cute celeb imagines

bad boy ✱ marcus rashford

in which the reader gets an unexpected invitation from the bad boy.
—

"can you please be quiet? i can't focus," you said to the boy sitting directly behind you as you tried to hear what the teacher was saying.

you hear him snort as jesse and his other outcast friends chuckle alongside him.

"of course you can't focus. everything's about you anyways," he mutters.

you inhale sharply, slightly shake your head, and fidget with your pencil as you try to gather your thoughts and ignore him.

"nothing to say now, huh? not surprised."

"what's your deal, marcus? just be quiet so those who are actually making an effort can do it successfully." you fully turn your body to face him and stare at him until he raises an eyebrow.

"like what you see?" he smirks.

your roll your eyes. "you wish. please let me work." you turn back to your paper.

thankfully, marcus holds his tongue until the bell rings. you pack up your stuff to go to your next class and glare at him as you walk out the class.

he winks at you and you grimace.

"i'll miss you next period," he chimes as he follows you down the hall.

"i won't," you retort. "besides, maybe you'll find a girl to annoy who'll actually give a fuck."

"that's a bad word. never thought i'd hear you say it."

"you should focus on the main point which is if you're trying to aggravate me, you're doing a good job. but i'm not the person you're looking to aggravate."

"what does that mean?"

"oh don't you have another biker chick with a hip tattoo you can annoy and flirt with? it doesn't have to be me. you're not gonna get anything good out of this."

"that's where you're wrong." he slips into the classroom on his left and your feet keep moving as you internally cringe.

—

"hey."

"nuh-uh, you are not going to talk to me right now, marcus."

"why not?"

"i'm studying."

"so am i. i'm studying you."

you chuckle, "that completely fell flat."

"hmm, but you're blushing, so that tells me otherwise."

you go back to your paper, continuing to look over your notes. his presence remains persistent.

"come on, y/n."

"i don't understand why you're still here."

"let me take you out," he says.

you stop the page mid turn. what did he say?

"sorry?"

"yeah, like, to dinner or something. or whatever, we can do something else."

you finally turn to look at him. he's almost giving you puppy eyes.

"i-i mean, i guess. yeah. that'd be cool."

"okay, cool," he said, as if his mean bad boy attitude hadn't just completely vanished.

"pick you up at seven?"

you nod.

he breathes out a small "okay," then gives you finger guns before he starts walking away. you smile to yourself as a newfound relief floods you, along with the realization that the bad boy may not be so bad after all.