#plus he’s good at calculus so that’s another reason to hate him

[maidstew]

everyone always talks about how annoying and horrible Coriolanus Snow is but when will we focus on the real enemy? Urban Canville.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. ���I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[sweatersexual]

just some black ink on some blue lines (and a shadow you won’t recognize)

Read on AO3

Stan wished he knew what was going through Ford’s mind when he’d packed this box and shoved it in a closet. When they were kids, they’d insisted to their mother on cleaning days that the piles of the stuff in their room were organized, they had a system. Ford probably still had one, but Stan was no longer privy to it. He’d probably be annoyed with Stan for messing it up if - when - he got back.

But if Stan was going to turn this room into a gift shop, this closet would have to be cleared out. So he dug through the motley collection of vinyl records, books, part of a research paper, a jar of molasses, and a Cubic’s Cube, placing most of them in the pile of Ford’s things to be packed away and eventually returned to him. The book on Fifth-Dimensional Calculus, though, that might be helpful with the portal.

Two loose sheets of paper fell out as he flipped through the book. A letter, but not addressed to anyone. Still, Stan had spent enough time bent over that journal to know Ford’s handwriting back to front.

I’ve fallen in love with him, the letter read. I never imagined I could fall in love, let alone with a hog farmer from Tennessee, but he’s brilliant and charming and something electric runs through me every time we touch.

The confirmation that Ford was gay after all these years was hardly a surprise to Stan. He’d suspected Ford’s sexuality for about as long as he’d questioned his own. But Stan could never imagine writing anything so sappy about a guy he himself was into. Stan snorted as he continued reading.

I know you would tease me if I told you this in person. That’s only one of the many, many reasons I can never send this letter. But I feel like I have to tell someone about this or I’ll burst. Anyone else would think I was some kind of pervert. But somehow, I think you would understand.

I know we never talked about this, back when we still talked. We both knew how our father felt about men loving other men . . .

This letter was written to Stan. Ford had wanted to tell someone he was in love, and he had thought of Stan, even though they weren’t talking to each other. Ford must have picked up on Stan being bisexual in some way and known that it would have been safe to come out to him, if circumstances were different.

Well, he’d have been safe from homophobia. Safe from the usual brotherly mockery was a different story.

We both knew how our father felt about men loving other men, and his disapproval hung like a specter over everything we did. I know some psychologists would blame his overbearing nature for my current inclinations . . .

Overbearing nature, yeah, that was putting it lightly. “He’s an asshole,” Stan muttered to himself.

. . . but I can’t help but feel that if an overbearing father makes one queer, there would be a lot more queer people in the world. And psychology is a very inexact science anyway.

Stan had already figured, but it was nice to have someone as smart as Ford say that at least one of the theories people put out about why people weren’t straight was bogus. It didn’t matter why he or Ford loved men, because they weren’t about to change, and they weren’t hurting anybody. The sooner more people realized that, the better.

I’ve given up on analyzing why I feel the way I do about F. The fact that we have so much in common probably has something to do with it, but we didn’t always get along so well. When we first met a few years ago, I found his unique blend of hick and hippie mannerisms very off-putting. He thought me stuffy and intractable. Still, we managed to stand living together long enough to become close friends, and now, something more romantic in nature as well.

A few weeks ago, he insisted we take a break from studying. We drove out to the middle of nowhere and stargazed, something we’ve done several times before. Talking about space excites our imaginations. It has sparked many a conversation about the future, not just our own hopefully bright ones, but that of the world and humanity at large. This time, however, we got on the subject of how grateful we were to have each other in our lives. I’m a loner by nature, as you know, so connecting with anyone as well as I do with F is rare and precious. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than his lips were on mine, and I was reciprocating wholeheartedly.

When the kiss broke, he looked at me questioningly, worried, I think, that either of us would come to our senses and acknowledge the enormity of what we had just done. Instead I simply kissed him back. We’ve shared so many since then, and the close quarters of our dorm have proven too enticing to get schoolwork done without distractions. I’ve had to relocate to the library several times in order to get any real studying done.

That nerd. Of course his main concern about getting a boyfriend was how it would cut into his study time.

Despite how busy we are, we’ve still found time for things like walks around campus or daringly holding hands in the back of a dark movie theater. But mostly we’ve spent an increasing amount of time in each other’s arms back in our dorm. We made love last night. I’ll spare you the details, but I’ll have you know he’s just as considerate and patient in bed as he is anywhere else. Perhaps even more so.

Oh come on. “Considerate and patient?” That’s how you’d describe your waiter, not your lover. Had the sex not been that good? Not that Stan wanted to know the details, Ford had been right about that, but sheesh, Stan expected something more spicy than “considerate and patient.”

I can’t believe I just put that down on paper. Thank goodness you’ll never read this, you’d say I’m such a sap. I can’t help it, I’m in love and the only one I can talk to about it is the object of my affections. And as much as I do love talking to him about us, it would be nice, just for once, for someone else to know how happy I am, and why.

Yeah, Stan had been there before, when he’d dated guys who weren’t out. It sucked, not being able to introduce him to your friends, having to worry about who was watching when you so much as held his hand. So much of what was normal for couples just couldn’t be for you.

But sadly, disappointment is just as much a part of life as love is. You taught me that.

Stan winced. Ford had basically just called him a disappointment. Stan had known their father had felt that way about him, and Ford probably did too, but damn. Seeing it in writing like that still hurt.

Even F may leave me someday. As lovestruck as I am, I can still see the obstacles ahead of us clearly. I try not to let it taint my time with him now, much in the same way I still look back on our childhood fondly, even though it ended so badly.

I still keep that photo of us on the Stan-o-War, you know. F has seen it. He thinks we should talk to each other. I have no idea how I would even start. And sending this letter is still very much out of the question. Ma thinks you moved from the last address you gave her anyway. I would tell you to call her, but that would involve talking to you.

See you never,

Ford

Stan turned the letter over and sighed. Disappointment or not, at least Ford didn’t completely hate him. You didn’t write a letter like that to someone you hated. You didn’t keep a picture to show your boyfriend. You didn’t fondly reminisce on old memories. It sounded like Ford had considered reconciliation as a possibility, but not one he knew how to pursue. Stan could understand that. He had felt the same way.

Stan wondered if he had enough information to look up this F guy. Surely it wouldn’t be hard to track down a Backupsmore alumnus who’d been a hog farmer from Tennessee and had the first initial F. Maybe he was the owner of the smaller sized clothes Stan had found lying around the house, or of the vinyl records that didn’t seem to fit Ford’s music taste. Or maybe Ford had moved on from his college sweetheart and they belonged to someone else.

No, looking up F was a bad idea. Either he’d figure out Stan was impersonating his brother and ruin everything Stan was working for, or he’d believe Stan was Ford and Stan would have to pretend they had romantic history. Neither option was worth the hassle.

Stan ended up keeping the letter down in the basement with his brother’s journal. Whenever Stan reread it, he felt every minute of the decade plus he and Ford had spent growing apart. In another life, could they have shared those moments together? Could they have come out to each other in person? There was a whole relationship as adults they could have had, and maybe it was still a possibility.

Stan just needed to get that portal up and running.

[everybodyscupoftea]

cross me

pike jj x reader (plus cody and tyler)

in which your boys have your back

based on the song cross me by ed sheeran, chance the rapper, and pnb rock

JJ

JJ hated when you were seeing other guys. It cut into his time with you and in his personal opinion, none of them deserved you, your time, or your affection. He’d watched you go through hell with boys in his frat and in others. He’d seen you crying over them, raging over them, and embarrassed by them (though you shouldn’t have been, they weren’t worth it).

What JJ didn’t know was that you were never really happy with any of them. They were placeholders for the day you managed to work up the courage to ask JJ out. Every guy had something in common with him. The same build, same hair color, same blue eyes, etc. You didn’t even notice it until your roommate set you down and pointed it out.

One afternoon, you were in JJ’s room getting ready for a date. JJ was laid on his bed, hands behind his head, watching you focusing on not getting mascara in your eyeshadow. He laughed at your facial expression, “You look dumb as fuck,” he joked.

“Maybe so, but I look better than you ever could, so I’d hush it if I were you.”

“You’re right,” JJ conceded, content to give you the win, “So, who are you going out with tonight?”

“Some guy in my Calculus class, his name is Danny.”

“Sounds like a douche.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“True, but I know your taste in men.”

He wasn’t wrong. They were normally arrogant assholes, questionable taste for sure, but they kept things interesting at least. Before you could answer, you got a text from the guy coming to pick you up that he was outside the house and you sighed, capping the mascara, “Fuck, he’s here and I’m not ready.”

JJ sat up, “He’s not even coming to the door?”

“Don’t think so, they rarely do.”

He looked really bothered and stood up, “I think I’ll go have a talk with him.”

“JJ,” you warned.

Waving away your concerns, he walked toward the door, “Just want to meet him. If you start dating him, he’s going to be around anyway, may as well get to know him.”

There wasn’t really much you could do to stop him, you weren’t even dressed yet, so you resigned yourself, “Yeah, just don’t scare him away before we even go out once.”

-

JJ walked out the door into the crisp air, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he regretted not bringing a jacket. He came to a stop at the car parked right in front of the house and knocked on the window until the boy rolled it down, looking confused.

“What’s up, bro, I’m JJ.”

“Um, hey, I’m Danny.”

“You’re here for my girl?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Your girl?”

“Yeah, you’re taking her out tonight.”

“Oh, um, yeah, guess so. Didn’t know she was seeing someone, sorry.”

“No, we’re not…we aren’t together, she’s my best friend.”

Danny gave him a weird look and crossed his arms, “She’s never mentioned you.”

JJ tensed defensively, “Doesn’t matter if she has or not. Just know, that if you hurt her, in any way, you’ll be answering to me.”

“Bro, chill, it’s not that serious.”

“Bro,” JJ mocked, “it is that serious. You fuck with her and you’re fucking with me, so I’m telling you, don’t.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Whatever dude, jealousy isn’t a good look.”

“It’s not jealousy, it’s loyalty, and if you can’t spot the difference now, you’re in trouble.”

Before Danny could answer, you came speed walking out the door. JJ whirled around and smiled at you, “Lookin good, bud.”

“Always do,” you joked back.

He walked you around to the passenger’s side of the car and opened the door, shutting it behind you softly while Danny watched, weird look on his face.

“Have fun,” JJ told you, in an almost mocking tone, and you just missed him point two fingers at his eyes and then at Danny. You did notice Danny tense and followed his gaze to JJ who was standing innocently, hands back in his pockets.

“You alright, Danny?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you told him with a grin.

Tyler

Tyler normally didn’t pay attention to petty shit at parties, but there was something about the way the group of boys was talking, glancing at you and your roommate cleaning house at beer pong, every so often. He slid over closer so he could hear.

All he heard was “hot piece of ass” and “bet she gets around” and “Maybank has a claim on her, but I heard he’s not doing much about it.”

Tyler stiffened and asked, “Who are you talking about?”

The boy closest to him jumped, “Oh, no one.”

“I know you’re lying, so I’ll ask again. Who are you talking about?”

The boy stuttered, “Um, it’s not really important. It’s just like, locker room talk, you know?”

Tyler sighed, “Yeah, well we don’t talk about women that way here, so you’d better knock it off or I’ll knock you out.”

“Just as bad as Maybank,” one of the boys on the outskirts of the group mumbled but Tyler heard him.

“Say that again.”

The boy looked uncomfortable, but he squared his shoulders, “I said, just as bad as Maybank.”

Before Tyler could say anything, you and your roommate let out a loud yell, and you said “Get the fuck out of here, how many times do I have to beat y’all before you realize you suck!”

Your roommate pulled you away from the table, sufficiently tipsy and well on your way to drunk, and passed you off to Tyler with a, “Bro she’s getting messy and my boyfriend is picking me up in a few minutes.”

You leaned into him, reaching for his beer. He handed it to you with a chuckle and you drained it, setting the bottle on the table near him.

Tyler wrapped an arm around you, “You good, babe?”

“All good, could use another drink though. You gonna be my partner now?”

“No. But I will keep you company.”

“Fuck yeah,” you cheered, “my best friend.”

You were too focused on Tyler to hear the boy, but Tyler heard the mumbled, “So they pass her around then. How do I get in on that little friend-cest action?”

“Show some fucking respect,” Tyler spat at him, finally having heard enough.

Your eyes widened at his hostile tone, “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, dismissing it, but one of the boys spoke over him, “What’s it gonna take to- “

Another guy clapped a hand over his mouth and said, “Nope, we’re not doing this, he’s drunk and he’ll regret getting his ass kicked in the morning.”

You blinked up at Tyler, “Is he being a dick?”

“He is.”

“Ah, men.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, but don’t worry, I won’t let them say shit about you.”

You wrapped an arm around his waist and smiled, “My hero. I know you’ve got my back.”

“I do.”

“Now, hero, you down to go get more drinks?”

“Lead the way, I want nothing more than to be your bartender for the night.”

Cody

When you showed up at the house, in tears, the last person you wanted to see was JJ. The girl he’d been seeing had been sending you shit on Instagram, for no goddamn reason other than that she was just fucking mean.

Cody was leaving when you arrived, and he stopped as soon as he caught a glimpse of your face. He put both of his hands on your shoulders, “Bro, what’s wrong.”

“Fucking Brooke is what’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think, “Who? Oh, the Phi Mu that JJ’s seeing?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed.

Cody squeezed your shoulder, “What happened?”

“She’s been harassing me on Instagram and shit. I don’t know, it’s been a long fucking morning and I go on Instagram to see a DM saying none of your friends actually like you, you piece of shit and it was just too much.”

“The fuck?” Cody asked, holding his hand out for your phone.

You handed it to him, and he unlocked it with his thumb, scrolling immediately to your Instagram. As he read, his grip tightened around your phone, and when he tried to hand it back, you pushed it away tiredly, “Keep it honestly, I’m so tired.”

Cody slid it in his pocket and nodded, “No class for me, we’re going to get lunch.”

“No, don’t skip class for me.”

“Attendance isn’t mandatory, trust me, it’ll be fine.”

You sighed and followed him to his truck. Throwing your bag into his back seat, you buckled up, holding your hand out for his phone to plug into the aux. Glancing at him, you asked, “What are you feeling?”

“Not picky.”

“Sad playlist time,” you muttered, scrolling through Cody’s Spotify to find where he’d followed your playlist.

Hitting shuffle, Cigarette Daydreams started playing and you threw your head back as Cody started backing out of the driveway, headed to your favorite burrito place. When he parked, Cody looked over at you, “Honestly, you’re fucking awesome, don’t let these girls get you down, yeah?”

You teared up a little and got out of the car, wiping your eyes. He threw and arm over your shoulder and the two of you walked toward the door. Unfortunately, stepping inside, your eyes immediately found JJ and Brooke sitting in your usual booth.

Cody tensed, “Gonna tell them to fucking move.”

“No,” you told him, “let’s just get it to-go and we’ll go somewhere else. She’s ruining the vibes here now.”

With a laugh, Cody nodded, “Sure, we’ll just ignore them.”

It didn’t work because JJ saw you both and caught your attention as you tried to exit, “Guys, come sit?”

“No,” you told him, pulling Cody behind you.

JJ looked hurt and the girl smirked at you, “Let her go, JJ, it’s fine.”

“Hey,” Cody cut in, “don’t you dare speak to her.”

Eyes widening, JJ looked between the three of you in confusion, “What’s going on?”

“Ask Brooke,” you spat at him and started walking toward the door again.

Cody pointed at her, “I’m telling you, knock that shit off. We’re in college and you’re acting like a high school bully.”

“Need people to fight your battles now?” Brooke called after you.

You didn’t even bother to answer her, just kept walking, not really in the mood to deal with any more of her shit. Faintly, you heard Cody tell JJ, “Your little girlfriend is talking shit. Tell her to knock it off.”

With a slight smile, you pushed the door open, Cody at your heels. Grabbing his hand, you squeezed, “Thanks for the backup.”

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” he said, squeezing back, “may as well be me.”

[annabethy]

percabeth zoom calls!

“Babe! Do you know where my charger is?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, adjusting her computer screen so that it was facing her. Percy bangs around in the kitchen some more, for what she suspects is his charger, before he starts cursing, and she suspects he stubbed his toe on the corner of the counter like he’s done five times in the last week.

“Are you okay?” she asks after another minute of loud cursing, poking her head out from his bedroom.

“I’m just getting it all out before the students see.”

Annabeth leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know they made you that mad.” Percy snorts, coming up in front of her to wrap him in her arms. He kisses her forehead before responding. “They make me livid.”

“Couldn’t possibly be as terrible as my kids,” she argues, smiling when his lips catch hers. “My calc kids can’t even do simple algebra.”

“I can’t do simple algebra,” he says, biting her lower lip. “That’s why I teach marine.”

“Marine is the most boring thing you could’ve possibly chosen to teach, but okay.”

“Says the walking calculator.”

Annabeth pinches his butt and he yelps.

“That was a compliment!”

“Make it sound like it next time,” she says, retreating back to his room. “I know that you finished teaching for the day, but I haven’t, so stay quiet.”

“That’s no fun.”

“You want to know what’s no fun? Having your students find out that you’re hooking up with their math teacher.”

Percy grins. “Is that what this is? And here I thought we were actually dating.”

“We won’t be if they find out because I will kill you,” Annabeth threatens without malice. She takes a step back to retreat into his room and he takes a step to follow her, which sends alarm shooting through her mind. “What are you doing?”

Percy has an amused smile plastered to his face, and she knows she’s about to be fighting whatever he decides to say next.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Uh, no you’re not.”

“It’s my bedroom.”

“You shouldn’t have invited me then,” Annabeth says, eyeing him as he keeps following her. “What are you, my shadow?”

“I can be whatever you want me to be, baby.”

It’s so disgustingly cheesy but it’s also so disgustingly him that she can’t help but give in as he settles down onto the bed. Percy flips onto his stomach, reaching for the pillow she’d been using the previous night as Annabeth sits at his desk. As he turns his head towards her, his eyes trace over her, and she has to pretend not to notice, as though the red flush of her face didn’t give her away.

Percy’s hand reaches out to squeeze her knee to get her attention, and she feels butterflies in her stomach. They had been together for more than a few months now, and they’d been best friends for quite a while longer, but the way he looks at her never ceased to make her feel this way.

“I’m turning the class on,” she mutters, the corners of her lips twitching up. Percy making a motion to zip his lips, making her snicker.

It’s only a minute before someone’s joining the class and Annabeth’s snickering for an entirely different reason.

“Piper,” Annabeth says, laughing. “What are you wearing?”

“I like to think that I am wearing Gucci,” Piper says, posing over the camera. “What do you think?”

Annabeth has to stifle her laughs at her favorite student. “I think it looks… very original.”

“Why do I feel like that means you think it’s trashy, Ms. Chase? Do you think it’s trashy?”

Annabeth shoves Percy’s head out of frame as he tries to sneak a peek at Piper’s outfit. “To be fair, you are wearing a trash bag.”

“I am insulted that you do not know the difference between a trash bag and a plastic tarp,” Piper says.

Percy grunts as Annabeth shoves him backwards onto the bed again in an attempt to keep him out of camera because she is almost one-thousand percent certain that Piper would recognize him, and considering they were in the middle of a pandemic, Piper would also know that they had been staying together for a while. Annabeth loves Piper, but Piper has zero filter and absolutely will make a comment if she knew.

Eventually, a few more students join, and Annabeth spends time talking to them, trying not to burst out laughing at Percy’s mouthed remarks making fun of her students.

(“Your students are dumb as hell, Annabeth.”

“You are so lucky that we are on mute.”

“How do they even mess up ten plus seven?”

“I literally don’t even know.”)

Annabeth just tries to get through the hour without walking to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and murdering herself with it. She really loves her calculus students, but someone once said that the smartest people lack the most common sense, and boy, that could not have been more true.

She thinks she’s in the clear. She makes it through the entire lesson without blowing her cover of staying with their teacher, and it’s actually much more exhilarating than she would’ve expected. It was like she was hiding some dirty secret from them as she avoided eye contact behind the camera and tried not to awkwardly jerk around when his hand found its way back onto her knee, delicately tracing shapes.

Annabeth is so close, and just as she’s getting ready to say goodbye, Piper just has to open her big mouth.

“Ms. Chase?”

“Yes, Piper?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

Annabeth blinks, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She suddenly feels as though something is about to go very, very wrong. “Depending on what it is, I may or may not answer.”

Over the screen, Piper keeps a straight face, but Annabeth has taught her for over three years, and she recognizes the fire in her eyes.

“Earlier today, I had a class with Mr. Jackson. Did you know I’m in marine science?”

“I did not,” Annabeth says, strained.

“I’m in marine science, and, uh, we had class earlier today over zoom. I was talking to Mr. Jackson for a little bit after.”

“Were you? That’s nice.”

“Yeah, Mr. Jackson is a super nice teacher. I think you’d like him.”

