#and then after i beat that teacher i said all right lets put this down for a bit. maybe leave my room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petew21-blog · 6 months ago

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Love thy neighbor

Jerry:"Oh look he posted again. And look at the quote '

Instagram - Clark_779:'Luke 6:31: Do to others as you would have them do to you. We all have to remember to be kind to each other'

Harvey:"I can't stand him anymore. Such a fucking hypocrite. Pretending to be a good christian and at the same time making our lives at school a living hell."

Jerry:"Yeah, you're right. But he won't change. He'll be the same asshole as he is now"

Harvey:"Maybe not"

Jerry:"Yeah right. You're gonna give him a lesson on ethics and he's gonna be kind. How about Red Riding Hood. That's a good story too. Maybe you should tell me that one"

Harvey:"If you'd let me talk I would explain it to you. I have been visiting this bookstore that seels antique stuff"

Jerry:"Aaaaand you found a love option that's gonna make him fall in love with you. Great"

Harvey:"You know I'm not gay and no. Something better. I got these two rings to swap our bodies"

Jerry:"Sure. And you know they work?"

Harvey:"We could try it out right now"

Jerry:"What if we don't change back?"

Harvey:"The man said that it should be fully reversible as long as both of them are wearing the ring"

Jerry:"Ok, fine. It's not like I believe your. But why not"

The took the rings and put them on their fingers. But nothing happened

Jerry:"Look, man. I know you wanted to believe it, but you gotta learn that there are scammers in the world and they...."

"...just want to rob you." Jerry finished the sentence but now from Harvey's body

Jerry:"What?!?"

Harvey:"Told you:

Jerry:"Dude, thus changes everything. We could ne the most popular people in the entire school. No, we can be anybody"

Harvey:"Calm down. We got a lot of time ahead of us. But for now I think we should stick with low profile dudes like Clark"

Jerry:"Ok, let's see if we can swap back"

The exchanged the rings again and after a moment were looking back at the other person. Harvey noticed that his dick was now hard in his briefs, but decided not to comment on in so that he wouldn't leave embarassed and his plan would go to shit

Jerry:"Ok. So how do you wanna do it?"

Harvey:"I got a plan"

Jerry:"I don't want to get beat up"

Harvey:"Someone has to sacrifice. Now go and provoke him. I'll intervene as soon as he would start beating you"

Clark was talking with his bros near the lockers. Jerry didn't have to say a thing and Clark noticed his presence:"Hey, fag. Got my lunch money?"

Jerry sped up and went on as if he didn't say anything. Clark ran out to get him as his bros stood behind. He shoved Jerry against a locker, making him collapse on the ground. That was a big hit. Jerry felt his back aching

Clark:"I was talking to you, nerd. Give ne your money"

Jerry:"I don't have any money today"

Harvey came closer and offered him the ring. "You can sell this for a better price than just lunch". Clark grabbed Harvey's sweatshirt and lifted him up against the locker. "Who said you can talk to me?"

Harvey stayed calm:"Please, just take it and let us be". Clark took the ring and looked at it. It seemed manly. Not like one for woman. He liked it. "Fine. Only this time" he let go of Harvey.

Harvey was next to Jerry now. Jerry was aching. While Harvey looked surprisingly confident. Jerry:"So? What now? What if he sells it or throws it away." Harvey:"Now we wait"

They were sitting at the front of the class along with the rest of the seniors. Clark was with his bros at the back. Harvey was trying to observe him, but everytime he did some of his bros noticed.

Jerry:"He's playing with the ring" And he was. History class probably borec him so much that he had to take a look at it.

Harvey turned around and noticed as another jock took it from him. "Oh no" he noticed as he was about to slip it on his finger and immediately took off his. Jock looked how the ring fit. He said to Clark:"Can I keep it?". "NO, it's mine. Echoed silently through the class"

The teacher didn't care that they were shouting. He was in support of our school jock and was in their favour so he let a lot of things pass

Clark took the ring back from the other guy and put it on his finger. Jerry said:"Now Harvey!" Harvey slipped on the ring as well and waited

Few seconds later. Jerry looked at Harvey's face that changed expression. He even spoke out loud:"What're you looking at, fag?" Jerry was shocked. This was real. He looked back to see Clark smiling back at him. "Holy shit" Jerry said out loud

The teacher scolded him Jerry. Mister Barren. There will be no such talk in my class. Go visit the prinicipal right now and take your things. Jerry had a hard time trying not to smile

Clark was so dull that he still didn't notice yet. Jerry went to the principal where he got his detention. Message arrived to his phone from unkwon number:"Clark is really passed. He screamed out at the class. He made me look like a crazy person. Come to my NEW car"

Jerry was nervous. He was always scared to even get close to Clark's car and now he was about to go in. He opened the door and sat down. There He was. Clark, but not really Clark

"Sup, fag" Harvey said. They both laughed

Jerry:"Holy shit dude, this is crazy. I can't believe it"

Harvey:"No, this is crazy. Check these out" he said as he flexed Clark's arm right into Jerry's face

Jerry:"Holy shit. Dude? Can I...?

Harvey:"Sure thing. Go ahead"

Jerry squeezed Clark's biceps and let his fingers go along the lines of his muscles. "This is incredible"

Harvey:"So what now. Wanna get your new body?"

Jerry:"I think we should wait until the drama about your body is done. Your body looks crazy right now and if there were the two of us, It might be more suspicious. I say we go to your new place. We should check it out"

Harvey:"Right on, mister. Hold your glasses"

Harvey wasn't a really good driver and it showed. The ride was... a bit dangerous

They entered the house. It was completely empty

Now the boys inspected the modern kitchen with a fridge full of great food.

Jerry:"Dude, this is amazing. It must be crazy good to be this rich"

Harvey:"You know what's also amazing? Check it" he lifted up his shirt and swestshirt, pulling his jeans down a bit

Jerry:"Wow. Dude. Those are really hot. Can I touch them?"

Harvey:"Why are you even asking at this point? Haha"

Jerry went closer to give it a feel. He was so close to his tormentor/friends face now. He expected a hit from his body or that his body would betray him and he would start kissing him instead. "Ehm... wanna maybe go upstairs to see his room?"

Harvey:"Sure. I mean, we'll be spending a lot of time there. Playing video games and so on. So we should atleast check it out"

After an hour of playing Harvey let go of the controler. Jerry:"Anything wrong Harvey?"

Harvey:"I'm Clark now. And I'm sice of not appreciating this body" he started undressing

Jerry couldn't look away. He was so hard right now. " Harv... Clark? Maybe you should wait before I leave?"

Harvey:"Don't pretend like you don't wanna see these guns and the rest. I know you do"

Jerry:"Oh... you do?"

Harvey:"Sure. I know you're gay. I could even feel my dick hard when we swapped before. Can't really hide that"

"Now look at this beautiful big dick" Harvey said as he held it over his boxer briefs. "No wonder he keep fucking everyone at the entire school. If I had this body and dick I would too. Oh wait... now I do. Haha"

"Let's take a proper look at it. Oh wow. It's so thick. Wanna check it out?" Harvey said with a seductive look at Jerry

Harvey didn't wait and got over Jerry. Sliding down his boxer briefs.

"Come on. Touch it. I know you want to"

Jerry hesitated, but Harvey put his dick into his face. Jerry took the dick into his hand. It really was big. "Oh wow, Harvey"

Harvey:"I told you, I'm Clark now. And you should suck it" he said and pushed his dick towards Jerry's mouth

He smiled:"I knew you'd like it you little, fag"

Jerry couldn't help it, but this talk. Pretending to be Clark and sucking him off was so amazing. He wanted this moment to last forever. Or atleast to be repeated several times

Jerry swallowed all of the cum. Harvey was now in the bathroom cleaning himself off and taking photos

Jerry at Harvey in the bathroom:"I think we should talk about it, Harv... Clark."

Harvey:"Talk about what? That you just sucked my dick?"

Jerry:"Yeah. You said you are straight and now you let me do this. Did you do it just to cheer me up or because of the attention"

Harvey was still around the corner in the bathroom:"Kinda both. But do you really think that I would be straight in a body like this. Especially when his body looks so good in this?"

He entered in a maid's dress. Showing off and flexing his muscles right at Jerry

Harvey:"I couldn't let this body be straight. I would just limit my options.

Jerry pushed down his hard on

Harvey;"And if you'd want we can pick you a nice girl's bldy and be a cute couple fucking around at home and at school. But I think you'd rather let me fuck another hot stud and get revenge on these hypocrites. Am i right?"

Jerry nodded in approval

Harvey:"Good. Then let's pick you a hot body. I can't wait to fuck you"

Anonymous request in inbox

Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

#Striaght to gay #jock to nerd #nerd to jock #Body swap #Body swap ring #male body swap #male body switch #body switch #Revenge body swap #friends body swap

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syrma-sensei · 7 months ago

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hey! do you take soldier boy requests? if you do, then i have a little prompt! i can totally see this dynamic with ben x reader. ignore this if you like, i'm just curious because i love your writing !!

Heya 👋🏻

Of course I do! I love writing my man 🤭❤️

Hehehe, I can totally see it too. I almost wrote it in Home, but you know, couldn't let that happen cuz reader was pregnant and all...

Thank you so much, lovey 💕 You're in for a treat!

→ Smokey Snuggles, Zero Struggles.

gif credit.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Pillow talk, smoking, implied smut, soft Ben, flufffff, antiquated mentality...

Setting: Prequel to Home one-shot; can be read as a standalone tho.

Ben swept his large arm over your body to pull you closer to his chest, his rough yet gentle hand resting on your thigh. Your body curled up to his as your chest heaved with soft pants, up and down, while his seed seeped out of your opening.

“Mmm, did I tucker you out, dollface?” He teased with that deep voice of his; you could hear the smirk in his tone.

“Not at all...” You shifted your head up, chin resting on his chest and eyes gazing up at him with playful intransigence.

He glanced down at you, relishing in the way your pretty fingers ran on his chest. “Good, ‘cause I was just getting started.”

Your lips let out a sheepish giggle concurring with a cute red smear across your cheeks.

It was still all new to you; the sex, the extravagant self-indulgence, the supe business, Vought, and him.

You'd met Ben in one of his educational tours throughout the country. He'd been on an awareness campaign spree, visiting local schools to sow the American values into the hearts of the young. Needless to say, the children were thrilled having the first superhero in their classrooms, sitting and reading for them — making them laugh even. The bastard had an alluring charm; everyone had been in love with him, and you were none the better. His damn swagger had a certain lure, it didn't take long to coax you out of the skirts of modesty into the lusciousness of his arms.

