around him. And maybe you weren’t as volatile. Maybe you had finally settled into the small town.

Slowly it seemed, you sifted into the role of a girlfriend—well, whatever the equivalent was for you and him. It took some coaxing and a compromise, but you allowed him to pick you up and drive you to school—three out of five days of the week. He looked forward to those mornings and didn’t mind leaving earlier as long as you were at the end of the road under his tires. You were defiant about him paying for things, mundane things like lunch or random gifts, so he tried to keep it at a minimum, or at least didn’t let on how much he had spent on you.

Draco was never one for physical affection. His parents had been distant and reserved. Closed off. He wasn’t bitter about it, but he was worried that it might affect how he was around you. But it seems that you were a bit standoffish as well. The abrasion faded over time, but it was still never over abundant. You held his hand, that was easy and almost routine for the both of you, and though he hadn’t kissed you yet, displays of make outs in the halls never appealed to any part of him. Ever.

But he wouldn’t forget the first time you kissed him. It was a quiet night at your place after you two had studied for Snape’s final. You declared if you looked at another carbon bond you were going to scream, so you slammed your binder shut and led him to the old sofa and pulled him down, both of you nestled beside another as you flickered through TV stations, settling on something that held half your interest.

His arm draped around your shoulder, a gentle sign of affection that you returned by resting your head on his shoulder, your arm stretching across his stomach, holding him. His hand absentmindedly played in your hair, earning soft sounds of agreement from your lips as he continued. Your exhausted face in the TV light held all of his interest. The way your eyelashes fluttered eleven your eyes changed focus, or the way you worried your lip now and again almost thoughtlessly. Never knowing that it drove him mad.

Draco called your name softly, earning your attention. Your faces were inches apart and he could feel your soft breaths mix with his. Your eyes searched his for something—what exactly he wasn’t sure. But you must have decided that whatever you found was enough, because you leaned up and closed the distance between your lips and his.

He smiled at the moment and the ones that followed. The desire that built in his chest and the gentle pant of need that left your lips, flushing across his as you pulled away.

“Thank you,” You had murmured.

He smiled at you simple gratitude and wondered why you thought it necessary. Did you believe that he didn’t want to kiss you? That you weren’t constantly in his psyche? Imagining how soft and warm your skin must be? Wondering if the rest of you was worked and scarred like your hands from years of use?

Not knowing what you were thinking—or why he was for that matter—he pulled you into his lap as the two of you sat on the couch, cradling you close, letting you know that he craved your affection though he wasn’t the best at portraying the ideal.

You had fallen asleep in his lap that night. When your dad came in to check on the two of you, Draco thought your father would be furious but instead he smiled and suggested that Draco carry you to your room so that you could stretched out on your bed and sleep for the night. Those were the few moments that Draco had ever been in your room. It was one of your fathers rules—which he humbly agreed to. The sight made him smile. It was perfectly you. An organized chaos of all of your favorite things.

You barely noticed him setting you into your bed and pulling the covers over your shoulders after removing you shoes.

He preferred your home over his. It took about two months before you coaxed him into the idea of meeting his parents formally. Draco was terrified, knowing that his parents disapproved just about everyone in the town they lived in, save a few families. He wasn’t sure how they felt about the divorcee and his daughter living on the outskirts of town.

“You understand how much of a bad idea this is?” Draco hissed as he walked you up the front steps of the pristine farmhouse—it was the last attempt he made before it was too late to back out.

“They’re just your parents,” You took his hand, saying the words nonchalantly.

“That’s why I’m worried! They’re my parents!” He dismayed.

“Dray, love, it’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, and he couldn’t argue with the honesty in your eyes.

You’d never stop surprising him. He didn’t think ever. He knew his parents were hard people to entertain. There were thousands of unspoken rules that they forced him to follow and you picked up on them as easily as you knew calculus. Sit one way, speak another, you blended in flawlessly. Your persona differed from the one he knew, but it was still perfectly you.

“And you moved here? From New York?” His father eyed you skeptically.

 “Father—” A cold look silenced Draco.

“Yes sir,” Your smile was sweet and conniving.

“Was the city not satisfactory for you?”

“It had a certain charm,” You spoke softly. “But I didn’t want to give my teenage years to a concrete jungle when I could call here my home,”

“Well,” Draco’s mother cut in before his father had a change to reply. “You sure do have quite a spirit in you. I can see what our Draco likes about you,”

You smiled and looked over at him. The blush on your cheeks matched his.

“Thank you,”

Lunch came and passed. If it was out of the ordinary in any way to you, you gave no sign.

You did however, pause, gazing at his grand piano that sat in the drawing room, your face pensive.

“You play?” He mused, curious. You hadn’t let on if your hidden talent. 

“Not very well,” You muttered back. “It’s been years.”

“Y/n, do you play my dear?” His mother cut in. “You must play for us,”

“I...” Glancing at the piano, you caught your lip in worry.

“Mother, if she isn’t comfortable, she doesn’t have to,” Draco defended.

“No, it’s alright... you must forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve played properly.”

The shy smile on your face didn’t fade as you made your way to the instrument. He shadowed you all the while, asking one more time before you began to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your smile turned warmer. “It’ll be alright.”

Draco watched as you placed your hands on the glossy white keys and fell into a pattern as they searched for the next note, the next chord, the next verse. And you kept forging ahead until your piece had come to an end. Draco should have known that you’d lie about having the talent tucked away.

“That was lovely,” His mother fawned from somewhere behind. “Draco you must play with her,”

The eyebrow you raised at him informed him that maybe he also hid the talent from you unintentionally. Who did you think the piano belonged to?

“Any ideas?” He muttered softly, placing his hands on the keys next to yours.

“Moonlight Sonata?” It was a simple request, and one that he knew decently enough to nod.

Draco began the repetitive harmony as you waited for the melody and joined him. Your fingers played in time and in tune as the song unfolded—your hands trailing along the treble clef and his adding in the deeper bass tones.

It wasn’t until one of his hands ran into yours that the dance faltered, and four hands banged on the keys in frustration. Draco laughed at the simple fact that you had the same response to making a mistake as he did while playing. Your soft laughter joined his.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and you both turned, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of his father. Draco looked down anxious and respectful and you followed suit, your hand finding his in reassurance.

“Perhaps if you two had more time to practice together, you two wouldn’t be tripping over another.” His father mused.

“Father?” Draco looked up. “Does that mean?”

“Yes, she is welcomed here any time she wishes.” His father gave a small smile.

 Relief flooded through both of you. Draco might have even slouched momentarily. 

.

Masterlist

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[secretsantasides]

Gift #18: Tutoring Sessions

Gift for  @problemtique​

Request: Analogical, Highschool au where Virgil is Super Smart but prefers to hide it Logan finds out and is GAY

Virgil sat at his usual table watching crowds of students bustle about. He eyed people who got too close to his table. Whenever someone caught his eye, they hurried along. He didn’t really mean to scare them. He simply had a resting face that screamed anger. During middle school, he tried to be friendly, but it never worked out in the end. So freshman year Virgil had found himself with Dolos and Remus- the two local delinquents. Everyone feared them and began to fear Virgil for being associated with them.

He didn’t mind. He adopted his closet to match their’s. Black jeans and tops. Dark purple hoodies and high tops. Heavy eyeshadow and dyed hair. After some time, Virgil found comfort in the dark aesthetic. He found comfort in the other’s presences. In Dolos’ dry and witty humor dripping sarcasm and how he always made sure people had somewhere to belong.In Remus’ loud laughter(albeit annoying as it was loud) and how he never judged anyone for anything. Everyone viewed them as bad and no good, but they were simply chaotic. And Virgil stuck with them throughout the past four years.

His thoughts came to a halt as a familiar face passed by. Virgil could feel blush painting his cheeks as he watched the boy. The other male’s blue eyes were framed by thick black glasses. He wore a dark button up shirt and jeans as he usually would. His movements were sharp, but fluid in a way that mesmerized Virgil. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and could only hope he was the only one who could hear it. The male continued to walk along and sat down at another table a few yards away. He nodded to the other two at the table before opening a book. He always read books during lunch. Virgil knew he had cooking after lunch so he simply ate then. Similar to how Virgil ate his lunch during his cooking period beforehand. And, oh, how he wished they had been put in the same class.

“Watching Logan again?” a voice startled Virgil. He jumped and glanced towards the direction where it came from. Remus grinned teasingly at Virgil as he sat down beside him. Dolos rolled his eyes as he took his seat opposite of the two.

“That’s a stupid question. Of course he was. When is Virgil not watching Logan during lunch?” Dolos chuckled.

Virgil cursed them under his breath before speaking louder, “You say that like I stalk him or something.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Remus podded.

“Because he’s the model student of the school and I’m a delinquent maybe? Or have you forgotten that?” Virgil opened his backpack and pulled out two tupperware kits. He slid one to each of the others, “Here. We made Korean beef and rice today.”

The two thanked him as they began to eat. Dolos smiled, “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re a really good cook Virgil.” He paused for a brief moment before exclaiming, “I know! How about you cook something for Logan? That might get his attention.”

“And paint myself as a weirdo? Like, ‘Hey, I know we haven’t properly talked since seventh grade, but I really liked you back then and I still like you! Have this cake I made for you!’? No thanks.”

The three fell silent as Dolos and Remus continued to eat. Virgil’s attention shifted back to Logan. He would glance up occasionally when one of his friends said something. Sometimes Virgil found himself jealous of Patton and Roman for being best friends with Logan. But he quickly tossed those feelings aside. There was nothing to be jealous of.

A shrill bell rang out announcing the end of lunch. Virgil shoved his tupperware back into his bag and waved goodbye to Remus as he headed off. Dolos and Virgil shared language arts after lunch so they made their way to the classroom together. The class was boring per usual. The pair sat next to one another and passed notes instead of focusing on the movie. Virgil had read the book plenty of times and seen the movie many more. He even owned the movie. He already knew everything about it and knew he would ace the test.

The class after that was chemistry with Mr. Sanders. Virgil dreaded this class, but it was also his favorite. The class itself was okay and Mr. Sanders was kind and friendly. Yet Logan was also in the class. While he wasn’t aware of it, he always managed to distract Virgil.

The purple haired teen walked into the classroom and made a bee line for his seat. It was several desks away from the door. He kept his eyes down the whole time to avoid glancing over at his crush who was seated four rows ahead of him. When the bell rang to begin class Virgil began to count down the minutes until it was over. Everytime he looked up to check the spelling of his notes or the clock, his eyes drifted to the back of Logan. He could see the other’s muscles moving through the black fabric as he wrote.

Virgil tore his eyes away from Logan’s back. He looked anywhere else. At the black tables lining the room that are used for experiments. At other students’ bags or shoes. At the cabinet full of various supplies. They landed on the clock. Thirty more minutes. Finally, he figured he’d tune back into the lesson. Every so often, he’d catch himself staring at Logan’s back again. And each time he’d force his attention elsewhere.

Just as the class was packing up, Logan approached Mr. Sanders. Virgil watched in curiosity as they spoke. Mr. Sanders smiled and clapped his hands together to gain the class’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at him.

“Class, Logan has just told me that he is now going to start offering one-on-one tutoring for those who need and- or want it. He is writing his number on the board so anyone who wants can contact him to set up a session,” Mr. Sanders beamed.

Logan sure enough had his number written on the board in large, clear numbers. Virgil realized this was his first time seeing his hand writing. It was crisp and neat and… Actually really pretty. The raven haired male spoke up, “Do not call or text me after nine o'clock or before five thirty. Please do not spam me nor call during school hours. I can help through text or over the phone if you can not meet in person. That is all.”

Without thinking, Virgil jotted down the number and made note of when not to message or call. He closed his notebook and shoved it in his backpack just as the bell rang. The male bolted for the door and disappeared into a crowd of students.

“You should totally text him!” Remus exclaimed, “This is your chance Virge!”

Virgil groaned. He regretted telling Remus and Dolos about Logan’s tutoring sessions. Now they’d find some way to force him to text Logan. They wouldn’t rest until Logan agreed to go out with Virgil- or reject him completely. He should have never let Dolos borrow his chem notes. They’re not even that good. It’s mostly just a bunch of correct spelling. He should have known Remus was going to also look at them and asked about the number. I should have lied about it.

Remus kept pressing for Virgil to text Logan or to even call him. The purple haired male didn’t notice Dolos grab his phone and start typing away. With a chuckle, Dolos placed the phone back down in front of Virgil, “There. That fixes the issue.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed at his bleach blonde friend. He quickly picked up his phone, “What fixes the issue? What did you do?”

“Set up a tutor session between you and Logan after school tomorrow.”

“I don’t need tutoring. I-” Virgil started before being cut off.

“Good thinking Dol!” Remus laughed and high hived Dolos.

Virgil stared down at his phone. A conversation between ‘him’ and Logan stared back. He felt like telling Logan the truth and cancelling the session. Surely he would understand… But what if he takes it the wrong way? Like I don’t need his help? Or that I think I’m above his help? Gah stupid Dolos…

“Fine. I’ll do this one session with him and that’s it. Got it?” Both Dolos and Remus nodded. “But Dol, you need to to talk to Roman then.”

Dolos’ face flushed. He opened his mouth a few times before closing it. Remus snickered at the sight. After a minute, Dolos nodded, “Deal.”

The next day was agonizing. Virgil had hoped he’d wake up sick to get out of the deal. Luck wasn’t on his side. He could hardly pay attention to his classes- not that he did half the time anyways. During lunch, Dolos informed him that he had spoken to Roman during Spanish class. Virgil didn’t believe him until Roman passed by and waved at Dolos.

By the time chemistry class rolled around, Virgil’s stomach was in knots. He lingered outside for a few minutes so he went in just before the bell rang. He hardly took notes and barely processed the words being said. When everyone started packing up, Logan approached Virgil.

“Hello Virgil. I would just like to confirm that we will be meeting in the library at three for your tutoring session,” Logan’s voice was flat and monotone. Yet Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat at the sound. He swallowed back the lump.

“Yeah… Totally… I’ll see you there!” He hated the words the second they left his mouth. Why did he have to say it like that? Logan nodded and the bell rang.

Virgil walked into the library to find Logan already at a table waiting. He walked over to the raven haired boy and sat down next to him. His brown eyes scanned the table. Logan already had his chemistry book and notes out. He began to pull his own out of his bag, “Hey Logan.”

“Virgil,” Was all he received back. When Virgil put his notebook on the table, Logan grabbed it, “May I look through your notes to see what all you have already?”

The purple haired male nodded. He watched as Logan frowned. His blue eyes piercing through Virgil. The latter smiled weakly as he already knew what his notebook looked like.

“This is nearly empty Virgil.”

“I know, I just…” Have most things down by memory... “Get confused as to what is important to write down and what isn’t?”

Logan sighed. He flipped through the notebook again, “We’ll start with definitions then move on from there.” Virgil nodded.

The session went smoothly. Logan was fairly patient and explained everything thoroughly. Virgil played dumb and asked for 'clarification’ occasionally. The hour flew by fast for the pair.

Virgil packed his things away. He messaged Dolos that the session was over. He watched as Logan began to pack up as well. He raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you have another session? I mean, you’re top student so plenty of people must want your help.”

“Everyone else simply texted me their questions. You are the only one who asked for a one-on-one session so far.”

“Oh.”