“Do you now?”

“Mh-hm. Anyways, we were talking, and I told him that I liked the painting that was hanging behind him.”

Annabeth freezes.

“It’s the same painting that’s hanging behind you.”

Oh god.

“Do you have something to tell us?” Piper asks.

Annabeth’s ears begin to ring as she realizes that she is inevitably screwed. Of course Piper would have no shame in outing her to the entire class of seniors because that was just how Piper was, but Annabeth should’ve been smart enough not to film in the same spot because she knows her students well enough to know that there is a torment of sex jokes about to come her way.

“You’re looking a little bit red there, Ms. Chase.”

“What exactly are you implying, McLean?”

“Why are you in Mr. Jackson’s apartment?”

Annabeth is so mortified that she cannot move, but Percy seems to be just as shameless as Piper because a second later, he’s hopping into frame, smiling widely at her students.

“Hey, Piper!” Percy chirps.

“Mr. Jackson! So nice to see you! Why is Ms. Chase in your apartment?”

Percy clicks his tongue. “Now, that is a good question, but the most simple answer is that we’re quarantining — is that a word? — together.”

Annabeth sees Leo unmute himself and she immediately drops her face into her hands.

“Well, well, well,” Leo tsks. “I didn’t know we were studying chemistry right now.”

“I will make you do integrals,” Annabeth threatens.

“I’d like to see you try,” Leo has the audacity to say.

Another student unmutes themself and Annabeth recognizes the voice as Reyna’s.

“I am disgusted to find out that my teachers are dating,” Reyna says.

Percy lights up. “Reyna! You haven’t been showing up to my classes!”

“Mr. Jackson! That is because I simply do not care! Also, I would’ve preferred to not know that you two are living together.”

“Me too,” Annabeth mutters.

“Are you dating?” Piper asks. “I’ve always wanted you to date.”

Annabeth’s eye twitches. “I— no, Piper.”

“We’re not?” Percy frowns. “I thought we were.”

“They don’t need to know that,” she hisses.

Percy, always a people pleaser, pointedly kisses her on the cheek. He was always able to brush things off with a laugh, and it’s something that made Annabeth fall in love with him, but right now, it was something she thinks he would be better off without.

“They don’t care,” he dismisses, turning towards the camera. “Yes, we’re dating! We’ve been dating for six months now.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s so cute!” Piper exclaims.

“I want to throw up,” Reyna says.

Leo gives an impish grin. “I felt my relationship senses tingling.”

“Shut up, Leo, no one cares,” Piper says, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Chase! I’m so happy for you! You guys should get married.”

“Way to jump the gun, Piper,” Percy says. “Give us another six months at least.”

“Also, now that we know you two are staying together — we aren’t stupid. We know what adults do when they’re alone, so just try to keep that off camera, ‘kay?”

Annabeth is actually going to drop down to the ground and cry in about two seconds. Piper wasn’t particularly wrong in her assumptions, but Annabeth did not need her students to know about her personal life in this much detail!

“Don’t think we don’t know about what you do when you’re alone with Jason,” Percy teases, and Annabeth actually chokes on air.

“But we’re not teachers—”

“Okay!” Annabeth interrupts, ready for this to be over. The can see the rest of her students screaming in chat, and she does not want to be here to witness this any longer. “I’m going to end this call now. Please never speak of this again.”

“I will bring this up tomorrow!” Piper says cheerfully, waving at them. “I—”

Annabeth clicks off the screen immediately, and the room goes silent.

She stays there with her head buried in her hands for a while, Percy’s hand still running up and down her back. His fingers curl as he scratches her skin languidly, waiting for her to get over her initial embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Annabeth mumbles into her hands. “That was awful.”

“It wasn’t as bad as you think it was,” he assures.

“They’re never going to let us live this down.”

“They didn’t care,” Percy says, holding back a snicker. “At least now we can kiss in front of them.”

“You’re never getting any more kisses from me,” Annabeth says, standing up from the chair to try and walk the humiliation away.

Percy grabs her wrist, tugging until she looks him in the eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Annabeth is so flushed that she wants to die, and her students now know about her current living status and have their own conclusions as to what they do when they’re alone, but the way he’s looking at her makes her feel incredible.

She tilts her head as she looks at him and he does the same. There’s a fire in his eyes as he challenges her.

“I’m not going to kiss you right now if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Percy bites his lower lip, whole body shaking with laughter. “You so sure?”

Annabeth takes a step back as Percy takes one forwards. She finds herself cornered against the bed with nowhere to go. She turns back to face Percy, and she only has one second to prepare before he’s grabbing her and falling onto the bed beside her.

“Percy,” she says, jerking around when he started tickling her. “This isn’t — funny!”

Percy kisses her neck, fingers moving her shirt up slightly to grip her sides. “I think it’s hilarious. Your students found out you have a boyfriend. So what? You’re human.”

“Stop,” she says, snorting and jerking again as he squeezes and palms her stomach.

“Kiss me.”

Percy’s fingers stop moving along her skin as he hovers over her, looking deeply into her eyes. She feels so warm and loved, laying here with her best friend, and he’s the complete opposite of her, but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s for moments like this, to balance her out.

And as she kisses him, she thinks that she can complain about her invasive students and cursed zoom calls later because the only thing that matters right now is making sure he keeps kissing her like she’s the only thing in the world.

[taleofharrison]

We can try | Luke Hemmings

Summary: Reader realizes she might be wrong about the idea he had about Luke. (College!AU)

Warnings: none really

Requested: Idea given by @girl-toxxic​

Word count: 1559

A/N: not sure if this is what you wanted but I like the way it. Also I’m crying over superbloom it was pure art and it was beautiful also Luke studies engineering as a major because I saw on twitter or here don’t remeber exactly that he was good at math and I think engineering involves a lot of math so yeah but whatever enjoy.

MASTERLIST HERE 

It had been a long month you had to change college because your dad got another job in other state and your family wanted you close to them changing school wasn’t hard since you had great grades it’s not that you were a the typical nerd cliché who avoided parties and everything that was fun you just had your priorities clear and partying wasn’t on the top of the list. It was hard to believe but you found a perfect balance between college fun and your studies.

You knew that adjusting to new teachers, new classmates and new buildings would be hard you felt nervous and anxious luckily on your first week you met Ashton who happened to share a class with you he even took you to the building where the class would take place he was nice and kind to you so when he told you he was part of a fraternity surprised a lot.

Your feelings had been hurt badly by a boy who belonged to one he was sweet at the beginning then his true colors showed and the relationship quickly became toxic and though you’d denied it, he was one of the reasons you agreed to transfer plus studying in California didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Would you like to come to a party this Friday?” Ashton asked out of the blue as you two walked outside the classroom “my fraternity is organizing it”

“A party? At your frat house?” you questioned again “I don’t think that’s a good idea I have to study-”

“Don’t try to play the cliché nerd card here” he cut you off “I’ve seen you partying and honestly I don’t how you keep your grades”

“As flattered as I am by that” you smiled “I try to not hang out around frat boys anymore you’re an exception”

“Just because an asshole dude broke your heart it doesn’t mean all of us are like that” he said “Come on it’s gonna be fun bring a friend or two if you want and my friends are nice”

“Fine I trust you” you sighed in defeat. “I’ll be there”

“Awesome!” he giggled “guess I’ll see you there”

The day of the party came and you thought on making up an excuse not to go like you were sick or something but you just couldn’t bail on Ash he looked so happy when you agreed and he was one of your best friends. So, you decided to put on a little make up and just have fun.

When you got to the party Ashton rushed to hug you a red solo cup filled with what you thought was some kind of spiced punch he guided you through the crowd to meet his best friends.

“This is Michael” he pointed at the DJ and he just nodded in your direction “and this is Calum but I’m sure you’ve seen play football he’s the team captain”

Calum hugged like if you had been friends for a long time “Ashton talks a lot about you is great to finally meet you”

Aston chuckled at his friend’s behavior “Mind if I leave you alone? I have to look for someone”

“Not at all” you smiled “I think I’m going to get a drink”

You crossed the dancefloor to get your drink you recognized a guy there dancing, you’ve seen him around, he was on the football team with Calum you’ve never talked to him you only knew his last name was you knew who he was, you knew about his reputation he was really popular among the girls on the campus which only made you surer that you had avoid him.

“Hi” Luke spoke to you making you turn to face him “I’ve never seen you in my frat parties”

“Observant” you rolled your eyes “I’m just here for a friend”

“And would you like to go I don’t know somewhere a little bit more private?”

You were more than ready to turn down his offer when Ashton’s voice interrupted your encounter with Luke.

“Awesome now you’ve met all my friends” Ashton exclaimed wrapping around your shoulders.

“He’s your friend?” you questioned with wide eyes.

“Yeah and one of my best friends I must say” he said nonchalantly “now we can all hang out together”

Ashton left you alone once again this time with Luke “So you’re the famous Y/N Ashton always talks about…guess I’ll see you around” he chuckled once again.

Weeks have passed since the party and your friendship with Ash and his friends, however you had a wall you didn’t really put that much effort on getting to know Luke which hurt him he wanted to get to know you too, you seemed to be a pretty cool girl from what he could get.

A groan left Luke’s mouth once again “I can’t any of this mate” he complained to Calum.

“Then what did you choose to study engineering?” Calum asked clearly amused by his friend’s frustration.

“I don’t know it sounded like fun when I started” he answered “what am I gonna do? The finals begin in a month and I’m not getting any of this calculus shit”

“I can ask Y/N to help you” Ashton shrugged “she’s pretty good at this”

“Do you think she will?” he asked “she doesn’t seem to like that much”

“She’ll do it if I ask her” Ashton assured “and I know she even helps the classmates she dislikes; she likes to help”

“I guess that could work” Luke sighed “thanks mate”

Luke was the first on to admit that maybe he didn’t give a first good impression at the party plus people often talk about him in the hallways but he was heartbroken and he thought that maybe a bunch of girls and parties might help him out but he was wrong he realized that now, he realized how unhealthy it was and he had been trying to be and feel better.

You told Ashton you could start classes with Luke the next day, you wanted to make the most of this and to end with this quickly as time went by you found yourself getting to know Luke and you’d denied but you were thinking that maybe you should’ve been friends with him since the start. He even learned your coffee order so every time you met up to study, he already had yours.

“Why?” he asked out of the blue one day.

“Why what?” you questioned frowning not following what he meant to say.

“You always hang out with my friends, but you just try to avoid me or ignore me” Luke explained “my question is why, you seem to hate”

“I know you Luke, don’t wanna get hurt”

“You barely talk to me how can you say you know me?” Luke scoffed.

“You are the kind of guy who’s sweet and charming but at the end of the day girls are just another game for you to play”

“I get it now” Luke said connecting the dots together “some boy broke your heart and now you think I’m like your ex”

“Oh, and you aren’t?” you retorted.

Luke abruptly closed his book and picked up his stuff getting up from the table.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you demanded “Luke we haven’t finished”

“Oh, I think we have” he replied “You don’t know the first thing about me”

“Luke your exam is in a week and we still have to review-“

“Forget about it” he interrupted you “I think I can make it on my own thank you”

Needless to say Luke didn’t show up to the rest of your study sessions it disappointed and broke your heart just a little maybe you were wrong, maybe you shouldn’t have said those things, maybe you misjudged him.

A week after the finals Luke came to your apartment you were pretty shocked when you saw him with your coffee order in hand, but you let him in anyways.

“I brought you this” he said giving you the coffee “I hope you haven’t changed your usual order”

“It’s perfect” you smiled “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t seen you around” he shrugged “which is weird since you’re always with my mates and I wanted to tell you that I got 80% in my calculus final and I’m sure it could’ve been higher if we had kept studying so thank you for that couldn’t have done it without you”

“It was nothing” you said “I like to help”

“I also want to say I’m sorry” he said “I was rude to you and you just wanted to help and-“

“I should be the one apologizing” you interrupted him “I misjudged you and I should’ve gotten to know you more I shouldn’t have assumed you were like my ex”

“In your defense I didn’t give you good first impression at that party” he said “you were heartbroken you just wanted to protect your heart, I get it been there”

You nodded looking down.

“Let me make it up to you” he offered “let me take you celebrate I didn’t fail calculus because of you let’s get a drink”

“As in a date maybe?” you teased.

“If you want it to be a date…”

“I’d like it to be date” you said making you both smile.

[ksj-com]

Request #1

One Night, Two Parties

- Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

- Genre: Highschool!AU, Enemy2Lover!AU, smut

- Warnings/Tags: (kinda) slow burn, alcohol mention, drug mention, party competition, flashing, partying, arguing, rough kissing, hickies, neck kissing, wall sex, rough sex, protected sex, fingering, slightly drunk sex, shirtless Jungkook

- Word Count: 6,015 words

- Summary: You and Jungkook have been popularity rivals for two years, and you don’t want to admit it’s just because you’re jealous of how easy he can make friends. You’ve been planning a party for the past week now only to find out that Jungkook has a party happening today as well. This is your time to show him who’s boss at this school by having a competition on who has the most people at their party.

|| To read Jasmin’s story with Namjoon, click here ||

     The sound of chalk on the board made the palm you were leaning on more and more comfortable by the minute. Equations with unknown meanings sprawled across the green slate in front of the classroom. The teacher has his glasses drooping to the brim of his nose; he was so in-the-zone that he wouldn’t even glance back to the class to explain what he was writing. 

     On the other end of the room, your eyes were beginning to become out of focus as you daydreamed about tonight. Maybe you’ll get plastered enough to bring someone in your room tonight and get freaky. The imagination of your mystery man slowly pulling your sticky clothes off and kissing all over your bare skin made you purse your lips together to keep yourself contained. Sex wasn’t a huge part of your life like some of the girls that you went to school with, but you couldn’t help the occasional daydream. Especially under the circumstances, it being the last and most boring class of the day.

     A piece of paper bounces off your head from behind and snaps you out of the fantasy you built inside your head. Knowing exactly who it was, you roll your eyes and ignore it. You close your eyes to hopefully catch a few zzz’s before class ends. Another paper bullet hits your head, making you annoyed enough to turn around. The boy sitting behind you, Yoongi, passes you a note. His face was clearly just as annoyed as yours from his note-taking being disrupted. You grasp the paper and open it up to see what’s inside.

     ‘You ready for the banger tonight? My house.’ You read the words written in terrible boy handwriting. You look around behind you to meet eyes with Jungkook. He smiled deviously at you in return to the scowl on your face. He really thought he was going to take tonight from you and be smug enough to invite you to his own party? Not happening.

     You flip the paper over to write your own note for him to see. The anger pushing through the pencil a little too hard seeing how it broke under your fingers when you were done writing. ‘Too late. People have been knowing about my party since the beginning of this week. Parents are out of town and everyone’s getting fucked up. Best party of the year for sure.’ Being satisfied with what you wrote, you turn back around and hand it to Yoongi to pass to Jungkook. Yoongi makes sure to show you how you’re being annoying by rolling his eyes before passing the note back to Jungkook.

     You turn back around to be slapped in the face with the gibberish written all over the board. Calculus was a bitch and you’ll regret not copying down the notes later, but you didn’t have the energy to care about it right now. Surely someone else will send you pictures of the notes over the weekend for you to copy down anyways.

     Jungkook didn’t hand you back a note until after the bell rang. You were placing your notebooks back in your backpack while Jungkook slid the note on top of your desk. You immediately unfold the paper to read ‘We’ll see about that then.’ You look up to see him by the door looking back at you, him making a throat cutting motion and a wink before walking out the door. You roll your eyes and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Yeah I guess we will.

     There was always a tension between you and Jungkook ever since he was new sophomore year. He instantly made friends from doing absolutely nothing other than being slightly attractive, at least that’s what every girl here thought. On the other hand, you were popular from actually being involved in extracurriculars, still having a social life, and not being a bitch. You couldn’t help but feel a bit envious at how he showed up out of no where and took your spot in people’s lives. It’s now senior year and your feelings for him haven’t changed. You both hated each other.

     “I just can’t believe he thinks he can ruin my party by throwing his own, like, I swear he goes out of his way just to ruin my life!” you rant as you looked at yourself in the mirror. A light green, skinny strapped, cropped tank top with a high waisted black skirt that ended at the middle of your thighs. You looked at yourself proudly. Playing sports and being active kept you in shape and you had a pretty set self esteem, so wearing tight clothing didn’t bother you. You had already freshened up your makeup, applying some dark nude lipstick as well. To complete the look, you let your straight hair fall around your shoulders.

     “Listen, I think you’re a tad over dramatic. Yes, it was a dick move to plan a party when he probably already knew you were going to throw one, but who cares? We’re gonna be loaded with shit that I doubt he will be, so who’s house is everyone gonna choose? Yours,” your best friend, Jasmin, crosses her arms while meeting your eyes in the mirror. She always knew how to cheer you up and make you confident in anything you weren’t. She was your ride or die to say the least. You’ve known her throughout your highschool years, and unlike most of your close friends, she’s always been by your side. “Now move bitch, so I can see how I look,” she laughs and pushes you aside.

     She fluffed up her blonde curly hair, inspecting her blue eyes and freckled face. You watched her; she was absolutely gorgeous. “Plus, I doubt he knows anyone over 21 around here to get him anything he wants like we do. Hobi should be coming any minute now to give us our deliveries,” she shrugged, her step brother was always willing to plug anything you guys wanted for your parties. Although she was right and comforting you, the thoughts in the back of your mind couldn’t help but resurface.

     “You’re right. I guess I’m just over thinking it,” you watch her. The roles now switched as she looks at her outfit now. She turns around with a smile planted across her face as she approaches you.

     “So...your eyes set on anyone for tonight?” she wiggles her eyebrow. You can feel a laugh rise in your throat as your unrealistic daydream replays in your mind. She must have noticed your cheeks flush when you told her no one because she didn’t believe a word you told her. “You’ll get a little frisky when you start drinking anyways, so I guess I’ll find out what you’re getting all red about later,” she jabs your side.

     “You’ll see that I’m only looking to have a good time with myself and my best friend, AKA you,” you lie to her and yourself. You didn’t want to admit that you wanted to catch someone’s attention tonight— not anyone in particular, but having people scan your body up and down gave you a thrill. Even if you wanted what you said to be true— it wasn’t. Since Jasmin could read you like a book, she could tell it wasn’t true either.

     “Mmhmm... okay (Y/N). Should I bring up the last time we had a party? After that drinking contest, you had no problem basically fucking that guy Jin in the middle of everyone dancing,” You pushed your fingers in your ears to make the story stop. God, you were such an embarrassing drunk sometimes.

     “Okay, fine. What about you? Who are you going for tonight?” You ask, watching her jokingly lick her lips.

     “Namjoon,” her voice straining while saying his name in a low tone. You couldn’t help but laugh at her poor imitation of him. But after your laughing fit, her answer finally set in making you scrunch your nose.

     “Going for a straight edge tonight? Changing it up I see,” She hits you lightly and just as she was about to reply, the doorbell buzzed throughout the house. You both exchange looks before heading towards the front door. 

     Hobi stands at the front door with booze hugged to his chest. You always had the hots for him while being friends with Jasmin, but you both decided he was off limits for you. You didn’t want to put Jasmin in an uncomfortable situation if something was to ever happen, even though you doubt it would ever anyways. “Well are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna help me carry these all in? There’s more in the trunk,” he scoffs and steps inside.

     You and Jasmin walk out to the open trunk. You both see the heaping amount of boozes from different assortments of Svedka, Bicardi, Vodka, Fireball, Smirnoff, Mike’s Hard Lemonade, Jack Daniels, etc. Not only were there bottles of liquor, but there were bags of joints and blunts. Thankfully, that was all there was since you didn’t feel like being the reason someone became addicted to coke tonight. 

     “Hell yeah,” you and Jasmin both say in unison before everyone empties everything out of the trunk and aligning it on your kitchen counters. Red cups were in stacks next to the liquor and the weed was spread across the table.

     The party started at nine and the clock was just passing eight. You both thanked Hoseok by paying him back and started pregaming when he left. You guys didn’t want to get too fucked up before the party actually started, so you both made sure to snack while drinking a little bit. It was safe to say that you felt a little tipsy, heat resting on your cheeks constantly and you feeling a bit more giggly than normal. You greeted the people that walked through your doors, slightly shouting over the music playing. It was already 9:30 when you realized how little of people showed up. You kept telling yourself that more people will show up later, but it really started to bother you when people began to complain about it.

     You agree that something is off and look out your window to see Jungkook’s house filled with people inside and outside. Him living across the street from you made it even more of a smack in the face at what was happening and you weren’t just going to sit and let it happen. You drag Jasmin out to your front porch, visible to everyone flooded on Jungkook’s front yard. You, having had a few drinks already, came up with an idea that your sober self would probably look in disgust at. You whisper your thoughts to Jasmin and she agreed with no hesitation.