You were a new elementary teacher, a young woman brought up in a conservative household; it was inevitable to have a blatant shock when you entered Ben's life as his new partner, and intended to be wife-to-be — he didn't propose or promise you anything yet, mind you. Yet, him having family dinners with your parents, you moving in with him, him having you at his arm wherever he went; movie premieres, filmmaking, photoshoots, interviews, and more, he literally had you stuck to his hip. That had to mean something, right?

You tried to shrug off the thoughts that plagued your mind of the possibility of Ben dumping you. You shiver at the thought. The truth was, you were head over heels with him, and you honestly didn't know where you'd put yourself if he left you.

You felt him flex the arm he had on your thigh up behind his head, then you heard the flick of his lighter and soon the smell of burnt tobacco followed.

You glanced up at him. Ben's green eyes were staring ahead, the look on his face told you he was deep in ponderation. He absently inhaled from his cuban cigar.

The tip of your forefinger rubs circles on the centre of his chest, stroking the fuzzy wisps on his skin.

You knew he was giving you a break after he had been balls-deep inside of you for a couple of rounds. Ben was nearly insatiable when it came to you, but he always tried to keep himself in check that your human stamina could never match his, regardless of how many times you told him not to hold back.

“No,” He had said, caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “I could break you.”

You smiled with a blush at the memory, snuggling closer to him and letting your ear savour the strong beat of his heart. You really wanted the only one who'd own that heart, you really did.

When you glanced up at him again, he wasn't miles away like he was minutes ago. He was smiling down at you, before he leant in and pressed a light kiss on the crown of your head.

Your cheeks flourished red at the unbridled affection; he seldom showed such, and it never ceased to take you by surprise when he did so. Those moments of sweet dalliances assured you sometimes that you weren't just a fleeting fling.

You wanted to nuzzle closer to him but he shifted a bit to sit up, leaning his back to the headboard. You sit up as well, letting the sheets fall off your naked bosom. You weren't that shy girl anymore.

“Want a drag?” He offered you his cigar.

You smiled, “I-I could try…” You took the cigar as he turned to his bedside table and opened the drawer.

You shrugged and placed the stub between your lips and took a long drag. Wrong move. Because the moment the smouldering smoke hit the back of your throat, your eyes burnt up with tears and you started to cough.

Ben turned to you again, a rich laugh rumbling in his chest, he took the cigar from your hand and placed it in the ashtray, and patted your back gently. “Easy…”

“Holy—!” You croaked, hastily reaching for the glass of water on your bedside table, drinking it. “How do you smoke that shit?” You coughed again.

His laugh diluted into a deep chuckle, “It’s not so bad, you're the lightweight.”

“Oh, believe me, I couldn't handle you if I were one.” You let out a smooth giggle that soon turned into a chortle.

Ben chuckled again, before he wiped the drizzle of water away from the corner of your lips, and the tears away from your eyes.

You grinned at him, kissing his thumb.

“Marry me.” He said, making your eyes go wide. You blinked for a moment.

He read the confusion on your face and acted swiftly by holding a small box of velvet out for you, gently opening it. There was an elegant ring in the box, golden and meticulously-polished, encrusted with a glamorous diamond in its centre.

You opened your mouth then you closed it again; too stunned to find the right words to say.

“I-I don't know what to say.” You finally spoke, voice hushed both by the surprise and the whiff of the cigar from before.

“Say yes.” He grinned, plucking the ring from the box, twirling it deftly between his thumb and forefinger.

Your eyes teared up and you surprised him with a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He seemed to be taken aback by your reaction, but soon enough, he hugged you back, kissing your temple gently.

You found heavenly comfort in his open affections for you, relishing in the silent but blatant fact that they were only yours.

You nuzzled closer to his chest, burying your face in his neck, softly smooching his skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. Of course, he was teasing you. Typical Ben.

You pulled away, gushing, “Yes!” You sniffled cutely, “God, yes.”

Ben slipped his late mother's wedding ring into your hand before he leant in and kissed your knuckles.

“I love you…” He whispered in your ear, melting your heart with the sincerity of his words.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, “More than anything.”

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze , @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie...

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy imagines #the boys x reader #the boys x you #syrma writes

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shewroteaworld · 7 months ago

Text

How He Made You Feel

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Premise: Right before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship, Jake puts a high school teacher behind bars for attempted sexual assault. The case brings up some difficult high school memories for you.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sexual harassment, downplaying of sexual harassment

Word count: approx. 2,500

A/N: I'm back! Let me know in the comments if you want more Jake Peralta fics. (I'm not sure there's an audience for it.) Hope you enjoy! <3

Jake Peralta is the king of cinnamon buns. Eating the ones you bake, that is.

“This is like heaven on my tongue!” He moans. He licks some cream cheese frosting off the top. “Babe, these are seriously amazing.”

Your back relaxes. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Right after your shift at the 99th precinct, you zipped to your apartment to chill before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship (no pressure). Rather than chillaxing, your anxiety sparked, and kneading dough became the outlet. Your in-a-pinch cinnamon buns never fail to soothe your soul or anyone’s taste buds. Now that you’re in his kitchen, you’re grateful for the baking conniption. Jake’s indulgence gives you a moment to ground.

As he gulps down another bite, his eyebrow quirks. “Jakey?” He flashes that cheeky grin you love to hate.

Your face warms. “I never said that.”

“Nope! No take backs! It’s on the record!”

You scoff. “Aren’t you a little young for hearing loss?”

“Hey!” He pokes the edge of your forced frown. “You said it, and you know it, and it was adorable.”

Your heart beats in your ears. “You liked it?”

Jake’s eyes soften. “Yeah, I liked it.” He smirks mischievously. “And you’re getting all mushy on me.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Peralta.”

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He pokes your side.

You jerk away. “You don’t, and you know it.”

“If you say so! But I know what cutesy-nickname territory means.”

The buzz of his phone spares you from his ribbing. “Our DoorDash is here. I’m going to pick it up downstairs.” Jake slips on his slides.

“Kay. Thanks.”

He leans over his kitchen chair to kiss your cheek. “Course. BRB.”

Jake rushes out his apartment door. In his absence, you observe his place: the mopped kitchen tile, his clean olive green couch, his stash of beginner recipe books tucked on a shelf above a kitchen counter. When you first transferred to the 99, you couldn’t imagine Peralta had an inkling of an organized domestic in him.

Your tan trench coat hangs next to his leather NYPD jacket on the coat rack in the hall. Your heart palpitates. That was the first stitch of your domestic lives being sewn together. You wring your hands.

Jake doesn’t care about stains. You’ll eat Indian take-out from the container while watching some corny comedy he loves and you bemoan on his bare sofa. You tidy the kitchen table anyway.

The wave of anxiety begins to crest as you straighten junk mail from random magazines and political campaigns. You brush crumbs off the new placemats you forced on him through Office Secret Santa. (Weave placements are a recipe for soup-spill disasters.) You leave the manila files of cases he’s working on untouched off to the side.

You pour two tall glasses of water. So what if you ordered drinks? Jake’s bloodstream will become half orange soda if someone doesn’t counteract his addiction.

Just as you’re setting the glasses down, there’s a knock on the door.

You jump. Your hand jerks, sending a manila folder flying to the floor, its confidential contents scattering behind the island on impact. Shit.

“Forgot my keys, babe!” Jake calls.

“Coming!”

Upon opening the door, a smiley Jake awaits you, holding a white cardboard box to his chest. The mouth watering aromas wafting from it don’t calm your cortisol levels.

His head tilts. “Why the long face?”

You step aside. “When you knocked, I jumped and slapped one of your files off the kitchen table. I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “It’s no problem.” He says, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re on edge.

“Everything spilled out.” You elaborate. Though you wouldn’t describe Jake as neat, he’s particular. Though the order of his files and notes are Greek to everyone else, it makes sense to him. He hates when someone “tidies” it without his permission.

Jake walks towards the kitchen. “Yeah, on the floor, not another dimension. It’s okay. Besides, it doesn’t need to be in any specific order– I closed that case today. I’m returning everything to the file room first thing.”

You trail behind him. “Did you close while I was uptown with Boyle?”

“Yep.” He plops the takeout box on the table. He kneels down to gather the rogue papers. “While you were out gathering evidence, I was cracking the code on this creep.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sexual assault case?” You sort your take out into categories: his, hers, and shared.

Jake taps a stack of papers straight against a countertop. “Attempted. And he was a fucking high school teacher. Luckily, it was all on security cam. Easy win.”

The styrofoam carton of lamb samosas trembles in your hand. “That’s upsetting.”

“Majorly. Sadly, he’ll probably get off easy. I mean it was attempted. Not that it should’ve been full-on assault or that what happened isn’t terrible–”

“I understand what you mean, Jake.” You assure. It’s how sex crimes go.

You open your potato samosa carton. “These are the bomb dot com,” you say. It’s an easy lay up for him.

“That ass is the bomb dot com!” Your chest loosens at the change of topic.

You shoot Jake a glare. He puts his hands up.

He picks up the last of stray papers as you grab plates and utensils. When he’s done, he grabs the drink holder, your Pineapple Fanta and your pink lemonade each tucked in a cardboard slot. “Let’s go sit, m’lady.”

You reach for the drink holder with your free hand, but he twists his torso away. He nods towards the living room. “Relax. Pick a show. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

When Jake joins you on the couch, you immediately reach for your potato samosas.

“You weren’t kidding when you said those were your favorite.” Jake chuckles.

“Absolutely not. Try the lamb. They should be in the center– that’s the shared column.”

Jake affectionately rolls his eyes. “You treat life like an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Someone has to.” The cold condensation on your small pink lemonade chills your hand. “Hopefully, a detective would.”

He grabs his chest as if you struck him. “Your passive aggression is a stab to my heart!”

You pop open the container of jasmine rice. “What subject did that teacher teach?” You ask.

“The creeper?”

“Mhmm.”

Jake opens a container of chicken saagwala. “History.”

You hum disappointedly. “History teachers were always the coolest. Especially the male ones.” You stab your plastic fork into the rice and reach for the curry.

“Now I wish I slept less in history class.” Jake remarks.

You stare blankly at the coffee table as you spoon your (hopefully) extra spicy curry onto your plate.

The couch sighs as Jake sinks back into the cushions, his left arm stretching to lay behind you on the sofa’s back. “Such a scumbag. The girl was barely legal–could’ve been one of his own students. To make matters worse, she looked 16.”

In your head, you count your breaths. You zone in on the white grains of rice you’re absentmindedly pushing into your curry sauce.

You see your high school hallway. You remember the misery, the pressure. Mr. Johnston.