The two began to make their way to the parking lot. Virgil hated the silence. It made him anxious and uncomfortable. He had to break it, “Do you have your own car or are you getting picked up?”

Logan glanced at him, “I have my own car. Parents got me one when I turned sixteen. You?”

“I have my license, but can’t afford a car. Dolos is picking me up though,” Virgil explained.

“Ah. I see.”

A silence fell between them. They reached the student parking lot. It was relatively vacant with about ten cars. Virgil looked around for Dolos’ vehicle and groaned. He wasn’t here yet.

“I can give you a ride if your friend doesn’t show up,” Logan offered as he realized what Virgil groaned about.

Blush painted Virgil’s cheeks and he looked away from Logan hastily, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure he’ll show. He’s probably just trying to get his little sister into the car. He has to watch her while their mom is at work.” Why did I just tell him that? He didn’t need to know why Dolos is most likely late. He just needed to know that Dolos will show up.

“Um, okay then. Well,” Logan shrugged, “How about we have another session since you appear to need the help.”

Virgil’s heart pounded. He didn’t need the help. But this could be his chance to at least befriend Logan. He would be an idiot to waste this opportunity. “Yeah sure. I’m usually free whenever so whenever you can…” He trailed off.

“Tomorrow after school? Same time?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Virgil smiled.

Dolos pulled up just then. He waved at both of them. Virgil rolled his eyes and began to make his way to the car. He turned around quickly, “Bye Logan! I’ll… See you tomorrow?”

Logan waved with a nod, “Yes. Goodbye.”

Virgil hopped into the front seat and looked at the back seat. He waved at Trinity, “Hey Trin. How was your day at school?”

“We had a party! And I got to eat cake! And drink soda! And candy!” Trinity beamed. Virgil laughed and Trinity joined in.

“Ssssooo, Virgil… How’d your lil’ study session go, hmm?” Dolos asked.

The purple haired male faced his friend. Dolos shot him a glance. Virgil looked down at the floorboard, “It was good. He thinks I know absolutely nothing since my notebook is nearly empty- or was. He had me copy lots of his notes. And we… Uh… We’re having another session tomorrow.”

“Ooohhh. Virgil! Look at you! Willingly doing another session!”

“Shut up.”

The following weeks, Virgil met up with Logan after school two to three times a week. Remus and Dolos always poked fun at him. He always brushed off their remarks. He was content with where he was with Logan. They weren’t necessarily friends as they barely talked outside of the tutoring, but they were talking. And they were getting to know one another. Virgil told Logan about how he was an only child and how his parents were often at work. How they didn’t want him to work because they thought he should focus on school. How Dolos and Remus weren’t as bad as everyone seemed to think they were and how he’d never trade them out for anyone else.

In turn, he found out that Logan had a younger brother who was an eight grader and an older sister who was in college. He felt overshadowed by his siblings as the middle child and that why he made sure to make top student. He wanted his parents to be proud. And they are. Virgil also learned that Logan also didn’t have a job, but it was mostly due to his after school activities. That Logan’s best friends, Patton and Roman, always supported him at academic competitions.

Break time was rolling around and report cards were handed out first period. Virgil looked at his. All A’s. A few teacher’s left notes saying the typically “pleasure to have in class” while others were left blank. He stuffed the paper into a random notebook once he was done and left for his next class. Teachers throughout the day had also been giving back past works and tests. Virgil would have preferred to toss them out, but his parents wanted to see them. They could just look at his report card to know he was doing well in school, but they also wanted to ensure he was doing his work. So he tucked all the papers into their corresponding notebooks as he got them.

Virgil had a tutoring session later that day. He felt a bit bad about lying to Logan. Yet it got them talking so it was something. Besides, everyone else assumed he wasn’t very smart anyways. They all assumed because he preferred to do anything other than pay attention in classes, that he was failing. In reality, Virgil didn’t need to pay attention. He usually got most things down by memory after going over the materials a few times. He was much smarter than he let on. It’s not his fault everyone made assumptions just because he didn’t actively show it.

 Once Virgil entered the library, he looked around for Logan. He found him at a table near one of the windows. Logan saw him and waved him over. Virgil bit back a smile as he made his way to him, “Hey Lo.”

 “Hello Virgil,” Logan started, “Today will be shorter since break is coming up. There’s not a lot to review as Mr. Sanders prefers not to give us lots of work.”

 Virgil hummed in response. He pulled his notebook out and placed it down without looking as he pulled out his chemistry book. He looked up as he found it. Logan was flipping through all of the papers cramped in the notebook. Shoot! I forgot about them!

 Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. He set the stack down with a frown. Virgil began to sweat as anxiety started to creep in. Logan fixed Virgil with a look, “You don’t need this sessions, do you?”

 Virgil shook his head. His voice escaping him before he could explain.

 “Then why?”

 “Uhhh…” Virgil’s mouth felt dry as he worked fast on how to explain, “Well… Dolos actually was the one who texted you at first. And I was planning on telling the truth, but… I don’t know…”

 He shrugged and ducked his head trying to hide the blush settling on his cheeks. It was silent between them for several seconds. Virgil was growing more uncomfortable and his stomach twisted into knots.

 “Why did you keep doing them then? You, yourself, agreed to keep showing up.”

 “Well… I… Uhhh… Reallylikeyouandwantedtogettoknowyoubetteranddidn'treallyknowanyotherwaytosoyeah?” Virgil rushed out in a single breath.

 Logan blinked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get all of that.”

 The purple haired male drew a shaky breath, “I said that I really like you and didn’t know how to talk to you. So I decided to use this time as an excuse to hang out…”

 “Oh.”

 Silence fell between them again. Virgil reached for his stuff to start packing up. He felt like ditching all of his stuff and running away. Logan’s hand stopped him as he rested it on top of Virgil’s.

 “You realize a simple ‘Hey Logan want to hang out sometime?’ would have sufficed? I wouldn’t have said no,” Logan said in a soft voice.

 Virgil froze. His eyes were glued on their hands. He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He started to slowly process what Logan told him.

 The raven haired male sighed. He rolled his eyes, “Hey Virgil. Want to hang out sometime?”

 Virgil’s eyes slid from where they were fixated to Logan’s face. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle smile Logan had, “But I lied to you?”

 “Yes, well, it was nothing major that you lied about. So how about I pick you up sometime during break and we go out to eat somewhere?”

 “Um… Yeah sure! Sounds great!” Virgil laughed nervously. His heart pounded in his chest. Holy shit that sounds a lot like a date. I don’t think I’ll survive!

 “Great! It’s a date then!” Logan stood up and began to walk off, “I’ll text you details later.”

 “D-date?!” Virgil exclaimed. He heard a shush come from presumably the librarian, but ignored it. Items forgotten, he scurried after the other.

 “Yes Virgil. A date,” Logan smiled back at him, “I do prefer someone smart that I can have intellectual conversations with.”

 He ended the sentence with a wink before exiting the library. Virgil nearly fainted at the words. Dolos and Remus were going to lose their minds when he tells them. He himself could barely believe it. Virgil squealed inwardly as he went back to collect his things. Logan actually asked me out on a date! I can’t believe this! And I can’t wait!

[whumphoarder]

D is for Diploma

Summary: Between all of his commitments, Peter’s grades start slipping, putting him in danger of losing his academic scholarship to Midtown. Stressed and guilt-ridden about the effect this will have on May’s finances, he ends up worrying himself sick and having a breakdown in Tony’s lab.

Word count: 3,759

Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: Thanks so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading and encouragement <3

Link to read on Ao3

“But how are you getting a C in gym class?” Ned balks at his friend. He’s peering over Peter’s shoulder as he scrolls through his quarterly grades on the school library computer. “Everyone gets an A. I’m getting an A. All you gotta do is show up and at least look like you’re trying and boom, automatic A.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, remember after the Rhino dude attacked me, how I had all those bruises that didn’t heal right away?”

“Yeah...” Ned recalls, frowning. “But you said they didn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t! Not really, anyway,” Peter says quickly. “But like, I didn’t really want everyone to see that, so I kinda didn’t change into my uniform. And apparently if you don’t change, Wilson just marks you as absent.”

“Ah.” Ned gives him a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, that’s lame.”

“What I don’t understand,” MJ pipes up, glancing up from the book she’s had her nose in all afternoon, “is the D in Spanish. Rodríguez isn’t even a hard teacher.”

Peter’s face flushes with embarrassment. “So… I might have forgotten to submit a couple assignments.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You forgot? He reminds us what’s due, like, three times every class period.”

“I mean, it was just the take-home quiz...” he mumbles. “And some of the homework sheets. Oh, and that cultural essay thing about the ancient Mayans.”

“Peter.” She blinks at him. “That was like, twenty percent of our grade.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a concussion,” he defends. “It was a little hard to remember stuff that week.”

Ned rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, that makes it so much better.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. Honestly, between all the hours he’s been logging lately as Spider-Man, his frequent internship nights with Tony in the lab, the increasingly demanding decathlon practice schedule as their team moves toward regionals, and the weekend shifts he’s started picking up at Delmar’s (because, let’s face it, the vigilante life isn’t the most lucrative career path—the occasional free churro notwithstanding), Peter thinks he’s been doing quite well juggling everything. Sure, his grades aren’t quite the neat row of A’s and the occasional B he’s grown accustomed to throughout his school career, but it’s not like he’s failing anything.

“I’ve just got different priorities now,” Peter says with a shrug. “I still show up and I’m passing all my classes, so what does the grade matter?”

MJ returns the shrug, looking vaguely impressed with him. “It doesn’t really. I’ve always been morally opposed to using arbitrary numerical values as a measure of academic success.” She shifts her gaze back to her novel before adding, offhandedly, “But you gotta admit, the tuition break is nice.”

And in those nine little words, she might as well have punched him in the gut.

“Oh shit,” Peter breathes out. Hurriedly, he starts gathering books together and getting to his feet.

“What?” Ned asks, looking puzzled.

“Um, I gotta go,” he blurts. And then before anyone can say another word, he’s out of the library doors.

X

The Parkers aren’t poor, exactly.

May works full-time at her job as a neonatal nurse, besides picking up extra shifts one or two nights a month to give them a bit of cushion. Between her wages and the social security checks that come every month from Ben’s pension, the two of them get by. Sure, Peter might not have name-brand clothes or the coolest tech or even a pair of gym shoes without a bit of duct tape on the soles, but there’s always been food on the table and a roof over his head, so Peter’s never stressed that much about their financial situation.

Maybe that’s how he managed to completely forget about his academic scholarship.

He’s qualified for it ever since he passed Midtown’s entrance exams in the top tenth percentile back in eighth grade. The money is substantial—slightly over two-thirds of the tuition cost is paid for him—and the scholarship automatically renews every semester provided he maintains a grade point average of 3.3 or higher, which has never been a problem for him.

That is, up until now. Factoring in his B in history, the C’s in gym and trig, and his D in Spanish, his GPA is currently sitting at 2.9.

Peter is going to lose his scholarship.

X

With less than two weeks left before finals, Peter starts cramming in all the studying he can manage. He stays up late, pouring over his trigonometry notes, trying to work his way through all the practice problems he’s been slacking on. He makes a point of showing up three minutes early to gym class every day, even if he has to use a bit of his enhanced speed to get all the way there from the chem labs on the other side of the building. On the train, he quizzes himself on the names of historical figures and the dates of battles long-since fought. Some of his teachers are willing to work with him, letting him turn in late assignments for partial credit or giving him additional projects to complete.

And then there’s Spanish.

“Isn’t there some kind of extra credit project I can do?” Peter begs. “Anything?”

It’s his study hall period and he’s at Señor Rodríguez’s desk for the second day in a row, desperately hoping for anything that could give his grade the boost it needs.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” his teacher says, sounding genuinely regretful. “But you’ve had countless opportunities this semester to get your grade up via homework and test retakes, all of which you neglected to take advantage of. Coming to me with less than ten days left in the semester requesting make up work for assignments worth significant percentages of your grade is simply too little, too late.”

“But… I had a concussion that week,” Peter argues. “Like, right when it was all due. And I would have done the work before, but…” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence without explaining his unorthodox extracurriculars. “I...I was busy,” he concludes weakly.

Rodríguez raises an eyebrow a little skeptically. “I didn’t receive any notes from the nurse’s office about this concussion.”

Peter glances down to his feet. “Well, that’s because she didn’t know, exactly…”

No one did—not even May. After getting all those bruises the week before, Peter didn’t want anyone to know he was hurt again so soon. Apparently Karen hadn’t deemed the blow to the head he took severe enough to override his wishes. He’d just dealt with the headaches and brain fog the best he could and sort of floated through that week on his own. In hindsight, maybe not his best plan.

“Well, I guess this is a good life lesson for you then, Peter,” Rodríguez says. His voice is firm, but not unkind. “Part of growing up is taking responsibility and learning to communicate with authority figures before you get into trouble.”

“Right, and I get that,” Peter babbles, “I just—”

His teacher holds up a finger, quieting him. “My job is to train my students for success in the real world, and sometimes that means reminding you that actions have consequences. ¿Lo entiendes?”

And Peter finds himself nodding. Because, despite the pool of dread growing in his gut, he does understand. He wants to be mad, wants to say it’s unfair and the universe gave him a raw deal and he doesn’t deserve this. But he can’t. Rodríguez is right.

And Peter’s still fucked.

X

By the time Friday rolls around, Peter’s barely functioning. Besides all the extra assignments and studying for finals, he’s had three days in a row of Decathlon practices, followed by some particularly eventful evening patrols that all went quite a bit later than his usual curfew of ten p.m.

He can’t get much of his lunch down today, which does nothing to appease his friends’ concerned looks. The food seems tasteless in his mouth and he’s so tired he nearly nods off into his cafeteria chicken nuggets.

When school finally lets out, he’s surprised and a little disheartened to see the sleek black car waiting for him in the bus circle. He’d totally forgotten it was an internship weekend.

Figures.

X

Peter groans as he disconnects the circuits he just switched out. He’s been trying to fix a bug in his suit’s heater upgrade for the last twenty minutes now, but nothing he attempts is working and his head is throbbing so much that his vision is hazy.

“Just try again, kid,” Tony encourages absently from across the workshop. He’s not looking up, fully engrossed as he is in his own project. “You got this.”

“Yeah...” Peter mutters under his breath. Blinking a few times, he rubs a hand at his eyes to try to clear his vision.

He connects a different wire. That one doesn’t yield any better results, so he unplugs it and tries again. Then again. Then again. He’s fairly sure he’s already tried the next combination, but he’s so tired he can’t remember so he does it again just to be sure. Nothing.

Peter is so frustrated now that his hands are actually shaking. He pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again.

This time, the wire sparks at him.

“I can’t do this!” Peter exclaims, shoving the suit away from him across the table. “I can’t do anything! Why am I so fucking stupid?!”

He’s breathing heavily now, tears clouding his vision even further. Within a few seconds he feels Tony’s hand rest heavily on his shoulder. It should be comforting, but it only makes Peter feel pathetic.

“C’mon, just take a deep breath and—”

“No!” Peter blurts, shaking away from Tony’s grip. “That’s not going to fix anything! I can’t fix this—don’t you see?!”

Stepping backwards, Tony holds his hands up in front of his chest, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “Okay…” he says carefully. “I think you might need a break.”