     You both shout and wave your arms to get people’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were on you two, you followed through with the plan. “Before you spend the rest of the night at Jungkook’s, make sure you know there’s a better party across the street,” you both shout and raise up your shirts. With no bra on for the both of you, your breasts flash everyone outside. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, nervous from the reaction you would receive. Luck was on your side tonight as everyone cheered and began flooding towards your house. People inside noticed the movement from everyone outdoors and followed, figuring there must be a reason a big crowd was leaving. Thank god.

     You were sure to greet everyone and tell them where everything was while they all walked in. Casually glancing over to Jungkook’s house to see if he was going to walk out as well. Sure enough, a couple minutes later Jungkook walks out bare chested and confused. What a meathead. He locks eyes with you and you take the perfect moment to mimic the same throat cutting motion he gave you earlier today. Clearly annoyed, he shakes his head and heads back inside his house.

     You eventually slide yourself with the crowd of people coming inside. The smell of marijuana faintly covering the room. Not a lot of people gravitated towards it to your surprise, most people already having a vape in hand. Either way, the room had a slight fog in the air. You planted yourself in the kitchen with the drinkers having shots. You join them only having a few for yourself since you were already tipsy. You were smart this time and there was no way you were going to let yourself get black out drunk. Jasmin was the polar opposite as you, she didn’t care and you were more of the ‘mom friend’ to her.

     She was out dancing like an idiot to Kodak Black, she was clearly already drunk. She jumped around aimlessly, people around her looking equally gone. You laughed as you jumped in next to her to the music. Smiles were on both of your faces and you were having a blast. On the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon join Jasmin from behind. She grinds into him when she realized who it was after you gave her a wide eyed look. She looks at you with a giant grin on her face as you watch Namjoon’s hands grip at her waist. You gave her a secret thumbs up and scan the room to try to find a guy to do the same with. Your eyes stop on Jungkook.

     You approach him and stand in front of him while he dances. “Your party so boring that you had to join mine? Last time I checked you weren’t invited,” Your face twists as you watch him having a good time in your house.

     He scoffs, “Last time I checked most of these people weren’t invited to your house either, but here they are.”

     “Well they aren’t assholes like you are!” you shout, the alcohol coursing through your veins making it difficult to hold back what’s really on your mind.

     “Isn’t the alcohol supposed to make you a less uptight bitch?” He shoots back with disgust on his face.

      “How about you just get out of my house? My party, my rules,” you cross your arms with a look that could kill someone.

     “Gladly,” he taunts. He stops dancing and looks at you. The music abruptly stops causing everyone to start complaining. You whip around to see Taehyung, one of Jungkook’s minions, have his hands around the cut cords of your stereo. “Party back over at Jungkook’s! There’s actually music playing over there!” Jungkook cups his hands around his mouth to project his announcement. You bite your cheeks to hold in the tears while you watch everyone follow Jungkook back over to his house. 

     Once the house was basically empty, you rushed over to the cut up cords. You felt your stomach drop at the sight of the damaged equipment that wasn’t even yours. You look around for Jasmin to help think of what the hell to do in a situation like this, but she wasn’t in the room. Now that the house was silent from no people and no music, the sounds of moaning were muffled from the walls separating you both.

     “Gross,” you mutter to yourself as your focus turns back to the cords. You were so screwed. This was your dad’s stereo and you had no idea how to replace it by the time they came back home. You didn’t have the money nor do you know where it’s even from. Your body started to boil, you frustrated at the fact you couldn’t even look at the cords without three other versions of it twirling around your vision. How could Jungkook go that far just to take all those people back?

     Before you could process what you were doing, your feet were stomping over to Jungkook’s house. The music blaring outside of his house. You could call the cops on him to throw back a little bit of the ‘going too far’ medicine, but you threw a party too and didn’t want to risk it. Hot humidity hit you when you stepped into his house full of people. Pushing threw the sticky dancing bodies, you finally make it to Jungkook. He stood behind a bar handing drinks out to people. You yank him aside to a room away from music so you could both actually hear each other.

     “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you think cutting cords from an expensive ass stereo is a little too far for a fucking party? My parents are gonna kill me and here you are having a good time not giving a damn about what damage you just did to my house! Such an inconsiderate asshole!” You push him roughly while screaming into his face.

     He doesn’t hold back when he pushes you back with the same force, making you stumble on your feet a bit. Now it was his turn. “Do you really think I give a shit about what your parents are gonna think? Hell, I would actually love to see their reaction, see you get grounded and cry about it like the baby you are. You have despised me ever since I moved here, even though I haven’t done shit to you. You make everything a rivalry when I’m just trying to have a good time. You have to ruin everything by needing constant validation that you are the most important one in this school when, in the end, no one gives a shit,” his words burn into your body. “And the worst part of it all is no matter how much I want to hate you, I can’t. You never leave my mind,” his voice drops as he tries to raise his hand to your face.

     You scoff and smack his hand down. “How drunk are you to try that cheap shit on me? I’m not going to run into your arms like every girl here. Just because you can smooth talk your way into every girls panties doesn’t mean I apply.” you watch his face twist with rage and embarrassment.

     “Who the hell do you think I am? I don’t manipulate anyone for sex and I wouldn’t do that to you. Why do you hate me so goddamn much, (Y/N)?” His voice is so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone would be looking when you both walked out.

     “I don’t hate you, I just- I-“ your mind was spinning. Why couldn’t you be sober right now to put together a proper sentence? He slowly walked towards you, your eyes drifting down his bare chest. Toned and shiny from the perfect amount of sweat. Snap out of it. You’re drunk. “Just pay me back for the stereo,” you push past him, knocking his shoulder aside.

     After pushing your way through the party once again, the air was a nice relief. You took a deep breath of the crisp cool air to try to cool your adrenaline from the argument and confusing words Jungkook just told you. You figured that he hated you just as much as you hate him, but now that you think about it, how could you say that when you don’t really have that strong of a dislike for him? Yes, he was annoying in every way possible, but it’s not really his fault that your friends started to gravitate more to him than you. At the end of the day, those friends weren’t really your friends if they left you.

     Your thoughts stop when you reopen your front door to reveal how big of a mess the short lived party created. You groan into your hands, but suck it up to grab a garbage bag. Empty cups, crushed chips, spilled drinks, a puddle of unknown liquid scatter the floor. You inspect the thick cream color liquid with disgust. Puke, maybe?

     You started at one end of the room picking up and cleaning your place. Your mind went back to how undeniably good Jungkook looked as he was approaching you. The dimness of the room carved out the ridges of his abs and glistened on his sweaty high points. You kept telling yourself that he was only average for the past couple years, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of his looks now made your body tingle. You couldn’t understand if that was Jack Daniel’s making you soft for him or if you’ve finally have come to realize he’s really not the villain you have made him out to be.

     You never leave my mind. But, did he mean that in a good way or a bad way? He didn’t leave your mind either, but that’s because you always complained about something he said or did. So was that the same for him, or did he mean something else?

     You snap up when you hear someone’s feet slap the hard floor. Jasmin waddles her way over to the fridge for some water. Her hair tangled and frizzy while one of her shirt straps draped past her shoulder. “Where did the party go, hm?” Her words strung together, making her voice barely comprehendible. Her eyes watch you lazily as she filled up her cup. The mascara crumbling off of her lashes.

     “Jesus, look at you. I’ll tell you all about it when you’re able to understand what I’m saying,” you watch her roll her eyes at your comment.

     She slams the water in her cup, not hesitating to refill it up. She licks her lips, “so what were you and Jungkook talking about? Saw him giving you those ‘fuck me’ eyes before you walked over there.”

     You snort a laugh. “Excuse me?” You face was sour, yet your cheeks speckle with heat.

     “God, you’re so boy-stupid (Y/N),” she shakes her head and disappears with her second glass of water.

     “Says the one who only makes a move when she’s plastered!” You yell for her to hear with a joking smile on your face.

     “Hey! Rude!” She replies, fumbling up the stairs as she tries not to spill.

     You shake your head and laugh, resorting back to picking up your mess of a house. You notice a broken bottle on the floor, glass pieces pointing dangerously upward. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you grab a broom to sweep up the pile. But, the sound of a door bell stops you in your tracks.

     Jungkook stands at the door looking down at you while you stare at him with furrowed brows. “Yes?”

     “Need some help? Kind of partied out,” he leans his arm on the door frame. “Here, by the way,” he digs in his pocket and gives you a roll of money.

     “Where did you even-“

     He interrupts you by saying, “Listen, I’m sorry about the stereo. You’re right. It was too far.”

     You look up at him to see if he was joking with you or not. You never thought you would hear the words ‘you’re right’ come from his mouth, but he was serious. You stuffed the money in your pocket because, hell, you needed it. Although he was being weirdly nice right now, you didn’t want it to be ruined by inviting him in. Who knows if another argument would fire up? “Well, thank you. I don’t need any help though,” you blow a strand of hair out of your face.

     “Suit yourself,” he turns around and begins walking back. Head down and hands in pockets as he steps down your front porch steps. 

     You chew at your lip while watching him. Maybe you should let him in to see what has been going on with him tonight. What’s the worst that could happen? You guys have already been ‘worst enemies’ so it wouldn’t be anything new if it was back to that after tonight. “Wait!”

     He turns around, only being at the bottom on your steps he looks up at you. His eyes scan down your body as you stand there in silence. Fuck, what do I say now?

     He spins on his heels and walks back up the steps. You gulp as his figure approaches you. He looks at you with the same look in his eyes as earlier, yet this time he crashes his lips on yours. The force makes you stumble back, so you both are inside the house now. He kicks the door closed behind him and pushes you against the wall next to it. Your mind is spinning at the turn of events, yet you really didn’t want to stop it.

     He pushes his lips against you roughly as his hands rest at your waist. You would have never thought the fantasy you daydreamed about earlier would end up being Jungkook, but here you were, not having a single problem with it. Your lips matched his when you both found the right rhythm. Your hands travel from his chest to being wrapped around his neck giving him the opening to feel you up. His hands stop at your breasts over your shirt giving them a squeeze.

     “I guess this answers my question about if you thinking about me all the time was a good or bad thing” you disconnect your lips with a smirk.

     He looked down at your lips while you spoke, both of you out of breath from the adrenaline pumping throughout both of your bodies. “Shut up,” he laughs breathily. Your mouths meet again, passion filled with each touch. His tongue licks around your mouth causing the kisses to become a bit messier and impatient. You tug at his bottom lip, releasing a quiet growl when it snaps back.

     You could taste the liquor on both of your mouths while you kiss. The sweet and bitter linger that each kiss provided made you never want to stop. Your hands claw through his dark brown hair, tangling each finger against his scalp. Every slight tug made a groan rise from his throat.

     Once he was done being teased, his hands gripped your ass. The yelp that came from your lips caused a smirk to spread across his face. He watches you squeeze your eyes shut from the pleasure. Lust filling his hooded eyes. He licks your lips before dipping to attach himself to your neck. Your eyes flutter while your neck cranes back, begging to be touched. A moan escapes your lips from him sucking the tender skin. The care of hiding hickies from your parents currently eliminated by his lips gently kissing the marks.

     You wrap your leg around his back side and pull him closer. His rock hard dick pushing against you cause your breath to hitch. He’s still focusing on your neck as his hands feel you up again, yet this time he’s under your shirt. His fingertips glide over your sensitive skin and stop under your bare breast. He draws back and bites his lip when he forgot that you weren’t wearing a bra. You whine for him to continue touching you by arching your chest towards him. He palms both of your breasts, squeezing them lightly dragging over your nipples. You whimper from the sudden and quick feeling of him touching your sensitive nipples. The feeling shooting throughout your body.

     One of his hands leaves your breast and travels up the inside of your bare thigh. Going up your skirt and stopping on the outside of your underwear. “Tell me you want it— that you want me,” he looks at you. 

     Talking during sex wasn’t really something you’ve done before. With that being said, you haven’t really been in a lot of sexual encounters to begin with. Your cheeks flush and you look at him shyly. “I want you,” your voice coming out softer than you would have liked.

     He tries to hide the smile that threatened to come across his face, so he brushes his nose over yours before connected your lips with him. This time the kiss was soft and sweet, almost innocent. The lust reappears when he makes you gasp by pulling your underwear aside to rub around your pussy. You gripped onto his hair as you moan uncontrollably in his mouth. You were already wet from before, but now you were drenched.

     “So wet for me? I thought I’d never see the day,” he whispers in your ear. All you could pull out of your mouth was another moan as his rubbing became rougher. Two of his fingers trail down your folds and wiggle into you inch by inch. Curling and pumping in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. You whine as you grind down into him and grip his shoulders. While he pumps fiercely into you, his other hand pinches and gropes your breasts. His breath is hot against your skin, watching you so vulnerable under his touch.

     “I want more,” you pull your lip in between your teeth. He pauses to meet eyes with you, batting your lashes playfully. He pulls your underwear past your hips and down to the floor. You step out of them and watch him unzip his jeans. He lets them fall to the ground around his feet after pulling a condom out of his pocket. His dick rises from the lack of restraint the jeans provided causing your legs to squeeze together from the excitement. You watch him pump his length a few more times before sliding the condom on.

     “I didn’t know that the famous Jungkook practiced safe sex,” you giggle. You honestly didn’t care since you were on birth control but it’s better to be safe then sorry.

     “I didn’t even know the famous (Y/N) had sex to begin with,” he glances up at you with a smug smile.

     Barely, you thought to yourself. You stayed silent since he already started to cease the space between your two bodies. You pull your shirt over your body, leaving you with just your skirt on. You begin to tug it down, but his hands stop you. 

     “Keep the skirt on,” his voice raspy. You could feel his dick resting between your legs. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. You weren’t usually the one for casual sex; you figure that’s all this really was. In all honesty, you hope it isn’t. He could tell the uneasiness on your face when he asked,” Are you sure you want to?”

     You nod eagerly. Fuck it, even if it was casual his dick will probably be bomb given the massive size of the thing.

     “Just tell me if it ever hurts or anything,” he kisses your forehead and trails his lips to your lips once again. One of his arms wraps around the back of your thigh to lift, completely exposing yourself under the skirt. He keeps your leg lifted as he slowly slides in your impatiently dripping pussy. Your eyes screw shut, the delicious stretch has your hands latching back on his hair. “Fuck...you’re so tight baby,” his breath stutters. Despite the dirty actions, you feel your heart skip a beat at him call you baby like this. Your feelings for him have completely changed since the beginning of the night, and you hope he won’t crush you when you finally begin to grow feelings for him.

     He pushes and pulls at a constant pace, enjoying every bit of you while doing so. The heavenly tug your fingers give his hair while the suction of your pussy, wanting to keep him in while he pulls out, almost makes him want to let go right now, but he doesn’t want to blow this opportunity. The opportunity to show that he can make you feel something other than anger. He wanted to show you that you guys could function together without wanting to shoot each other’s heads off. Of course, sex wasn’t going to make you realize everything he wanted you to about him, but it was a start given the circumstances of tonight.

     His kisses are the only thing holding you both from screaming each other’s names. Wet sounds and slapping skin hid the sounds of the moans you both made in each other’s mouths. His free hand snakes around your waist to hug you against him creating a friction every time he pounded inside of you. The friction against your clit made your eyes roll back while your walls clench around him. You could feel your core ignite as each stroke hit blissfully against your spot. As you felt yourself grow closer, your arms pressed up against the wall trying to hold something that wasn’t there. Your moans became higher in pitch, almost as squeaks. His fingers dig into your skin from him trying not to release his load. As if you thought he couldn’t get any deeper, the hand on your back drops down to your ass to pull the cheek. His strokes rise into you, causing your body to jump up every time.

     He growls before lifting your other leg under his other arm, guiding you to now wrap both of your legs around his waist. His hands hold you up below your ass along with the force of being pushed against the wall. He slams into you as he holds you in place. It was obvious that you both were going to reach your high any second now. Your moans barely even making it out of your throat as you watch him. The sweat on his forehead making his messy hair stick to it and his adam’s apple bob as he groans over and over again— music to your ears. You felt yourself explode from pleasure as water floods on the floor below you two. Your tight clenching pussy drives him over the edge as he fills the barrier between both of you. You hug him close as you bounce on his dick to ride out both of your highs.

     Your legs reached the ground again, immediately shaking from how weak they feel. You both look at each other panting with wide eyes. You both can’t believe that just happened. He’s still inches from your face and his hands glide up and down the curve of your hips.

     “I guess this means we don’t hate each other anymore right?” he chuckles, but the look he gives you when he meets your eyes is telling you that he’s hoping he’s right. 

     You pull away from his stare to pull your shirt back on, so he takes the moment to pull his pants over himself as well. “That might be something I have to think about,” you wink at him to be a tease.

     “Do you have to think about us going on a date sometime?” He loops his belt around his waist, acting casual about what he just said.

     “What?” you freeze in disbelief.

     “You. Me. Dating. Squashing this beef we’ve had for, I don’t know how long. I’m over it. You’re a great person minus the ‘hating me’ part and you’re beautiful...like seriously,” his hand combs through his tangled mess. 

     You laugh from being shy from compliments. “I would love to go on a date with you,” you look down at your feet. His smile grows. “On one condition, we don’t throw parties on the same night anymore.”

     “Silly girl, we’ll be throwing one party together from now on, duh.” he boops your nose. You both spend the rest of the night side by side at the party. Brushing off everyone’s shocked faces whenever he pulled you into a kiss.

     Who would’ve known you’d end up being head over heels over the one you once thought ruined your life?

Requested by: @penguinkyung

[elexica]

Wasted

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671706

Summary: Kaiba gets drunk at Mokuba's fraternity initiation party and does the cute orientation leader's calculus homework. He's bad at flirting, but he's good at math.

Rating: Teen for Drinking

Pairing: Kaiba/Joey; Puppyshipping/Violetshipping Word Count:1568

(exactly what the summary says; read under the cut!)

“You are the glass half empty, sippin my ocean dry , emotionally spin me so that our planets cannot align, but I guess I can stand you one more night. . . I like us better when we’re wasted.”

– “Wasted,” by Tiesto.

“An’ over here is the cafeteria!  It’s all you can eat while ya live in the dorms!”  Joey smiled brightly as he waved an arm towards the cafeteria dorm.  “But if yer not in the dorms, you gotta pay.” He shook his head in exaggerated sadness.  “Unless you can get some Frosh to swipe ya in!”

Seto nodded serenely.  They continued to walk around campus, heading back to the student union.  Joey was the best orientation leader on campus—known for making everyone feel welcome and comfortable.  This was why they were always giving him the most difficult transfer students, he was sure.  He was also the only transfer student who worked for the orientation office as part of his financial aid work-study plan.

“So uh… yer clearly a little older than the freshies here… are you a transfer student or something?”  Joey rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “Not that I’m judging or anythin’! I’m a transfer student too! Saves a lotta money and you get the same degree anyway!”

Seto did not look at Joey, as if he was wholly preoccupied by observing the various bicyclists streaming past them.

“It was time for my brother to start as a freshman, and I determined that I might as well secure a diploma simultaneously.”

Joey laughed, not because Seto had said anything funny, but because he was trying to lighten the mood.  His partner didn’t offer anything else, and it was painfully awkward.  Joey looked down at the information the admissions office had given him.

“So ehhh, looks like you’re a computer science student.” Joey offered.

“That’s correct.” Seto said.

“Which means…  you any good at calculus?”

“I am excellent.”  Seto rolled his eyes.

“So uh, if you got the time… you think you could help me?  It’s a pre-req for a biology class I gotta take for my Child Development minor and…”

“A minor in Child Development? Are you studying to be a teacher?”  Seto’s voice was harsh with derision.

“Close—social worker!” Joey beamed a little extra.

Seto rolled his eyes, his ice finally freezing any further pleasantries.

. . .

Seto Kaiba hated Fireball whiskey.  He was a man of taste, and had no problem sipping quality whiskey with the best of them.  But four shots of fireball in at his brother’s initiation Frat Party left him entirely nauseated.

Cinnamon-tinted bile worked its way up his throat as he balanced against the sticky wall of the party.  Portraits of the last 50 Fraternity Presidents glared at him, and he had half a mind to projectile vomit on them.

The world was spinning, but if he put down the red solo cup of what Mokuba had affectionately called “Jungle Juice” he would be forced to interact with another living soul in the building, so he choked down the fireball with some of the alcoholic fruit punch.

That was a mistake.  If the world had been slightly off-balance before, the combined effect was really hitting, and the whole world was clearly spinning.  He didn’t dare dislodge himself from his spot on the wall.

“Kaiba?”  Joey approached.  Kaiba wanted to bite out some witty line about the profit margin on social work, but he didn’t totally trust himself to open his mouth.  “You ok?”

With a thick swallow, Kaiba looked over and bit out, “Fine.  How do you remember me from…”

“Yeah uh, I don’t give a lotta tours to CEO-billionaire transfer students, ya stuck out.”  Joey leaned in, clearly concerned.  “You don’t look so hot, you wanna sit down?  Have some water?”