“You listening to me, babe?”

He taps your calf with the tip of his slide. You flinch.

“Sorry,” he says. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s alright.”

In your peripheral vision, he leans forward. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’m great.” You click on his TV. “Just got a bit lost in my thoughts for a second.”

You feel Jake studying your side profile.

You click on Netflix. “Let’s do something lighthearted.” You drop down to his My List. Thankfully, you don’t have to search long to find something passable.

“This one okay?” You ask. “I’ve been wanting to watch this too.”

“More than okay.”

The strings of the production company’s opening music fill the living room. You fiddle with your fork. Queasiness bites at you.

You need to shake this. This was your first sleepover with Jake. Don’t ruin this experience for yourself. It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you were alright. It was nowhere close to what that victim experienced. You’re fine. Is your asthma acting up?

You rest your plate on the coffee table. “Keep watching. I need the restroom real quick.”

You speed walk across the apartment to his bathroom, locking the door behind you. You turn the faucet to screeching cold. You dip your head into the basin and splash ice water in your face.

Your lungs gasp open from shock. Your brain drops back into your body.

Everything’s safe. You’re okay. Tonight will be great. Don’t let some creep going to trial rattle you like this and ruin the evening.

You find a clean towel in a drawer and dry your face. After taking a detour to his bathroom to toss it in his hamper, you take three final deep breaths, your hand over your heart.

You’re fine. Nothing’s happening.

You return to the couch with a soft smile. “Sorry, Jake.”

“No problem. You okay?” He asks again.

You hate lying to him. “Yeah, I just had to pee.”

The movie snaps back to action. Though you didn’t ask, he paused for you. As the film unfurls, as predicted, you poke fun at the plot and Jake ardently defends it. The banter warms you, but the knot in the pit of your stomach refuses to unfurl.

Once your plate is clean, you lay your head on Jake’s shoulder. As the leading actress does something you don’t register, Jake’s laughter ripples through your hollow chest.

It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you survived it. He never touched you. It was so long ago. He must be retired by now. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to be your fault. Nothing criminal happened. Nothing. It was so–

“(Y/N).”

You gasp. You snap up straight. The movie’s been paused.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention.” Jake says gently.

Your heart sinks. “It’s…I’m just in my head.” You roughly run a hand through your hair. “So sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You stare at your knees.

Jake intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s definitely substantial for you to be distracted like this.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m here.”

You smile sadly. “I don’t want to bring the vibe down.”

“Acquiring (Y/N) lore rivals catching bad guys as my favorite thing to do. Telling me about your feelings could never bring the vibe down. ”

A courteous dismissal gets tangled in your throat. Is that really what you want to say?

Your free hand fiddles with the end of your hair. “I really don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You force a deep breath. “Your case threw me off.”

His eyebrows knit. “The teacher–creep one?”

You nod. “The teacher…you said he harassed a young woman who looked 16.”

He nods.

“It reminds me of an experience I had in high school when I was 17.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “How so?” He asks gently.

“There was… this science teacher– Mr. Johnston. One semester, I had to walk by his classroom everyday. I had to walk from my homeroom on the opposite end of the school, so sometimes I would get there right after the bell rang. When I was alone, he would always offer to walk me to class…even though it was only a couple doors down from his.”

Jake nods.

“He said he was trying to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for tardiness…but he never told my teacher he walked me. And he did it even after he knew I wouldn’t get in trouble and that I was only going two doors down from his classroom.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“He also used to do this weird thing where he would walk right behind me…I think it was supposed to be copying my walk to tease me. One day, he came up super close behind me– close enough to smell my perfume. All I could think about was how close to my ass he was.”

Anger cuts through Jake’s expression. “Did anyone see this?”

“Some other teachers did. They didn’t see anything wrong with it…they laughed it off everytime. I guess they saw it as a harmless joke. But, it made me really uncomfortable. Everyday I would pray that he wouldn’t say hi to me or be weird and would just let me walk to class. I figured maybe I was crazy, making something out of nothing, but it just felt wrong. At the time, I tried to block it out, I had other stressors to deal with…but right after I graduated, I reflected on it and other stories I heard about him…and I was creeped out.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. Did you ever report this?”

“I confided in another teacher about it, but I never formally reported anything. I don’t know if he ever talked to his colleague about his behavior. Plus, I didn't think there was anything concrete to report.” You sigh. “It felt so wrong. I remember being so afraid of being alone in a room with him…he was a co-advisor for some extracurriculars I was a part of. There, he was always completely indifferent towards me but in those hallways in the morning…”

“With less people.” Jake notes. “And colleagues who didn’t take his behavior seriously.”

You nod.

“(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. That isn’t okay.”

“I’m still not really sure if anything did happen to me. He didn’t touch me….he just…”

Jake shakes his head. “Followed you down hallways and got close to your body. That’s not okay.” He squeezes your hand again. “How did it make you feel?”

“Violated.” You admit.

Jake nods. “That’s what matters. How he made you feel matters. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake offers you a tissue. “Do you know what ever happened to that teacher?”

You wipe your eyes. “I believe he retired…not 100% sure.”

His face hardens. “I can track him down if you like.”

“No, Jake…there’s nothing to report. No evidence. Just a dead-end case of “he said she said” from over 10 years ago. Even if I reported it earlier, I doubt anything could have happened.”

Jake groans. “This sucks. I’m sorry for what you went through. No one should feel uncomfortable with a teacher at school. Jesus, every time I think I get what women go through, I learn it’s worse than I imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

You dab your eyes. “Thank you for not belittling what happened to me. It’s great to have someone like you...you don't downplay what I feel."

He kisses your nose. “It’s part of my boyfriend duties; it’s what I’m here for.”

You press a tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for being a safe space to talk.”

He returns the peck. “Forever and always.”

Jake Peralta is a goofball. He can be messy– both literally and figuratively. But at the core of it all was a mensch’s heart.

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azzo0 · 9 months ago

Text

Happy Mama Day

Summary: Touya and the kids surprise you for Mother's Day.

Contains: soft Touya, fluff, kids n sappy stuff

Pairing: Touya x f!reader

wc: 2.1k

Based on this idea.

Touya buried his face under a blanket when little hands slapped his cheek. A little girl's voice screamed at him excitedly to wake up. He opened his eyes slightly, sighing into the pillow when both his kids started jumping on the bed, singing, "Wake up! Wake up!"

"Daddy, Daddy, Keiko said it's Mama day today!" His son yelled, pulling the blanket off him.

"It's called Mother's Day, not Mama Day, Takeo." His daughter sassed, crossing her arms as if she knew some great secret her younger brother didn't.

"Stop jumping, Takeo. I'm up." Touya sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his snowy hair, disheveled from sleep. Takeo jumped into Touya's lap, making him let out an 'oomph.'

"Daddy, Keiko told me-" the three-year-old began. Sometimes, Toya was surprised by how fluently the child could speak since most three-year-old's he knew yapped in baby language. He talked to Rei about it, and she told him he used to be the same.

"Keiko-Nee." He corrected, his gaze shifting to his eldest. She excitedly crawled to him and sat on her knees excitedly. He ruffled her bright red hair and looked down at Takeo, "What did she tell you?"

"Keiko-Nee told me that her teacher told her it's Mama Day!" The boy exclaimed.

"Is it?" He hummed.

"Can we do something special for Mama when she gets back from work?" Keiko asked. "My teacher told me you can show your thanks to your mothers today! Let's do something special!"

"How do we show our thanks?" Takeo asked, tilting his head.

"We can make her cards and make her favorite food or buy her gifts!"

Takeo gasped and looked up at Touya with wide eyes, the same colour as yours, "Does that mean we can cook a cake?"

"Bake a cake," Touya threw the child over his shoulder and got off the bed, holding a hand out for Keiko. She took his hand and jumped off the bed, "Sure we can, but first you two need to eat breakfast, clean up your rooms, get ready for the day, do your homework and then we'll bake Mama a cake, okay?"

"It's not fair that I have homework and Takeo doesn't!" Keiko lamented, puffing her cheeks out.

"He does have homework. He has a colouring book to fill. Isn't that right, Taki?"

The three year old nodded his head even though he wasn't sure what 'homework' was. Touya took the kids downstairs and made them sit at the dining table. He went into the kitchen and put on the apron. He took out a few eggs and beat them up with milk and sugar. He dipped slices of bread inside the eggs and then fried them, keeping them a little soft because that's the way his babies liked it.

He took the plates out in the dining room, setting them in front of the kids, "Eat up."

"Thank you," the two chimed.

He sat across from Keiko and Takeo. He sighed when Takeo began breaking the bread into bits without putting them in his mouth. Touya quickly finished his breakfast and helped Takeo with his. After breakfast, the kids followed him upstairs so they could clean their bedrooms. Keiko was six, old enough to make her bed and tidy her room, but Takeo still needed help, given he was only three.

He folded Takeo's blanket and kept it in the crib while Takeo picked up the toys littered on the floor and dumped them in the toybox. Once Touya was done with Takeo's room, he went to Keiko's room, watching his daughter huff and puff as she folded her giant blanket all by herself. She turned to him after she was done, flexing her arms, "I did it by myself!"

"You did great, Keiko." He lowered his back with Takeo on his hip and kissed Keiko's hair. He took her hand and led the kids to the bathroom.

He put Takeo down, took Keiko's unicorn toothbrush, put a small amount of toothpaste on it and handed it to her. He then proceeded to put toothpaste on Takeo's smaller shark toothbrush. He gave him the toothbrush and watched him look up at his sister and try to imitate her. Touya smiled to himself and took his toothbrush hanging beside yours. He brushed his teeth along with his kids and then helped them wash their faces, making them giggle when he patted them dry.

"Cake time!" Keiko squealed, stomping downstairs with Takeo chanting 'cake' behind her.

"Homework first, you two." Touya reminded sternly.

"But I don't have school tomorrow. I can do it later!" Keiko whined, "And Taki's homework isn't even real homework! You just make him sit down and colour a bunch'a pages so you can watch soccer on the TV!"

Toya raised his eyebrows amusedly as Keiko tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. He let out a chuckle and turned to the kitchen, "Alright, alright. Just don't make a mess, okay?"

"Yes!!" She exclaimed, taking Takeo's hand and following after her father.

Touya helped Keiko and Takeo into little aprons and rummaged through the cabinets, looking for the cake mix he bought ages ago. It's not that he didn't know how to bake a cake from scratch, but with two kids involved, the kitchen was bound to get chaotic. He found a vanilla cake mix and took out a bowl and a hand beater, setting everything on the counter. He opened the flaps of the cake mix as the kids watched him excitedly. He took out a white coloured packet and cut it open with a pair of scissors.