Tears prick at Peter’s eyes and he instantly regrets snapping at his mentor. “No, no, I didn’t mean that! I’m s-sorry, ’m fine…” he says. It would probably sound a lot more convincing if his breath would stop hitching.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no, I’m pulling rank here,” he declares. “It’s break time.”

“No!” Peter protests. His hands fumble back on the table for the wires.  “I gotta finish it! It’s so close, it’s just—” He cuts himself off as the images of the suit swim before his eyes, his head throbbing. “I, I need to finish…” he concludes lamely.

“Peter, just stop,” Tony says with an exasperated sigh. “You’re no good like this.”

Somehow, those words are the catalyst. Peter feels every emotion he’s been bottling up for the past week erupt inside of him. His breath hitches and his head pulses. “I, I know I’m not,” he manages to say, “but that’s why I gotta… gotta finish, then maybe—”

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breathes out. “That’s not what I meant at all. I was just saying—”

Peter cuts him off. “No, I… I know…” Tears are sliding down Peter’s cheeks now. He runs a hand through his hair, shoulders shaking. “’M sorry.”

Tony’s eyes are a mixture of concern and confusion. “Whoa, hey, what’s going on here?” Tugging the edge of his sleeve over his thumb, Tony uses it to wipe a few of the tears off his cheeks. “Talk to me.”

Honestly, Peter doesn’t even know where to begin. The frustration of his current project, the lack of sleep, his grades, the scholarship…

“I just… I-I have a headache.”

Peter doesn’t know why he says it—the pressure in his skull doesn’t even rank very high on his list of concerns at the moment, yet the simple physicality of it somehow makes it the easiest thing to admit. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, but his vision is still so blurry. “Can’t really see straight…”

Tony’s brows knit together. “Is it a migraine?”

“N-No,” Peter says between choked sobs. “Or... I don’t know, I don’t th-think so?” Despite never having had a migraine, he’s pretty sure that’s not what this is. The pain isn’t anything exceptional—it’s just that he can’t seem to stop crying and he’s so fucking tired.

“Either way, I think you’ll feel better once you’ve got a couple painkillers in you,” Tony reasons. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted out.”

Peter shakes his head in weak protest. “No, ’s’okay... “

“Nope,” Tony says, his voice a little more firm. “Trust me on this, you don’t want to work in a lab right now. It’s bright, and loud, and honestly, you’re a bit of a safety hazard at the moment.”

To Peter’s horror, a fresh wave of emotion comes over him and he finds himself properly crying now, his frame wracking with each sob.

“Okay, okay, alright…” Tony murmurs, and Peter feels a hand awkwardly patting him on the back.

It’s all so idiotic, Peter decides, standing in Tony’s lab, crying over things that are completely his own fault and a headache that isn’t even that bad.

“You’re okay, kid,” Tony whispers. “Just breathe.”

As Peter struggles to pull himself together, he feels the hand switch to rubbing circles on his back. It moves up to the back of his neck, but halts as soon as Tony’s fingers touch Peter’s bare skin.

Tony frowns. “Do you have a fever?”

“Wh-What?” Peter’s throat is thick.

“You’re really warm,” Tony explains. He flips his hand around to press the back of his fingers to Peter’s skin, first on his neck, then on his cheek. “Yeah. FRIDAY, can we get a read on that?”

“100.7, boss,” she supplies.

Tony hums a bit. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought…”

Peter doesn’t get it. “B-But I’m not sick,” he protests. “Just—”

“Exhausted,” Tony finishes for him. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

Sniffling, Peter gives a non-committal shrug.

“Yeah, that’s not good, kid,” Tony huffs. “Take it from a guy who has a bit of experience in this area—not sleeping enough will seriously mess you up.”

With a hand on Peter’s back, Tony starts gently ushering the kid out of the lab. Peter doesn’t even bother protesting anymore as he shuffles along, his lip quivering. He figures he’s caused enough trouble today.

Tony deposits him onto the couch in the living room and Peter immediately curls up against the arm rest, squeezing his eyelids shut in an effort not to think about what a fool he’s making of himself in front of his mentor. It doesn’t help much.

“You just chill out for a minute here, okay?” Tony says quietly, draping a blanket over Peter. “I’m gonna get you some meds.”

Peter nods and Tony gives his shoulder a final squeeze before stepping out.

The second he’s alone, the tears start streaming down again, hot and silent and totally uncontrollable. If he’s not working in the lab, then he really should be studying for these stupid finals, but he can’t bring himself to pull out his flash cards. He doesn’t think he can rest—not with so much hanging over his head—but he can’t work either. Tony was right; he’s just no good right now.

When Tony reenters with painkillers and a glass of water, he doesn’t say anything about how Peter is hurriedly sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands in a pointless attempt to pull himself together. He just presses two pills into Peter’s palm.

Looking down at the painkillers in his shaking hand, Peter’s stomach twists and he’s suddenly not so sure they’ll be able to stay down. “I can’t. I feel sick,” he admits in a whisper.

With a quiet sigh, Tony perches himself on the edge of the sofa, right beside Peter’s tucked knees. “I think you’re just tired, kiddo. Sometimes that makes you feel a little sick.”

Peter doesn’t say anything so Tony passes him the glass of water. “Here. Humor me,” he says. “If I’m wrong, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

It’s a stupid joke, but the corners of Peter’s lips twitch anyway. “Okay,” he croaks.

Peter slips the pills into his mouth and swallows them down with a sip of water. He’s queasy, but it’s not too bad. He goes to set the cup back down on the coffee table, but his mentor shakes his head.

“Drink the whole thing,” Tony instructs.

Peter obeys. It takes him a couple of minutes, but he manages to get the entire cup down and feels just the smallest bit better for it.

Tony takes the empty glass from his hand and sets it on the table. “Think you can sleep now?”

Peter just shrugs. He wants to—god, he wants to—but he doesn’t deserve it. Not when this is all his own damn fault. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again:

“I think I really messed up, Mr. Stark.”

X

Over the next ten minutes, it all comes tumbling out: the job at Delmar’s, the decathlon requirements, the late patrols, his slipping grades, his scholarship, everything.

“I just… I don’t want to change schools,” Peter concludes softly. “I like Midtown. It was the first place I really felt like… well, like I fit in.”

Tony’s been quiet for the whole time Peter was speaking, but now his brow furrows. “Why would you need to quit Midtown?”

Peter blinks at him; isn’t it obvious? “Because the full tuition is eight thousand dollars a semester. Without the scholarship…” he trails off. “I just can’t do that to May.”

A look of relief spreads across Tony’s face. “Is that all? That’s the whole issue?” He huffs out an amused breath. “Done. Consider it paid. Problem solved.”

Peter feels his cheeks flush. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean that you should pay! Please don’t do that!”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blink at him. “Peter. I am a multi-billionaire. Do you have any idea what eight thousand dollars is to me?”

“But you shouldn’t have t—”

“Peanuts,” Tony cuts him off. “I’ve spent more on peanuts than that.”

“But—”

“And by that I mean actual, honest-to-god peanuts,” Tony continues over the kid’s protests. “There’s this company in Peru that slow-roasts them for twenty-one days in a secret spice blend. Happy’s obsessed with ‘em—says they’re god’s gift to mankind. So, for Christmas one year—”

“You can’t pay my tuition!” Peter blurts out.

Tony stops his story abruptly. His eyes narrow at Peter. “And why exactly is that?”

“Because…” Running a hand through his hair, Peter draws in a shuddery breath. “Because… If anyone should pay, it’s me. I-I’m the one who fucked up and lost the stupid scholarship. I should be the one responsible for fixing this.”

“But you can’t fix it,” Tony says bluntly.

Peter’s caught off-guard. “Wh-What? N-No, I just need to get my grades up, and, and…”

Tony’s voice is gentler now. “You can’t, Peter. You can’t get a 2.9 up to a 3.3 by next week, no matter how well you do on your exams. You’ve gotta know that.”

(Peter does know. He’s known for days. He’s always been good at math, after all.)

“So you can’t keep going on like this, trying to make up for what happened,” Tony concludes.

Tears prick at the corners of Peter’s eyes once more. He’s determined not to let them fall this time. “But I deserve it…” he whispers.

Tony shrugs. “If we always got what we deserved, I never would have made it through the 90s.” He huffs out a short laugh. “At least nobody has to bail you out of prison. Same can’t be said for all of us.”

In spite of Peter’s earlier resolve, the traitorous tears slip out anyway. He wonders how he has any left.

Tony sobers a bit. “You’re a good kid, Pete,” he says quietly. “But you’re trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders and that’s enough to break anyone. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Even if you fucked up.”

Peter swallows hard. “Okay.”

“So let’s try this again,” Tony says. He makes eye contact with Peter. “What do you need, kid?”

“Right now?” Peter exhales deeply. “I dunno. A nap?”

Tony smirks slightly. “I think we can manage that.”

X

Peter makes it through finals.

All his extra effort and studying does yield some results. His gym grade increases to a B after Coach Wilson grades his two-page extra credit report on the rules of badminton. The trig final is rough, but he pulls in another couple points there, and the art teacher accepts a few late sketches from the unit on perspectivism. With the help of the final exam, he even manages to eek out a C- in Spanish.

When it’s all said and done, Peter’s GPA sits at 3.1.

“That wasn’t easy to do. I’m proud of you, Peter,” May says sincerely. “You know that, right?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess so.”

They’re sitting together at the apartment’s small kitchen table, May’s open laptop in front of them with all of Peter’s end of semester grades displayed. Peter’s eyes drift down from the screen to the table where a check for eight thousand dollars signed by Tony Stark himself is staring back at him. He sighs.

May plants a quick kiss on the top of her nephew’s head. “Well, I know so. So for now, I’ll just know it for the both of us.”

Peter strokes his fingers over the crisp paper of the check. Besides covering tuition, Tony has now upgraded Peter’s unofficial SI internship to a paid position—something he says he should have done long ago, given how much time Peter spends working in the lab—and that will allow him to give Mr. Delmar his two-week notice.

He knows he should be grateful, but honestly, it’s going to take him some time to wrap his head around the concept of being taken care of like this.

Getting up from the table, May moves over to retrieve a small paper bag from the counter. “That reminds me—Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” She tosses the bag to Peter, who catches it easily.

Curiously, he opens it. He’s immediately hit with the aroma of exotic spices and roasted legumes. Peter can’t help but grin.

A note inside the bag reads: Enjoy your peanuts, kid.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: 

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Fic Masterlist

[fonulyn]

hi :) do you have any advice for new teachers? i suddenly got my first teaching position and i'm kind of freaking out O_O

ohhhh congratulations!! :D ah and try to take deep breaths and calm down, I’m sure you’ll do great! 

the advice kind of would depend on how old kids you’re teaching (if kids at all?) because it’s quite different working with the little ones and with the teenagers, so. personally I find the smaller children a little intimidating and I’m glad I work with 13-19 year olds, because I can handle them much better :’D

but in general what I find is the most important thing about being a teacher is being fair to everyone. it’s impossible to actually like everyone you teach, especially if you work with teenagers when there’s always one of two who try their best to piss you off. but you’ve still got to treat them all the same, and give everyone the same opportunities for guidance and help. they’re kids. i’m the adult. i’ve got to see past the spitting on floors and yelling at me how math sucks.

and usually the kids will notice you’re being fair and not playing favorites and they’ll respect that. 

another thing i’ve learned is that often even when you feel like screaming and stomping your foot and throwing things, the best thing can be to smile and brush it off with a joke. like... pick your battles? don’t make a huge deal out of everything, so then when you do make a big deal out of an actually important issue it then actually sticks with them. i’m not gonna yell at them for making a paper airplane out of their exam, because it’s not a huge deal. but i am going to give them a stern talking to about for example offensive and homophobic language. because i think it’s a more important life lesson for them in the end. 

most kids are really good kids. they might act tough, and act out, but in the end they’re good kids. and i love working with them. that moment when you actually get through to someone who has done nothing but give you troubles, even for a second? amazing.

some teachers have their teacher-me and private-me and that is absolutely legit, that’s valid, if you feel like you need the separation then it’s your choice. personally for me, i can’t make that distinction. i find it easiest to be myself. be as honest and as genuine as possible. it doesn’t mean i’m gonna open up about everything, god no. but like. they see when you’re particularly tired, so admitting to it usually is the better call than trying to pretend you’re not. 

i’ve gone into the classroom with red rimmed eyes after crying, and all I got was “O_O are you okay???” when i was afraid they’d make fun of me. usually when they sense it’s serious, they won’t make it worse. 

but like this is where your personality comes into play a lot? I know colleagues who are amazing teachers but who are very strict in the classroom and they need to focus on the subject at hand all the time. wherein me? i go off on a tangent all the time, we’ll talk about things that definitely weren’t in the lesson plan at all. i can laugh at myself, and i don’t mind if they laugh at me as long as it’s all in good fun and not mean. 

and if they piss me off i can honestly tell them that c’mon, you’re being little shits right now, can’t you see how there’s smoke coming out of my ears :’D usually it gets a laugh and they do behave better.

idk i just really love this job?? i’m getting all teary-eyed here thinking about all the amazing students i’ve had :’D

OH AND one thing i learned like two years into teaching; you don’t always need to have every answer at hand immediately! i used to stress about it a lot, and felt that it made me less respectable and less of a teacher if i couldn’t answer every single question they asked. i even tried to make up an answer on the spot sometimes, until i talked with my dad (who was a teacher too lmao, as was my mom), and he was all “you’re still the one who knows the most about this in the room. they won’t mind if you need to google something.”

and you know what? they won’t! nowadays if they ask me what the price for a gram of gold is I can say “i do not know. i will look it up!” and then i will inform them when i’ve acquired that knowledge. if it’s a quick search i can do it while they’re working on some assignments or whatever, if it’s a more complex topic i’ll tell them “we’ll talk about this tomorrow” and they always accept it. they always just nod and when we get back to it they’re glad they got the info they wanted.

it’s okay not to know everything. and it’s okay to admit to your flaws. in the end they will remember the countless things you did tell them without looking them up and a few “oh man i have no idea!”s in between won’t do anything. except maybe make you look more human, idk? 

and it’s good to be flexible if you can. if something you planned out for a lesson isn’t working, it’s always good to have a plan b. i once tried a different approach during a chem lesson but they hated it so we stopped halfway through and just played hangman with names of chemical compounds for a bit and it was good.

sometimes they just need an adult to be present so they can rant about something that bothers them, and if some physics has to be set aside for that? fine. we can learn newton’s third law tomorrow if today you need to talk about how our government is handling immigration.

and one important thing: go easy on yourself, okay?

not every lesson is a great lesson. sometimes it’s enough that you got them to do anything at all. sometimes nothing you plan will work out. sometimes there are lessons when everything goes wrong, no one learns anything, and all those great plans you made just flew out of the window. but it happens. move on. the next lesson will be better! the next day will look up. 

i had this one group of 14-year-olds once, and there were two kids who hated me. it took us literally three months where every single lesson was a struggle. but after that it got better. by the end of the semester, there were some absolutely great lessons too. once i had a lesson so bad i cried for fifteen minutes straight afterwards bc nothing worked out. but you know what? the next lesson for the same group was great. 

i love this job. it’s amazing. i wouldn’t want to do anything else. but there are bad days and it’s fine. it happens. don’t beat yourself up for it. talk to someone about it, or come tell me about it if it helps ;) but then move on and it’ll get better. you’re not a bad teacher if you have a bad lesson or a few.