Kaiba stepped away from the wall to get out of the situation, and maybe start walking back to his apartment.  Within two steps he stumbled.  His spatial reasoning was totally shot.

And so was all his good sense, melting into the strong arms that caught him.

“Yeah, let’s get ya some water, alright?  Man, you do not look like yer having a good time.”

“Still want me to tutor you in calculus?” Seto managed to say, leaning embarrassingly into his counterpart’s chest.

“Honestly, if you still understand it, in yer condition, then yeah, that’d be great.”

“Ha! It would be easy.”

“Look, I’m gay, okay, I can’t do math!” Joey laughed at his own joke.

“Pathetic! I am also gay, and I am the best at math.” Seto slurred, but sounded devastatingly serious.  Joey leaned the belligerent drunk into a chair in the dining room of the frat house.  “You don’t believe me?”

Joey raised his hands defensively, “I believe you!”

“No, you don’t.  I’ll prove it.  Bring me your homework.”

Joey wandered away.  At some point, he must have told his fraternity bros that Kaiba was going to do his calculus homework drunk, because Mokuba and a group came over.

Mokuba was wearing a Delta Mu shirt from their charity event last week—some sort of poker night—and his hair was even wilder than normal.  “Seto! This is so like you.  Did you really have to steal the spotlight at my initiation party?”

Seto looked up from a solo cup of water that Joey must have left behind.  “I am not here for any spotlight.  I’m going to prove a point.”

And with that, Joey reappeared with his old laptop wide open.  “The worksheet is open.  The software calculates your grade immediately after you press enter.”

“I know how the interface works, dumbass.”  Kaiba rolled his eyes and stretched his fingers in front of him.

“Ahh yer a mean drunk.  You might need a graphing calculator, by the way.”

“Then bring me a graphing calculator.”  Joey flipped him off, but left the room to get one.

The pledge-master, Tristan, stepped in.  “I dunno if this guy’s actually drunk, or just faking.”

“What incentive do I have to—”

“Moki-Moki, he’s your bro.  What do you think?  What would he never do if he was sober?” Tristan said.

“Talk about his feelings,” Mokuba said instantly, rolling his eyes and taking another sip to hide his smirk.

“Ok.  Well?”

Kaiba opened and shut his mouth a few times, before he announced, “I’m about to puke on this fool’s laptop.”

“Sounds like Seto.” Mokuba’s smirk blossomed into a smile at getting to make fun of his brother for once.

“FINE!”  The cold fire behind Seto’s eyes lit up.  “I am thissss close to making out with the hot blond dumb ass, but instead I’m going to do his homework.  Happy?”

“Moki?”

Mokuba’s smile vanished, and he wasn’t in any state to hide his shock.  “Checks out.  I’m … well I was… the only person who knew that Seto liked boys.”

Seto leaned into the computer.  “Great.  Bring me that graphing calculator and tequila shots for everyone.  I’m going to raise that guy’s grade 15%, and this is supposed to be a party.”

Joey reappeared with the calculator, and was shocked to see Seto actually making some headway on the problem set.  There were about fifteen problems.  Tristan put a neon plastic shot glass on the edge of the laptop, and without looking away from the screen, Seto slammed the shot.  If it burned his throat, he didn’t show it.

The gathered crowd looked at each other, holding matching neon shots awkwardly.  Tristan had clearly expected that Seto would have followed proper shots conduct and waited for the announcement.

Mokuba had years of experience with covering Seto’s faux pas.  “You saw the man! SHOTS!”  Everyone else downed them in tandom.

After a few minutes the group was chatting about other things and several of the brothers had entirely lost interest in watching Kaiba do calculus.  A smaller group of hold outs was extremely entertained, and Seto was going shockingly fast.

Within fifteen minutes the homework was complete.

“Done!” Seto shouted, pushing the graphic calculator across the table and was handed another tiny neon green shot glass, which he quickly downed.

Joey inspected the website.  It looked right enough.  “I dunno if I should submit this…” Joey waffled.

“Fool! Then we won’t know if I was right.” Seto looked unbearably offended.  

“But the academic honor code?”  Joey was actually nervous about this.

Seto leaned all the way back, and threaded his hands through his long hair.  “Screw the academic honor code.  I have money.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna know if he’s the genius he’s supposed to be? Plus, no one else is going to know!” Tristan prodded.

Joey pressed enter.

The whole room paused while the site processed his answers.

“PERFECT SCORE!” Joey shouted, throwing his hands up!

The group had grown again and cheered, and Mokuba called for another round of celebratory shots, which served to drive the group back into the kitchen.

Joey and Seto were left alone.  Seto rested his head against the table and looked up at Joey.

“So… uh… ya wanna make out with me?” Joey blushed a little.

“I am literally going to puke, right now. Step aside.”  Seto shifted to get up.  He looked determined to make it to his feet, but it was not promising.

Joey leaned over to help.  “I can’t believe that you can do calculus, but ya can barely stand.  Yer ridiculous.”

“Still want me to tutor you?”

“So much.”

The end.

[wonjaekook]

If the Dress Fits

A/N: This fic is 80% Y/N and Chenle whining to their respective best friends about each other and like 20% actual plot, but it’s fine… to be honest, I had a really hard time writing this one for whatever reason? But enjoy !

21 Tropes: 8. High school/prom AU + turquoise w/Chenle

Description: Zhong Chenle had somehow not gotten himself a date for prom. He had, however, found out that you have the same favorite movie as him.

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

“This one, you’re getting this one.”

The dress that your friend Ryujin waves in front of you nearly makes you dizzy with how sparkly it is and you have to close your eyes and push her hand away. “I don’t like it,” you say, frowning, “It’s too much.”

“My friend,” she says, lowering the dress and slinging an arm around your shoulder, “you’re going to get a dress today whether you like it or not and, if you aren’t going to choose, I’ll pick one for you.”

“But I-”

“Don’t have a date, blah blah. I don’t care. You’re my best friend and you’re coming to prom no matter what.” Ryujin is beyond stubborn and you know there isn’t anything you can do to convince her to let you stay home.

“Well, I don’t like that one,” you say, turning back to the racks of long, beautiful dresses.

“Choose one soon or I’ll choose for you! We have to go make our hair and makeup appointments, too!”

“Such a waste of money,” you grumble under your breath, pushing dress after dress aside.

“It’s a perfectly good use of money! This is a once in a lifetime experience. Once. In. A. Lifetime!” As she emphasizes each word, you sigh heavily and just pull out the next dress you see.

“I’ll get this one.” Your best friend scrutinizes your choice, a displeased pout on her lips.

“You just chose that one randomly! At least put some thought into it-”

“I like the color and it’s pretty, isn’t that enough?”

She stares at you for a beat before giving in. “Fine, go try it on, then.” As you close the door of the changing room behind you, she shouts out another demand. “And you’d better come out with it on so I can see!” The changing process takes longer than you would have liked to admit, but you eventually step out with the zipper zipped and ribbon tied, showing Ryujin how the item looks on you. She scrutinizes you carefully, tugging at bits of cloth here and there until she sighs. “If you like it, then I like it. Somehow you chose one randomly that looks really good on you.”

You grin victoriously, ecstatic that you’re finally done with the most tedious shopping expedition you’ve ever been on. As you’re getting rung up, you’re also happy to find that the dress isn’t priced too badly either, so you begrudgingly let your best friend drag you along to your next stops without much complaint.

Unbeknownst to you, just a few stores over, Chenle and Jisung are performing a similar operation. Standing in a men’s formal wear store, Chenle is nearly as indecisive as you, but not for lack of caring. If anything, Jisung is the one who cares less of the two as he watches his friend fret.

“Can’t you just pick one?” The younger boy prods, impatiently standing while Chenle stares at the rows and rows of ties. “It’s not like you have anyone to match with.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” the elder grumbles, pouting while continuing to scan over the ties. He finally reaches out, picking up three.

“Why didn’t you ask someone, again?” Jisung asks, eyes wandering around the store.

“I didn’t really want to.” He shrugs before scrutinizing each tie carefully in his hands. “...and there’s no one I’m really interested in right now.”

His taller friend looks over his shoulder and points at one. “You should get that one.”

“Why?” Jisung shrugs in response. “Just because you said that, I’m getting this one.” Chenle puts the other two back and goes to the register, purchasing the tie.

You and Chenle make a somewhat unlikely pair. While he’s at least somewhat “cool,” you’re definitely not. He’s good at languages and music and sports, but you’re good at math and science. You’re about as opposite as you can get. That’s probably your biology teacher paired up the two of you.

“Who assigns a project the week before prom?” Chenle groans.

“Can we just focus and get some of this done tonight? I have a Calculus exam tomorrow that I need to study for, too.”

“I hate lab reports,” Chenle grumbles under his breath. You would have rolled your eyes if you didn’t completely agree.

“Same.”

He looks up at you, surprised at your response. “You don’t like writing lab reports?”

You give him an incredulous look. “Of course I don’t like writing lab reports! Who likes writing lab reports? I may be a nerd but I’m not that much of a nerd.”

“Oh,” he says, flushing in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The two of you work as silently as possible for a while, only asking necessary questions. That is, until your phone begins to loudly go off. The chorus of “Start of Something New” from High School Musical blares and fills the room and you scramble to grab your phone, rejecting the call when you see that it’s just Ryujin. You take a minute to send her a panicked text, saying you’re working on a biology thing with Chenle, before you slowly turn back around to face him. He’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You like High School Musical?” Slowly, you nod, cringing at yourself, and he lights up. “That’s my favorite movie!”

“Wait, really?” Your head snaps up and he’s grinning at you.

“Yeah! I make Jisung watch it with me at least twice a year.” You can’t help but smile back at his enthusiasm.

“I make Ryujin watch it with me every so often, too,” you say, staring back at him. “Going into high school, I always wanted it to be like the movie, but…” You trail off, the smile fading from your face. “I’m being dumb, never mind.”

“No, continue,” he encourages, gesturing at you. “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe another time,” you say, somewhat bitterly, “let’s finish this lab report.”

The two of you don’t finish the lab report.

By the time you get through half of it, you realize that you’re basically just talking to yourself and Chenle is about a minute away from falling asleep, so you end the session there and make plans to work on it the next day. He agrees sleepily before packing up his stuff and leaving your house. You pull your phone out and flop down on your bed almost immediately after he leaves, seeing how Ryujin had responded to you earlier.

Bestie: you got paired up with Chenle? Zhong Chenle??

Y/N: YES and he finally left

Bestie: how was that? did you get along?

Y/N: it was fine, I found that he actually loves HSM too

Bestie: huh, really? cool i guess

Bestie: maybe this is your Gabriella moment and you can make him fall in love with

you…

Y/N: stop being weird, I’m not that delulu

Bestie: I’m serious, high school isn’t over yet! it’s not over until it’s over

Bestie: plus he’s cute, you should go for it

Y/N: stoppppp you’re being weird

You toss your phone to the side. Admittedly, when Chenle had first commented that he also loved the movie, you felt like your moment was finally coming, but you shut that feeling down quickly. There was no way you could ever, or he could ever, or that could ever-

You shake your head and smack your face with both palms, trying to clear your head. You really read too many romance novels.

As soon as Chenle leaves your house, he’s texting Jisung.

CL: JISUNG. CHENJI MEETING RIGHT NOW.

JS: what

JS: why are you trying to calling a meeting rn… what’s wrong

CL: Y/N IS SO CUTE

CL: AND SHE LIKES HSM

JS: uhh, nice?

CL: I WANT TO ASK HER OUT

JS: haven’t you had like… one conversation with her? isn’t that a little soon?

CL: …

CL: you’re right

JS: wait a little bit, i didn’t get my gf by jumping at the first girl i thought was cute

CL: your gf approached you first

JS: okay that’s not the point

CL: I’ll wait but I swear I’ve thought she’s cute since econ with her freshman year

JS: whatever you say

The next day, you try to ignore the face that Ryujin makes at you from across the hall as you exit biology class next to Chenle, opting to wave goodbye at him and turn a blind eye to your friend’s taunting.

“Can you not?” You say to her as soon as he leaves. “You’re still being weird!”

“I can smell the romance,” she says, dramatically wiping away a nonexistent tear from her eye, “my baby Y/N is finally getting action.”

“I’m not!” You’re on the verge of stomping your foot like a little kid with how frustrated you are. “We just have to work on a project together!” “I’m friends with Jisung, you know,” she says, “I could slip in a good word about you and that word could reach Chenle-” You hit her on the arm and she winces, pouting at you and shutting up. “Let me live and stop trying to set me up!”

“Fine,” she says, “I guess I’ll just have to let it happen naturally. I’ll leave it even more alone if you buy my banana milk today…?” She tries, but you shut her down with a glare, proceeding to walk to the cafeteria with her. While you’re sitting with your group of friends and eating, you make eye contact with Chenle as he passes by your table with Jisung and he smiles and waves, causing you to wave back. Your best friend sees, nudging you after he breaks eye contact and continues walking and you glare back at her.

When Chenle and Jisung get to their own table, the younger just rolls his eyes at the dreamy look on the elder’s face. “She’s so cute,” he says, leaning against his hand, his elbow on the table.

“Just eat your food.”

One thing you would never, ever admit to her is that you did, at one point, have a crush on your biology partner. You had a class with Chenle at one point in freshman year, economics if you remember correctly. The dynamic was similar to how it is now, but you had been even more quiet then. You don’t think he even knew you existed, which you’re fine with now. When you think about yourself from freshman year, you cringe, just like most other people. But, now, working with him on this project is bringing back the tiny fluttering butterflies in your stomach that you had repressed years before. Ryujin’s comments just bring you false hope because you’re almost certain you have no chance. So, once again, you push back those thoughts and go back to your lunch.

At your house later, you and Chenle work hard on your lab report, spending most of your time relatively silently for about an hour before he sighs and collapses dramatically over his work. “Ah, this is so hard.” “Yeah,” you agree, “I hate this. But we have to finish.”

“Uh-huh…” he says absentmindedly, lifting his head and glancing around your room. “You said…” “What?” You ask, looking away from your work and up at him.

“You said you wanted your life to be like the movie, right?” Your heart beats faster in your chest at the question and you can feel heat rise to your face, tinging it red. “Can you sing?”

“No,” you say quickly, looking at your hands, “and please don’t ask me to demonstrate. I’m so bad that I shatter glass, I swear.”

His high, squeaky laugh makes you lighten up a little bit. “I won’t ask, but I also don’t think anyone is that bad. And I know, I’ve tutored voice lessons. Anyone can sing if they practice enough.”

“Mhm, maybe. You’ve never heard me sing before.” You find yourself smiling at him.

“We should go to karaoke sometime,” he says. You wouldn’t have known, but the invitation is very spur of the moment, something that just escapes his lips before he can really think about what he’s saying.

“Sure.” You agree reluctantly, not quite believing that he’s implying that he wants to hang out with you more.

In his head, he’s screaming at himself. He just casually asked you out. He just casually asked you out?!

“If you don’t sing,” he says, trying to move on from what he just did, “then, do you dance?” “A little,” you respond hesitantly. ���I taught myself some just in case.”

“Wait, really?” He exclaims, surprised. “I can’t dance at all.” “Anyone can dance if they practice enough. Besides, how are you going to dance with your date at prom if you don’t learn?” He doesn’t respond right away, so you swallow hard. “Assuming you’re going?” “I’m going!” He says quickly, making you relax slightly. “I just don’t have a date.” “You don’t?” You ask tentatively, unsure of how sensitive the topic is for him.

“Yeah. It’s whatever. But even Jisung got a date! I’m gonna have to third-wheel all night.” You laugh softly at his response.

“I feel that. I don’t have one either and I know Ryujin and her boyfriend are going to be all over each other. I’m going to try my best not to look.” When you say that you don’t have a date, he looks up at you, surprised.

“You don’t have a date? Really?” “What do you mean, really? Is it that surprising?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re one of the smartest girls in our class and you’re cute. Why…?” You flush at his compliments. He really sees you like that?

Once again, he’s internally screaming at how casually he’s saying things to you today. He’s also far too relieved by the fact that you don’t have a date to prom.

“I- I guess I just… don’t talk to guys a lot?” You squeak out. “Why don’t you have a date?”

“There was no one I wanted to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms before he echoes your words. “Is it that surprising?”

“To be honest, yeah,” you say, your filter suddenly gone, “you’re cute and popular and you’re good at what you do, so…” Silence hangs somewhat heavily between the two of you as you blush at each other, contemplating what could come next.

“Do you want to-”

“Maybe you and I-”

You start to speak at the same time and stop. “You go first,” you say. “No, you.” He responds. Smiles slowly creep onto your faces before you both start laughing, eliminating the tension in the air. After your laughter dies, you smile at him again.

“We should probably finish this stupid lab report.”

He nods. “Yeah, probably. Do you want to watch High School Musical after we’re done?”

You agree and get back to work. As you finish the assignment and sit on your bed with him, watching the movie, you try to ignore the fact that Zhong Chenle called you cute and that you called him cute back. You definitely try to ignore the fact that you almost asked him to be your date to prom when you’d only had like two conversations with him and the dance itself is in two days. However, you try the hardest to ignore the way that the two of you had just clicked when you were talking and how sitting next to him, watching your shared favorite movie under mounds of your pillows and blankets, feels so natural, too natural.

You try to ignore how your heart beats faster when you talk to him and he excitedly talks back to you during biology, or when you meet eyes with him across the cafeteria and he smiles at you.

But, no matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the reemerging feelings. As you’re getting your hair and makeup done, you can’t help but wonder what he’ll think when, or if, he sees you at the dance. You can’t help but wonder if he was messing with you when he said he didn’t have a date, or if you were getting your hopes too high up that maybe he had been about to ask the same question to you as you were to him when you were studying together, or if you would even see him at all.

Ryujin snaps you out of it by literally snapping her fingers in front of your face, jolting you out of your thoughts. “Hey, today is a happy day! I can see those gears turning in your head and I’m telling you to turn them off and enjoy yourself for once. This is prom! You’re going to have fun whether you like it or not and I’ll make sure of that!”

“This is why you’re my best friend,” you say, hugging her, “thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she says, lighting up again. “Now, let’s get you into that dress.”

On the other side of town, Chenle is fretting about nearly the same thing as you, but a bit more vocally.

“What if she’s just being nice? What if she doesn’t actually think I’m cute? What if she doesn’t want to dance with me because I told her I’m not good at it? What if-” “Please, please stop,” Jisung whines, sick of hearing his friend complain about this girl for hours. He aggressively adjusts his tie, manhandling it into the right place as he speaks. “Just ask her to dance later. It’s not hard. You’re supposed to be the confident one, so just do it!”

“She’s too cute. I won’t be able to handle seeing her today.”

“You’ll be fine. Just try to have a good time.”

For the nth time, he has to agree with Jisung, even if it’s quite as romantic of an outlook.

When you step out of the relatively nice car that Ryujin’s boyfriend is driving, you feel like a princess. Even though you don’t have a prince of your own yet and you had been moping not three hours before, you find that the venue is dazzling. Pretty fake-crystal decorations are draped around lights and everything is adorned with off-white cloth that falls beautifully, like tiny waterfalls of fabric. Your best friend gasps when she gets out of the car, grabbing onto your arm and pointing at the various pretty things all around. After she is done with her initial shock, she reaches out, grabbing her date’s hand and dragging him along with her, with you trailing behind.

To your sadness, you don’t spot Chenle until everyone is sitting at their tables, eating the nice dinner that your school had catered for you. You can only see the back of his head and shoulders, his hair seeming to be neatly styled and a tuxedo replacing his usual casual outfit. You forget about him for a while as you eat and chat with your friends, sending compliments to everyone at your table. When the dancing starts, you have a decent time standing in a circle with your friends, making a fool of yourself with your silly dance moves under the disco ball and colorful moving lights setup, and having more fun than you had expected. Then, the first slow dance starts and you awkwardly step off the dance floor with all of the other single people, standing back and watching people dance.

Except, as you step off, someone taps on your shoulder.

You turn around and find Chenle, no date in sight, just like he had said. His eyes are wide when he looks at you, staring at your whole getup. “You look really pretty.”

“Thanks,” you say, grinning up at him. “You look handsome.”

Your gaze travels over his outfit, stopping at his tie, and you freeze. The two of you seem to realize at the same time. Your dress, a long, sweeping gown with ample lace and sparkle, is the same shade of turquoise blue as his silk, patterned tie.

“I guess this means something, right?” He looks at you, meeting your eyes earnestly. “You don’t have a date, I don’t have a date, but we somehow ended up matching anyways. Even though I’m not good at it, do you-”

“-want to dance? Yes.” He takes your hand, pulling you onto the dance floor.

For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re a part of a story, dancing at prom in one of your cheesy high school romance novels or movies. You’re Gabriella and he’s Troy and you couldn’t be happier just swaying with him, avoiding complicated steps and just enjoying each other’s slightly clumsy but entirely heartfelt moves.