"Can I put it in the bowl?" Keiko asked.

"Sure ya can. Come closer." He handed her the packet, and she carefully put the mix into the bowl. Keiko snatched the cake mix box and read the instructions, squinting her eyes as she tried to read the sentences.

"It says to... mix water, oil, 'n eggs with a mixer on... meedum...?"

"Medium," Toya corrected, encouraging her to go on.

"...speed or beat by hand for two minutes." She finished with a grin. Touya patted her hair and measured out the water and oil, which Takeo insisted he wanted to pour. Touya picked up Takeo so he could reach for the cups he had measured. He watched Takeo pick up the cup of oil in his chubby hands and empty it into the cake mix, followed by the water.

"You want to crack the egg?" Toya asked Keiko, smiling when she nodded excitedly. He showed her how to crack an egg and then handed her another one. She managed to crack the egg and let its contents fall into a bowl.

"Do we beat with an electric mixer or hand?" Keiko asked.

"Hand beater," Toya replied. He mixed the ingredients and then let Keiko take over for a little bit. Of course, Takeo didn't want to be left out and had to take a turn whipping the batter.

"And then we pop it in the oven," Touya transferred the batter into a cake pan and put it in the oven that had been preheating for some time.

"Daddy, while we wait, let's make Mama a birthday card!" Keiko exclaimed, pulling on his hand.

"I've got some cleaning up to do, Kei. You make one with your brother-"

"No! Don't you gotta wish Mom Happy Mother's Day too?" Keiko put her foot down and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, let's make a mama card," Takeo added.

"Fine," Touya sighed, "Let's go make a mama card."

He sat on the floor in the living room with the kids. Keiko handed him and Takeo A4-size papers and let them use her sketch pens and colour pencils. She told him how to make a card, speaking as if she was giving away the world's darkest secret, "So, basically, you fold it in half like this, and then you write 'Happy Mother's Day' in fancy handwriting. You can make a drawing if you wanna, and then on the inside, you thank Mama for all she's done. Any questions?"

"No, ma'am, thank you." Dabi picked up a blue sketch pen and nudged Takeo, "Say thanks to your sister, Taki."

"Fanks."

Touya had never made cards for anyone before. Sure, he'd received plenty of sweet ones from you, but he never gave you one in return. He folded the paper in half and tried mustering up his fanciest handwriting, which turned out looking like a doctor's note. He picked up a red sketch pen and threw in a couple of hearts and smiley faces.

He moved on to the inside of the card, and that's where he got stuck. The green sketch pen hovered over the paper as he thought of what to put inside. He had so much he wanted to thank you for. Your love, your support and your kindness. The list went on and on. He glanced up from the paper to see Keiko beautifully decorating the card while Takeo went on a scribbling spree. He smiled softly at the kids and looked down at the paper. He knew just what to write.

You knocked on the door and yawned, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. It had been a long day at work, but you couldn't wait to greet your husband and kids and then spend some time together on the couch after dinner. You heard a few excited cries, and the door was thrown open.

"HAPPY MAMA DAY!!" Takeo screamed, hugging your leg.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Keiko exclaimed with a grin, hopping from foot to foot.

"Oh, my babies." You smiled and stepped inside, pulling them both in a hug. You kissed their cheeks and made them giggle. "Thank you so much."

"No, thank you for all you do, Mama! You're so cool!" Keiko beamed.

"So cool!" Takeo agreed.

"Okay, okay, let ya mama breathe." You looked up when you heard Touya's voice. His lips tugged up on the side in a smirk, "Hey. Happy Mama Day."

"Thank you," you laughed, kissing his cheek.

"We baked you a cake, and Papa made your favorite dinner!" Keiko exclaimed, "We also made you cards!"

"Mhm?" You took the card from Keiko and read through it with a stupid grin. You kissed her nose, "Aww, thank you, Kei. You're so sweet."

"Here is my mama card." Takeo waved his drawing in front of your face. You took it from him and gushed over the stick figures of him and you holding hands.

"It's lovely, thank you, Taki." You squished his cheeks together lovingly.

"Papa, where's your card?" Keiko asked.

"I didn't make any. What are you talking about?" Touya shrugged.

"Lies!"

Touya sheepishly revealed the hand in which he held the card. You got up from the floor and took the card, giggling at his messy handwriting adorned with hearts, flowers and smiley faces. It was so unlike him. You flipped it open and read it.

Happy Mama Day, wifey.

There's a lot I wish I could say to you more often, but putting it here feels easier. Thank you for all that you've done for me and our kids. Thank you for being by my side when nobody was and for holding my hand on sleepless nights and shooing away my nightmares. Thanks for dragging me out of my depressive episodes and taking me on ice cream dates. I'll never forget them. The ice cream was delicious, by the way.

Thank you for birthing our beautiful children. I'm so lucky to have you by my side to raise our kids. You're my definition of a blessing in human form.

With love,

Your handsome husband,

Touya

(P.S. You have a nice butt)

Your hands quivered as you read the note. Your eyes blurred with hot tears. They fell onto the card, and he pulled you into him and kissed your temple. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your nose in his chest, feeling his warmth seep into your skin, "Thank you, Touya."

"My words hit ya that deep? Maybe I should be a poet." He chuckled, combing your hair with his fingers.

"There's nothin' poetic about it." You muffled into his chest. You pulled away and pressed a kiss on his lips. His hand went to rest on your lower back as he leaned into you.

You were aware of the kids watching, so you pulled away and glanced back to see Keiko pretending to be very interested in the door handle while Takeo tugged at his sister's sleeve. You chuckled and held an arm open, "Come here, Keiko, Takeo."

You scooped up Takeo while Touya picked up Keiko. You let your head rest against Touya's shoulder, your heart brimming with joy and contentment, "I love my little family."

#touya fluff #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x you #mha x reader #dabi #azzo writes

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certaimromance · 2 months ago

Text

✮ Bittersweet Sixteen.

TASM! Peter Parker x Kindergarden teacher!reader

Summary: After weeks of not speaking, you need Peter to do you a favor and put his suit back on. But the last thing you expected was to find your heart beating for him again, just like in high school.

Words: 4,2k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lack of communication. friends to lovers. pure fluff. first kiss yep. temporarily located years after the last movie, peter has already graduated from college and left the life of a superhero. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I have had this in my drafts since I started writing here (months ago) and it makes me very happy to be able to stop correcting it a thousand times and publish it.

Your office was your sanctuary. It was the only space in the entire school that offered a reprieve from the chaos—quiet, orderly, and a place where you could drink hot coffee in peace, without worrying about a child knocking it over. But today, everything about the space felt…off. Your desk, usually neat and meticulously arranged, was cluttered, a bag sitting on top that didn’t belong to you. The air was tense, charged with unspoken words. And most notably, you weren’t alone.

Peter Parker sat in the chair across from you, hunched over slightly as he fought with the too-snug sleeves of his old Spiderman suit. The blue and red fabric was wrinkled from years of disuse, clinging to him as though it, too, was reluctant to let go of the past. His hair was mussed from pulling the mask off earlier, and his expression was a mix of concentration and awkwardness as he avoided your gaze.

The last time you’d seen him was on your date—a surprisingly pleasant evening at a restaurant that had intimidated you at first with its crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. You’d laughed more than you expected, found small moments of genuine connection beyond that of usual friendship, and left the night feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful. It ended with a polite goodbye and a brief, somewhat hesitant hug. It made you think of the teenage girl you used to be, who had a crush on him back in high school. It might have been silly, but you felt butterflies, and you were sure he did too.

But then…nothing. No calls. No texts. You’d waited, your phone practically glued to your hand, each notification making your heart jump. Days turned into weeks, and the silence between you solidified, leaving you wondering if perhaps the connection had only been one-sided. Now, he had come to your work, yes—but not for you. At least, not in the way you’d once imagined.

It was all because one of your students was the biggest Spiderman fan you had ever met, and that was quite a lot for a kid who had practically lived more without the superhero in action than with him saving lives and walking between buildings. It was only a matter of time before you had a lightbulb moment.

“You know,” Peter said suddenly, his voice breaking the heavy quiet, “I don’t think this suit has seen daylight in years.” He tugged at the sleeve, grimacing when it resisted. “Either it shrank, or I grew. Both are bad options.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, a reluctant smile forming despite the tension. “It’s probably the suit. Lycra has a way of holding grudges if you don’t treat it right.”

Just like me, you thought. You still were trying to remind yourself that he was just there to surprise one of your students and that it wasn't about you or your friendship.

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking down at the suit. “It’s been a few years, at least. I’ve been busy…you know, at the lab.”

You stepped closer, reaching out instinctively to smooth the fabric along his shoulder. The action was small, but the proximity sent a wave of awareness through you. His shoulders were broader than you remembered—had he always carried himself with this quiet strength?

Damn, you had to concentrate. Really.

“Right,” you said softly, focusing on adjusting the suit. “The lab. I know…but you’re still good at the hero thing. Showing up, being there for people. That’s kind of the most important part, right?”

He looked up at you then, his brown eyes catching yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he offered a lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t say no. Not to you.”

Your fingers paused on the cuff of his sleeve. The words were simple, but they landed heavily, stirring something in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name. It was probably your heart exploding, just like when he would pass you in the hallways at school and accidentally brush your shoulder against his or when I smiled at you suddenly and said that you looked good. It was deja vu. A big one.

“You didn’t have to,” you replied, stepping back to create some distance. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been too busy.” Just like how you were these weeks, not to call me.

“Too busy for Spiderman’s number one fan? That’d be a pretty lame excuse.” His attempt at humor was there, but his tone carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite decipher—something apologetic, maybe even regretful.

You folded your arms, creating a barrier you hoped would steady you before talking. “Jamie’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” you said, your tone deliberately light. “It’s the perfect birthday surprise.”

His face softened at the mention of your student, and he seemed genuinely grateful for the change in topic. “Jamie,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “You said he’s, what, five? Six?”

“He turned six today,” you corrected, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And completely obsessed with you—well, with Spiderman. He spends half his recess pretending to swing between buildings, and his favorite art project this year was a crayon drawing of you fighting a giant lizard. It’s hanging on the bulletin board outside the classroom if you want to see it.”

“Now I definitely have to see it,” Peter said, his grin returning. “Sounds like my toughest critic.”

“Hardly,” you replied, the warmth in your tone surprising even yourself. “He thinks you walk on water. You’re going to make his entire year just by walking into that classroom with his birthday cake.”