and the good lessons? when you see how someone finally gets a particularly difficult topic? when a kid who has panicked every math lesson suddenly gets something right and gives you the biggest smile? when someone who thought they’d never pass a single math course gets through them all? i don’t think there’s anything as rewarding as that. 

and the lessons when you get to laugh with them, work with them, everything goes as you planned and they’re excited about the topic and you get to actually enjoy every second of the lesson? that’s. that’s why i do this, seriously. those lessons feel like they’re not work at all. and there are surprisingly many of them. 

have i mentioned i love this job?? because i do. 

i’m sorry i rambled so much i ...don’t know if any of this is actually good or useful advice for you?? but feel free to drop me a message anytime if you need some support!! you’ve got this! :D

[orbitariums]

brain freeze (peter parker x black reader)

brain freeze

     peter watched the clock idly as time went by, eyes glued to the ticking hands on the clock. he was leaning against the counter behind the assortment of ice creams that were protected by glass, and waiting boredly for someone to come in.

     his shift was over soon and he could leave and go home where ned would be awaiting to build the lego death-star with him. but for now he was at scoops ahoy. he didn’t mind it much, working here - who didn’t want to be surrounded by ice cream and happy people eating ice cream all day long? at least, that was what peter thought. it was good to get a normal job experience and a little cash for himself, and to help aunt may. he could still be a regular teenage boy. still, he was working alone today and it was empty in scoops ahoy.

      at least, until you came in.

     peter looked up as the door swung open and a girl walked in with her friends, and there she was, shining in all her glory. her friends were pretty but she was the prettiest, and peter stood up tall when he saw her coming forward. you paid no mind to him, engrossed in cheery conversation with your friends, laughing with your mouth open in a smile and then listening to what they had to say, a cool look on your face signaling that you were listening.

     the whole group of girls weren’t very occupied with their surroundings and especially not with peter, it was as if he wasn’t even there. when peter’s mind had shut down its repetitive cycle of thinking: “wow, she’s so pretty!” or “i look so stupid just standing here in my uniform … what am i saying, she’s not even looking at me. i wish she would”, he quickly realized the girl.

     he knew you as the new girl in town and at midtown high. your name was yn and she was a transfer from a performing arts school in oakland, california where you used to live. how you switched from the arts to tech, peter didn’t know. what he did know was that he missed 90% of the lessons being taught in classes he had with you because he was looking at you, blinded by your beauty. your skin was a chocolate (or dark chocolate) color, blemish-free and radiant, with (insert hair type and color) that complimented your already perfect face. regardless of your height, to peter you stood tall because of your remarkable beauty.

     he spent most times during lessons when he had a class with you either staring at your back or peeking over at you from the other side of the room. you were naturally beautiful and for that, naturally popular, but from what peter could see you were also smart and generally nice to everyone, though also cool-headed and much smoother than peter could ever dream to be. where you delivered words with a calm, soft voice and suave smile, peter stuttered and tripped over the simplest of sentences (unless there was discourse on anything sci-fi or old movie pop culture related.)

     even so, knowing that you were probably a harmless person and it wouldn’t kill to try to be your friend, peter didn’t have the chest to just walk up to you and start a conversation. the only time you’d spoken was when you had to partner up in chemistry. he vaguely remembered you smiling and saying your name, introducing yourself, and him just nodding and nervously mumbling, “peter”, and then you went their separate ways and split up the experiment. so, it wasn’t much of a first impression if an impression at all.

     and now, he was serving you ice cream in the parlor where he worked. and he would have to talk to you, and all your gorgeous friends. and the way he was freezing up now, he wouldn’t try to make conversation with you outside of just taking your order. in fact, he barely even noticed that he was now being waited on, that your friends were staring at him and he was just stuck, his lips slightly parted, eyes glimmering with hope and that giddy anticipation reminiscent of middle school crushes.

      “um, hello?” one of them said, a tan girl who peter knew to be named carmella.

     he cleared his throat abruptly and tore his eyes away from you, suddenly readying himself at the register and straightening up, and his cheeks were already burning at the awkward moment.

     “oh,” peter said. “sorry. uh, welcome to scoops ahoy… ahoy! what would you guys… like to get today?”

     peter found his voice trailing off and his eyes traveling back over to yn inadvertently as he tried to compose himself, failing miserably. a concoction of girlish, knowing giggles emerged from your group of friends as they noticed peter glancing over at you and tripping over himself. they laughed innocently, making peter’s face burn even more red and curse his complexion for making his blushing so easy to see.

     “um, can i get a butter pecan in a cup, please?” another one of your friends named daya started to order, and they all ordered before yn, peter taking them down and whipping up their orders as usual.

     they had all sat down with their ice cream at a table nearby by the time it was your turn to order, and peter’s grew unsteady, his hands getting fidgety, and he was having trouble looking you in the eye.

     “hey,” you said, your velvety smooth voice calm and already reassuring. peter looked into your eyes to find them hard, but somehow comforting. you were speaking quieter so your conversation was private and that was apparent too. and now peter was frozen again, it was like you gave him a brain freeze. “don’t pay attention to my friends, they were just giving you a hard time, but they don’t mean any harm.” you laughed slightly and peter’s heart soared - it was like listening to an angel sing while fairies tittered somewhere beyond. “promise.”

     peter nodded, his body feeling strangled, and his words coming out in a stammer,

     “i-it’s fine, they um… were really nice. no hard times over here.”

     you laughed again and it became apparent to peter that you were laughing at him, though not in a mean-spirited way, but because you found him funny, and that was good. he didn’t know how to talk to pretty girls but at least he knew that much.

     “you sure?” you asked, and peter nodded quickly,

    “uh huh. hundred percent.”

you laughed again, he was so cute and funny to you and you didn’t even know why you were really starting a conversation with him out of the blue. as much as you liked it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding him up.

     “i’m sorry, i’m wasting your time. can i get umm, a small chocolate-vanilla swirl, on a cake cone?”

     “soft-serve?” peter asked, his customer service voice kicking in.

     “yeah,” you said, and when you looked up, your eyes were gleaming, making peter’s breath hitch in his throat.

he started to freeze again, but stopped himself this time, glancing down and scratching the nape of his neck, blinking harshly,

     “uhh, will that be all?”

     “yep.”

     “your total is $3.42,” peter announced after handling the register, and you handed him a five dollar bill with ease, peter looking down and noticing your well-groomed nails and how soft your hands looked. “here’s your change.”

he gave you back your change and something in him snapped when he blurted,

     “and you weren’t.”

you cocked her head to the side, confused,

     “weren’t what?”

     “wasting my time,” peter answered, finding the courage in himself to smile at her just a moment,  blissed out when you smiled back.

     “you’re so cute,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing, just a meaningless compliment that would be thrown into the void. but peter’s heart physically panged when you said it and his cheeks went as red as the cherry he put on top of your ice cream, handing it to you with hands that were damn near trembling.

     “th-anks,” he said, his voice cracking.

     his mind was racing, replaying the three words over and over again in his head. he was already preparing himself to never talk to you in school but always remember this moment as one he would cherish, the sole interaction that mattered between the two of you, small but a victory anyway. but he looked up when he noticed you hadn’t yet retreated back to your friends who were all laughing among themselves.

      you were just standing where you had been in front of him, holding your ice cream cone in both hands and gazing inquisitively at him as you licked your ice cream. it took everything in peter for his eyes not to glance down at your lips and notice the clear lip gloss you had on that made your lips look pouty and kissable and shiny, and he did anyway.

     “peter, right?” you said, and for a second he forgot that you too must know him from school, that this was a mutual understanding. peter figured you had just read his nametag until he realized you were actually conscious of his existence.

     “yeah... yeah, peter. peter parker.”

     “peter parker, sounds like a superhero’s name,” you repeated his name and it sounded like ice cream rolling off your tongue - literally.

he smiled softly,

     “yeah, that’s me, heroic as ever. and you’re yn.”

     “c’est moi,” you decided to lean on the counter so you could peer your head in and feel closer to peter, which of course made his heart race like mad, but surprisingly he kept his cool.

     “i’m… peter,” he said, his voice getting lost as he found himself staring into your eyes, realizing too late that he sounded like a cd stuck on repeat.

you giggled loudly, amused by his awkwardness and cute behavior, cooing,

     “yeah, i got that. you’re in my chem class, and you’re like really smart.”

     “oh yeah?” peter laughed to himself and rested his hand down, accidentally popping open the register, scaring himself, and then having to close it abruptly.

     “hells yeah. this one time no one else knew how to balance this precipitation reaction and you did it in like point five seconds. it was pretty impressive,” peter detected the tone in your voice as impressed, admiration even? it was too surreal to fully address.

     “wow,” peter was blown away at the fact that you even noticed his presence in that class. “i mean um, thanks. you’re pretty - smart … too. i mean you’re pretty smart too. and, pretty. but also smart.”

you smiled, although peter was mentally beating himself up for being so rattled,

     “thanks.”

     “um, i like your earrings,” peter said in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going, though he really did like your earrings, gold hoop ones shaped in a heart.

     “thanks! they were like five bucks at the beauty supply store, i had to cop them. they’re these bamboo heart-shaped hoop earrings. pretty cool.” “yeah,” peter chuckled. “cool.”

     he didn’t mean to sound as careless as he did, it was just that he wasn’t used to talking to pretty girls for a prolonged amount of time, and he was in pure shock at the fact that you of all people wanted to talk to him. like, you were willingly starting and holding conversation and the fact of that was too much to handle.

     “so, have you lived here your whole life?”

     “at scoops ahoy?” peter replied with a question, face palming when he realized you obviously weren't referring to that. “i mean, queens, god. yeah, pretty much. and you-”

     “moved here from oakland, cali. so, kinda california girl meets new york. you know, it’s so different here, but i like it. the people are really nice, despite popular belief.”

     “you must have gotten lucky with the people,” peter joked, and you just smirked,

     “i was talking about you. but, sure.”

     peter paused, taking in what you had just said and how easily the conversation was flowing, mostly thanks to you not being as awkward as he was, and he figured now was his time.

     “um... listen, i know we only really just met and all, but-”

    “just met? peter, i’ve known you for like, a couple months now,” you teased, and he laughed nervously, shaking his head, his curls falling onto his forehead,

   “aha, yeah, right. but we’ve only just met and i was wondering if… if you… maybe wanted to hang out sometime. i-if you want. you definitely don’t have to, but-”

you made a face,

     “we’re hanging out right now.” you caught sight of peter’s fallen face and just chuckled, nudging his arm from the other side of the counter, your touch electrifying him. “peter, i’m kidding!”

     “oh,” he giggled nervously, continuing to scratch at the nape of his neck. “i’m sorry, i-”

     “don’t be,” you commanded, and suddenly he knew not to be. you took a pen from nearby, holding your ice cream in a different hand, and started to scribble something onto a piece of napkin. “here’s my number. call me sometime.”

      peter practically choked on his own spit at the sight and he blinked fiercely, his mind going foggy because he hadn’t yet evaluated what would happen in this particular series of events. he wasn’t sure if it was real or just some sick fantasy waiting to mock him by his sleep, but when he felt the touch of the soft napkin dimpled with pen engravings in his hand he knew it had to be real. you were giving him your number.

     “oh. wow, thanks, this is… i’ll just call you.”

    “that’s how phones work,” you giggled, and his fogginess and shock morphed into excitement and anticipation as he waved the napkin around in his fingers.

     “yeah. i’m not that smart after all,” he said, joyous to hear you laugh again. “god, i know i must look so-”

      “shhh, don’t say anything bad about yourself. look, i gotta go. but call me soon. maybe tonight, we can talk. if you want to.”

     peter’s face lit up like a christmas tree and he beamed at you,

    “yeah, i’ll call you.”

     “cool,” you said, your heart rate increasing just like his did as you walked backward, facing him.

     “cool,” he repeated, under his breath, a smile forever encasing his features.

     “guys, let’s go,” you corralled your friends and they followed, filtering out of the parlor. you continued to walk backwards so you could face peter, “bye!”

     “you look really pretty, by the way. really nice,” peter blurted out of excitement, still finding the need to correct himself.

     this time you were the one whose cheeks got warm,

     “thanks! you too,” you had reached the door by now and you were beginning to turn away. “bye, peter!”

peter said goodbye again and watched as you turned around and walked out the door, joining your friends, all grouped up and laughing with them again. and even with all the conversation you had just had, he still got a brain freeze when you turned around for a second, away from your friends, just to look at him again, a smile on your face, too.

[bearcina]

Fallout OC Seven day SPECIAL: Day Five - Intelligence

Welcome to day five- the ficlet is a little longer today.

Q&A 

What is your OC’s Intelligence stat without any modifiers, whether it’s perks, clothes or chems? It’s a solid 6. 

Can your OC read, write and do basic math? She can read, write and do basic arithmetic (enough to do the basic finances for New Vegas if Yes Man is down for updates.) She can write, but as the ghoulification sets in, she will eventually get out of doing a neat handwriting. Reading is alright, she has about 8th grade/late middle-school/early highschool comprehension. 

What was the basis of their education? Were they formally educated or did they have to learn as they went? She was taught the alphabet and numbers and some basic reading comprehension from her father, and her girlfriends usually would take the time to teach her how to write for her courier job. 

However, all sorts of coding was taught secondhand by Doctor 8 and Doctor O, the poor saints, so most of what she knows on that fronteir shows up when she’s on mentats- as thats how O and 8 took the time to teach her- it’s much easier when your student is close to your intelligence. 

Most of her writing and reading comprehension was played by ear, if she can get a few letters in the word out, she can figure out what the word is, and she can generally get the rest by context clues. Her handwriting, however, is piss poor. Don’t ask her to write anything other than numbers on a page. 

Do they favor brains over brawn? Only if she knows she couldn’t win in a fight. Usually, she goes in guns-blazing, but when she’s cornered without her trusty plasma defender, you can bet she’s already got a couple mentats in her. 

How good are they with technology? without mentats and specialty clothes, she can take apart things and put them back together- maybe do basic fixes. She definitely knows how to use her computer in her suite, but only about as much as getting into a word prossessor and making journal entries. 

What sort of modifiers (clothes, chems, perks, etc...) do they have? She can usually be found with Doctor Mobius’ Glasses (+2 for her Int up to 8) on, they were nearly identical to her perscription! (She also has his full outfit, the scrubs, gloves and glasses. It’s a favorite set if she’s doing gross things- keeps the guts and grease off her hands and clothes)

She does take two Intense Training into intelligence later on, definitely after the Second Battle, she needed the boost if she as going to be running the show alone for a while. 

And she often can be found with mentats, and a nosebleed, if she’s working hard at something for Yes Man. RobCo TermLink is a hard language, and she only knows the basics, after all. 

--

Ficlet

"You're… how smart, you say?" "About as smart as a jet junkie with a batch mixed with mentats." Elisavet shrugged, it was the closest thing to her intelligence anyways. She was devoted to finding her next fix, she still had a minor addiction to jet- the craving nagged at her brain often, but not enough to ruin her daily routine. "But, you know, since you're usually 'observing' my little scraps down in the basement- I can have my good thoughts." 