After the song ends, you escape with him to a quieter part of the venue, chatting with him for what seems like hours about anything and everything that comes to mind, only occasionally going back in to dance sometimes. At some point, while you’re outside the main room with him, Ryujin passes you on her way to the bathroom, making a face at you, and you know you’re going to be getting some sort of scolding later. Chenle laughs his cute, squeaky laugh as you pull a face back at her. You think a few people from your grade who pass you are confused when they see you together, wearing a matching dress and tie, but you find it in you to not care.

But, the night has to come to a close at some point, and you reluctantly say goodbye to him when Ryujin sends you a whiny text that she wants to go home. The magic doesn’t leave as you go to her house for a small after party, featuring a movie that you both fall asleep to after you take your makeup off and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you wake up, your feet ache from the heels you wore the night before, and the pain is the little evidence you have to prove that the night actually happened. You hope with all your heart that the night meant as much to you as it did to Chenle and your heart slowly sinks as you check your phone, finding no notifications from him.

Then, while you’re eating breakfast with Ryujin, you see it.

Chenle: Since we just did something you’re good at and you agreed to it earlier, karaoke some time?

[purplesurveys]

941

ACH

Do you listen to anything by Bach? I’ve probably encountered some of his material since I like looking for classical musical playlists to listen to on Spotify, but I’m nowhere near being a devoted fan or anything like that.

ASH

Do you like ash trees? I’m not attached to any kind of tree, really – but I know I have nothing against this kind, haha.

Do you have the ashes of a family member or a pet? No. The only ashes I’ve gotten to encounter are my grandpa’s, but we’ve since placed them in our local ossuary so that he can rest in peace.

How often do you feel like you want to bash your head against a wall? Before September, quite seldom. But with this month being so turbulent, chaotic, and nothing like I expected it to be, seldom has turned into every day.

Has anyone ever thrown you a big birthday bash? Sure. I had a big party when I was 7 and I also had a nice slew of celebrations when I turned 18. But if you mean a surprise birthday bash then no, no one has thrown one for me.

Do you know anyone who is brash? I do, but fortunately I haven’t had to work with her for a while now. I certainly often felt annoyed when I used to have to.

Do you typically carry cash or a credit/debit card? OMG Y’ALL I finally opened my own bank account last Friday I’ve never felt so grown-up until now haha. My dad helped me set up my first card, which is a debit card. :)

Have you ever crashed someone else’s party before? No, that sounds so annoying omg. I’d never want to be known as a gatecrasher. I know I’d be pissed if someone showed up to any of my parties uninvited.

Have you ever been involved in a car crash? Yes but fortunately they’ve all been super mild ones. One of my biggest fears is getting involved in a car crash where things would be out of my control and becoming seriously injured, like if a drunk driver crashed into me or if a 12-wheeler loses its brakes and slams into my car or something. I think I’d live in resentment for the rest of my life if that sort of thing happened to me and still ended up alive.

Do you use Door Dash? I didn’t know what this is so I had to look it up, and even though we don’t have Door Dash we do have several apps that do exactly the same services.

How often do you use a dash in your writing? I like using them in more casual contexts like survey entries, personal essays, feature articles, etc. I avoid dashes in academic writing since dashes are not really the most formal of punctuation marks.

Last place you made a mad dash to? The car repair shop that my dad asked me to meet him at because his situation was a little urgent at the time.

Do you make it a habit to flash people? Oh wow, no I don’t. That’s one of the last things anyone can expect from me. I like wearing revealing or skin-tight articles of clothing, but that doesn’t mean I like giving absolutely everything away lol

Do you prefer flash or no flash on a camera? No flash, always. I hate the effect that flash does and I never go for it, unless I’m in an area where lighting is poor.

Is the Flash one of your favorite superheroes? No. I’m not very big on superheroes to begin with.

Do you use the phrase “I’ll be back in a flash”? Not really. I find myself using “I’ll be super quick” more, or using ‘jiffy’ instead of flash.

Have you ever had a gash in your head before? Anywhere else on your body? I sported a gash near my eyebrow once because of some cousin who tried to blind me by hurling a glass jar towards my left eye and just narrowly missing my actual eyeball. Now there’s a scar in its place. Currently, I have multiple gashes on my arms and legs because Cooper.

Do you like hash browns? They’re okay, but I can’t have them all the time because I find them way too greasy for my enjoyment.

Do you do hash? No.

How often do you use hash tags? Almost never, unless I’m fighting for a political cause like BLM or calling for free mass testing. Hashtags got real lame real quick when they started getting popular around 7-8 years ago.

Do you have long eyelashes? Yes, it’s my favorite feature of mine and I get compliments on them fairly often.

How often do you lash out at others? For what reasons? Not often, but when I do it’s almost always because I’m already buckling under immense pressure and probably have nowhere to release my stress onto. I don’t turn it into an automatic mechanism though, because I don’t want to make others feel like shit for things they didn’t do.

Do you like mashed potatoes? I enjoy them but they’re not really my favorite dish. I can do 4-5 spoonfuls of them before getting over them haha, like I can never seem to finish a serving of it.

Do you typically gnash your teeth together? No I HATEEEE the sensation and the sound that it makes. My sister grinds her teeth in her sleep and it drives me nuts whenever we’re on a family trip and we share a room.

Do you know someone who speaks balderdash? Sure.

What color is the backsplash of your kitchen? White.

Have you ever had any rashes before? What kinds? Yes. Back in high school I used to occasionally get a random itchy area on my leg and whenever I’d scratch it, it would turn into an ugly patch of rashes. I never figured what the condition was but I’m just glad it’s never happened again.

Do you typically make rash decisions? Sometimes. I really tend to impulsive. The last one I made was swapping a full-time job opportunity for an internship with much lesser pay. Even I was surprised by how quick I jumped into the latter, but I like the nature of the work of the internship SO MUCH MORE, and I dunno if I’ll be happy with what I would be doing in the full-time gig. Plus, internships here are never even paid ones, so the fact that they even offered to give me an allowance per day just goes to show how good the company I’m interning for is.

Have you ever worn a sash before? I probably have but I don’t remember what for anymore.

Do you often find that your personality clashes with others’ around you? Yes, but I’m also good at adjusting to all kinds of personalities so I’m not too bothered by the clashes.

Whose tires would you like to slash? Any racist’s tires, really.

Who would you like to smash with? No one at the moment.

What was the last thing you smashed out of anger? I don’t really tend to be violent when I’m angry. The last angry thing I did was to throw my head against a pillow, but that’s it.

Do you have a secret stash of something hidden anywhere? Nopes.

How often do you take out the trash? My parents prefer to do it so they don’t really ask us to.

Has anyone ever told you that you look like trash? Other than myself, no.

Do you like to splash in the pool, the bathtub, or in puddles? I wouldn’t call it my favorite thing to do; I hate the mess that it makes, ha.

Have you ever thrashed violently before? What was the cause? Yeah. I probably embarrassed my grandma for life when I did so, but it was when I had to be confined to the hospital and they needed to insert the IV thing on me. It sent me into the worst panic attack I’ve ever gotten and I ended up thrashing a lot and several people had to hold me down so that the nurse could stick the thing into my wrist.

Do you own and use an eyelash curler? No. Those make me cringe so bad...I hate how they get so close to the eyeball. Kate brought her makeup kit to school everyday and she always made me try to learn how to curl my own lashes, but it just made me feel so nauseated lol

Have you ever experienced backlash from others? A few times before.

Have you ever had whiplash before? Never.

ATH

Do you prefer a shower or a bath? Shower. Much more efficient. Baths are relaxing, but I don’t like how I end up bathing in what’s pretty much dirty water.

Have you ever given another person or an animal a bath before? I’ve only given Kimi a bath. I let my dad bathe Cooper since he’s too much of a handful for now, plus I think it’s fair if we bathe one dog each haha.

How good are you at math? I can answer advanced algebra, statistics, and geometry questions if you give me enough time to review and get reacquainted with the formulas, but I’m perfectly alright with no longer revisiting trigonometry and calculus for the rest of my life.

Do you feel like your life is on the right path? Career-wise it definitely is; I’m happy with the direction it’s going right now. Everything else seems so turbulent at the moment and I can’t say I’m happy.

Are there any bike paths or footpaths in your area? We have sidewalks, if they count.

Have you ever gone on the warpath before? Not really. I do get very angry with certain people if I think they’ve been behaving badly, but I rarely get confrontational.

Is there a birdbath in your yard? No, those aren’t common here at all. I’ve only seen those in cartoons, I think.

Have you ever had a footbath before? Nopes.

What’s the last thing you’ve had to deal with the aftermath of? I can think of one thing but it’s still pretty triggering so I don’t feel like bringing it up at the moment.

Have you ever witnessed a bloodbath? Thankfully I haven’t. I get so queasy when I see blood though; it’s so much better off this way because I wouldn’t be able to deal with one at all.

Are you a sociopath or a psychopath? Do you know anyone who might be? No lol. I don’t think I know of anyone who could possibly be either. I wouldn’t want to associate myself with one in the first place.

Who’s the last person that you faced the wrath of? Myself.

AMP

Do you have an instrument that you plug into an amp? Nope, I own 0 instruments.

When’s the last time you felt amped up? What was the reason? Thursday morning when I parked in front of the office I was gonna have my job interview in. I needed to hype myself up to feel confident so I spent a couple of minutes in the car pumping my chest and screaming and shit, lol

Have you ever gone to day camp or overnight sleepaway camp? No. My mom wouldn’t have allowed me as a kid.

When’s the last time you felt like a champ? It’s been a while. I haven’t exactly felt like I’ve been winning in anything.

Last time it was damp where you lived? This afternoon. It was really humid for a good few hours and then it ended up raining.

Weirdest place you’ve ever had a cramp? My index finger whenever I’d try to use chopsticks; and my toes when I hiked in Sagada. The toe cramps were so bizarre I was actually laughing-crying the whole time the tour guide was treating me; my dad was taking photos of me too loooooool

Do you refer to your grandfather as “Gramps”? No. I call both of them Lolo, which is our local version of Grandpa.

Have you ever worn a headlamp before? No, I’ve never really had to.

Do you have a ramp anywhere in your house? I don’t think so, no.

Has anyone ever called you “scamp” before? No.

How many lamps are in the room you’re in? How many are actually turned on? There is one lamp, and it is currently turned on.

Do you stamp your feet when you are angry? It doesn’t tend to be a behavior of mine, no.

Last time you used a postage stamp? Not sure...grade school, probably? I never used those a lot.

Are there streetlamps on your street? What time do they turn on? Yep. I don’t keep track of their schedule but a safe guess would be either 6 or 6:30 PM.

Last place/area that you wanted to revamp? My room.

Do you know anyone who is a tramp? No.

Have you seen Lady and the Tramp before? Not the full movie but I’ve seen a lot of excerpts from watching Magic English as a kid.

Do you know anyone with a “tramp stamp”? I don’t think so.

AWK/AULK/ALK

Is the squawk of certain birds annoying? Which ones? I’ve never found any of them annoying, but maybe that’s also because there aren’t a lot of different birds flying around where I live.

Do you prefer hawks or falcons? And…why? I don’t have a preference; I’ve never encountered either.

Has anyone ever watched you like a hawk before? That sounds a little creepy and I wouldn’t want to know if anyone has.

What was the last thing you used caulk on?   I’m almost positive I’ve never handled that, haha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[howrry]

forbidden fruit: pt.3

a/n: the final installment of this series, HIGHLY requested! nice and simple but i just wanted to tie up the loose ends of this saga. back to writing random one-shots with no plot!!!!

w/c: 2.5k

warning: my first piece that’s smut-free whaaaat? it’s got some implied stuff and swearing tho lol. if you want smut go check out everything else on my masterlist hahaha

***

If there's one thing Y/N knew would piss Harry (or any pain-in-the-ass guy for that matter) off, it was disappear.

See, she'd been given an opportunity to switch into another Calculus class, which took place during her homeroom class with Harry. She got out of seeing him in the morning and got college credit for that dreaded math class. Win-win.

Harry found this childish. Sure, he'd been a bit of a jackass pulling her around like that, but hiding from him? And even worse, shoving her new exclusive relationship with that fuckin' athlete in his face? Totally immature.

She twirled her hair in her pretty fingers as she flirted with Luke in the morning before class. He looked like such a try-hard leaning casually on the lockers, and Harry wanted to gag. Y/N would hold Luke's hand during lunch under the table and he would grin like a moron. Did they have to be so corny?

Plus any interaction Harry tried to have with her was thwarted in some way. Either she'd see him coming and dart out of his way to avoid talking to him, or he'd surprise her and someone else would grab her attention. He even swallowed his pride and texted her, to no response.

Then, H almost started to get worried when it seemed she wasn't even at school. He never saw her at her locker, nor in any of the halls, not even at lunch practically in Luke's lap. On the third day of Y/N's disappearance, Harry had to get answers. He charmed one of the class gossips at the beginning of the lunch period.

"Hey, do you know where Y/N is? I need to get trig answers off of her," he lied smoothly and the girl raised an eyebrow.

She pulled a red lollipop out of her mouth, clacking it against her teeth. "She's been eating lunch in Coach Thomas's classroom while he goes off campus to eat."

He nodded, muttered a thank you to the girl, and dove around her before she could acknowledge him. Harry darted past people littering the hallways to get to the coach's classroom and barged in, spooking Y/N eating inside.

"Christ, H, you scared the f--" she started, but of course was cut off by him.

"So, you've been skippin' out on lunch. What's up w'that?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets and taking steps towards the desk she sat in.

"Since when do I have to line my lunch plans up with yours?" she bit, followed by a huffed "freak".

He snorted. "You're avoiding me," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and why wouldn't I? You bother the fuck out of me every day for no reason! Have you ever thought about that? You just piss me off and I've never done anything to you!" Y/N was mad now, slamming her hands on the desk.

Harry stumbled over words at first. He never expected to put him in his place like that. "Y'just annoy me, okay!" he blurted. "Yeh know the answer to every question in class, your hair always looks perfect, everybody likes you, and yet you still get on my nerves!"

Y/N's lips parted and she sucked in air. "Oh my God!"

"What?!" Harry reared back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You like me!" Y/N squealed. She hopped up from her chair and ran around the desk. "That's why you've been a total weirdo recently. All jealous and pulling me away from Luke. Trying to find to where I went during lunch." She poked a manicured finger into his chest. "You act like a dick to hide it, but you like me!" It was like he couldn't slap the smug look off her face.

He snorted, leaning back until the back of his thighs hit a desk. "You wish, princess. Just because I said everyone likes you doesn't mean I include myself in that demographic."

Y/N took one step back from him, eyeing his face up and down, trying to read deeper. He was made suddenly very uncomfortable but kept up a solid facade. She pursed her soft lips together and shrugged. "You seem quite sure of that." Harry was too frozen to respond. "If that's how you feel, then I guess this conversation is over." Y/N whirled around on the heel of her foot and packed her belongings. "See you... whenever I see you, Styles," she concluded on her way out.

And "whenever she saw him" turned out to be way sooner than she thought. She supposed his ego would take at least a few days to recover before he'd approach again.

It was after school that day, when she was getting into her car to go home. As she buckled herself in, her passenger door opening suddenly (which totally scared the hell out of her, by the way). Harry casually slid into the car and the scent of his cologne followed him. God, did he just put it on? she thought.

"Harry?!" she blurted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He pulled the rearview mirror to face himself, checking his hair and not putting it back. "One of m'mates is throwing a party tonight, and you're gonna come." He kept eye contact during this entire statement with zero inflection.

"You think I wanna go to a party... with you?" she asked, completely baffled.

He popped his knuckles, almost self-consciously. "Tha's what I said. It'll be fun."

She clutched the steering wheel, in awe of his audacity. "I can't stand you. You're delusional if you think I'd go." Y/N grabbed the rear view mirror and adjusted it back, annoyed.

Harry reached over and playfully shoved her shoulder. "That's just it, pet. I'm completely delusional. My car'll be outside yours at 11:30." He grinned like a maniac before leaving her car and slamming the door behind him.

Well.

Don't think for a second that Y/N didn't hate herself when she found herself climbing into H's car that night, because she absolutely did. However, regardless of how she felt about herself, she loved a party.

Harry was delighted when she joined him in his car. Not so much at her presence, but at her bending to his will. Almost made his dick twitch a little in his pants.

Y/N got a little antsy when, as the drive progressed, she realized this party was near Luke's neighborhood. She considered for a moment that this was a trick pulled by Harry, but when he whipped into a bumping house's driveway a few blocks away from Luke, she relaxed. She didn't even have to worry about Luke potentially being here; he'd never party with any of Harry's people.

Once arriving after a painfully quiet car ride, Harry lost Y/N almost immediately. He swears he had her once he opened the front door, but as soon as she ducked inside, she was nowhere to be found. Sure, there were a lot of people in attendance, but it was ridiculous trying to find her.

Meanwhile, Y/N had one thing on her agenda: getting fucked up. She pulled out all her stops-- asking the basketball guys for hits of their Juuls, slapping the bags that the preps held, partnering with any and everyone in beer pong and taking more drinks than the opposing team landed one.

It wasn't until she was on her winning streak at the table until H finally found her again. His jaw immediately clenched when his eyes landed on her partner. The guy was tall and broad, and the two of them seemed to have great chemistry. In any other circumstance, he'd grab her and pull her into the nearest locked room, but the game was a perfect way for Y/N to have fun without Harry making a scene.

Finally, they stopped doing so well, and H at first thought this was gonna be a good thing. If they lost, they'd have to be replaced with another couple and the confusion of the team-switching would be a great time to grab her.

But he forgot one key problem-- losing meant drinking. And for the remaining 7 cups the other team scored, Y/N and the mystery beer pong player invented new toasts to their losses. By the last cup being made, the two of them interlocked their arms and drank like that. No one had been watching since everyone was celebrating the winning team on their shot, except for Harry, of course.

His original plan was back on track, and he slithered through the party-goers to Y/N. He reached out for her arm, and when she realized who was grabbing at her, her face brightened a little. Drunk, clearly.

"Come with me, please," he asked, trying to keep his tone as innocent as possible.

"Hey, what's going on here?" the mystery beer pong partner interjected, noticing Harry trying to steal her. "I thought we could try to play agai--"

"It's urgent, actually," he hissed, patience wearing thin. He gave up on being innocuous and lightly tugged Y/N his direction towards the stairs.

"It's fiiiine!" Y/N chirped behind her, leaving her parter confused.

Harry guided her upstairs and pushed the first door he found open, and it was empty. When they were both inside he lazily swung it shut and leaned against the wall.

"Harry, you can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?" he quipped. "I'm just taking you out of a social setting while you're drunk so you don't do anything stupid."

She scoffed. "Is that your new tactic? Acting like you want what's best for me. You hate me, but at the same time you like me. You're the psycho here."

"At least I know what I want," he purred, peering down at her.

Y/N's glassy eyes widened. "Oh no," she said, backing up a bit. "No no no no no. I'm a loyal girlfriend," she stated indignantly.

He snorted. "Yeah, loyal girlfriends hang all over any lad who gives them attention at a party."

She crossed her arms, smirking a little. "There's that jealousy again. I was just having a good time on my own at a party you invited me to. I didn't say I'd be your date."

Harry stared at her for a good half-minute. His eyes pored over her whole face, and she almost got a bit insecure but held her composition. He sucked in air sharply through his nose. "Tell me you really like Luke. Tell me you're not just acting like this to spite me."

Her jaw dropped open to answer him, but nothing came out. It frustrated her-- she wanted to say those things and she knew it would get rid of him once and for all... but they stopped right at her tongue.

Harry's gaze did not weaken. "Silence isn't an answer, darling," he growled.

Time to play another card. "Maybe Luke is just really convenient, but I still don't want you," she spat at him. Y/N pushed past him and swung open the door, to find none other than her ever-so-convenient boyfriend, Luke. And by the look of his face, he'd heard it all.

"Luke!" she blurted, totally in shock. "What are-- I was, uh-- what're you doing here?"

"You played beer pong with my friend Ashton, and when you disappeared upstairs with some guy, he called me," he explained, voice low. "So, convenient, huh?"

Y/N immediately clambered for something to say to explain herself, not having time to get angry with Harry snickering behind her. "Luke, you don't understand, he's been a huge pain in the ass and won't leave me alone. I didn't mean what I said-- it's the context."

Luke's angry eyes flickered from her to the shrugging guy in the room. "Yeah, I think I get the context. You've been fucking my girlfriend."

"Actually, for most of it, she wasn't your girlfriend, but--" Harry started, but a harsh glare from Y/N shut him up.

Luke exhaled through his nose. "I expected this shit from Styles, but I never thought you were a slut," he seethed, sending a sharp pain through her stomach.

"Now fucking watch it," Harry warned, stepping up behind her. "Go write a fuckin' song about it, but have some goddamn dignity."