He shifted in his seat, his usual boyish charm dimming slightly as he looked at you. “You’re the one making this happen. You didn’t have to ask me to do this. It means a lot, you know. That you thought of me.”

The weight of his words settled between you, making your heart tighten. There was something in his tone—earnest, maybe even vulnerable—that made it hard to look away. You knew better than anyone how much the decision to give up the hero role had cost him, how many times you two had talked about whether this was his true purpose in life.

“Of course I thought of you,” you said softly, and then, more hesitantly, “I mean, you’re Spiderman. Who else was I going to call for this?”

Parker chuckled, but there was a note of self-deprecation in the sound. That was not an answer to be expected, no matter how obvious it was.

“Yeah. Spiderman. Right.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the edge of the mask sitting on your desk. “I just…I didn’t think you’d call me at all. After, you know...”

There it was. The thing neither of you had been brave enough to address until now. Why? Why? Why?

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. You could feel the silence closing in, like the pause between breaths right before a storm breaks. His eyes—those warm, familiar chocolate eyes—seemed to be searching yours, as if waiting for some kind of answer, but you couldn’t quite find the words. He was your friend, your best friend, someone you could tell anything to. But now, nothing coherent can really come out of your mouth.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Your heart thudded against your ribs, and you knew you had to break the silence. But now wasn’t the time. Not in this place. Not like this.

“Let’s…let’s focus on Jamie, okay?” you blurted, your voice coming out sharper than you intended, almost a little too loud for the small space.

He blinked, clearly startled by the sudden shift, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

“Right, Jamie,” Peter echoed, giving you a smile that was a little too tight, a little too cautious. He shifted, standing up from the chair, and the air around you seemed to settle just a little.

You cleared your throat, stepping back, your gaze flicking to the clock on your wall. “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you walk through that door.”

He looked at you, his lips twitching at the corners, though the tension in his eyes didn’t fully fade. “You’re sure you don’t want me to do a big dramatic entrance? Swing through the window or something?”

You laughed, though it felt a little strained. “Let’s keep it simple, okay? We don’t want to traumatize any of my kids.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He moved towards the door, and for a second, you hesitated. He was still wearing the suit—his Spiderman suit, the one that had once made him a legend in your eyes. But now, as you stood there, a thought nagged at the back of your mind. The suit was a part of him, yes, but so was the mask. The mask was his identity, the thing that separated the hero from the man.

“Hey, wait,” you said, your voice softer than before, and he paused mid-step. You walked over to him, the sudden proximity almost overwhelming. The mask sat on your desk, waiting, like a silent question. Your heart raced as you picked it up, turning it in your hands for a moment, letting the weight of it settle. “You should probably put this on. You know, just to keep your identity safe. We don’t want anyone knowing who you really are, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice lower now, almost distracted.

You swallowed hard, your hands suddenly trembling slightly as you moved closer to him. The space between you seemed impossibly small, and for a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, suspended in this strange, fragile moment. You could feel the warmth of his body, the soft rhythm of his breath as he stood in front of you, and for the first time since he walked into your office, it felt like the distance between you had closed.

And for a moment, everything felt like it did in high school, when you were both teenagers trying to hide the secret and not to fail your subjects.

Gently, you reached up, lifting the mask toward his face. His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, everything in the room stilled. You could feel the weight of his gaze. And in that moment, as you moved to place the mask over his face, your fingers brushed against his skin—a simple touch, but one that felt electric. His jaw tensed under your fingertips, his breath hitching slightly.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing, and carefully slid the mask into place. The action was small, but it felt monumental, the kind of quiet gesture that spoke volumes. It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, and as you adjusted the mask, making sure it was secure, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted again in your heart.

“Perfect,” you said softly.

Peter looked at you, now fully transformed into Spiderman, and despite the mask, there was something in his posture, in the way he stood, that was unmistakably him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled through the fabric, though there was still a tenderness in his tone.

The sounds of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder as you moved toward the classroom, the vibrant energy of the moment standing in stark contrast to the quiet tension that had surrounded you both earlier. You stole a glance at Peter. Even in the suit, even behind the mask, you could feel his nervousness, a subtle hesitation in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight uncertainty in his step. It was as if he was still learning how to be this version of himself again, but the earnestness was unmistakable.

When you reached the door, you paused, turning to face him. “Ready?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying the weight of the moment.

“Born ready,” he replied, his smile audible even through the mask, though it was tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping in first to scan the room. The instant the door swung wide, the children’s eyes locked on you, their faces lighting up with excitement. Jamie, sitting at the small table with his friends, froze mid-conversation. His eyes widened, his face glowing with anticipation as he jumped to his feet.

“Miss! Is it time for the surprise?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Not just yet,” you said, your lips curving into a conspiratorial smile. “But I think you’ll want to pay attention.”

And then, with a theatrical flair you hadn’t expected, Spiderman stepped through the doorway and the cobwebs appeared. The room erupted in gasps and squeals of delight as the kids leapt from their chairs, crowding around him with wide-eyed awe.

Jamie froze, his mouth hanging open as he clutched the edge of the table. “No way,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “It’s really him?”

Peter crouched down to Jamie’s level, his movements fluid and natural despite the years away from the suit. “Happy birthday, Jamie,” he said, extending a hand for a high-five. “Someone tell me you’re my biggest fan.”

A soft laugh bubbled in your chest at the mention. The kid hesitated, looking at you for confirmation, and then, with all the enthusiasm his tiny six-year-old body could muster, slapped his hand against Peter’s gloved one with the loudest, most joyful smack. “You’re real! You’re really real!”

The other children chattered excitedly, peppering Spiderman with questions about his powers and his adventures. He handled it all with practiced ease, weaving just enough humor into his answers to keep them laughing but still utterly convinced that he was, in fact, the superhero they adored.

As you watched him, standing back and taking it all in, a soft warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t just good at this—he was great. His ease with the kids, the effortless way he connected with them, it was clear: he was a hero not only in costume but in every little action. The doubts that had plagued him, the years spent questioning if the mask was still a part of him, seemed so far away in that moment. He had it—the ability to inspire, to make people believe, to make them feel seen and important.

For the first time in weeks, you felt that flutter in your chest again—the one you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. It was hope, soft and steady, like a heartbeat you’d forgotten how to hear until now.

You stayed near the back of the classroom, content to let Peter soak up the adoration while you took a couple of pictures of it. But every now and then, he would catch your eye, and even through the mask, you could feel the gratitude radiating off him. It was a silent thank-you, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond between you, for pulling him into this moment, for giving him the chance to be this version of himself. You nodded, your lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

When the excitement finally began to settle, the cake was brought out, and Jamie proudly showed Peter his crayon drawing—an adorable depiction of Spiderman battling a huge, ferocious lizard. He studied it for a moment before declaring with all the sincerity he could muster, “Museum-worthy,” making the kid’s face light up with pride. The joy in the room was palpable, and it was impossible to tell who was happier: the children, who were living out their dreams, or the superhero himself, who was finally realizing that, perhaps, there was still a place for him in this world.

Eventually, it was time for him to “swing” away, and after a round of hugs and high-fives, he disappeared down the hall, leaving a room full of awestruck children in his wake. You stayed behind, cleaning up the remnants of the party and basking in the lingering joy.

By the time you returned to your office and all the kids to their houses, the hallways were quieter, and the sound of little feet had faded. But when you stepped inside, there he was—Peter, still waiting for you, now back in his civilian clothes, the Spidey suit crumpled in one hand like a tired, old memory.

“Oh,” you said, a little startled. “I thought you’d already left.” I wish.

“I figured I’d stick around for a bit,” he said quietly, running a hand through his hair, still slightly ruffled from the mask. “I don’t exactly get to see kids this excited for me every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “You really made Jamie’s day. I’ve never seen him so starstruck. He’s going to be talking about this for his whole life.”

Peter chuckled, but it was a little strained. “It’s good to know I’m still that impressive,” he said, his tone light, though there was an underlying sadness that didn’t quite match the words. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been in the game…you know, the hero thing.”

You just nodded. “You are good at it, you know.”

His smile was a little wistful as he tossed the suit onto the desk, his eyes following it for a moment before meeting yours again. “Yeah…but that’s not really what I came here to talk about.”

At his words, you felt a flicker of curiosity mixed with unease. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Oh? What did you want to talk about?” Please say you want to correct my bad posture when I took the pictures or something.

He shifted in his seat, his fingers nervously tapping against the desk. “Honestly…I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks,” Peter began, his voice quieter now, almost like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “About you…about us. And, well, I guess I just…I missed you.”

Oh, that.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his words. For a moment, the room seemed to close in around you, your breath catching in your chest. He missed you? You hadn’t expected that.

Before you could respond, he went on, his words coming faster, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I know things have been weird since the date. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to just text you or call and make it feel like I was making things awkward. You know? So, I guess I just…waited for you, and I get the message.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and every conclusion you ever had was shattered.

“Wait,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “You were waiting for me to call?”

“Yeah. I mean…I thought maybe you were the one who needed space, and I didn’t want to rush things or make it weird. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want.”

Not ready? Don’t want? You literally had been wanting it since you were sixteen.

You blinked again, feeling a warm flush spread through you. “I…I thought you were the one avoiding it. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I didn’t reach out either.”

His eyes widened slightly as the words sunk in, and for a moment, there was just a long silence between you, filled with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above. Then, finally, a soft laugh escaped him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too, the tension easing slightly.

“I guess we were both just sitting here thinking the other person would make the first move,” Peter said with a grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “This is ridiculous,” you said, your laughter soft but genuine. “We’ve been friends for years, and now we’re both too nervous to talk about it.”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Yeah. Seems like we’ve been pretty bad at this whole communicating thing.”

The laughter between you two died down, the room suddenly feeling warmer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft shuffle of Peter’s shoes against the floor. You felt a spark of something flicker within you—something long suppressed, a longing, an ache you hadn’t quite realized until now.

He shifted in his chair, a bit unsure of what to do next, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the fabric of his crumpled suit. His eyes met yours, and for a second, the weight of everything—your shared history, the unspoken words, and the lingering emotions—hung in the air like a delicate thread waiting to snap.

“I guess we should…try this again,” he murmured, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. “If you want.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm, but this time it wasn’t from nerves. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, feeling the presence of him so close you could almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Yeah…let’s try again,” you whispered, almost to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “I want it.”

Peter stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was giving you time to change your mind. His hand reached out slightly, as if asking for permission, and you met him halfway, your fingers brushing against his. A spark of warmth shot through you, igniting a familiar flame.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Your breath caught, heart pounding, as you met his gaze—his brown eyes soft, but with that unmistakable spark of affection you had longed for.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured softly, his words both an affirmation and a confession. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch in your chest. You smiled shyly, unsure how to respond but feeling the weight of his words settle deep within you.