"You blew up---" yes Man blubbered, claws tinking together. "well, I don’t-" "I can hear it when you move the cameras." Elisavet chuckled. "You're not as smooth as you think, the cameras in the basement squeal." She sat down the screwdriver she was using. There was a giant securitron arm laid out in her lap. "How about that holotape? Learned your lesson yet, this is week three without your favorite chassis." "I'm-" Yes Man whined, obviously overly embarrassed. "I've, well, learned my lesson." "You better have- I've been stuck on a mentat high for the past four days- I don't know how you even managed to-" "I don’t have to explain, right-" "No, you don't. I get it, stupid things happen." Elisavet smiled, she loved teasing her favorite robot, but she knew there was a limit to teasing the poor thing could take. "I still… am baffled by this though- how did you get your arm stuck like that? And your software won't release it, either. I bet Doc O would be willing to help break down th-" "we do not bring up that robot here!" Yes Man huffed. He didn't like it when she talked about the other robots she had previously flirting with. "Hey! He was actually pretty brilliant sometimes-" She whined, she did get times where she missed the Think Tank- especially Doctor Dala… But that’s a store for another time. 

"No! You say he was always breaking things!" "Oh, but you haven't met little Muggy- he's like a tiny, tiny… angry… companion? Friend? Son? I don't know, it's complicated." She sighed, remembering her tiny securitron friend- which reminded her she had a few more mugs to drop off. His collection was filling up the extra space left where Think Tank was. "I don't care if you- wait- didn't you mention he was a tiny securitron-?" 

"Yeah! So small! His arms shoot soap bubbles and water instead of bullets and missiles! Very cute!" Elisavet picked her screwdriver back up, but it was knocked back down by a specific jealous securitron. "I thought I was-" Yes Man blubbered sadly. "I thought I was your favorite securitron!" "Of course you are- I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't." Elisavet smiled. "You forget how much time and mentats I dedicate to fixing you alone- especially this one silly chassis, because it's your favorite." She tried getting her screwdriver back, the mentats were finally starting to wear off, and she didn't want to crack open another pack yet- she already had a pretty bad nosebleed from the stuff. "I do need my rag though- this blood is getting a little-" "You're bleeding?!"  Yes Man wailed, panicking as he tried finding one of the many grease-soaked rags Elisavet had already used. "Why didn't you say you were bleeding-" "I'm not smart enough to do this without a boost, hon. You should know that by now- and you've been watching me for the past three weeks, I'm surprised you didn't notice how much I lost on Monday- my computer keyboard is-" "You got blood in your keyboard?!" Elisavet snickered as she continued on with his commentary. "Yes, there's now blood on my keyboard. I always start getting nosebleeds with how heavily I've been eating those mentats." She wiped the blood off her lips and neck. "I'm only so smart without a boost- I can't decipher that stupid code from House without the boost. Hard to tell head from tails with some of those words! I've got a wasteland education- and you can't help at all because you instantly crash when you try to view and edit core code like this. I'm just glad I can do the disassembly and reassembly without it."

[the-angriestpineapple]

brewed & beards - ch 2

Jobs are needed to buy food and Kiri finds out that Mina knows Bakugou.

Chapter Two - Groceries Aren’t Free

The first week of school was pretty exciting for Kirishima. He and his friends quickly realized that while the cafeteria options came with the food plan they had, the selection wasn’t that great. They enthusiastically bought groceries since Kiri was a passable chef – he felt like he had to be, considering what he wanted to do with his life – but there was one simple hangup with grocery shopping.

“We need jobs.” Mina announced as she entered their room without knocking. She flopped over Denki and Hanta’s legs, where they had been sitting on Denki’s bed.

“What the hell Mina, what if we were naked or something?” Hanta extracted his legs out from under their pink-haired best friend. Mina propped herself up on an elbow, resting her head in her palm.

“And why, pray tell, would the three of you be naked at four in the afternoon, together?” She grinned wickedly as Hanta blushed.

“You know what I mean!”

Mina rolled her eyes and slid off the bed (and her friends) to go throw herself on Kirishima’s bed. Kiri was cooking the last of their rice in a microwave rice steamer and miso soup on a small hot plate and glanced at her.

“She’s right guys. If we don’t want to eat cafeteria trash we have to get some jobs.” Kiri stirred the miso soup slowly, glancing from Mina to the boys. “I actually have an interview lined up at this chain gym up the road, so hopefully I’ll have one by tomorrow.”

“Good for you man! Maybe we should troll around town tomorrow and see what we can find too. I’m sure there’s gotta be some jobs we can get. I mean, who wouldn’t hire me?” Denki smirked and mocked fluffing his hair. Hanta shoved him, making him fall over on the bed. “Ow, hey!”

“Pikachu has a good idea though.” Hanta grinned at Denki, who was grumbling and rubbing his arm. Denki had partially earned that nickname when he dyed a stripe of black in his blonde hair, but mostly when tried to see what would happen if he touched an electric fence. Kiri thought Mina was going to die from laughing so hard.

Kiri beamed at his friends. “Yeah bros! You guys totally got this, anywhere would be super lucky to have you.” He pulled four rice bowls and four soup bowls from the small shelf over their microwave, ladling the miso out for his friends. “Now come eat something, and if I get this job tomorrow I’ll get something really good to make for dinner.”

“Deal!” Mina hopped up and grabbed the bowl, hissing lightly. “Ow, hot hot hot hot...” She gingerly sat crosslegged on the floor and put the bowl down. “Damn Kiri, do you know a food temperature other than lava?”

Kirishima shrugged and smiled, then began to spoon rice into the accompanying bowls. Once everyone had their food and Mina had dumped hot sauce on her rice, they ate their meager dinner together on the floor. Kirishima felt like he wouldn’t want to lose this feeling for the world.

---

He was hired on the spot the next day. His bright attitude and nice physique translated well into working the front desk, but his career goals and experience allowed him to also take on some easy clients as an (almost) personal trainer. Mostly just students who were just starting to work out, and he was mostly just spotting them and making sure they followed the routine the actual trainer gave them, but he was totally fine with that. He had to start somewhere! He decided to celebrate by going to the coffee house and getting a hot chocolate despite having actively tried to not set foot in there all week. Every time he thought about it, he saw a flashing pair of red eyes and his knees would get a little weak.

The door chimed as he walked into the coffee house and he moved up to the register, eyes immediately looking for Bakugo but not seeing him. Kiri couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Hey, welcome, what can I get you?” It was Jirou manning the register again, like last time, and Kiri fixed her with a huge smile.

“Hey! One large hot chocolate please.”

“And a caramel latte.”

Kiri turned to see the grinning face of Mina right behind him. He rolled his eyes but smiled and nodded. “And a caramel latte, also large.” He ruffled his best friend’s bubblegum pink hair and she grinned. He paid for the drinks and moved down the counter, where he could vaguely hear Mina asking if the coffee shop was hiring. There was someone else who seemed to be making his order so it really didn’t seem like Bakugou was here today. Kirishima inwardly sighed. Damn.

Mina bounced into his space and grabbed his arm. “Jirou hired me on the spot! I start tomorrow! They apparently really need the help.” She giggled and looped her arm into his. “How did your gym interview go?”

Kiri grinned and ducked his head. “Yeah, they hired me on the spot too. I will be doing some front desk work, and some training work.”

Mina squealed and landed a smack of her lips on his cheek. “That’s so great! You so deserve it! And now we get to have a good dinner tonight.”

Kiri chuckled and nodded. He pulled out his phone to skim through recipes, having an idea of what he wanted to make, so he wasn’t entirely paying attention to his surroundings. One would think he’d learn his lesson.

“Oh hey Bakugou, I didn’t know you worked here.”

Mina’s voice broke through his internal recipe dialogue and he looked up. Sure enough, there was the blonde, holding two large to go cups with one eyebrow raised at them. “Yeah, I do. Hot chocolate and caramel latte?” When Mina nodded he handed her the cups, and his eyes flicked to Kirishima. The heat that radiated out of them was almost too much, or was that just Kiri blushing? He really couldn’t be sure.

“You got a weird choice in girlfriends, shitty hair.” He remembered me! Probably not what Kiri should be focused on, especially after the words registered. Mina was already ahead of him though.

“Oh no, I’m just a best friend. I’m not really his type.” She grinned at the blonde, unwinding her arm from Kiri’s and passing him his cocoa.

“That so. Well, see you in chem.” He turned and walked into the back, and Kiri realized he wasn’t breathing.

“You… you know him?”

Mina nodded. “Yeah. He’s a chemistry major like me. He seems to be more fixated on making things explode though. It’ll be an interesting semester.” However she was giving Kirishima a very knowing glance, and he felt his cheeks flush harder. “Let’s head out, I want to see how Hanta and Denki are doing with their job hunting.” She deftly looped her arm into his and dragged him out the door. Kiri didn’t notice that Bakugou had come back out from the back room and was frowning as he watched them leave.

They found Hanta quickly, who had an interview at a copy shop. Denki took a little longer to find but he also had an interview at an electronics store. Mina immediately opened her mouth and Kiri slapped his hand over it. He knew she’d made some mention of the electric fence and he didn’t want Denki to get all strung out and nervous. He turned into a total idiot when he did.

“Congrats man, I’m sure you’ll get it- hey! Gross, Mina!” Kiri wiped his hand on Mina’s jacket. She’d licked him.

“So it looks like we all have jobs or are getting jobs! Yay us!” She punched the air with her fist, her cheeks flushing as pink as her hair. “Let’s go get some groceries for dinner! What are you making Kiri?”

Kirishima shrugged. “I’m not sure. You guys have any suggestions?”

Of course they did. The three shouted and fought over what they wanted Kirishima to make all the way to the grocery store.

[yxppeo]

cinderella

pairing: felix x reader

genre: fluff

au: dancer, high school, enemies to lovers

warning: slight bullying

summary: you hated his guts, but seeing him dance turned yours into butterflies

“god y/n, you’re so annoying!” felix shouted

despite being half a foot away from you

“maybe if you weren’t a dumbass and actually read the instructions we wouldn’t be in this mess!” you yelled back as you and felix were covering the top of a beaker

trying to prevent the chemicals from overspilling

“we were supposed to put half of hydrogen peroxide in this fucking small ass beaker, how hard is it to make elephant toothpaste?!”

“don’t you yell at me woman!”

“god why was i even assigned to be your lab partner for the rest of the year?!”

you squinted at him and moved your hands away from the beaker

causing felix to panic and put even more pressure on the rim

then chaos occurred

foam started to appear through his gloves

followed by the rest of the substance to burst through and fill the small tray the beaker was resting on

and some on felix’s lab coat

you smirked at him as you continued writing your report

he returned your smirk with a scowl

later that day, you settled at your locker

putting back textbooks you no longer needed for the day

the moment you opened the locker door

a string was attached to an object that laid onto a can of silly string, pressing it down

causing the silly string to be sprayed onto you

you gasped as you were covered in the sticky substance

next thing you hear a deep laughter coming from your side

you turn to see felix laughing at the sight of you

you groaned in anger as you wiped yourself clean

slamming your locker and stomping out the exit and on your way home

happy that it was friday

you went home and changed from your uniform into joggers and a plain white t-shirt

today was your first practice at a dance studio

you’ve been following them on social media

and the moment they were allowing more people to join

you couldn’t pass up the opportunity

you taught yourself how to dance

moving the couches in your living room to give you enough space to practice on the weekends

but now you don’t have to hear your parents yell at you to put back the furniture

you entered the studio, wearing a black cap and a mask with a nice floral print

feeling too lazy to take it off from having it on outside

after checking in, you joined a group of people that were piled into the back of one of the practice rooms

wearing similar attire to yours

“look, we got new students!” a deep voice called out

“they’re pretty cute, huh?” another voice called out

“minho, stop trying to pin over everything that has two legs and a mouth.” a third party joined

“shut up hyunjin.”

you look up to see three people in front of the mirrors

“wow they’re cute.” you thought to yourself, referring to two of the unfamiliar faces

but then you saw a familiar boy

a familiar, annoying boy

“hey guys i’m felix, this is hyunjin and this is minho. i guess we are your teachers for today.”

“that’s right. today, we will be teaching you some basic moves to show you the style of dance our studio showcases. let’s give you a little demo.” hyunjin added as minho got the music ready

the music started slow, which you found intriguing

but then it started getting a little faster

suddenly, the three dancers start popping to the beat

y’all better know that i’m talking about their skz-player video that shit was fucking art

when you saw felix flowing with the rhythm

your jaw dropped

“this boy is really good.” you thought as you watch him move

luckily your masked covered your blushing face as the people around you cheered for them

and when felix was in the middle

you couldn’t help but cheer a little louder than the rest of the audience

a bubbly feeling forming in the pits of your stomach

they ended their dance

that was instantly followed by cheering and clapping

including yours

“thank you! now we will be showing you the dance.” hyunjin announced

your group gasped, feeling intimidated

“we’re going to be splitting you guys into three different groups, and we will teach you our parts.” minho said

then, all three of them started picking out people from your group

hyunjin grabbed some of the taller guys

minho picked out some of the girls

felix was looking around to see who else he wants to teach

you were casually standing you felt a hand tug at your wrist

you look up

locking eyes with freckles himself

his eyes glistened along with the smile he gave you as he led you to his group

you started to feel the familiar heat burn your cheeks

a while later, you were in another room with felix and a few other people as he taught the dance diligently

although some parts were hard

you managed to pick up on a lot of them

you had an easy time moving your arms

which didn’t go unnoticed by mr. lee himself

you tried practicing the part where you had to lift yourself up with your upper body

you accidentally fell on your back

which caused felix to immediately run over to you

“are you okay?” he asked, hovering over your body

“do you want to take off that mask?” he added

your eyes widened as you looked up at him

you immediately got up and brushed yourself off

“i’m fine.” you said in a slightly deeper voice as you kept practicing

by the time practice ended

your group was halfway done with the choreography

“great job on your first day guys, see you next week!” felix said, dismissing your group

you were gathering your things when you saw a water bottle in front of you

you followed the hand that held onto the bottle to see a certain red head give you a small smile

“good job today.”

you took the water bottle from his hand and put it in your bag

“uh, thanks.”

“you’re not going to drink it?” felix raised an eyebrow

you looked at him

you knew what he was up to

but you can’t let felix know who you are

he would freak

“no, i’m fine, but thanks anyways.” you responded before turning towards the exit

“you’re a natural. i hope to see you again next week.” he said

you didn’t respond to him

walking out of the room

hopefully he didn’t see the eye smiles on your face caused by the smile under your mask

felix lee was definitely stuck in your head until the next day

you were at your locker

grabbing your things for the day when a figure appeared in your peripheral

you groaned

“what do you want yongbok?”

“hey that’s not my name!”

you turned to him

“whatever freckles. what are you bothering me with this time?” you exhaled

“do you have the answers to the homework that was due today?”

“what happens if i do have those answers?”

“can i borrow it?”

“no.”

“why?!”

“because you’re an ass.”

“that’s not a valid reason.”

“i’m not giving you my homework, freckles.”

felix looked over your papers and grabbed a few of them and bolted

“yeah you did, see you in chem!” felix said as he ran off with your hard work

you sighed to yourself in defeat

“and to think i thought you were cute.” you mumbled

the next few days cycled with felix being the usual annoying guy who can’t read lab instructions correctly

managing to get an ice volcano to explode onto you two

with you yelling at him to clean up the mess

and that next time you’re handling all the chemicals by yourself

felix would drop by your locker to steal your work

or to annoy you in general

“y/n, your answers from nine through fifteen were wrong, and now i have a c in the class!”

you looked at him with furious eyes

“well, freckles, maybe if you didn’t take my work, then you would’ve figured that it was wrong and change it like i did.”