Luke's jaw dropped to retaliate, but upon making eye contact with H's fiery eyes, he stormed off in a huff. She turned back to Harry with tears in her eyes. He fully expected her to scream at him, push at him, and run away, but she did the one thing he never expected her to do. She lunged forward, dug her head in his chest, and sobbed quietly.

He truly had no idea what to do. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry it out, rubbing her back and stroking her soft hair until she finally stopped. When she pulled back, her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were pink.

"C-can you take me home?" she whispered, and he nodded. He even took off his own jacket to give to her, and helped her conspicuously leave the party.

When he rolled up to her house, she took off her seatbelt almost immediately. "Walk me inside," she demanded softly.

"What about your parents--"

"Out of town," was all she replied, and left the car before he even turned the car off. So much for walking her in.

Y/N left her front door open behind her as Harry scrambled to shut off his car and follow her inside. She went straight to the couch in her living room and bundled herself up in a fleece throw.

Harry stepped into the living room, boots creaking on the wooden floor. "Y/N... I'm sorry about Lu--"

"Don't," she snapped, breathing heavily. "You're not sorry. That couldn't have been a better outcome for you."

"Are y'kidding?" he blurted. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I tried to get you to stop dating a guy you and I both know you didn't care about. And don't give me any shit about you really being into him-- we all heard what you said back at the party."

She went quiet. Her eyes trailed along his torso as he got closer and plopped down on the couch a few feet from her. Finally, three soft words slipped from her mouth and Harry was almost positive he'd imagined them. "I want you."

"Come again?" he perked up a little.

"I want you," she said again, stronger this time. "I want you, and I want you to not make me think that's a mistake. Tell me these games are over, or get the fuck out of my life forever."

He couldn't believe his ears. Harry's arms reached out for her and pulled her onto his lap. "Pet, I want you so much. I thought the only way I could talk to you was to get on your nerves but I'm so sorry."

Y/N smirked, tossing her arms around his neck. "Are you messing with me? Is this a really extended, fucked-up prank?"

He pressed his lips against her jaw gently. "I'll never act like that again, darling."

Y/N giggled and leaned down to take a soft bite out of Harry's neck. As he picked her up and carried her to her room, she was finally glad to get a true taste of her once-forbidden fruit.

[avengerscompound]

The Five Stages - 5. Acceptance

The Five Stages: An Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2247

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings:  Age difference (not used as a kink), Drama, Angst, pregnancy

Synopsis:  You go to visit Tony’s daughter in an attempt to build bridges. It ends with a dramatic turn of events.

5. Acceptance

The drive up to Westchester is far from a pleasant experience.  Not just because the traffic was thick and you found yourself not moving at all at some points.  Not just because there was a storm rapidly approaching and you were worried that you were going to get trapped in it.  But because you were on your way to meet with Sarah.  Sarah the heavily pregnant daughter of Tony Stark.  Sarah who was basically your step-daughter if you thought too hard about it.  Sarah who was your age plus a couple of months.  Sarah who you were pretty sure hated your guts.

The worst part is you need to eat humble pie.  You really hope she’s serving.

After what feels like an endless journey you pull Tony’s red Tesla Roadster into Sarah’s driveway.  You take a deep breath looking up at the house that Tony had purchased.  It is a large, white, colonial home in a good neighborhood and has been fitted with extra security.  The kind that recognizes you and has let you pull the car up to the house unannounced in the first place.  You take a few deep breaths and get out heading to the door.

It takes you a moment before you can muster up the courage to press the doorbell and just as you go to do it, it flies open.  “What are you doing here?”  Sarah demands.

You startle and take a step back.  “I - I uh… it’s about your dad.”  You stutter.

The look of fear that crosses her features is both genuine and so familiar.  You’ve seen it so many times in Tony when he’s right on the precipice of a panic attack.  “Tony?  Is he okay?  Was it a mission?  I told him he should stop.  Why can’t he listen?  Is he in the hospital?   We should go.”

You reach out and take her hand and her eyes snap to yours.  “He’s okay.  It’s not serious.  Can we talk?”

She looks around wildly again before letting you inside.  You follow her into her kitchen and she directs you to the kitchen table.  “Can I get you a drink?”  She asks.  Her face scrunches up momentarily and she rubs the small of her back.

“I’m fine.  Are you okay?”  You ask.

“Yeah.  Yeah.  Braxton Hicks.  Have fun with them when you get them.”  She says sitting opposite you.  “What is it then?  What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly.  “Tony.  Your dad.  He has really bad anxiety.  When something’s bothering him, he can’t sleep.  He has panic attacks.  He eats really badly.”

“He’s having them now?”  She asks and narrows her eyes at you.  “You think it’s because of me don’t you?”

“Yes.  No.  Not exactly.  I think… it’s everything.  I think it’s because he suddenly has an adult daughter and a grandson on the way.  I think it’s because he’s nearly fifty and expecting twins.  Mostly I think it’s because you and I don’t get along.”  You explain.

She tries to fold her arms over her chest but the size of her belly and the fact her breasts have swollen make it awkward.  She lets her arms drop and makes another pained expression.  “If you think…”

“If I think what?  That we can maybe be civil for a man who is in both our lives?  Is that really too much to ask?”  You implore.

“Just because you sleep with him and manage to get knocked up doesn’t mean I’m going to let you take advantage of him.  He’s a good person and he doesn’t deserve that.”  She says.  The words sound almost like pleading though.  Like she is begging you to have some compassion.

You start laughing.  It comes in slowly at first and then becomes slightly hysterical until you can’t control it and you’re doubled over and wheezing.  The whole time Sarah stare at you with a mixture of anger and confusion.  “What’s so funny?”  She asks.

“Don’t you get it?  I thought the same thing about you.”  You wheeze.

“You thought I was after his money?  He’s my dad!”  She says sounding affronted.

There is a loud crash of thunder and the rain comes in heavily against the window.  You both jump and look around startled before laughing uneasily.  You look back at Sarah and smile weakly.

“I’m sorry.  It’s just…”  You shake your head.  “When I met you, you obviously didn’t like me.  Then, all Tony did was go out with you and come home and tell me about the new things he bought for you.  He’s really excited about being a grandfather and it felt like you were taking advantage.  I get the baby stuff, but he’s buying you cars and houses.”

“I didn’t ask for all this.  I told him I didn’t want all this.  He just insists.  He keeps saying that he missed too many things, and if he’d raised me I would have had all this and more.  I just want him in my life.  But what does that even matter to you?  At least he’s related to me.  You’re just some…”  She catches herself.  “You drove here in a sports car.”

“Yeah.  His sports car.  That he owns.  And is fitted with FRIDAY so that I can’t have a car accident and has extra safety features that he installed himself.”  You explain.  “It took me so long to come to terms with the gifts.  It made me feel bought and I had to start making things for him so it felt like that there was any kind of even balance of power.  That’s why he has origami animals everywhere.  I know it’s dumb, but he seems to like them and I needed something even if it is dumb.”

“You’re telling me that you aren’t with him for the money?”  She asks, still looking at you suspiciously.

You shake your head.

“Then why?  He’s so much older than you.  You always call him ‘old man’.  I was sure it was a sugar daddy thing.”  She says.

You shake your head laughing a little.  “The old man thing is an in-joke.  From before we were together.  He used to call me new meat when I started working with Bruce.  I’m with him despite how scared I am of how public he is, and Iron Man, and the money, and the age.  We’re kinda the same person.  There’s a reason we’re not married.  It hasn’t even crossed either of our minds that that’s a thing you do.”

She makes a pained sound and rubbed the small of her back and her stomach.

“Are you sure it’s just Braxton Hicks?”  You ask looking at her with your brow furrowed.

She nods.  “Yeah.  They’ve been on and off all week.”  She replies waving you off.  “I’ll never get the May-December thing.”

“I think you and I maybe need to remember that Tony is actually really smart and maybe we need to trust his judgment.  He doesn’t let people in easily.  Not since… the thing… with that guy who was friends with his dad.”  You explain lamely.  “If he has let us in he trusts us and we both need to accept that.”

She takes a breath in, holds it, and lets it out.  “Okay.  You’re right.  If it’s hurting Tony we should try.  Who knows, maybe we can be friends?”

“I’d like that.  I did hope we could be when I heard about you.”   You say.

There is a brief silence between the two of you, and you both just sit awkwardly glancing around the kitchen.  “You went to Hackley right?”  She asks after a little while.

“Yeah.  That’s right.”   You reply.

“Did you know a Kelly Hanlon?”

You nod.  “Yeah, we took a few things together.  Biology and Calculus.”

“She’s my cousin.”  She says.

You laugh and she stands up.  “You sure you don’t want coffee or something?”

“Maybe just water.”  You say with a smile.

She starts to walk over in that trademark waddle of the heavily pregnant and she stops suddenly and holds her side.  A wet patch forms on her pants and she looks down.  “Oh great, I peed myself.  No one said that was a side effect.  But they don’t tell you shit.  Have you found that?”

You look her up and down.  “You sure you peed yourself?  That wasn’t your water breaking?”  You ask.

“Isn’t it more like a gush?  I thought it was like a gush?  That’s what it always is on TV.”  She says slightly defensively.  “It can’t be.  I’m not due for three weeks.  And David is away until Tuesday.”

You shake your head.  “I don’t know.  Let me… I think it can be not much.”  You get out your phone and have a look.  “It says if it’s colorless or odorless but it can be a slow leak.”

“Oh shit.  Shit.”  She says.  Let me… I’ll go clean up.  Can you wait?”  

You nod. “Of course.”

You wait patiently and when she comes back she looks panicked and about ready to cry.  “I think I’m in labor.  I had two contractions while I was checking and it’s still trickling out.”

You get up and put your arm around her.  “It’s gonna be fine.  But I think… if that’s how quickly they’re coming we need to get to the hospital.”

“I can’t have my baby yet!”  She cries.  “David isn’t here.”

“Okay.  Okay.”  You say trying to get your thoughts in order.  “You call David. Tell him.  And the hospital. Maybe you can get your mom to meet us there.  I’ll call Tony.  Then I’ll drive you.”

She nods and leaves the room again.  You take out your phone and dial Tony.

“Yes, dear?”   Tony says in a way of greeting.  You can hear the banging of metal, so you know he’s in the lab.

“I’m at Sarah’s house.”  You say.

There’s a pause where everything goes silent.  “Why?”

“I was… doesn’t matter.  She’s in labor.”  You say.

This is greeted by a loud clang.  “What?  Is she okay?”

“David’s not here.  You need to get him and you need to meet us at the hospital.”

“On it.”  He says quickly and hangs up.

You go to find Sarah and find her frantically throwing things into a bag as she talks on the phone.  You help her pack a couple of times pausing to rub her back through a contraction.

You eventually get to the car while she’s still on the phone with her mom and start driving to the hospital in the pelting rain.  When you are almost there you think you catch sight of one of the Iron Man suits flying overhead.  It’s confirmed when you pull up to Maternity and it’s just standing there like a silent sentinel watching the door.

When you step through the doors Tony rushes over to you in that tornado with style way that he does.  Making himself the center of attention without actually causing any damage.  “Are you okay?  We need a nurse over here!  Do you want a wheelchair?  What do we have to do to get a pregnant woman admitted here? I have a Quin going to collect David.  He should be here in an hour.”

A nurse and an orderly come rushing over.  Tony Stark has a lot of pull and even in a hospital, it gets you seen fast.  You follow along as Sarah gets wheeled to a delivery room and she tells the nurse about when the labor pains started.  How far apart the contractions are now.  When her water broke.

At the door, you stop and Tony goes to follow you in but Sarah stops him.  “No.  I’m not…”  She looks back at you with a pained expression and you get it totally.  This is going to be personal and messy and she isn’t ready to have Tony see her like that.

“Sorry, gramps, you can wait out here with me.”  You say grabbing his arm.

“Can you come in?”  She asks still looking at you.  “Just until my mom gets here?”

Tony looks at you imploringly and you nod.  “Yeah of course.”

You sit in the delivery room as Sarah is poked and prodded.  She has her blood pressure tested and they check to see how dilated she is.  She holds your hand the whole time.  Each contraction she has, you rub her back through.  Finally, Evelyn shows up and you tag out of the room as quickly as you can without making it look like you are as desperate to leave as you feel.

You flop down on the couch Tony is sitting.  He’s looking around anxiously as he drinks coffee from a white styrofoam cup.

“I am so glad we’re having a planned c-section let me tell you.  That was stressful.”  You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

His hand goes protectively to the swell of your stomach.  “Are you all okay?”

You nod.  “Yeah.  Me and these guys are fine.  Sarah is scared but they stuck this weird wire thing up inside her and attached it to the babies head.”

“They did what?”  Tony yelps.

“I know!  I was like ‘what the fuck is this futuristic nightmare show?’”  You say.  “But it monitored his heartbeat and he’s fine.  She’s pretty far along though.  I hope David makes it in time.”

So you wait.  Sometimes sitting.  Sometimes pacing.  At one point you fall asleep curled up on the couch your head in Tony’s lap.  Occasionally Evelyn comes out to get ice and update Tony about what’s going on.  The air is always chilly between them when she does.

David shows up after about an hour and a half.  He runs in and looks around frantically.  “Where is she?”  He asks.

Tony points at the room.  “Hurry up and you might get to play catcher.”

Less than thirty minutes after he goes in a huge stuffed dog, the biggest arrangement of flowers you’ve ever seen in person and a huge bunch of balloons gets hauled into the maternity ward.  Tony gets up and organizes a room to have it put in.  Not long after he gets back Evelyn comes out.

“Well, you have a grandson.”  She says.

You and Tony both stand and look at her.  “Can we go in and see them?”  Tony asks.

She gives a curt nod and you and Tony go into the room a little tentatively.  Sarah is lying back, sweaty and exhausted, and wrapped in a blanket.  Her newborn son is swaddled and in her arms.

“Hey, Sarah.  Look at what you did.”  Tony says quietly approaching her.

“Congratulations, grandpa.”  She replies smiling at him.  “Do you want to hold him?”

He looks terrified for a split second.  “Yeah.  Yes.  You don’t mind?”

“Better get used to it.”  She answers.

Tony awkwardly takes the infant and a nurse comes and instructs him how to support the head.  You have never seen him look so much like a fish out of water.

“Look at you.  You’re a natural, old man.”  You say with a laugh.

“Does he have a name?”  Tony asks as he looks down at the tiny bundle, rocking him just a little.

“He does.”  Sarah answers.  “He’s Paul Anthony Lee.”

“You named him after me?”  Tony asks, his voice cracking.

“We did,”  Sarah says with a smile.  “Is that okay?”

He nods but doesn’t say anything.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day.”  You tease.  “Tony Stark is lost for words.”

Tony looks at you and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh.  “You are in so much trouble.”

“Tony.  Why don’t you let Paul’s Granny hold him.”  Sarah says, nodding in your direction.

Tony starts laughing and begins handing the baby over to you.  “Why you gotta play me like that?”  You tease.  “Granny?  I thought we were friends, Sarah.”

// NEXT

[ivadeshin]

Pasadena Iced Coffee (8/8)

(Sequel to Five Soda Maximum. Catch up on previous chapters on Ao3.)

Caleb takes the first shower, and by the time Molly’s had his and dried off, Caleb is nearly asleep.

“Welcome back,” Caleb mumbles dreamily into the pillow, reaching out toward the door that Molly just opened. Molly grins.

“You look comfortable.” He looks out into the living area, where Frumpkin has hopped down from the chair and is trotting over. “We’ve got a plus one, is that okay with you? Should I leave the door open?”

“Ja, if you don’t mind.” Caleb turns onto his side and squints his eyes open as Frumpkin hops onto the bed, stepping carefully over Caleb’s arm and then leg as he decides on a place to settle. “Leave room for Mollymauk. He gets priority, versteht?”

Molly hangs his towel up on the peg on the back of the door, leaving it half-open and turning the lights off. When he walks over and gets under the thin bed sheet, Frumpkin seems to be doing some serious calculus, trying to determine just how he fits into this new equation. “There’s still room,” Molly promises, wriggling a little until Caleb’s comfortably on his back and Molly’s half on top of him. They’ve napped like this a few times, and it seems to work best. “This alright?”

“Very very alright,” Caleb agrees. He looks relaxed. Still warm from the shower, hair fluffy, a little smile on his lips. Molly can’t stop looking at him.

“And you feel okay?”

“I can feel that... it happened, but it is not sore. Just.” Caleb’s brows knit together a moment. “Distinct?”

Molly nods into his shoulder. “Do you have an alarm set for class tomorrow?”

“Lab is not until afternoon.”

“I said what I said.”

Caleb laughs. “I have one, ja, danke.”

“Bitte.” Molly nibbles his shoulder a moment before kissing it. “Ich liebe dich.”

The little sigh Caleb makes is so perfect. “Ich liebe dich auch.”

“Schlaf gut.”

“Schalf gut.”

**

Molly wakes up slowly, to a gentle light coming on in increments. Birds begin chirping, very quietly at first, then louder. It takes him a few moments to realize that it’s a recording. Caleb mentioned adding some soft wakeup app to his SilverThread suite. This must be that.

“C’lb,” Molly says into the warm shoulder his mouth is pressed against. The shoulder moves, turning toward him, and as Molly moves back to make room, he runs out of bed. This thing is tiny. “I think your thing is goin’ off.”

“Mm.” Caleb pushes himself upright, squinting through a halo of mussed red hair. “Yes. This is the alarm.”

“It’s nice.” Molly curls around Caleb, gathering more of his warmth and preventing him from laying back down again. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty. So I can...” He rubs his face a few times. “...take you to food... before Lab.”

It’s too early for complex English. That’s very fair. “Do you have everything packed for class?”

“Ja.” Caleb seems to be working on something in his head. “Let us thrive today,” he says finally, in heavily accented Infernal. He starts wiggling out of bed just as Molly realizes what he said.

“You said the morning phrase!” He almost yells.

“Well, it is morning,” Caleb reasons. He begins picking clothes off the floor, pushing them into hamper and yawning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say it!”

“We have almost never... seen each ozzer... in ze morning.” Caleb straightens up and dedicates some serious time to wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “I can make the ‘sch’ sound... not bad. But the oz... ozzer two phonemes... I know zey are still very bad.”

“Your accent is so thick in the morning.” Molly smiles fondly.

“I know, I am... bad. For mornings.” Caleb shakes his head back and forth a few times, making his hair shake out more or less into place. “Coffee? Bitte?”

**

The little diner is only a few blocks off, and it’s got very little seating left. It looks simple and cheap, so it makes sense that it’s busy - Molly guesses that the majority of the other people here are probably college students as well, low-budget and starving.

A half-elf woman comes by and pours them both coffee, promising to come back soon to take their orders. After adding two sugars and downing half of it, Caleb seems to be more awake.

“I thought you gave up on Infernal,” Molly says. He remembers how much Caleb struggled with it in Junior year, back when they started dating - couldn’t blame him, considering there’s three unique consonant sounds.

Caleb shrugs, but he looks a little caught out. “I read an article about language preservation and got back into it. Or, tried to.” He tilts his head. “What is the one you say to other tieflings? Ones you don’t know?”

Molly laughs. “’Another one’,” he says, and then says it slowly in Infernal. “It’s not an old traditional one, it’s more of a modern joke.”

Caleb tilts his head.

“Like, ‘another tiefling! In the same place out in public! Imagine!’” Molly frowns, feeling like he’s not explaining it very well. “It’s sort of a tongue-in-cheek way to acknowledge the person, saying hi without starting a conversation or anything.”

“Infernal is sassy, I think.”

Molly considers this. “That’s fair.”

“Good morning,” a quiet voice says, and Molly looks up to see a young halfling man passing by and nodding his head to Caleb. Caleb nods back, a little blearily. When the halfling’s across the room at a new table, Molly tilts his head to Caleb.

“A biochemistry major that lives in my building.” He makes a guilty face. “I don’t remember his name. We do not have any classes together.”

“Shit, I hate that.” Molly thinks about it. “Is there a resident... registry... thing? Somewhere? You could look him up?”

Caleb considers this. “There must be. Caduceus must have one... I am sure if I saw his name on paper I would recognize it.”

“I used to feel like you never forgot anything.”

Caleb laughs. “The last couple months has. Pushed that to its limit, I think.” He lifts his chin toward a couple sharing pancakes in the corner. “I should know her name, too. She was in one of my classes for two weeks, then dropped it ... I think it starts with... hm.” Caleb worries his lip.

“You’re not a robot after all,” Molly teases.

“You will love me still, even if I am just a boring human?”

“Absolutely,” Molly says with confidence. “Pink and squishy. It’s what I signed up for.”

Caleb blushes, smiling down at the menu. “Will you tell me more Infernal phrases?”

“Only if you promise not to beat yourself up for not being able to say them first try.”

“No promises.”