Slowly, he leaned in, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. His lips brushed against yours lightly, just a whisper of a kiss, a hesitant touch that held more promise than any grand declaration. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, feeling your body relax into the familiarity of him. His lips lingered against yours for a heartbeat before pulling back, as if checking in, unsure of how much was too much, too soon.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said, his voice a little shaky, as if unsure of how to navigate this new territory between you two. “I just want to take things slow, see where this goes…do it right.”

You nodded in agreement, your hands gently gripping his as you let the moment linger. “Yeah, me too. No need to rush.”

He stepped back slightly, looking at his watch with a sigh. “I should go,” he said, his smile a little sad. “I’ve got work, and you probably have things to do.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you understood. The moment, as sweet as it had been, couldn’t last forever.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

He nodded, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yes, you definitely will.”

Peter took a step back toward the door, but before he could reach for the handle, he stopped, turning to face you once more. There was a hesitation in his eyes, a pull that seemed to tether him to you in that moment. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few strides, his hand reaching for you again, this time more urgent, more sure.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours again—this time, deeper, more insistent, as if he could no longer wait for you to make the first move. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—of all the missed chances, of the longing, of everything unspoken between you. It was both sweet and desperate, a promise and a question wrapped up in one.

You responded instantly, your hands finding his shoulders as you leaned into the kiss, feeling the heat of his body against yours. For a few moments, nothing else mattered but the rhythm of your kiss, the way his fingers brushed your hair back, and the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Finally, when the kiss broke, both of you stood there, breathing a little heavier than before, eyes locked in a silent exchange that said more than words ever could.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his expression a mix of longing and determination. “I’m not waiting anymore,” he said softly, as if to himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You smiled, the weight of his confession making your heart flutter. “Then don’t wait,” you whispered back.

And with that, Peter leaned in one last time, pressing his lips to yours, not with hesitation or doubt, but with the certainty that whatever this was—whatever was between you two—was worth fighting for, even if you both weren't sixteen anymore.

#tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x you #spiderman #peter parker #andrew garfield

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janiehellion · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐫𝛐𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon knew better than to challenge you, yet the thrill of breaking the rules was too tempting to resist. He let you play your game—by his own rules—because certain forbidden lessons in trouble were just meant to be learned.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Blowjob ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Rough Sex ⋮ Taboo

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.350 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: Teacher AU 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Student!Reader

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @mikes-babygirl

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

You walked into the room, already preparing yourself for another boring day at college. It wasn’t that you hated college exactly—it was just more of the same, day after day. You threw your bag next to your desk and sat down in your seat, scrolling through your phone while the other college students started to get ready for class.

But then you looked over to the door.

Of all people to be teaching today—it was him. Mr. Dixon. Just your luck. You’d always had a problem with this guy. Sure, he was good-looking—annoyingly good-looking, actually—but that just made it worse. Someone that hot shouldn’t have the right to be such a pain in the ass. And the constant lecturing like he knew everything? He had that whole "I’m smarter than you!" attitude, and it drove you crazy.

He hadn’t done anything yet, but just the sight of him was enough to piss you off.

And as soon as he started the lesson, talking and gesturing around, you immediately zoned out.

It just didn’t matter.

You were more focused on how he stood there, acting like he had everything under control and looking all arrogant. You hated that. And there was no way you were just going to sit through this class quietly.

So you raised your hand slowly.

"Yeah?" Mr. Dixon turned to you, raising an eyebrow in that way that made you want to punch his face.

You shrugged, leaning back casually. "Just wondering... what’s the point of all this? I mean, history? It’s not like we need this for our major. This has nothing to do with what we're actually studying."

He looked irritated but kept his cool. Of course he did. "It’s 'bout understandin' why the world works the way it does—no matter what field you’re in."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Like learning this bullshit is gonna pay my bills."

A few students laughed, but Mr. Dixon's expression didn’t change. "The point of learning history is to understand how people like ya keep makin' the same mistakes—and why they're still broke."

"Sounds like a waste of time," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He paused, staring at you for a moment longer than necessary, so you leaned forward, looking into his eyes as if daring him to say something else. He wouldn’t. He knew better.

Daryl sighed loudly and continued with the lesson, but you weren’t done. Throughout the class, you kept at it—making comments or sighing dramatically in annoyance every time he explained something.

At one point, you put your feet up on the desk, pushing your chair back lazily. "Seriously, Dixon, can we speed this up? Some of us have better things to do."

His eyes looked toward your legs, then back to your face, but he didn’t say anything. He was trying hard to keep his cool.

With a yawn, you stretched your arms over your head, and as time went on, you decided to continue.

"So, Dixon," you said loudly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Ever thought about getting a real job instead of just playing teacher?"

This time, he paused. Really paused.

You knew you’d provoke him eventually, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to react.

But instead, he just gave you a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. "Careful, ya might just find out I’m more qualified than ya think."

Your heart skipped a beat. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

In one way or another, you spent the rest of class barely paying attention, since something about that smirk he gave you before had pissed you off more than usual.

As soon as the bell for the break rang, you waited near the classroom door, pretending to chat with a few friends until he left the room as well. Once the hallway was empty and everyone was out of sight, you slipped back in.

First, you walked up to his desk, staring at the pile of papers he's left there. It was all so organized, so... proper. You hated it. With one quick move, you knocked the papers to the floor, scattering them all over the place.

Your eyes then landed on his bag on the chair behind the front desk. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it and looked through it. There were a few personal items still inside—a notebook, some other papers, and a lighter.

"A smoker, huh?"

You then looked through the notebook. There were random notes, lesson plans, and other things you didn’t even care about, but something about it being his made you want to ruin it. Without hesitating, you ripped out the pages, tearing them apart.

"Not enough..."

You grabbed the lighter, turning it on, before you held it to some of the torn-out pages, watching it burn for a few more seconds before dropping it onto the pile of papers on the floor, while making sure the windows were open to avoid triggering the smoke alarm.

Anything to piss him off.

And just as you were about to leave, your eyes landed on his coffee mug, which he's left behind. That stupid mug he always carried around. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it, throwing it against the wall, and before anyone could catch you, you slipped back out of the room, blending in with the crowd of other college students outside, acting like nothing had happened.

Soon, the break was almost over, but the classroom was still empty. Mr. Dixon walked in first, and the second he saw the mess, his eyes widened—papers torn and burned, the broken coffee mug on the floor... He didn’t say anything; he just stood there, taking it all in.

"Ugh… Really?" He mumbled to himself. "Yer testing me, huh? Alright then."

He walked around the room slowly, closing the open windows and getting rid of the chaos you'd left behind.

"Ya want my attention?" He said quietly, almost like he was talking to you even though you weren’t there. "Ya sure as hell got it."

He should’ve been pissed, but there was something that made him more curious than angry.

Now, he quickly straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. He watched the door, waiting for you to walk back in, knowing full well what you’d done.

The college students soon began walking back into the room, and you were one of the last to come in, casually late, throwing yourself into your chair while your eyes looked to Mr. Dixon, standing at the front, but... with no hint of anger.

His eyes soon met yours for a second—just long enough to make your heart race—but then he looked away again.

"Alright," he began, "we’re gonna continue with something different now."

He walked to the front of his desk, grabbing a stack of books he'd brought with him to the classroom—Divided Loyalties. He held one up, flipping through the pages and then passing them out. As you grabbed your copy, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. American Revolution? Really?

"This play's 'bout a family torn apart by their opposing views," he explained, walking slowly in front of the board. "Patriots, loyalists, people choosing sides. The family in this play has to decide where their loyalty lies—what side of history they wanna be on. Some of 'em follow, others... they go with what’s expected. Either way, their choices split 'em apart."

He didn’t say it outright, but you felt it. He picked this damn play on purpose.

You tapped your fingers on your copy of the book, half-listening to him, half-lost in your thoughts. It was like he was waiting for you to make a move. But what move exactly?

"The point of this," he said, moving around again, "is that sometimes we get pulled in two directions. Loyalties get tested. But what matters is whether or not ya own yer choices."

That last line felt like it was meant just for you. There it was again—that feeling. Unspoken, electric. Like you both knew exactly what was happening between the two of you, but neither of you wanted to admit it.

He stepped away, continuing with his explanation about the play.

"Ya know," he continued, leaning back against his desk, arms crossed again. "A lotta people thought on either side they were just troublemakers. Pissin' off each other, causin' problems... all 'cause they couldn’t keep their mouths shut." His eyes looked to yours again, almost like a challenge.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on the book, but his voice, his presence—it was all too distracting somehow. He knew exactly what he was doing. And it was working.

One of the students sitting a couple of rows over raised their hand. "Mr. Dixon, did you ever have to deal with that? Like, divided loyalties? You seem like you know what that feels like."

He paused, smirking a bit, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he was looking almost amused. "What makes ya say that?"

The student shrugged. "I dunno, just the way you talk about it. It’s like you’ve been through some stuff and things yourself."

"Let’s just say I’ve seen my share of... divided loyalties." He glanced at the board. "But that ain't the point of the lesson."

Another student chimed in. "What did you do before teaching, anyway? You weren’t always here. You don’t seem like... a regular teacher."

He laughed, shaking his head slightly. "That’s because I’m not. Jus' a substitute, fillin' in until I finish my graduate program. I’m workin' toward my Master’s in Education. Right now, I'm here until the regular prof returns. Ya don’t have to worry; I ain't stickin' 'round forever."

Your curiosity was growing, though you’d never admit it. He didn’t fit the type of a normal professor at all, and now it was obvious why. He wasn’t one. Well… Not really.

"Now, back to the lesson," he continued. "Troublemakers…" He said the word slowly, like he was testing it out. "Sometimes, trouble’s what shakes things up. Forces people to finally pay attention."

Your heart was racing faster and faster. He was toying with you, and you knew it. He was playing a game, and you hated how much it was getting under your skin. But part of you... part of you liked it. The push, the pull, the challenge between the two of you. He wasn’t like the other teachers who'd have scolded you by now. No, he was letting you come at him, daring you to make your next move and to fuck up.

And you couldn’t help but play along.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms with a bored look on your face. "It's just another pointless play to rot our brains with bullshit that we don't even need for our future."

He gave you a quick glare, but he was still rather unimpressed with your attitude. "If ya think it’s pointless, maybe ya ain't puttin' enough effort into understanding it."

"Effort?" You snorted and smirked. "The only effort I see is you trying to make us suffer with bullshit no one even gives a fuck about."