“wait, you changed it after i copied it?! you purposely gave me wrong answers?!”

“don’t take my work asshole!” you shouted as you stomped out of the school once again

you took a deep breath and exhaled as you got ready for dance that afternoon

putting on your mask, you entered the studio

greeting the receptionist and entered the room you practiced in last time

you saw people warming up or talking to each other in the corners of the room

you noticed felix’s head pop up when you opened the door

you tried your best not give him death glares

you settled your bag into one of the lockers when you heard a deep voice echo into your ear

“still sporting the mask?”

you jumped a little, slightly turning towards a chuckling felix

“i never got your name.” he added

you gulped

“uh...” you started

but before you could answer, an alarm went off

felix took out his phone

“saved by the bell.” he said as he got up

“okay guys, let’s get started.”

felix continued his lesson on finishing the second half of the dance

you focused on the dance moves, paying attention to felix

noting every time he would look at you from the mirror

you felt a little nervous when he would flicker his eyes from himself to you

gladly, you were able to learn the rest of the dance by the end of the lesson that was running really late

when your group decided to run through the whole thing

you were the only one who was able to finish it without struggling

“not bad guys! just a little more practice and you’ll get it perfectly, have a nice night!” felix said, watching the rest of the group chug down their bottles

felix approached you

“how did you get all of that in two nights?” felix asked, sounding amazed at your fast learning

you chuckled

“i guess i had a really good teacher.” your muffled voice responded

making felix’s freckled cheeks a peachy color

“are you sure you don’t want to take off that mask? it’s getting a little hot and you need to breathe clearly.” felix said as a hand got closer to your face

you pushed his hand away

“i’m totally fine.” you said as you got up quickly and ran out the door

“wait! you dropped your...” felix started to yell, slowly becoming quiet as he approached a fallen object

he held it up to his eyes to see a charm of a small plastic beaker with green plastic filling it halfway

he turned it around, catching the light

he raised an eyebrow

“huh...”

monday came again, ready to start another dreadful weak of school

you rubbed your eyes as you yawned

walking towards your locker and slowly putting in your combination

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.” felix smirked

you squinted your eyes at felix

“someone won’t stop being annoying today.” you spat back

“you look like a mess y/n, you okay?” he said as he tried to fix your tangled hair

you swatted his hands away

“why do you care freckles?”

“i’m just worried.”

you sighed

“i can’t tell him i went to his dance lesson that lasted the entire night. how is he even awake right now?” you thought to yourself

“i studied past my bedtime.” you let out an excuse

felix snorted

“of course you did you nerd. catch you in chem.” he said, turning around

you watched him walk away, when you noticed a charm hanging from his backpack

you looked closer

to find your beaker charm swinging from the zipper

you widened your eyes

“shit...”

by the time your chemistry class started

you were panicking

“how the hell am i supposed to get that back?” you thought to yourself as you tapped your fingers rapidly on your textbook

you felt a hand on top of yours

you look up to see felix looking at you

“can you, uh, stop? it’s getting annoying.” he said as he let go and sat next to you

“you’re one to talk.” you scoffed

“seriously are you okay? you’ve been acting weird today.”

“why are you so concerned lee?”

“i’m not.”

“if you aren’t, you wouldn’t be annoying me like you always do.” you said a little loud

felix put his hands in the air“fine, be that way.” he said

let’s just say that period was really quiet and awkward between the two of you

not just for the day

each day passed by

and felix kept his distance between you

only taking notes when the teacher lectured

and stayed silent when you two worked on a lab

honestly, you hated it

you needed the loud felix back

the loud and annoying felix

okay

maybe not that annoying

but one that would keep talking to you

you missed freckles

and you dreaded the upcoming friday for your dance lesson with him

you paced around your room

“i should tell him.”

“just do it y/n, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“wait, he could freak out and run away.”

“or tease you.”

“or fucking kick you out.”

you fell onto your bed

screaming into your pillow

you had to go to that studio

you entered the studio with your usual apparel

mask – check

hat – check

anxiety going through the roof – double check

you were warming up when you saw a red haired boy slumping through the door

“hello felix!” the class greeted him

“hello.” he bowed back as he set his backpack down

with you eyeing the small beaker

“maybe i’ll just try to take it back without him noticing. yeah, sounds like a plan.” you thought

you stayed calm as he tiredly went over the dance again, helping other people polish their moves

you followed his moves

“good job.” he said, giving you a tired smile

you nodded at him

the lesson continued as usual

ending with your group going over the whole dance one more time

hyunjin and minho came in to watch

and it’s safe to say your group did an amazing job

“amazing improvement guys!” felix beamed

“that’s it for today, have a good night everyone!” he dismissed

everyone dispersed to gather their things

“now is the time.” you told yourself as you quickly approach his bag that was resting near yours

squatting in front of it

you tried to quickly untie the string that kept clinging onto the zipper

“are you kidding me?”

“what are you doing?” a voice scared you as you jumped back

landing on your butt

“uh...”

“is that charm yours?” he said, pointing at the small object

you nodded

“i noticed you dropped something last week, so i kept it for safekeeping. you know you could’ve just asked for it back.” he chuckled

making you chuckle back nervous as he gracefully untied it and handed it back to you

you grabbed your bag and placed the returned charm in it

you got up and tossed your bag over your shoulder

“thanks freckles!” you said as you started to walk away

“what did you just call me?” felix’s deep voice stopped you

“shit.”

felix ran in front of you

“what did you just call me?” he repeated

“i didn’t call you anything.” you brushed off

“you just called me freckles.”

“so you can hear all of the sudden?” you said back quickly

“y/n, you’re the only one who calls me freckles.”

“y/n, who’s that?”

“why are you so stubborn?”

you gulped

felix slowly removed your hat

revealing your eyes that looked right at him

“well, you have her eyes.” he joked

felix then took both of his hands

and pushed back your hair behind your ears, tugging the strings of the mask off

revealing the rest of your face

“you have her nose and lips too. you have her whole face actually.”

“shut up felix.”

“when were you going to tell me?” he asked softly

you looked away

but felix wasn’t having it as he moved your head by your chin

making you look at him

“why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

you inhaled

“because...”

felix raised an eyebrow at you

“because you would freak out. and maybe even tease me for taking a dance class. i didn’t even know you dance here!” you said, whining at the end

felix giggled

“why would i tease you? sure i would’ve been confused as to why the smartest chemistry student is doing at a dance studio, but hell, you’re also an amazing dancer. even when i didn’t know who you were, you caught my attention on how quickly you were able to learn the moves and have your own grace in it.” felix rambled

“...wait did you just call me the smartest chemistry student?”

felix placed a hand on his face

“not my point y/n.”

“what is it then?”

“my point is that i love you.”

“you what?”

“suddenly you can’t hear either huh?” felix laughed

“god fucking damn it felix lee. the moment you were caught in the music, my stomach did something that even science can’t explain. i had butterflies from the guy who loves to annoy me, and it frustrates me.”

felix leaned it

“news flash, that’s because you love me too.” he whispered in your ear

“yeah and i hate you for that.” you said, pressing your lips onto his

felix immediately responded by deepening the kiss, holding your waist

you pulled back to breathe

as felix looked at you with sparkling eyes

he was so in love with you

you two stayed silent for a bit

“i’m sorry for getting on your nerves at school.” felix started

“sorry for snapping at you earlier. you really shouldn’t keep people up so late.”

“oh so i’m the bad guy in all of this?”

you nodded

“definitely, freckles.” you laughed, giving him a peck

felix rolled his eyes

“why do i even like you?”

[pocketsizedsamwinchester]

Self-Protection at Its Finest.

Pairing: Dean x Sister!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning: Mentions of Rape and Sexual Assualt.

You were never a one for hunting. You preferred academics over the physical labour of hunting. Your brothers, Sam and Dean, insisted on you learning how to protect yourself.  You didn’t ever think you would need to know how to do it until today.

“Y/N. See me after class.” Your biology 3201 teacher, Mr. Dixon, called out very abruptly.

The entire class was silent and you started to go red in the face as he signalled you out. What did you do to deserve an after class meeting?

“You got it, Sir.”

After class, you packed up your books for your next class, Chemistry 2202, and met Mr. Dixon at his desk.

“You wanted to speak to me?” You nervously asked, wondering what warranted this conversation.

“Your last test mark was a little low.”

“I had a family emergency and I wasn’t totally focused.”

Sam and Dean had arrived home from a hunt the night before your test, each of them bloodied and bruised, each needing medical attention. You played nurse, which ate into most of your studying time, resulting in a seventy on your test instead of your usual nineties.

“There’s one of two things you can do to make up for that mark.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

You’d love to erase that mark from your final grade.

“You can do a redo test. I’ll make up a separate test that you can rewrite next class.” Mr. Dixon suggested. “Or…”

You wondered what the pause was for. Mr. Dixon let his eyes fall to your chest and he licked his lips. You immediately knew what he meant and you started to back away from him.

“I have to go to my chem class. Ms. Williams won’t be happy that I’m late-”

Mr. Dixon grabbed your wrist, “I’ll tell her you had to run a couple of errands for me.”

Despite your efforts to run away, your teacher pulled you closer, leaning in to kiss you. You let yourself get close enough that you could hoist your knee up to make contact with his crotch. Swiftly and nearly effortlessly, considering all the training Sam and Dean put you through, you kneed him and rushed out to the hallway.

“Stay away from me!”

You raced out to Ms. Williams’ classroom, hoping and praying that would be the last of Mr. Dixon for today.

“And why are you late to my class, Ms. Winchester?”

“I-uh-Sorry. It won’t happen again.” You were audibly and visibly shaken.

“Okay, just take a seat, Y/N.” said Ms. Williams softly, letting your tardiness slide.

She continued to teach her class. Around twenty minutes later, the entire class was still copying down notes upon notes, all about the polarity of molecular compounds and how it affected the solubility of that said compound when there was a loud knock at the door. Ms. Williams opened it, revealing a very impatient looking Mr. Dixon.

“Can I speak to Y/N Winchester?” He made direct eye contact with you.

“Well… sure.” Ms. Williams also looked at you. “Y/N?”

You looked at Ms. Williams with pleading eyes. As if to say ‘please don’t let me go out there with that pervert.’

“I was already late to this class, I-I don’t want to miss anymore. Can we talk later?” You asked nervously.

Friends and classmates watched you as if it was a tv drama, waiting to see how it would all play out.

“No, Y/N. Now.” Mr. Dixon grumbled, frustratedly.

You looked at Ms. Williams again. Something about your pleading look caught her eye this time and she tried to usher Mr. Dixon out of the classroom. You knew if you left this room, something was going to go down- either you were going to get hurt or you’d kill Mr. Dixon.

Teeth- long, pointy teeth grew down over his normal, rounded human teeth. Mr. Dixon clenched his jaw and let out a low, guttural, animal-like growl. And as if like a rabbit, he leaped from the doorway to the top of a student’s desk. All the students in that row, including yourself, jumped up from their seats. Mr. Dixon stood up on top of the desk, kicking one student’s books down onto the floor.

“You made the wrong choice, there, honey.” Mr. Dixon laughed sinisterly.

What were you going to do? You didn’t have a machete on you. Only your small, silver blade which you kept stashed away in your boots. That wouldn’t be enough to slow the vampire down.

Mr. Dixon started walking on top of the desks, sending notebooks, binders, pens and pencils flying across the room. You grabbed the blade from your boot, prepared to wield it as the monster that you called a teacher got closer to you.

Trying to ensure the safety of all the other students in the room, you screamed, “get out! Everybody get the hell out!”

As Mr. Dixon got closer to you, you swung the blade at him, nicking his neck. He winced and it only temporarily slowed him down.

“What do you think that is going to do, Winchester?” He laughed. “I’m going to carve you up and bring your mutilated body home to your dear old brothers.”

“I should’ve known you were a monster.” You growled, backing up as fast as Mr. Dixon was advancing towards you.

Think, Y/N, THINK! What can you use as a weapon?  It’s a godforsaken chemistry lab- there’s got to be some corrosive chemical that would burn the skin off a vampire. You rushed into the chemicals room, grabbing the most basic corrosive acid you could see. Hydrochloric acid. You turned around and launched the entire bottle of hydrochloric acid at Mr. Dixon. The bottle smashed and started to burn the skin of the vampire. At first, it didn’t phase him but when it really started to seep into his sink, he started to yelp. That gave you enough time to rush to the other side of the classroom. You grabbed the biggest volumetric flask you could find and knocked it against a lab bench. You wanted it to break but not into a million pieces. You were hoping to get a shard that was bigger than your blade- big enough to slice into that monsters neck and hopefully, sever his head from his body. The flask broke, giving you several pieces, a few big enough to cut into Mr. Dixon’s neck. If that didn’t work- you would need a plan B or maybe- No! The glass would be your plan B once you found a long knife in one of the dishwashers situated on the side wall of the chemistry classroom. You figured Ms. Williams used it to separated harmless chemicals. The vampire, who was basically recovered from the corrosive acid you sprayed him with, was now rapidly rushing over to you. If you timed it perfectly, in one swift motion you could behead the rabid monster. Alarms sounded through the PA system.

“Could all teachers please lock your classroom doors. A lockdown is in progress.”

The alarm didn’t stop Mr. Dixon from jumping over desks to get to you. You remembered what Sam and Dean always told you

“Stay calm, Y/N. Just take a deep breath. Look your enemy, watch their every move. It’s all about predicting what the monster is going to do next, calculating when and how hard to strike them- even if it’s just enough to subdue it and not kill it.” Dean’s calm voice sounded.

“If you don’t think you can do it, just remember that Dean and I believe in you.” Sam encouraged.

“Your life depends on this training. If you so much as even hesitate for half a second, that monster could tear you open and eat your guts for dessert-”

“Dean!” Sam cut yours and his older brother off. “You’re going to scare her too much. Don’t listen to Dean, Y/N. If you do everything we tell you, you’re going to be just fine.”

“Plan your moves in advance, Y/N, be unpredictable. Your enemy can’t know what you’re gonna do next or else you’ll be dead meat.”

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed. “Enough of telling her She’s gonna die!”

The rest of that lesson consisted of your brothers arguing over the best way to teach you on how to keep your focus when fighting a monster. You knew exactly how to take this vampire down. You waited, predicted,  calculated then executed- perfectly- you might add.

“One vampire head, coming right up.” You muttered to yourself.

Dean would definitely be proud! That night, Sam looked you over, treating your chemical burns that you received when you pulled the cap of the hydrochloric acid.

“You’ve got to be so careful, Y/N,” Sam exclaimed. “You could’ve been hurt way worse than you actually were.”

“Oh, shut up, Sammy. Our little sister is all grown up! Her first solo-vamp-takedown!” Dean grinned. “I’m proud of you kiddo.”

“Thanks, Dean. If it wasn’t for you guys, I would’ve been raped- or worse, dead.”

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N.” I’m sure you would’ve figured a way to get yourself out of that situation.” Sam smiled, kissing your forehead. “There, all cleaned up.”