Molly rolls his eyes. “Be safe on your journey,” he says slowly in Infernal, and then translates it. “You usually only say it when you know you’re not gonna see someone for a long time. If you say it to like, someone you’re gonna see tomorrow, you’re probably really old and old-school.”

“All the phrases sound old school,” Caleb admits.

“Yeah.” Molly shrugs. “I don’t know, most of the other ones are just for the home.”

“So you never really used them,” Caleb hazards.

“Not that I can remember.”

“But do you like them?”

Molly mulls it over, leaning back in his chair. “Did you wanna learn the home ones because...?”

Caleb has taken this moment to take another long sip from his coffee.

“Are you trying to make sure I feel at home?” Molly laughs, almost immediately regretting this reaction when Caleb looks hurt. “I just- no, it’s funny because it’s so much. You already - honey.” He reaches his hand out across the table. “I’m laughing because you don’t need to do all this.” He waits until Caleb, reluctantly, puts his hand out to be held. “You don’t need to make me want to be here.” Caleb doesn’t say anything, looking down at the menu with no expression. “With you.”

“I have... overdone it,” Caleb says carefully.

“You haven’t ruined anything, you just did more than you needed to. Even if you never researched troupes, if you never picked Infernal back up, it’s -” Molly squeezes his hand. “You’re still here.”

Caleb nods, but he still looks uncertain. Molly’s tail frets behind him as he tries to find the right words.

“You are my potato,” Molly says quietly, making Caleb’s mouth turn into a reluctant smile. Molly smiles back.

“Maybe not this semester, or this year, but.” Caleb looks up, hesitant but hopeful. “When I’ve made enough money, and I can buy an apartment. You would be happy here? Maybe?”

Molly squeezes tighter. “I mean, I’ve only been here a little while, but I know I wanna be where you are. I’ll keep visiting. And bribing Caduceus into looking the other way. And we’ll figure it out together?”

“Okay. Okay.” Caleb nods, digesting this. He looks cautiously happy.

“As long as you don’t mind that I won’t be able to contribute as much.” Molly watches Caleb become confused. “Money, I mean.”

Caleb’s expression opens in understanding, and then immediately becomes dismissive. “That does not matter.”

“And if I wear makeup and skirts sometimes.”

Caleb fixes him with a familiar hard-headed expression. “We can go shopping for some after my Lab today,” he says levelly.

Molly laughs. “You’re really not going to let me be insecure about that stuff, are you?”

“Nein.”

“Then I won’t let you be insecure about whether I like you.”

“That is... fair.”

**

Molly teaches Caleb the phrase before a good meal: “It will nourish not just our stomachs but our souls.”

[ko-fi]

(Trade complete! If I ever do more, it will be as Pasadena Iced Coffee Refill, and it will be later, after some kickin’ back. Thanks for being lovely readers.)

[baljeet]

in which baz yeets to cairo to avoid simon

or, a snowbaz high school au featuring a kiss that wasn’t supposed to happen, fall out boy, and snowbaz as oblivious gays™

word count: 2328

First of all, my date with Samantha was a mistake. Of course, I didn’t think it was a mistake at the time. She’d caught me off-guard after class one day, and I didn’t realize that dinner on a Friday qualified as a date until we were staring awkwardly at each other across the table at a decidedly grimy Italian joint, and she nearly threw her water glass at me when I said, “So, shall we split the bill?”

Needless to say, Samantha and I don’t speak much anymore. I suppose that’s a good thing—but really, it was nice to have the distraction from some of the more difficult things in my life.

Namely, the fact that I see Simon Snow every day, and he still wraps me in an infuriatingly casual one-armed hug like we’re best bros on the football team. Not that Simon Snow would be caught dead playing football, but that’s beside the point. The point is that I’ve known him for years, since we were both in middle school and I somehow wound up at his lunch table with nowhere else to sit one day, blasting Fall Out Boy on my iPod shuffle and pretending like I wasn’t looking at him smile. I wish I could wax poetic about how I’ve come a long way from then, say some profound shit about how much I’ve grown, but really—

It’s four years later, we still eat lunch together, and I’m still blasting Fall Out Boy and trying to sort out this knot in my chest they like to call emotion (for what it’s worth, however, I’ve graduated to an iPhone). He knows everything about Samantha, though, which was definitely a gutsy move on my part. But something in me is waiting for that moment when I go too far and he calls me back. Scratch that, I realize two days after that disastrous date, staring at the wall because it’s better than looking in the mirror at the confusion in my eyes. He knows everything about Samantha except why I’m leaving her.

Because despite it all, despite the time and the relationships that have come and gone, despite everything that’s happened in these past four years—

I’m hopelessly in love with Simon Snow.

I’ve written about it a thousand times, everything from poems to stories to haikus, and one day I even made a playlist (featuring exactly zero Fall Out Boy songs) for him, but my finger always hovers just above the send button. When did something so small and hospital-blue become so intimidating?

Simon, of course, is completely oblivious. He has no problem hitting that button, sending me random thoughts he has throughout the day, something he thought was funny and wanted to share, the occasional meme—normal friend stuff.

I wonder what it’s like to text without over-analyzing every character.

But it’s something I’m going to have to keep wondering, because I’ve been staring at my phone for the past hour or so, trying to figure out the best way to tell Samantha that while I appreciate her asking me out, it’s not a relationship I’d like to pursue. A sentiment that sounds nice enough in my head, but every time I try and type it out, it reads: ur cool but i’m kind of in love with someone else. and that someone else is a guy so uh have a heart ig and don’t hate me bc i have to sit next to you in bio every day for the next 6 months. Sending a text like that, however, would be disastrous. So I don’t.

Instead, I find her after class on Monday, and say, far too quickly, “Friday was fun but I don’t like you.”

“What?” she replies, stopping in her tracks.

My first thought is that now we’re those irritating kids in the hallway who just stop for no reason, and we’re probably holding everyone up, and it’s only when she says, “Um, Baz?” that I realize she’s asked me a question.

“I don’t like you. Like that. I mean. We can still be friends. If you’re chill. We’re chill, right?” I’m speaking in fragments; it’s probably incoherent, but she seems to get it. Or at least, it looks like she does.

She nods. “Sure. Friends.”

“Perfect!” I reply. “I’m so glad we worked this out.”

Samantha doesn’t reply, but the hallway is too crowded for her to slip away, so we continue to walk side by side. The silence is palpable, and I debate whether or not it would be rude to put my earbuds in until it’s too late because I see my bus.

I practically barrel over to the kid I sit with—I forget if his name is Jack or John—and strike up a conversation. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

Jack/John just gives me a strange look, opting to sit somewhere else today. I slide into my empty two-seater, and my heart skips a beat when I see a text from Simon. did you talk to samantha?

I debate whether or not to reply, though honestly, what would I even say in reply? He thinks I’ve broken things off with her because of some carefully placed comments about “not being over my ex,” but lying to Simon is something I’d rather not do.

I don’t reply, and I’m grateful when a text comes a moment later from another classmate. you really dodged a bullet with samantha, i heard she’s a homophobe.

Without thinking, I forward the message to Simon.

His reply sends chills down my spine that really shouldn’t be there. only one way to find out.

Tuesday brings with it a torrential downpour. I think it’s rather fitting. Today’s music is Paramore, which I haven’t listened to since freshman year, but the rain plus the uncertainty is definitely a Paramore mood.

Despite the rather dreadful weather, Simon’s wearing his brilliant smile, as always, and finishing the last of his breakfast scone, as always. “So, I heard about Samantha—Baz, you went on a date with her. Did you know?”

“Simon, I didn’t even know it was a date until the end,” I reply, shaking my head.

He punches me in the arm. “You’re kidding, right?”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “How was I supposed to know?”

“My god, Baz. It was dinner. On a Friday night. What class do you even have with her? AP Bio.? How on earth are you managing an AP class when you can’t even understand that was a date?”

Now that it’s all spelled out, I suppose it makes sense. “I wish I hadn’t done it. And if Samantha really is a homophobe, then I really wish I hadn’t done it.”

Simon shrugs. “It’s alright. It’s like the time I almost kissed Victor during gym when he was just trying to reach past me to get the badminton racquets.”

I laugh as though the story is an old memory I haven’t thought about in ages, when really, that can’t be farther than the truth. Simon’s story about Victor had been his way of coming out, and it had been the day that I’d realized there was a real chance for us.

“Embarrassing love stories aside, we should probably head to class. You need all the extra education you can get, clearly,” he cuts off, swiftly changing direction and making a left towards the science hallway, where he has chemistry and I have physics.

We’re about halfway to where we usually part ways when I see her out of the corner of my eye. Samantha. She hasn’t seen me, though; she’s talking (rather loudly) to her friends about some encounter with a kid in her PE class. But then she says, “He’s such a f*g, you know? Like my god, I get that you’re gay but you don’t have to be so obnoxious about it.”

I don’t catch the name of who she’s talking about. It doesn’t matter—I’m seeing red, my hands are clenched in fists, and I’ve spun around on the spot to face her direction.

“Baz—” Simon says.

I’m so angry I barely register that he’s grabbed my hand.

Samantha’s seen me now; her eyes catch mine and widen in recognition. I’m only two steps away from her when Simon tugs me the other way. “Baz. Take a deep breath, getting into a fight won’t solve anything.”

“Can you believe her?” I snap back in reply. “Who the fuck does she think she is?”

I’m coming up with more terrible things to say to Samantha when Simon’s grip tightens on my wrist, moving further up my arm.

“What are you—”

“This will really piss her off, and I’m not even going to say anything,” Simon replies with a smile.

His eyes are so close and so bright.

It’s the last clear thought I have before he presses me against the lockers and kisses me.

I wish I could say I kiss him back.

I don’t. I freeze. Hands pinned to my sides, eyes squeezed shut, balance wavering, wondering if this is all a dream.

But then I dare to open one eye, just a crack, and there is Simon, clear as day.

He pulls away, but one of his hands remains on my arm. “Baz, I—”

His words are cut off by the bell.

“See you at lunch,” is all I manage to stammer out, before stumbling half-dazed into Calculus.

I do not see him at lunch; apparently, Simon has a club meeting. I don’t know if I am more relieved or upset when Penny reminds me that there’s band practice today and he won’t be joining us.

I don’t recall what I say to her in reply. My mind is far-off, on a constant replay of that moment, over and over and over as I wonder how I managed to fuck up so badly.

I’d literally frozen. Up against the lockers, not even moving, hadn’t even kissed him back . . .

It’s still replaying through my head when I get home, skipping the stairs on my way up to my room.

Simon Snow kissed me.

It doesn’t seem real.

But it is real, because Samantha’s un-added me on Snapchat, and there’s a text from Simon saying that he’s sorry, and everything is catching up with me and I’m not thinking.

I’m only typing as fast as my hands will let me.

hey simon. so there were a lot of opportunities for me to tell you this today, honestly i couldn’t find the words and i didn’t even know if i should tell you. but i feel awful and i think you should know the truth. so here goes. i didn’t want to break things off with samantha because i’m not over my ex. it was because i realized i might have feelings for you. i don’t expect you to feel the same way at all, but i’m so tired of keeping this secret. so yeah, now it’s out there, i guess. —baz.

I stare it it. Everything I’ve wanted to say for years, all condensed in the tiny message box, and the only thing stopping me is that damned blue button.

One . . . Two. . . Three.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I press send.

Then, I promptly throw my phone across the room. There’s a resounding crack as it hits the wooden headboard of my bed. I’ve probably fractured the screen, but I don’t really mind.

I start to walk downstairs, but after two steps I whirl back around, sprinting to my room and grabbing the phone.

No answer.

I start a movie. Some Michael Bay trash I can focus on without really thinking.

An hour passes.

No answer.

I finish the movie and debate whether or not to start another one, before deciding to play Solitaire.

Another hour passes.

No answer.

I actually do my Calculus homework for once, spending two hours trying to figure out what the fuck a derivative is.

Two hours pass before I check my phone again.

There’s a text from Simon.

I almost throw my phone down the stairs, but I restrain myself, turning off my speakers so Twenty-One Pilots isn’t blasting louder than my thoughts anymore and I can focus.

i really don’t know how i should reply to this. this is honestly a surprise to me but i’m glad to know the truth, even if it complicates things. i’m not quite sure how i feel, but this feels like a conversation we should have in person. talk to you soon?

I read it no less than twelve times before beginning to type my reply. ok, see you.

Then I pace back and forth across my room until I’m dizzy, wondering if I’m supposed to call him or he’s supposed to call me or if I should invite him over, or if it’s too late to, or if I should ask him when exactly we’re going to talk, considering tomorrow I’m leaving for a family reunion in Cairo and I won’t have my phone for ten days . . .

But I don’t say anything else.

I do not sleep that night. I stare at the ceiling and wonder at the possibilities. Wonder at the fact that Simon kissed me and even though I didn’t kiss him back he didn’t completely shut me down, that there’s something hopeful about that text, about the future.

About our future.

Maybe.

That maybe lingers for the rest of the night, and for that morning as I pack for Cairo.

It lingers as I leave for the airport, staring out the car window and trying not to look too much at my reflection, eyes brighter than they’ve been in a while.

It lingers as I get on a direct flight to Cairo, and though it’s reckless of me, I send Simon a text that says, i’ll miss you.

My phone loses service a few minutes before cruising altitude.

I think it’s oddly appropriate that my Simon playlist comes on my shuffle.

[jason-todd-deserved-better]

High School Crush - Damian Wayne x Reader Headcanon

A/N: Hey guys sorry I haven’t posted in a good minute, I’ve just been hella busy these past few weeks. First, it was Spring Break.(I was out of state on vacation and I didn’t have much time to write sadly.) Then I had my family over the past few days. Either way, I’m back for now and I’m still open for requests and I hope you guys enjoy Damian’s part. Let me know what you think, I love you guys!

Summary: After getting your seats switched, you and Damian start developing feelings for each other that neither of you guys know how to deal with.

~Okay, you were 110% a wallflower.

~Like if someone wanted to find a textbook definition, there’d be a picture of you right next to it. with your earplugs in and your face forever looking off indifferently.

~Yeah that was you throughout all of freshmen, sophomore, and even junior year,

~Currently you were a senior, just making it halfway through the year and in all honesty, you were seriously ready for everything to be over.

~You were thinking of this when you were taking out your calculus textbook for the first class of the day.

~That class was what you liked to call, Satan’s Confidant and right-hand man.

~Mostly because the teacher sucked major ass, plus he couldn’t teach for jack shit, which is why you cursed his entire existence at night. (You hated spending your time YouTubing math channels, just so you could pass that class, and still not get anything higher than a B.)

~It automatically put a cloud over your head as you walked into the class, pulled out the right plug and shoved it into the inside of your hoodie as you sat down. (He was annoyingly anal about earplugs.)

~Your seat was in the back, right next to the window, and you often just dazed out toward the courtyard.

~Funnily enough, our favorite angry Wayne also was in said class straight from hell.

~He hated the class, heck he hated everyone in it, and everyone who went to the school in general. (It’s not surprising, it’s Damian for crying out loud.)

~He had an opinion about literally everyone.

~Including you, and it wasn't nice but also not the worst. ~Basically he thought that you were pretty lazy with you never paying attention and (Badly, in his opinion) hiding your earplugs.

~He obviously didn’t know that you and him were the only two that had a grade above a low C.

~So other than that first impression, he didn’t really pay you any mind. (No one really did honestly.) ~Until the very day that Satan’s Best Friend™ decided to make everyone's life just a little more difficult than it already was.

~That’s when he decided to move almost everyone’s seat, and make them do group work so they could, “Get to know each other better.”

~Damian was not pleased, and neither were you but not to the extent of his displeasure.

~Either way, it wasn’t till you guys had to start working on the thing did he start to realize that something was weird.

~Especially when you finished your part in under 5 minutes and even corrected a small mistake on his part of the worksheet.

~Seriously, what?!

~He was confused but didn’t let it show.

~You just went back to your own little world, kind of sad that you were farther away from the window.

~Damian just discreetly stared at you the rest of the time, now trying to really figure you out.

~This didn’t stop in the class, it kept going for a long while.

~He would just shadow you throughout the day, you only noticed a couple days later.

~You were at your normal spot under the large tree in the courtyard, eating the sandwich that you made that morning.

~In the corner of your eye you could see the young Wayne staring at you.

~Yeah, it was weird but you shrugged it off, thinking that he’d eventually get bored and leave you alone.

~You were very wrong and the next day you decided to see what was up with him.

~It was lunch, and yet again you could see his looming figure in the corner of your eye.

~”You know, if you just wanted to talk to me you could just do so, instead of stalking me throughout the whole school.” You spoke out to him.

~”Who said I wanted to talk to you?” Was his sarcastic reply.

~”Well, you’re talking now so clearly you.”

~Silence.

~”Plus your still here, so you clearly want something.” ~Silence yet again.

~”If you could do me a favor, get out from behind me. Seriously, it’s annoying to yell over there.”

~To both your and even Damian’s surprise he actually came forward and sat next to you.

~Cue a good long awkward silence.

~That is until you break it

~”So… Any bands you like to listen to?” You wanted to slap yourself in the face because that was a seriously stupid question. ~Damian, on the other hand, was kind of confused, he didn’t really listen to any music, he just never had the time or the interest in it.

~”No.” Was his simple answer.

~”How about independent artists?” This peaked your interest, finding it a little odd.

~Again another pause.

~”No.” It was just the plain truth.

~”Wait, so you’re saying you don’t listen to music?”

~”I don’t listen to music often.”

~Oh my god, this rich kid has so much to learn was the first thing to pop into your head.

~That was the beginning of your guy’s friendship, with you and him sharing the headphones and listening to the songs of your favorite artists. (With the many snide comments coming from him.)

~So everyday during lunch you would introduce him the genres that you felt would represent him best. ~Turns out he got interested in a few bands/solos that you showed him.

~The Neighborhood was one that he really started to like, much to your enjoyment and sometimes to your worry.

~One day R.I.P 2 My Youth came on and he was quiet throughout the whole thing.

~That wasn’t normal, he always had something sarcastic to say about the songs you’d put on the past couple months.

~”Hey, are you okay?” You thinking that you should have skipped the song when you had the chance.

~”What would you do if I died?” Was his sudden answer.

~Okay, WHAT?!

~You obviously didn’t know about his late night “activities” and how he was in constant danger, in and out of costume.

~”What do you mean, Damian?” Your eyes scrunch up, seriously worried for him.

~”Exactly what I asked, what would you do if I died.” He was intensely staring into your eyes, determined to get an answer out of you.

~Now you seriously wished you skipped the song.

~”I-I don’t know what I’d do…” You turn your head away from him, unable to look into his eyes. “You’re honestly my best friend Damian, I seriously don’t know.” (Damian didn’t know why the word “friend” stung a little bit.)

~His only reply was silence.

~You slowly got the feeling that he was hiding something, you had a few ideas about what it was, (Depression was the main one.) but you never got right on the reason why he asked.

~”You know you could talk to me about anything, right?” You say leaning your back against the tree, eyes now looking through the leafs and up towards the sky.

~Again he says nothing, and you swear that your heart felt like it was breaking.

~”Damian?” You look back over to him only to see him a whole lot closer then he was a second before.

~He glanced down to your lips, not knowing why or even why he was moving closer in the first place.

~Your eyes widened, your mind practically turned off for a good second and just from utter confusion.

~While your brain checked out of sanity, Damian checked himself back into thinking clearly.

~Then he proceeded to back up a good couple feet, then to just straight out stand up and walk away.

~You were too shocked for words and before you could even let out anything, he was gone.

~You didn’t see him the next day, or the day after that, and you were honestly ready to flip your shit from how worried you were.

~He just didn’t show up to school, and you were ultimately alone.

~In Calculus you felt it the most, there was just a dark cloud over your head.

~Like you had so very little options on what to do (You couldn’t just go to the Wayne Manor and knock on the door to ask if Damian was there, let alone if he was alright. Plus, he wasn’t answering is phone, which wasn’t surprising because he never really did in the first place.)

~So after a week of hearing absolutely nothing from or about him, you were just making it to the door of your house when you heard your parents screaming at each other in the living room.

~This was saying something because of course your headphones were in and they were blasting.

~At this point in your life you were used to this happening, when you were a kid they would argue often but by the time you hit the milestone of high school, it got progressively worse.

~That’s why you wore your headphones in the first place, you just needed a way to block them out, and then when the world started to get cruler to you, you blocked that out too.

~You walked into the house, preparing for yet another long night and jump out of your skin when you see and hear a vase slam against the wall in front of you.

~You let out a small yell, feeling your heart slam against your chest, but you got out of there and ran up the stairs as fast as you could.

~Of course they didn’t notice, their constant arguing too distracting to them to notice that they almost hit their daughter in the face with a glass vase, or that she even got home to begin with.

~Locking your bedroom door, you collapse on the floor in the far corner of your room, finally breaking down, the past events finally getting to you.