He narrowed his eyes at you, but he was still in control. "Perhaps if ya paid more attention, ya’d understand why this bullshit is still relevant."

"Relevant? Don’t make me shit myself," you snapped back, now leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk.

The room was quiet, all eyes looking between you and Mr. Dixon, but no one else dared to say anything.

Daryl sighed, clearly fed up somewhere deep inside. "That’s quite a way to talk to a teacher."

"Yeah? But you aren't a real teacher, nor will you ever become a professor, so what are you going to do about it?" You shot back. "Get me suspended? From college? As if any prof would even do that! Or how about you give me detention? Oh wait, you’re already doing that with your shitty lessons."

He stepped closer to you, smirking as well. "Watch ya damn mouth an' shut it."

"Or what?" You taunted. "Are you going to make me?"

His eyes were burning into yours, and for a moment, it felt like there was something else there in them—something else than simple irritation and annoyance.

"Is that what ya want?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets. "For me to give ya what yer askin' for?"

"Oh, please! Like that’s going to make any difference!" You laughed back at him, waving one hand in dismissal.

"Yer testing my patience," he answered, his voice still calm. "And yer 'bout to find out how far I’m willin' to go to get ya suspended, if that's what ya really want. Or maybe expelled. Even if this is college."

The room was dead silent, the other students watching with wide eyes and whispering to each other. But you didn’t care.

"Expelled, huh? Those are some serious words for someone who’s barely even qualified to be teaching," you smiled.

Daryl didn't respond immediately; he just stared at you with that still calm expression. Like he was holding back.

Finally, he took a step back. "Ya think this is a joke?"

You shrugged, yawning and smirking at him. "Well, I’m not exactly learning anything here, so yeah, it really is kinda funny."

But the smirk on your face faded the second he slammed his hands down loudly on your desk, making you jump.

"Enough!" He said, his voice only a growl.

You opened your mouth to snap back once more, but he cut you off before you could even speak.

"Detention," he continued. "After school. We’ll see how ya will act when there’s no one else 'round to laugh.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, trying to seem unimpressed. "Fine. But I’m not scared of you, Dixon."

He walked back to the front desk, giving you one final look. "Ya will be."

The bell rang soon enough, and everyone else went to walk out of the room. You stood up slowly as well, watching Daryl write notes down on a paper at his desk like nothing had happened.

But that last glare? That look in his eyes? You couldn't think about anything else as the hours passed.

And now you had detention with him. Alone.

Detention had seemed more appealing than getting suspended or expelled, of course, especially from college by a substitute teacher who still didn't graduate himself yet, but it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped for in one way or another. Mr. Dixon had made it clear you’d be staying after the lessons, and now here you were, sitting at the front of the room, waiting for him to show up.

The minutes ticked by until Mr. Dixon walked in, his face looking as neutral as ever.

"Well, well, well," he started as he stood near the door, closing it slowly. "I didn't think I'd actually be seein' ya here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But here we are."

"Guess I just wanted to make it all a little more exciting for myself," you shot back.

He stepped closer, not invading your personal space but close enough. "Excitin', huh? Or just plain stupid?"

"Depends on who you ask," you replied, crossing your arms. "What’s next, more boring lectures? Another dumb play?"

"Maybe... or maybe I’ll find another way to keep your attention," he said, taking another step closer.

You smirked, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right. As if you could keep me interested. You don’t scare me, Dixon; I've said it before, and I'll always say it again. Why? Wanna try me? I dare you to try."

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, the move sending adrenaline straight through your body in an instant. "Careful what ya wish for."

His eyes moved down to your lips, and for a short moment, you thought he might actually kiss you. But as fast as that thought came into your mind, you quickly pushed it away again.

"Maybe ya wanna find out how far I’ll go to teach ya a lesson," he challenged, his breath smelling like cigarettes.

"Maybe I do," you replied. "Or maybe I don't."

He let go of your wrist and walked back to the front desk, but the distance between you still felt nonexistent.

"And I don't care," he answered, setting the book from all those hours before down on the desk. "Yer going to reread Divided Loyalties again. I want ya to pay close attention this time. Maybe ya will finally learn, or at least shut up."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. "Like learning how to deal with your bullshit?"

He ignored the comment. "Start readin'. I’ll be gradin' some papers in the meantime."

You shrugged, picking up the book. But as you looked through the pages, an idea started forming in your mind. If Mr. Dixon wanted you to take this seriously, you were going to make it interesting—by your own rules.

You looked over at him, already busy with his grading. Perfect. You began to read aloud, but not in the way he might have hoped, interpreting the text in your own way and playing around with the words.

"Forsooth, thou hast a long and sturdy lance," you read, your voice now louder on purpose. "I’d wager it could penetrate any barrier with ease."

His head moved up and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, choosing to let you continue.

You pressed on as you read. "Verily, thy bedchamber is most inviting. I am most eager to partake in its pleasures."

You leaned back in your chair, watching him closely as you continued. "Our loyalty lies not just in our words, but in the way we... entertain each other behind closed doors."

His eyes looked at you again, and you could see the struggle on his face to keep his calm. It was clear you were getting under his skin, and you loved it.

You let out a rather quiet laugh, closing the book and stretching yourself. "You know, Mr. Dixon, I think I’m starting to understand the ‘divided loyalties’ part. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay loyal to something when there are so many... distractions."

Daryl raised an eyebrow with a small yet almost unnoticable smirk. "Okay, enough," he said. "Let me tell ya somethin'. In this room, I'm in charge. Ya will do as I say as long as I am yer teacher."

"Fine," you answered him through clenched teeth, glaring at him. "But let me tell you something as well, Dixon. In this room, I'm not going to just sit here and do shit! And I want something in return. Deal?"

Daryl leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. "And what exactly would that be?" He asked, his blue eyes looking at you with a frown.

"I want..." Your voice trailed off as you tried to find the right words. "I want... you," you finally said, the words surprising even yourself.

Daryl just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "If ya wanna play that kinda game, then I'll play along. But only if ya agree to my terms."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart racing in your chest. This just got too real, even for your taste, but what were you expecting? You didn't know. But part of you wanted this as much as you tried to deny it. "Wait… What? What terms exactly? What…"

"First, this stays between us. No one can know about our... arrangement. Second, ya will do whatever I say, both in and outta this room. And third, ya will keep up with yer damn work from now on and calm down with yer shitty behavior."

You nodded slowly, feeling your pulse racing at the thought of what you're about to agree to. "Fine," you answered. "I accept your terms."

Daryl then moved towards you again. "Good," he said, reaching out to cup your chin with his hand. Then it happened. He leaned in closer once more. Your breathing stopped for a moment as his lips brushed against yours, teasing you with a hint of a kiss.

"Dixon," you breathed, half a protest and half a plea. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Shut up," he murmured against your lips before kissing them fully, his hands framing your face.

The kiss was intoxicating—all heat and urgency. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the world around you fade away while tasting nicotine on your tongue… and you wanted more.

"Yer gonna do everythin' I tell ya to do," he mumbled, his lips brushing lightly against your ear after he broke the kiss. "And if ya disobey me, there will be consequences. But I think ya know that by now, don't ya?"

You gasped as one of his hands moved away from your chin, along the side of your neck, before slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, grabbing it, and pulling you out of the chair toward the front desk.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling yourself already getting wetter with every passing second. "I know and I understand."

Daryl's grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and you let out a small moan. "Good," he said, smirking a little. "Now, ya better be gettin' down on yer knees."

You hesitated for just a moment before slowly sinking down onto the floor of the room, watching as Daryl undid the button of his pants. "Take it out," he commanded.

You reached out with trembling hands, fumbling around as you pulled his thick, hard cock out.

"Now, put it in yer mouth," Daryl said. "And don't ya dare bite down on it."

You smirked and leaned forward, wrapping your lips around the head of Daryl's cock and sucking gently while looking up at him. He let out a groan, his fingers holding your head and playing with your hair as he began to guide you and move his hips.

"That's it," he murmured. "Jus' like that. Suck it harder. Show me how much ya wanna be good again."

You obeyed his command, applying more pressure with your lips as you worked your way further down his swelling shaft. His breathing got more uneven, and you could tell just how much he was enjoying this already.

"Yeah, jus' like that," he said breathlessly, his hips beginning to thrust forward a little harder. "Oh fuck, yer so good at this."

You felt yourself getting even more turned on by his words and reached down between your legs, sliding your fingers inside your pants and beneath your panties, stroking gently at your swollen, aching clit.

Daryl must've sensed the change in your behavior because he suddenly pulled away from you, his cock slipping out from between your lips. "That's enough for now."

He reached down, helping you to your feet before leading you over towards the desk at the front of the room. He bent you over it, your tits and stomach pressed against the surface.

"Now, get those pants off and spread yer legs for me," he said. "I wanna see how wet ya are."

You obeyed his command again, parting your legs as wide as they'd go after pulling down your pants and panties. Daryl let out a growl as he took in the sight of your wet pussy, his fingers sliding over your wet folds.

"Oh shit, jus' look at how fuckin' wet ya are," he mumbled. "Ya really wan' it, don't ya? Since when, huh?"

You let out a gasp as Daryl's fingers found your clit. "Who knows?" You moaned quietly. "Maybe I did want you to fuck me all along."

Daryl didn't respond right away; instead, he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Good t'know," he finally said. "First, I wanna taste ya. I wanna feel that sweet lil' pussy against my tongue. But don't ya worry. I promise it'll be worth the risk."

With that, Daryl got onto his knees, with his head between your legs, his tongue moving out to make contact with your swollen, aching clit from behind, licking it and sucking at your folds, his tongue moving slowly on purpose.

"Oh fuck, Dixon," you moaned quietly again, your legs starting to tremble a little. "Right there. Yes..."

"Fuck, ya look so sexy like this," Daryl said and kept licking and sucking before sliding two fingers deep inside to pump them in and out of you a few times. "Ya taste so fuckin' good," he continued. "Could eat ya out all day an' night. But I wanna feel ya cum all over my cock next. Hell, I love how yer pussy looks when 's all wet an' ready for me," he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of you again.

You gasped softly, your hips bucking back, trying to meet his hand and face once more. "Hell, just... I need more," you pleaded, your voice shaking while you tried not to tremble too hard.

"Jus' wanted to make sure that yer wet an' ready for me 'fore I give ya what ya want," he said, gripping and stroking his hard, leaking cock.

"Dixon," you begged with a whimper. "Just fuck me already, okay?"

Daryl smirked, clearly unable to resist your begging any longer. "Alright, sweetheart," he answered, positioning himself between your legs before slowly pushing his cock inside you from behind. "I'm gonna make ya feel so fuckin' good, girl."