You would always be thankful for Sam and Dean. They took care of you once your father died, considering they were considerably older than you, Dean was 23 and Sam was 19 when you were born, and John died only three years later. You were glad to have two big brothers who implemented the importance of self-protection. If they weren’t so dead set on at least teaching you how to fight, you would’ve died today. You were glad to come home and spend another night with the two men you loved the most- Sam and Dean Winchester.

[talesfromthesnogbox]

Oooo an angsty el/mike fight

OH MY GOD I’M SORRY IT TOOK LITERALLY 6 MONTHS TO WRITE THIS. OKAY, here it is, I hope you like it!

CHOOSE LOVE

Summary: Mike Wheeler is finally going to fess up and ask the love of his life to the prom, but he wasn’t exactly expecting her to turn him down and completely shut him out. Where did he go wrong?

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2,858

For seventeen years, El kept the biggest secret of her life. To her friends, she was the Chief’s daughter from Chicago. The two of them moved to Hawkins when she was seven, and the rest was history. But she wasn’t that girl.

El wanted to be the strong girl everyone thought she was, not the frightened child that ran away from her home in a lab when it got to be too much. She didn’t want to be the girl that skipped town with her adoptive father and a whole new identity. She never asked to be the girl with powers.

She wanted to be the girl her best friend Mike saw her as.

Mike.

He wasn’t just her best friend, he was her everything. Her shoulder to cry on when she and Hopper got into fights, her tutor when she didn’t understand the lessons, her non-judgmental ears when she suddenly got a great (stupid) idea.

Okay, so maybe El was a little bit in love with him, but she’d long accepted the fact that they’d never be together. They were best friends, and it was never going to happen.

“Never say never, Ellie bear.” Her stepbrother Will was always on her case about Mike.

“I’m saying never in this situation. He probably thinks of me as a sister.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “Trust me, guys talk to each other about this shit too. He does not think of you like a sister.”

She flushed pink. “Like I said, never gonna happen. I don’t even like him that way anyways.” El didn’t feel bad about lying to Will through her teeth. He wasn’t one to pay any mind to gossip, but when it came to his friends’ happiness, he was the first in line to hear and overanalyze every word.

“Okay sure, whatever you say. I guess I’ll just have to tell him not to ask you to Homecoming after all.”

“Wait, Mike’s gonna ask me to Homecoming?” She felt a flutter in her stomach.

“He was planning on it. But if you don’t like him that way, better not crush his heart.” El’s heart sank. It’s better this way, she thought to herself, he isn’t going to want you when he finds out what a freak you are.

Mike woke up that morning with a mix of nerves and excitement. Today was going to be the day he asked El to Homecoming.

The teenager couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up inside anymore. Of course, he was terrified of being rejected, but his heart told him that El would accept his offer, and maybe they’d finally be more than just friends.

“Well aren’t you cheery this morning.” His mother noticed Mike’s unusually sunny disposition at breakfast.

“I just have a feeling it’s gonna be a good day.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with a certain girl and a certain dance coming up does it?” His mother raised her eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

Mike rolled his eyes. “None of your business, mom.”

“She’ll say yes, I’ve seen the way El looks at you.”

“How did you—”

Karen’s smile grew wider. “Ha! I knew it was El.”

He sighed loudly, picking up his bag. “Bye mom.”

“Go get her tiger!”

“BYE MOM.”

Sure, Mike was El’s best friend, but every time she saw him on that fateful day, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that something was going to happen.

“Morning El!”

“Um, hey Mike.” She paid him no attention as she rearranged the textbooks in her locker.

“C-can I talk to you for a sec?”

El floundered for a moment until the first bell went off. Saved by the bell. “Sorry, I’ve gotta get to English, huge test this morning.”

“O-okay. Good luck.” She ran off down the hallway leaving him alone and confused. El had never been so distant, they’d been relatively close since the day they met… something was wrong.

His suspicions were confirmed when she didn’t show up to their regular table at lunch.

“Where’s El?” Dustin asked, taking a seat beside Max.

“She wasn’t feeling well when I saw her in chem this morning. I think she went home.” Max shrugged it off, rambling on about “girl stuff”; her voice faded away as Mike sank into his own thoughts, his own worries about El.

He stood suddenly and packed up his lunch.

“Where are you going?” Lucas asked.

“I’m going to call her to make sure she’s alright.”

Mike put a few coins into the payphone in the hallway and dialed the Hopper’s number. After three rings, she picked up.

“El! You’re home. I heard you weren’t feeling well.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Do you need anything? I can bring it over to you, my mom gave me the car.”

“I don’t need anything Mike. Please, just… I don’t want to talk to you.”

El forcefully hung up the phone, leaving Mike in a daze. Why doesn’t she want to talk to me? The party didn’t question it when he rejoined them at lunch.

All day, Mike couldn’t get her out of his head. I don’t want to talk to you. Her words rang through his head, the ghosts of so many unanswered questions boggling his brains. He thought through every interaction, looking for where he went wrong, second-guessing himself in everything he did.

It’s because I’m annoying.

I baby her.

I assume she doesn’t know something.

She knows I’m in love with her.

She thinks I’m weird.

I’m not good enough for her.

It had been a fear of Mike’s since he realized he had feelings for El, but he never wanted to admit it to himself.

The rest of the day dragged on, and Mike hated himself more and more as the time passed. His mom’s countless questions during dinner didn’t help, and eventually, he buried himself in his room.

By the time 11pm came, he knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but nothing was bringing him out of his funk.

I need to talk to her.

Mike jumped out of bed and dressed, tiptoeing to the car. He drove quickly but carefully, and soon enough, reached El’s home on the outskirts of town.

His heart pounded as he threw pebbles at El’s window, hoping to not alert the neighbours. Six pebbles in, El finally showed herself.

“Mike? What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry, I just… I just needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Go home.”

“No! No, El, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry, but you need to tell me what it is, I need to know what I did wrong. Whatever it is, I didn’t mean to hurt you, or upset you. Please, just… talk to me.”

Neither of them could hold back their tears. El’s window closed, and suddenly, Mike felt helpless again. He’d lost her.

Until, she opened the front door.

“Hop’s working the night shift.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek and opening the front door to invite him in.

Mike followed her into the living room, where she sat first on the loveseat with crossed arms.

“I’m not mad at you.”

A weight lifted from Mike’s chest hearing those words. “Thank god. El, I spent all day thinking about what I did to hurt you. I thought you hated me…”

“I don’t hate you, Mike. I could never hate you.” El’s voice was small, and she kept her eyes carefully trained on the floor, but a gentle hand under her chin brought them to Mike’s.

“H-homecoming? I-I mean… I sound ridiculous, sorry. El, will you go to homecoming with me?”

She closed her eyes, a single tear dropping down her cheek. “I can’t.”

The air left Mike’s lungs. “Oh. A-are you going with someone else?”

She shook her head. “We can’t, Mike. I’m not good for you.”

“El… El don’t say that.”

“I’m not a good person Mike. I’ve hurt people.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was outraged, hearing her speak about herself like that. “El, you are the most selfless, caring, beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re incredible.”

“No!” She raised her voice. “You don’t know me, you don’t know who I really am!”

“Okay fine, show me who you really are then.” He snapped back.

El hesitated, her voice wavered when she spoke. “I can’t.”

With those words, everything came pouring out of Mike. He couldn’t even stop to think before saying the words he’d been so nervous to say. “Why not El? I love you, I love you for who you are, how do you know I won’t love you with whatever flaw you’re hiding from me?”

El’s heart soared. “You love me?”

“Yeah!” He finally stopped to take a breath, the gravity of what he’d just told her weighing down on him, yet simultaneously lifting the weight from his chest. “I’ve been trying to tell you that all day El! But you ignored me, and I thought I did something to you. I was terrified.”

“You were terrified? Mike, I want this, I want to love you, but I can’t. I’m terrified—”

“Of what, El? Tell me, please help me understand!”

Her heart pounded, she could hear her blood rushing in her ears, and suddenly, the furniture started to shake. She felt like a brick was in the pit of her stomach, but she was floating a foot above the couch, blood rushing from her nose. “El?”

Oh fuck. El couldn’t control herself, and she started sobbing, mid air, as Mike stared. “Of this Mike! I’m a freak, this is what I’m terrified of.”

Mike’s mind was reeling. He was frozen in place, wanting to pinch himself (this had to be a dream, right?), but couldn’t find a way to move. He was speechless, and he felt horrible about it. All he could do was gape at El as she cried.

“You don’t want me, I’m a freak.” El sobbed again as she slowly floated back down with the furniture. Mike’s instincts told him to say something, so he did.

“El… El you’re not a freak.”

She looked at him incredulously. “Um, you just saw what I did, right? How can you say I’m not a freak?”

“I-it’s… what you did was out of the ordinary, sure, but…”

“I’m dangerous Mike. I’ve hurt people before, killed people.” She didn’t know why she was telling him all of this now; she absolutely didn’t want to elaborate on her past at that moment. “I’m not who you think I am.” Her voice sounded small again.

“Listen, El.” He took a seat beside her on the couch, gently guiding her eyes back to his. “I… my feelings haven’t changed just because you can float… and make other things float.”

I can do a lot more than that, more dangerous than that, she thought to herself, letting out a hasty breath. “But, Mike I lied to you.”

“Not really, you just held back the truth. El, if you’re really afraid of hurting someone, you’re protecting yourself, you’re protecting us, your friends.”

“But I’m dangerous, I’ve hurt people, I can hurt you too Mike, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mike closed his eyes. “You won’t hurt me, El. I love you, I want to be with you, and I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But what if I do?!”

“Th-then I get hurt.” He was a little frightened by how much he meant it, but he didn’t want El to think he was afraid of her. “El, do you not want me, do you not want us? It’s okay if you don’t, really, if you don’t like me like that, we can pretend all of this never happened.”

She looked at him, a sad glint in her eye. “Don’t you get it? Of course I like you like that, that’s why I want to protect you. It would be selfish of me to let you love me knowing I could hurt you Mike.” Tears started to steadily stream from her eyes again. “I’m sorry, I know I must look like a kid in a toy store that can’t get what she wants.”

He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it lightly. “El… you should be selfish. I’m not afraid. I love you, I want this, and I think you want this too.”

El shifted forward, wrapping her arms around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Mike shivered as her ragged breath hit his neck. “Mike… if I say okay, do you promise to leave the second I get too dangerous?”

“I can’t promise that, El. I want to be there for you if things get tough.”

A broken sob left her chest. She should be pushing him away, but everything inside her told her to hold him close. He really loved her, more than she ever thought anyone could.

“Mike…” She trailed off, pressing a feather light kiss to his neck. She pulled back, away from him, and forced a watery smile. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but god I want it. I really want to be with you.”

“Then do it.”

El leaned forward and carefully kissed Mike. Her heart sped up, butterflies erupted in her stomach, and even though they parted just as quickly as they’d joined, their first kiss was magical.

Mike was awestruck for a moment, but soon enough the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile. El smiled back shyly as he wiped away her tears.

“So… that happened.” Mike bit his lip.

“I love you.” El giggled. “I’ll be your homecoming date as long as we get to do this more often.” She kissed him again, this time more boldly, pulling his bottom lip between hers. Mike gasped slightly into her mouth and gave himself over to her, losing himself in the kiss.

He felt like he was floating, it was incredible and – wait… I’m floating?

Mike pulled back to look around, and sure enough, he and El were floating a solid five feet above the couch.

“Hey El, I love you, but do you mind putting us down?”

“Huh? Oh! Oops, sorry.” She blushed, sounding apprehensive. Her heart sped up, and she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe she was too dangerous to let herself love him. But the way Mike’s face broke out into a smile when she met his eyes brought her so much joy. “I um… kissing you just kind of makes me feel a little light headed.”

Mike smiled and pecked her lips again. “Me too.”

El snuggled up to him like they’d done on countless occasions as their bottoms hit the couch once more. The couple sighed contentedly as they basked in the warmth of each other.

“I… it’s late, I should go.”

“Do you have to? Hop’s working till six, and I know your parents go to bed early.”

Mike looked down at her, his expression teasing. “Not an hour ago you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah, well…” El trailed off and kissed Mike, hoping to distract him.

He pulled away, shaking his head. “I love you, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a rough day.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” El weaved their fingers together, knowing he was right. It had been a long, emotional day, and the only thing she wanted more than Mike was her bed. “I love you too.”

Hearing the words from El’s mouth made Mike’s entire body buzz with happiness. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay with her, especially after the emotional night they’d just had, but he did have to leave.

They drew out their walk to the front door as long as they could, both exhausted, but not wanting to leave the other’s side. “I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise. And maybe we can… I dunno, grab dinner and go see a movie?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you asking me on a date, Wheeler?”

“I—I mean… I guess—”

El cut him off with another kiss. “Of course, dinner and a movie sounds great. Now off to bed with you, big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled and couldn’t help but kiss her again. “Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

El watched Mike walk back to his car with a dreamy expression on her face. She was worried of what may happen, worried for the future and Mike’s stupidly protective nature. She bit her lip wondering if they were doing the right thing as he backed out of the driveway, but then, in true cheesy lovesick style, Mike stuck his head out the window, looked her dead in the eye, and yelled out, “I love you El Hopper!”

An involuntary giggle escaped her, and she blew him a kiss before closing the door. What they were doing may not be the right thing, and maybe she would end up hurting him, but she knew that in her heart, no matter what happened, she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t choose love.

[bts-writes]

three beers and one wrong number

au: you text the wrong number and jesus christ you sent some embarrassing texts thank god the other guy is nice (and sounds cute) (from this link!)

featuring: kim namjoon

genre: fluff, a little bit of angst (just a pinch, really)

words: ~1.3k words

You hastily grabbed your new phone out of your front pocket, making sure not to drop it this time. Being the clumsy dumbass that you were, you dropped your phone last week in a Starbucks toilet, which refused to be resurrected by the ever-so-reliable rice immersion technique. And it worked for your ipod and ipad quite a few times before! But alas, your phone just completely gave up. And so, a million apologies to your mom later, you got a new one and were now back to normal programming. But of course, with a ton more care this time around.

You typed in your friend’s number and then proceeded with your message. You snickered to yourself in the first floor hallway of the Chemistry Building, as you relived what happened in your class a while ago.

“Lmaoooo bitch guess what” “professor Kim asked for my notes at the start of class bc he wanted to refresh last week’s lessons” “and all I wrote there was “im so fucking sleepy” i kid u not! and i did it in calligraphy too!!!” “AND HE SAW!!!! HE FRIGGIN SAW AND HE LAUGHED AND SAID “me too we both need caffeine”” “IM . DIE”

You then locked your phone, put it back into your pocket, and proceeded to walk to your dorm room after the quite embarrassing yet actually kinda cute Organic Chemistry class.

Hours later, you checked your phone and was met with slight disappointment when the screen showed no replies from your friend. “Maybe she’s busy”, you thought to yourself and then went back to reading the material for tomorrow’s Philosophy class. Hume wasn’t going to rise from the dead and teach you, anyway.

“jinah let’s go watch captain marvel”

You frowned, staring at the text you sent over four hours ago. You and Jinah, your friend, never made it a point to miss the Marvel movies. You both absolutely loved them and spent hours figuring out the ending to the ongoing Phase 3 of the MCU. Jinah bet Steve was gonna die; you bet Tony was. Despite difference of opinion, you agreed on one thing: you both wished to the high heavens you were both wrong.