~Your parents weren’t ever violent to you, but now you were seriously scared for your safety, they always yelled but never had it gotten to the point of violence.

~That’s when you notice that there was a weight missing in your ears.

~Pulling out your phone, you see the cord hanging, wires exposed where the earpieces are supposed to be.

~Turns out you pulled them off with your door when you ran in.

~You didn’t know for how long you cried for but when you looked up, the night sky was out to greet you.

~Well it must have been for a while as it was daytime when you got there, but the fighting never stopped and you felt the vibrations on the wall behind you as things were being thrown left and right.

~Finally you had enough of the screeching, and walked over to the window, pushing it open.

~You climbed out to the fire escape, shutting the window.

~You only shut it to shut out the shouting, but it was only muffled so that’s what made you climb up the ladder leading to the roof.

~When you got there you were only able to hear the faint voices of your parents.

~Sighing, you sat on the edge the roof, seriously wanting the world to just stop.

~At this point you didn’t notice the waterworks were starting up again, too busy with the thoughts in your head.

~Hell, you didn’t even notice that you were being watched.

~Yup, the current Robin was behind you watching your shoulders shake as a sob leaves your throat.

~He’d gone on a week long mission, and had just gotten back to Gotham a couple hours before, plus he was still was still planning going out on patrol.

~He wasn’t expecting to find you on your roof, let alone crying, or even the screaming under the both of you.

~When you did finally notice, you turned your head to see a very pissed off Robin.

~Well fuck you gently with a chainsaw.

~”What happened.” His familiar voice stated, his eyes traveling to the side of your neck and if it was possible to show even more rage, he just did.

~You covered the spot with your hand, as if to keep his fiery glare off of it, only for you to find that spot wet.

~Confused, you pulled it off to see what it was, only to see blood coating your fingers.

~Huh… guess you weren’t as far away from the vase as you thought.

~”Well fuck…” You muttered out, looking at your hand, and again not noticing that he was now ultra close to you.

~You only noticed when he as gently as he could, pushed down your hand, put his hand under your chin and moved your head to the side to get a closer look at the damage, snapping you out of your trance.

~He moved his hand away after a moment, backing you away and grabbing your hand to then quickly take you down the ladder and to your bedroom window.

~He pushed it open, then goes inside and pulling you in, but you felt your heart go in your throat when he started talking.

~”(Y/N) tell me what happened.” He said after shutting the window and closing the blinds.

~Oh crap how did he know your name was going through your mind, the screaming now lower than it was beforehand, now just them loudly arguing.

~”How do you know my name?”

~He was pulling you towards the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat, and pulling out a first aid kit from the cabinet.

~”Because I do.” Was his smartass response, as he moved your head to the side as he put disinfectant on the cut and you wincing because of the sting.

~His gaze softens softly, his hands then pulling on the largest bandaid.

~He kept his hand on your neck, checking you for any other injuries, and you finally were able to get a good look at his face.

~You definitely knew him, but were trying to tell yourself that you were going crazy, but all the signs were pointing to it as your hand moved up to his mask.

~He saw it coming, and he let you put your hand on the mask, closing his eyes as you gently pulled it off.

~Holy.

~Fucking.

~Shit.

~You were right and weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

~”Damian?” You whispered out, his eyes opening to see your shocked face with tears yet again threatening to spill at the edges.

~He didn’t have the chance to respond as he was suddenly pulled into a hug by you.

~Damian just held you as you cried, he wasn’t able to tell you about the mission and the last conversation you guys had understandably stressed you out.

~He told you what happened and how it wasn’t your fault that he left, then it was your turn.

~At this point you had separated and were back in the bedroom, the house now quiet for once as your parents finally went to sleep.

~You looked down towards the ground as you told him your situation, and how it had been going on for years on end.

~When you got to the part of what happened that afternoon your eyes continued to water, and you honestly didn’t notice that you had gotten hurt.

~He sat next to you, his hand brushing under your chin, pushing it up only barely an inch apart from you.

~”I won’t let them hurt you again, mentally or physically.” He whispered against your lips before meeting them with his own. ~You were prepared this time as you kissed him back.

~Not very long after that, you were soon going to college with Damian, the both of you getting an apartment by the campus and the two of you stuck it through each other, blasting music one day at a time.

[darling-cas]

The Lonely: Chapter 1

Summary: High school sucks. Being a teenager is tough. But that’s expected, isn’t it? Teens only care about parties drinking, and sex, right? If only it was that easy. Welcome to High school, a living hell. Where everyone is actually lonely as fuck. No matter where they stand on the social ladder. Edied by: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie

Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

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She stood where the land met the water - where the living met the haunted. The sand was soft, wet, a comfort between her toes. The water was cold, brutal, an ugly awakening to not forget - never forget.

She welcomed the water. Welcomed the waves as they lapped against the shore, against her feet, against her legs. It was a reminder of how cruel the world truly was. It kept her aware of the pain, telling her it would never go away.

There was nothing she could do to make it go away.

She took in a breath, deep and long. She allowed the cold fresh air, the smell of salt water, to fill her up. To grip her heart, her soul. To chill her bones and bury itself in her skin.

Tilting her head back, her hair fell over her shoulders as her gaze got lost in the grey sky.

It was the only colour she saw those days. Her whole world had been tainted, painted in hues of grey and black and white. The colour and life of her world, gone. Sucked down the drain, spinning round and round and round until it had vanished.

But like everything else, she welcomed it. She opened her arms to the shadows, as if they were an old friend. She didn’t fight it, didn’t want to, for what was the point?

The water washing over her toes grew colder, harsher. Yet, her gaze stayed on the sky, looking but not seeing. She couldn’t move, or didn’t want to, it didn’t matter either way.

The water inched higher and higher, climbing at a tedious pace past her toes. But she stood there, simply breathing in the air around her once more, eyes closed.

She felt the water’s savage hand wrap its claws around her ankles. She lost herself in the feeling, the sensation. She did nothing to stop it, to halt its movements, and she relished in the relief that washed over her as the grip tightened. As it pulled her under the water. The cold completely took over and she was going down and down and down...

- Colourless.

--------------------

Aelin couldn’t suppress her yawn as she navigated through the hallway. It was her own fault really. There was no one to blame but herself. She was the one up until the early hours of the morning working on a new blog post. When she finally did get to sleep, she had to force her ass out of bed not four hours later to get up for school.

Somehow, she did it. She’d managed to get up, do her hair and make-up, and put together a coordinated outfit. She managed to race downstairs, and bid Uncle Gavriel goodbye, before jumping into Aedion’s truck and heading off to school. She did it. Somehow.

Another yawn escaped and Aelin was already counting down the minutes until she could go home and nap. Never mind the fact that she had a full day of classes ahead of her.

It was going to be a long ass day.

She continued to walk through the crowds of students - Aedion had long ago left her to go meet up with the boys - before finally coming to a stop against the lockers, just as she let out another yawn.

“Why good morning, sunshine.” Lysandra’s smile was blinding, eyes travelling from the brown boots on Aelin’s feet up to her tired face. “You look like crap. But at least your outfit is cute.”

“One, fuck off,” Aelin retorted, leaning against the cool metal of the lockers with crossed arms. “Two, my outfits are always cute.”

A chuckle and a mumbled “whatever” was Lysandra’s only response as she took the last of her books out of her locker. She glanced in the mirror taped to the inside, fixing her hair over her shoulder before slamming the locker shut.

“So, there’s a party this weekend.” Lysandra spun towards Aelin, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as she smiled.

“And?” Aelin raised an eyebrow. “There’s a party basically every weekend.”

Lysandra’s own gaze narrowed, clearly annoyed with Aelin’s lack of enthusiasm. But she couldn't help it. She was so damn tired. Plus, her last blog post took a lot out of her mentally. It was good, her best yet, but it had drained her.

Before Lysandra could so much as open her mouth, however, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped themselves around Aelin’s waist, squeezing her tight.

“Sam!” Aelin exclaimed, squirming in his arms to try and get away, though her voice did lack the bite and annoyance she was going for. “Fuck off and let me go!”

A deep chuckle sounded behind her as Sam’s arms unwrapped themselves from her waist.

“Hello to you too.” Sam stepped around Aelin, hands shoved into his jean pockets, deep brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it ladies?”

Aelin’s glare was deadly. Sam threw his hands up in surrender as Lysandra chuckled.

“Careful Sam. She’s in a biting mood this morning.”

“I think I can take her.” Sam’s gaze flicked from Lysandra back to Aelin, a smirk on his lips.

“I hate you both,” Aelin mumbled, a yawn escaping her once more.

“What were you doing last night?” Sam asked, amusement fading slightly as concern took over. “Did you stay up all night working on that English paper?”

Aelin nodded slowly, guilt gripping her bones for the little white lie. But just as fast as it was there, it was gone again.

Her blog was her safe haven, her comfort. There was a reason she kept it a secret. She didn’t want them to know - didn’t want them to see the words she longed to say but couldn’t.

“You push yourself too hard sometimes,” Sam spoke softly, concern now completely coating his features.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

Turquoise-gold eyes clashed with deep brown ones. Aelin held Sam’s gaze, not daring to break first. He was always looking out for her, always there when she needed him, and she was grateful. But she didn’t need a babysitter.

“So,” Lysandra cleared her throat, drawing Aelin’s attention away from Sam. Though she could still feel his gaze on her. “Party this weekend. We going?”

Sam huffed, finally looking away from Aelin to raise an eyebrow at Lysandra. “Is that even a question?”

“Where is this party?” Aelin asked, hoisting her bag farther up her shoulder

“Fenrys and Connall’s,” Lysandra explained as the warning bell for class rang. “Their parents are out of town for the weekend.”

“It’s gonna be wild, then,” Aelin said with a wicked smile. “I’m down.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

“Great!” Lysandra smiled, clapping her hands together. “I was already talking to Nehemia about it and she said she’ll come too and be the DD.”

“Of course you did.” Sam let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head slightly before stepping back. “I have to head to Bio now. We’ll talk about this more at lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Lysandra nodded, clearly satisfied that they gave her the okay for the party. Not that it should have been a surprise, they always went to parties.

Sam’s eyes turned back to Aelin, burning into her soul. She felt naked before him when he looked at her like that. The intensity of his gaze awakened something in her, in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the bond between them, the bond of their friendship, start to blur. Just like it always did when his stare was so fierce. Like there was nothing else that mattered in the world but her.

It exhilarated and horrified her to no end.

“See you later?” It came out as a question. But what a silly question for him to ask. They had been side by side since they were five. Of course he would see her later.

Even still, Aelin nodded her head and spoke in a cool voice, “See you later.”

Something flashed behind Sam’s eyes, something so quick and barely there that Aelin couldn’t read it. He simply looked between both girls once more before heading off down the hall, a sea of people swallowing him whole.

Aelin and Lysandra started making their way towards class not moments later. The whole time, Lysandra was rambling on about the party or some drama happening within the school lately. But Aelin couldn’t bring herself to truly listen to any of it. She was too tired and cursing herself for not getting more than about five hours of sleep the past few nights.

“A.” Lysandra’s hand on Aelin’s arm pulled her from her thoughts. Aelin hadn’t even realized that they had reached class and were settling into their seats.

She cut her gaze to Lysandra, who was watching her with narrowed brows.

“I’m going to ask you if you’re okay and please don’t throw a pencil at my eye,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Aelin pulled her books out of her bag with an eye roll before looking back at Lysandra. “You and Sam worry too much sometimes.”

“Yeah, because we love you,” Lysandra pointed out plainly.

“Of course you do.” Aelin’s smile turned deadly as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Everyone loves me.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And yet, you love me.”

“I take it back, I actually hate you.”

Aelin allowed her own laugh to leave her lips. She blew a kiss in Lysandra’s direction, causing the brunette to give her the finger just as their calculus teacher walked into the room.

Everyone quickly died down as class started up. But not even a few minutes into the boring lecture, the hairs on the back of Aelin’s neck stood up. She could feel a set of eyes on her, burning through her.

She looked over her shoulder, glancing at the hooded figure in the back corner.

Glancing back at Rowan Whitethorn.

She didn’t know what she had ever done to Rowan to make him hate her so much. He had moved to Rifthold a few years back and before she had even spoken to him, he had already come to the conclusion that she was a waste of his time. Not that she minded. He was a thorn in her side just as much as she was to him.

In class, he was doing what he always did. He was staring at her with an icy look of complete hatred. His black hood was up, hiding his short white hair and casting his face in shadow. But Aelin could still see his eyes. They were green, intense, and caused a fire to course through her veins. Caused anger to pool in the pit of her stomach.

He irritated her beyond belief.

Just to push his buttons even more than she, apparently, already was, Aelin sent a sickly sweet smile his way. She cocked an eyebrow, allowing her gaze to linger on him a moment longer before flipping her hair over her shoulder and turning back to the front of the class. Not before seeing his knuckle-white fist snap his pencil in half.

Satisfaction flooded through her as she smiled to herself. Lysandra gave her a look of confusion, but she ignored it.

Infuriating Rowan Whitethorn didn’t help the tiredness to seep out of her bones, but damn, it did make her feel a bit better.

--------------------

“Rowan, can you stay behind for a moment, please?”

Rowan paused, a beat passing by as students piled out of the classroom around him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he counted to three.

He turned around just as the last few students were leaving. He saw Aelin Galathynius out of the corner of his eye, her gaze on him, a look mixed with hatred and the slightest bit of curiosity. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her, so he kept his gaze forward, marching towards Mr. Allsbrook’s desk.

He stood there for a moment, neither of them speaking until the classroom door closed and there were no more students in the room. Only then did Rowan pull his hood back.

“Yes?” He asked politely, cool and to the point.

Mr. Allsbrook gazed up at him, hands folded neatly on the desk in front of him. There was a moment were neither moved or spoke. Then Mr. Allsbrook reached into his desk drawer, pulling out some papers.

Without a word, he handed it to Rowan, who took it with narrowed brows. It was only when he looked down, saw his name and a big red F, that he realized it was his paper on Julius Caesar

“You’re answering the questions and have interesting arguments,” Mr. Allsbrook explained, as Rowan just kept his gaze on the F glaring back at him, “but you’re not putting any thought into the work. You do the bare minimum, just enough to get by. I let you get away with it last year by giving you D’s, hoping you would put in the work, but I’m not doing it this year.”

Rowan gripped the paper so tight he was sure he was going to rip it in two, but he still said nothing.

“I know you’re better than that, Rowan,” Mr. Allsbrook continued, nodding towards the paper. “I saw your transcript from Doranelle, you got the brains, but you don’t put in the effort. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Yes. Yes he did. He understood very well what Mr. Allsbrook was telling him. Part of him couldn’t get past the fact he actually got an F, while the other part just didn’t care.

Mr. Allsbrook sighed once it was clear that Rowan wasn’t going to say anything before pulling a pad of paper towards him, scribbling away.

“I want you to meet with one of the tutors here at school a few times a week.”

“What?” Rowan’s head finally snapped up. “I don’t need a tutor.”

“Clearly you do,” Mr. Allsbrook said, hard and cold as he meets Rowan’s gaze. “Rowan. If you do not pass this class, you can’t graduate. And I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

“No, sir,” Rowan bit out.

Being stuck in that hellhole for another year was the last thing he wanted.

Mr. Allsbrook nodded. He finished writing on the pad of paper before ripping off the slip and handing it to Rowan.

“Stop by the tutor room before the end of the week to get situated. And I will be checking in to make sure you do,” Mr. Allsbrook said, eyes intense and unyielding.

Rowan gave a curt nod, snatching the paper, and turning on his heel to head out of the room without another word.

He stuffed the slip into his pocket without glancing at it, marching through the empty halls and out into the quad. Students filled the space, lounging on the grass or sitting at tables, enjoying lunch outside before it got too cold.

Rowan didn’t even bother to stop by the cafeteria and grab something to eat as he made his way towards the table farthest away from everyone.

He threw his bag on the table and sat down, resting his head in his hands and gripping his hair to the point where it was painful.

He hated that place, hated school and everything that came with it. More so in the past few years, since the move. Since...

He hadn’t always been like that. He had enjoyed school at one point. He had been good at it, had friends, did sports and participated in activities. But that was before every last ounce of joy had been sucked out of his life. That was before he gave up caring.

Since moving from Doranelle to Rifthold, he did the bare minimum to get by. But it seemed like even that had backfired in his face.

D’s last year he had been fine with - it was still a pass. But another F… that was the second one in English so far. If he kept it up, there would be no bouncing back, and he’d be stuck in hell for another long year.

Loud laughter booming throughout the quad caused him to glance up. Rowan couldn’t stop the annoyance that washed over him as he saw Aelin Galathynius sitting at a table not far from his own. She was surrounded by all her friends - Lysandra, Sam, Nehemia. But Rowan only kept his gaze on her. Because he simply couldn’t look away. The hatred was too strong.

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

From his first day at Rifthold High, he had wanted nothing to do with Aelin. They had never even had an actual conversation before. Not one that didn’t evolve sarcastic remarks and heated debates anyways.

Everything about her bugged him. The way she prowled down the hallways. The smirk always plastered on her face. The hair flip she did to get what she wants. The cocked eyebrow she gave him when their gazes locked.

She was nothing more than an annoying, spoiled brat. And Rowan couldn’t fucking stand her.

“You’re staring.”

“Jesus Christ!” Rowan nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked over his shoulder.

Standing behind him was Fenrys. Muscular arms crossed over his chest, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and a smirk gracing his lips as he looked down at Rowan.

In return, Rowan raised his eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

If possible, Fenrys’ smile seemed to grow wider. “Just wanted to make you aware you were starting to drool while you were gazing upon Ms Galathynius.”

“Piss off.” Rowan snapped, bad mood getting the better of him.

He and Fenrys talked every now and then. Normally it was just a passing comment in the halls or in the Physics class they shared. Nothing that deemed them friends in Rowan’s eyes. Mainly because Rowan didn’t have friends.

Fenrys on the other hand, seemed to have a different idea.

“Someone's in a mood today,” he chuckled, sitting down next to Rowan, who didn't reply. Instead, Rowan opted for ignoring him, hoping he’d go away. To get his point across, he reached into his bag and pulled out his Physics book, pretending to do some work.

Fenrys wasn’t buying it.

“So this is what you do during lunch? More school work.” Fenrys clicked his tongue, shaking your head. “You should join me and the boys instead. Throwing a football back and forth during lunch is more fun than learning about objects in motion.”

“Not my type of scene anymore,” Rowan mumbled, tone cool and distinct as he kept his gaze on his book.

“Anymore?”

Fuck.

Rowan froze, realizing his slip of the tongue. He didn’t want to tell Fenrys he used to play on his high school team. He didn’t want anyone to know anything about his past. He didn’t want to open up, to become friends, with anyone.

“You use to play?”

Rowan took a deep breath in through his nose, yet he still kept his gaze down. “Yes.”

He didn’t need to look up to know there was a shit-eating grin on Fenrys’ face.

“Dude, you should have totally tried out of the team early this year!” He exclaimed. “Better yet, you should hang with me and the guys someday. We usually get together on weekends and have a game of either tackle or flag football.”

Rowan huffed. “I’ll pass.”

He could feel Fenrys’ gaze on him, could feel the protest starting to build. Hell, he could physical see it in his eyes when Rowan did finally meet his gaze. But just seconds later, before Fenrys could speak, his name was being called from across the quad.

“Fenrys man, come on!”

Rowan didn’t bother to look and see who it was. Clearly, it was one of “the boys” - he didn’t care enough to identify which one it was. He simply turned back to his book without a word.

Fenrys at least realized he was clearly dismissed. After a moment, he stood up and jogged towards his group of friends without a word.

When he was finally gone, Rowan ran a hand through his hair.

He could not do this for another year. The friendly smiles, the chit-chat, the work, the people, everything, it was all fake. So fake. And if he had to do it for another year, he would lose his damn mind more than he already had.

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Rowan looked towards Fenrys. He was standing, smiling, laughing, all with some of his teammates from the football team.

Rowan couldn’t help but wondered if Fenrys was telling them about his new discovery. He probably was. And before any of them could turn his way, Rowan looked back down at the table in front of him.

He just wanted to make it through school so he could fucking leave. He didn’t want to make friends, to be part of a crowd or a team. He just wanted to leave.

You can’t leave if you fail English.

Rowan cursed the voice in his head, even if it was right.

If he continued the way he was going, if he didn’t listen to and obey Mr. Allsbrook, he was going to be stuck here for another year. There would be no way he could leave.

If dealing with a tutor a few nights was his only ticket out of here, he’d have to stick it up and take it.

With a sigh, Rowan reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled up slip. He smoothed it out, looking down at the name of his tutor.

He didn’t know if he wanted to curse to the Gods or start digging his grave now at the name that stared back at him. The looping black ink stark against the white paper. The letters piercing through him as he read the name over and over again. 

The name of the one person who held his fate in their hands.

Aelin Galathynius.