You checked the time again. It was nearing five hours now since you sent the message. And to be honest, this radio silence was getting kinda weird ever since it started three days ago.

“my treat! just reply and say you’re not dead” “come on, i’ll even buy the milk tea” “if u don’t go, pepper dies” “miss pepper potts! our girl! MISS IRON WOMAN HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE!” “along with peter parker NOW COME ON”

Okay, fine. Jinah didn’t want to reply, so you were just gonna see the movie for yourself. Miss Carol Danvers was waiting.

“Park Jinah, use your goddamn phone.” You slowly blinked at your phone screen, with still zero replies after the twenty messages you sent her earlier today. Since the whole ignoring-you-even-with-captain-marvel-on-the-line incident two days ago, you decided to give her space. Maybe Jinah was going through something you didn’t know about; hell, maybe she dropped her phone in the toilet like you did. But today… today was kinda difficult.

You put down the nearly empty bottle of Smirnoff you had been holding on your desk, right beside the two empty ones. Today, you had deigned to drink alone in your dorm room, and bought three for yourself.

You slowly scrolled up the conversation, rereading the messages you sent her earlier.

“jinah i saw him again today” “he’s still as cute as ever” “and before u say anything, i’ve moved on” “it was just… weird” “like i know i don’t love him anymore” “and the what-ifs are pointless i know” “but my heart still feels like it’s being pricked, just a little” “like i miss him” “idk” “maybe one day it’ll finally go away yeah?” “i’m gonna go get beer i hate remembering him”

You stared at the bottle labels. Maybe three Smirnoffs weren’t enough.

“Ah, screw it. I’m gonna call you, bitch, even though you hate unannounced calls”, you muttered out loud to no one in particular, as the soft light from your bedside lamp gave the room a hazy comfort.

Your phone began ringing and ringing.

“Pick up, you lil shit”, you muttered again before grabbing your beer and finally finishing its contents.

Finally, the line opened.

“Hey! Park Jinah! Why have you been—“ you coughed from the sudden yelling, “the past week! Ignoring me again and again!” You were met with silence, which just honestly ticked you off even more. “Answer me!”

You heaved your upper body on your desk, sighing out loud. “Cha Eunwoo, that bastard. I… I saw him today. Jinah, y-you heard me, right? Eunwoo! God, he’s still so—“

“Um… excuse me.” A very deep voice that was definitely NOT Jinah’s interrupted you.

You sat straight up. Suddenly, it felt like the liquor you just downed was out of your system, and only awareness of the fact that you may have just been contacting the wrong person all week remained.

“This isn’t… Park? Was it Park? But, um, this is not Jinah.” The other voice, you assumed belonged to a guy, gently said.

“Shit, shit, shit”, you whispered to yourself. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! Why haven’t you said anything? I’ve been spamming your phone with texts for the past week, oh god.” You quickly uttered an apology, silently wishing for the ground to swallow you whole. It didn’t help that you actually called him, drunk on liquid courage, and ranted about your ‘ex’!

“I don’t know, I just thought you’d figure it out sooner. Sorry!”

“No, no. I should be the one saying sorry, Mr. uh… What’s your name?”

“Namjoon.”

“Ah, Namjoon. Hi, hello, Namjoon. I’m so sorry. Really.” You ruffled your hair in frustration. “You must have been annoyed.”

He giggled softly and by gods, it was hella cute. “It’s fine. Your first texts were entertaining, actually.”

“And oh god, I’m even more sorry for calling you while drunk. I apologize for that whole ranting mess. That was stupid, don’t think about it.”

“No, it’s okay! I understand…” Namjoon seemed to trail off in thought. You waited in silence as it seemed he wasn’t done talking. “But for what it’s worth, I’ll tell you a little cliche: time will do the trick, yeah?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You said you wanted your heart to stop hurting? In your text?”

“Oh.” Right. You had sent those unbelievably emotional texts.

“It’ll go away. Just give it time.” He said, and for some bizarre reason, it actually felt like things were going to be alright. His strangely attractive voice gave you comfort and you didn’t even know him.

You smiled softly. “I hope so.”

“Okay, I’ll go now. But you remember to drink lots of water before bed, okay?”

He cared, that’s cute. “Yeap. Don’t worry, Mr. Namjoon.”

“Oh, yeah! I don’t even know your name. I just refer to you as “org chem nerd” in my head.”

You scoffed at your end of the line. “Ain’t that affectionate?” You were met with his laugh, which made you laugh a little in return. “I’m [Name].”

“Well, [Name]. It’s been nice talking to you. I’ll go now, okay?”

You nodded, not even realizing there was no way he could see you. “Okay. Thanks and sorry again, Namjoon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” And with another giggle, Namjoon hung up.

You stared at your screen for a few minutes, pondering over the events of the previous minutes. You didn’t even realize you were smiling.

a/n: let me know what u think! ehe

[you-guys--are-losers]

Promptsmas Day One: First Snow!

//This is for @spiderman-homecomeme​ and her Promptsmas prompts! I am so excited about it, and I wanna thank her for being a beautiful human!

**Special thanks for @im-just-bri for sending me the screenshots of this after I accidentally deleted it!

Prompt: First Snow

Peter has grown used to Michelle Jones over the past few months, in the same way someone acquires a taste for fine wine. 

In the first few weeks of their friendship, her sarcastic remarks and dry sense of humor caught him off-guard. he had not known what to do the first time she fell asleep on his sofa during a sleepover with him and Ned, and Peter had never quite known what to do when he could tell that she was upset about something.

But it only took a few months, because now, Peter is “fluent in MJ.”

Now, he is well-versed enough in her humor to be able to quip back, and he and Ned have gotten used to draping their friend’s preferred blanket over her curled-up, sleeping form. Peter knows now that when MJ is upset, there is only one way to fix it: chocolate chip waffles and TV-show marathons with her and with Ned.

All this said, even if it feels like they’ve been friends for forever, Peter and Ned have only been friends with MJ since the end of sophomore year. This means that there is one thing that the trio hasn’t faced together: winter. As it becomes colder, Peter begins to notice little things about MJ that he has never seen before. As the temperature drops, he adds more and more tidbits to the growing collection of what he knows about their brunette best friend.

He learns that for some reason MJ does not seem to think that she needs a winter coat. She uses hoodies and jean-jackets every day, as if they are perfectly capable of shielding her willowy figure from the cold, and she refuses to accept any offer of a jacket from Peter or Ned. She does own a scarf, though, as well as a pair of fingerless gloves. She almost never takes off the gloves over the course of the entire school day. though MJ gives no reason for this, Peter privately knows that he has discovered something else about her that he did not know about her before-- her hands are always cold.

There are other things he begins to notice, too. Hot chocolate stars to be used as a substitute for tea in the mornings, and every so often Peter and Ned catch a glimpse of fuzzy socks that have been squeezed into her combat boots. Doodles of mittens and scarves begin to replace MJ’s normal sketches of autumn leaves on the corner of her papers. But there is one thing that Peter cannot seem to figure out about her now: MJ is glued to her weather app.

Peter catches her on her phone a lot more regularly than she ever has been before, and she refuses to cite the reason. She isn’t talking to anyone, Peter is sure, because she never appears to be typing a text (not that Peter keeps tabs on her relationship status or anything, though). However, there have been several points in time that Peter has caught her refreshing AccuWeather in the middle of AP Chem.

It’s only when MJ completely drops her phone from excitement that Peter realizes what it is.

It happens on a Monday in fourth hour. MJ’s sharp gasp of excitement catches Peter by surprise, but what really causes him to pay attention is when the cracked iPhone 5 clatters to the floor. The phone skitters across the floor, spinning slowly until it comes to a stop at the foot of Mr. Cobbwell. The sound is enough to make Peter look up from where he is working on improving the web-fluid, and the entire class is looking up now, too. Cobbwell peers back at them with a look of disapproval on his face, one that causes MJ to tense beside him.

“Is something the matter, Miss Jones?” prompts the teacher, raising an eyebrow as he sets down the dry-erase marker he was using.

“No, I, um...” MJ says quickly, her eyes suddenly widening.

She seems to be frozen by all of the eyes in the class on her. MJ is normally one of the most relaxed people that Peter knows, but he also knows that she doesn’t always know how to handle attention. It even took her a while to get used to being noticed by Peter and Ned.

“I was grabbing something from her bag for her, and I knocked it out,” Peter speaks up, gesturing to the bag that is on the table between them. “It’s my bad, sir. Can I grab it?”

Cobbwell hesitates for a moment, but after a second his face softens. Peter knows that both he and MJ have a good standing with him, since Peter is the only one who laughs at his science puns and MJ returns one of her own every once in a while.

“Alright, Mr. Parker. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he decides, and Peter slides out of his seat in order to grab the phone with the worn, purple case. As soon as he has it, Peter returns to his seat and sits down beside MJ.

As soon as the lesson resumes, MJ glances back over at him with an acutely uncomfortable expression on her face. “Sorry,” she mutters, allowing a piece of hair that has escaped from her curly ponytail to fall into her eyes. “Thanks, Parker.”

She reaches for her phone, but before he hands it over, Peter turns it over and peers at the screen. There is a lightbulb moment in his head, and a smile plays with his lips as he passes it back.

“So, an 85% chance of snow on Friday, huh?” he comments as she takes the phone. He knows that the smug grin isn’t gone as she slides the phone into the pocket of her bomber jacket. He is pleased because he finally understands why she’s been on her phone so much, finally gets this one little piece of her.

MJ has been waiting for the first snow.

“Shut up, loser,” she instructs as she returns to her online notes. That isn’t enough to get peter off of her scent, though. He can see that she is struggling to keep him from noticing the rosy tinge of her skin, the reddened tips of her ears.

He doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the day, though Peter can see she is waiting for him to do so. Still, he doesn’t say anything in front of Ned, even though it’s become a habit of theirs to recap for him what happened in the one class the three of them don’t share. Ned is stuck next door in AP Computer Science, so he normally gets a play-by-play of the entire class... But not today. Peter lets her be lulled into a false sense of security over the course of the week as Friday rolls around, with all of its anticipation in tow.

Peter can see it in every inch of her body-- an excited sort of tension in her muscle, a skip in her step as she walks. Peter pretends not to notice it, but the gleam in her eyes is just enough to warm his chest a bit, despite the bite in the air. She is barely being subtle about her phone anymore as she checks the the hourly forecast, but this is to Peter’s advantage.

MJ is so preoccupied with her own phone that she does not see Peter doing the exact same thing.

It is scheduled to come during Chem, so Peter keeps an eye on the window the entire class period. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the sky of swollen gray clouds, clouds that are waiting to unleash flurries of thick snow onto the city. Peter can’t help but feel the childlike excitement brewing in his chest now. According to the app, it’s supposed to happen any moment, and the lesson has just begun. Peter’s mind has never been farther from thermochemistry.

And once he sees it, the subject matter flies out of his head, out the window, and into the air, which is carrying the first new, fresh flakes.

Peter glances quickly at the girl next to him, who is so focused on her phone that she has not noticed the flakes yet. It is then that Peter sneaks out his own phone and sends a quick text to Ned.

now.

Not even thirty seconds after Peter sneaks his phone back into his pocket, there is a flickering of the lights, and then the classroom is plunged nto darkness. There is a startled murmur that ripples throughout the room, and it is then that Peter acts.

“MJ,” he hisses as Cobbwell struggles to regain control of the class.

In the darkness, Peter can see the outline of MJ’s face, which is lit by the cool winter light coming through a single window. She does not even turn to him, still scrolling through her AccuWeather.

“What?” she hums. “Parker, in case you didn’t notice, we’ve just gone full dystopian novel, so it’s not the best time for me to help you with the homework problems. Maybe if you want to get ready for the Hunger Games together, we can talk-”

“What? No,” Peter interrupts, a grin forming on his lips. “Come on. We’ve only got a couple minutes to get out.”

“Get out?” MJ repeats, and now she’s looking up from her phone. “I was kidding, loser, not-”

“It’s snowing,” Peter states, dropping each word with equal weight, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

MJ stares at him blankly for a moment, and then a playful grin crosses her face. “No way,” she finally laughs under her breath, shaking her head. The laugh, the smile, cause his heart to skip a beat for some reason. “Even you two nerds aren’t that good.”

“Aren’t we?” Peter hums smugly, thinking about the time they completely hacked Tony Stark’s own spideysuit. “Come on. Do you want to go, or not?”

MJ peers at the open door, then back at him. One last glance is spared for the window, where the snow is coming down in increasing speed. Then, finally, she turns back to him.

“You first, then me,” she instructs.

Without another word, Peter says something to Cindy Moon about going to grab his homework from his locker. As he heads out, Peter can hear MJ asking Abe to tell Cobbwell that she had to go to the bathroom. He is out the door first, and then a moment later MJ practically materializes by his side with a bathroom pass in her pocket and a little grin on her face.

“Come on, before someone sees,” she instructs, and before Peter can fully process what’s happening, she grabs his forearm and begins to run down the hallway.

For some reason, as they run, blood rushes to Peter face. He has run down this hallway many times before-- to save people from a bus crash, to go and stop a robbery in progress, and even to fight with Liz’s dad. But this is a good reason to be running, and he is all too aware of the warmth that her hand leaves on his arm as they turn and sneak out one of the building’s side doors and onto the path to the football field.

For a moment, the cold air washes over them, and Peter can feel both of their muscles tense. Then, MJ tugs him father away from the building and into the openness of the courtyard behind the school. 

The snow is falling in thick, fluffy flakes that stick together in the air, forming chains of cottony, clumpy snow. They flakes are so large that they appear to be spun from sugar, the sort of snow that is everywhere in the air. It surrounds them, as far as he can see, falling so slowly that is seems suspended in the air. peter feels like he is inside of a snow globe with her.

MJ is frozen still, and Peter’s eyes travel to her face as she takes it in and ignores him completely. He doesn’t mind being ignored in the least-- he would much rather be free to study the childlike wonder in her eyes, the awe that is written into every line and curve of her face as she blinks, disrupting the flakes that have settled onto her long lashes.

For a moment, Peter can’t breathe, because she looks like she belongs here and nowhere else.

The snow nestles into her kinky curls, dusts her shoulders, and settles on her long lashes as she tips her face slightly up to the sky. For a moment, her eyes close entirely, and she seems to be drinking in the cold air and the caresses of the snowflakes as they fall down around her.

For a second, Peter wonders what it would be like to slide his arm away slightly, so she was gripping his hand in that same gentle grasp that encircles his forearm.

But then, her eyes open, and they are wild with excitement. “Come on!” she insists. “We have to do that lame thing where we catch snowflakes on our tongues. For scientific purposes.”

“Scientific purposes?”

“Gotta taste those chemicals the corporations are pouring into the atmosphere, Parker. Come on.”

And then, they spend a good ten minutes outside tasting the snow and letting it settle in their hair and on their shoulders. Peter knows it is borrowed time, that Ned is going to have to come up with a good excuse later and that he and MJ are going to have to be extra convincing when it comes to their return to class.

But none of that matters as Peter Parker watches Michelle Jones spin like a child in the center of the school courtyard, with snow in her hair and an easy smile on her lips. All that matters is that he gave her that smile, the one that drives away the winter chill and leaves him with only her warmth.