You let out a gasp again as his cock pressed up against your dripping wet pussy, tormenting you with the tip for several long moments, then sliding the thick, hard shaft of it back and forth over your wet folds, before he filled you up completely, his thickness stretching your pussy walls deliciously. "Jus' take it. Take every single inch of my cock deep inside ya."

You obliged eagerly, pushing back and pulling him even deeper inside you with each passing thrust, trying not to groan out loud at the feeling of being stretched and stuffed so deeply.

"Oh fuck, ya feel so damn good," he said, his fingers digging into your hips as he started to pound away at your pussy with a little bit more force. "Shit, I could fuck ya all the damn time an' never get tired of it."

"Oh, fuck yes!" You groaned in response as Daryl continued to thrust in and out of you.

As he soon fucked you harder and deeper, you could feel your orgasm building up inside you, threatening you to make you scream out loud.

"I'm so fucking close already," you panted as you held onto the edges of the front desk for dear life. "Please... don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

"Oh shit," you moaned and whimpered as he continued to fuck you. "Harder, please, harder."

And Daryl didn't disappoint you. He fucked you hard, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy in quick, rapid thrusts.

"Ya wanted this, didn't ya?" He growled out. "Ya wanted me to fuck ya like this."

You nodded eagerly. "Yeah, shit, I did… I do!"

"Ain't gonna stop until I've made ya cum all over my cock, sweetheart," he said, increasing the speed, which immediately brought you to the edge like you've never experienced before.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" You whimpered, your entire body tensing up, and just as you thought, your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb, your pussy clenching around him, gripping his cock as if not wanting to let go. But Daryl didn't stop, even after you've finished.

And just as you were coming down from your orgasm, he suddenly pulled out, his breathing ragged. "I’m 'bout to cum," he groaned, wanting to finish himself off, and started to stroke his cock, ready to let go, but then you acted on instinct. You couldn't just let him finish without you, not like this.

Quickly, you dropped to your knees and took his cock back into your mouth, sucking him hard just as he began to cum, brushing your teeth ever so lightly over the throbbing shaft. Daryl let out a deep moan, surprise and shock written all over his face as he found himself clearly unable to resist.

You sucked his cock hard, moving your tongue around the tip before taking him as deep as you could. His hands immediately found your hair, urging you on, and you responded by increasing the pressure of your lips. "Oh fuck, jus' like that," he groaned, losing himself in the feeling of your mouth.

"Jus' a lil' more," he urged, his voice trembling, but you wanted to draw it out. You picked up your pace, pulling back fast just to tease him before taking him deep into your mouth again. You could feel his cock throb and pulse against your tongue, and you knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

Finally, he lost it. "I can’t—oh fuck!" He tried to keep his groans quiet as he began to cum, his warm load filling your mouth as you swallowed down every drop, refusing to simply let him cum all over you like he'd wanted to.

Once he was finished, you pulled away, but not before licking his shaft from the base to the tip once more and looking up at him with a smirk.

"Shit, ya really are one hell of a distraction," he mumbled, catching his breath and slipping his cock back into his pants with trembling hands.

You stood up, pulling your clothes back on as you caught Daryl’s eye. He suddenly seemed different now—annoyed, maybe? But you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

Daryl cleared his throat, straightening up and sitting down on the desk with a serious look on his slightly red face, while also trying to adjust his still half-hard cock in his pants. "This was a one-time thing. Got it?"

"Sure, just a one-time thing, Mr. Dixon," you replied innocently, but you couldn’t resist adding, "I mean, it’s not like I’ll ever forget a one-time lesson like this while having something as ridiculous as detention... but I bet reading Divided Loyalties won't be a one-time thing, isn't that right?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Yer such a damn troublemaker." Daryl shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as if he could shield himself.

You sat down on the edge of the front desk as well, pushing your luck further. "Maybe I really am. How else could I have gotten you to break the rules?" You bit your lip, watching the way his jaw tightened.

"Ain't 'bout that. Ya really need to get yer shit together, or I’ll have to start disciplinin' ya for real," he warned, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, showing you he was still fighting with the thoughts about what you both just did.

You couldn’t help but laugh all over again, rolling your eyes playfully. "You disciplining me? That’d just make me want to misbehave more. Besides, who would ever believe you? The hot substitute who gives other collegians detention and an extra special lesson? Sounds like something you only find in certain writings, if you ask me. So, don't shit your pants about it."

"This ain't a joke. I may not be a real teacher yet, but I have to follow the damn rules."

"Sure, but isn’t it fun to break the rules once in a while?" You asked to provoke him and leaned in. "Let’s be honest, Dixon. This was way more exciting than any discussion about Divided Loyalties."

His breath hitched, and for a short moment you could see the real man beneath again. But then he straightened up, shoving any emotions aside. "Get outta here. We’re done now."

"Sure… We’ll see about that." You grabbed your bag, trying to hold back a smile as you turned to leave. But just before closing the door, you glanced back over your shoulder at him. "Do not be fooled; I am but a mere troublemaker in thy class, yet my mischief will find thee again—so prepare thyself."

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loving-barnes · 7 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - ONE OF US

A/N: CHAPTER ELEVEN is here! I will continue the story. I don't think I will rewrite it. I just needed to put out something and now, I can move forward and start some drama. Not now. Not in this chapter.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided to not give any warnings. Please remember this story is 18+.

Summary: Y/N got an offer to become a member of the X-men.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for a mature audience. MINORS DNI!

Words: 3000+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Ten

LOGAN HOWLETT - ONE OF US

The youngest students fell in love with their new English teacher. They wanted her attention all day, every day, which didn’t sit well with Logan. He couldn’t steal a quick chat with her in the hallway between classes, or a secret kiss while no one was watching. Before he had a chance, a kid or two would take Y/N’s hand, taking her away from Logan. In a blink of an eye, she’d be gone.

Y/N wasn’t blind. She saw how his nostrils flared when a student got her away from him. She sensed the disappointment when he couldn’t get his hands on her. Also, they wanted to be careful about their relationship - or whatever this was. Maybe people already knew about them. Suspicions were raised long before they became a thing.

“Let’s keep this between us for now,” Y/N suggested after their first passionate night together.

They were lying on the bed in her room, limbs tangled. Her fingers were drawing patterns on his naked chest as she was listening to his beating heart. Logan’s body was warm. All she wanted to do was inhale his scent all day and night. Hell, all she wanted was to lick his abs, but that was just her secret fantasy.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t want to jinx it,” she whispered. “Something good is happening and I fear I will lose it. I hope you understand.”

Logan pressed a kiss to the top of her head, humming. To her surprise, he agreed. “We don’t owe anyone any explanation,” he said. “But I agree. We should keep this between us for now. To see how things will go.”

“I think Storm knows,” Y/N said with a smile. “She was teasing me about it for some time.”

Logan chuckled. “Yeah, same with Rogue. She was getting on my nerves. Always teasin’ and shit.”

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, she always gave me the damn eyes - that look to nudge me to do something.”

After another school day, the students spend their time outside in the sun. Even though it was autumn, that day was surprisingly warm and sunny. No one would have known Halloween was only a few days away.

Logan was standing at the basketball court, talking to Remy. His arms crossed over his chest while his eyes stared into the distance. Of course, he was looking at Y/N who hung out with some of the youngest students. She had her body hanging from a tree, upside down, while another child did the same. They laughed and talked and the kids around seemed happy. Damn, she was good with them.

She was fearless, caring and filled with something he couldn’t describe. He swore he would never let anyone close to him again, and here she was, getting to his heart without even trying. Was it meant to be? Where the fuck was his brain going with this? Since when did he start to believe in this shit?

“Are you even listening, mon ami?” he heard Remy’s annoyed voice. Before the man could reply, Remy noticed. “Ah, the new girl,” he laughed. “She seems nice. Don’t you think?”

Logan squinted. Y/N was no longer the ‘new girl’. “What’s your point?”

“It’s just…” he thought about his next words. He voiced them carefully. “What if Scott is right about her?”

Logan was only a second away from punching him in the face. “What the fuck do you mean, Gambit?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “She could be a danger to us and the kids. I just thought about what Scott said about her, you know? I know she saved the school. But Scott is the second hand in command,” he said. “I trust his instincts.”

Logan’s fist clenched tighter. “Just because you trust his fucking instincts, you think he’s right? Get a life, Remy,” he spat at him and stomped away.

“Come on man, I’m sorry,” Remy called after Logan and ran to him. “I only said it to see your reaction,” he laughed. “I see how you eye the girl. I knew these words would piss you off. You must really like her.”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“It’s very romantic, mon ami,” Remy continued. “You saved her, brought her here. Then you trained her and voilá, feelings were developed.” But he didn’t stop there. “I’ve noticed you changed your wild hairstyle, Logan. Your hair is more fluffy. You look like Prince Charming.”

That was it for the Wolverine. He reached for Remy’s shoulder and brought him down on the hard ground. Everyone’s attention was on them. “Keep your damn mouth shut, Gambit,” Logan growled. “I have no idea whatcha talking about, but you as hell are getting on my nerves.”

“So, it’s true,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

A hand grabbed Logan’s shoulder and pushed him back. “Hey, woah big guy,” said Y/N. “What’s going on? Why so violent all of a sudden?”

“He’s constantly getting on my nerves,” he huffed and stepped away from Remy.

Y/N gave Remy a hand and helped him up on his feet. “Thank you, chére,” he smiled at her.

A loud whistle echoed around the basketball court. Everyone turned their heads to the sound, noticing Rogue and Storm standing at the entrance door. “Now that we have your attention,” Rogue laughed. “The Professor wants to talk,” she continued. “He wants us to meet at the Danger room, now.” Her finger pointed at Logan, Remy and Y/N.

“Behave,” Y/N turned to the students, threatening them with a finger.

Logan shook his head. “You already have them wrapped around your finger, eh?”

Remy had to laugh. The more he watched Logan talk to Y/N, the more he found it amusing.

When they approached the two women, Rogue threatened Logan with a finger. “Touch my man one more time, and I will punch you in your face. I know you can heal in a matter of seconds, but you know damn well how painful my fist can be.”

Y/N bit her lower lip not to laugh at them. When she approached Storm, she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Together they walked to the Danger room.

. . .

“This is the stupidest idea ever.”

Everyone was in the Danger room, ready to watch how powerful Y/N’s force field was. Charles suggested using Scott’s laser eyes to see if her power would withstand it. It was met with scepticism and criticism from both Y/N and Scott. Logan wasn’t fond of the idea but kept his mouth shut. He was worried Scott would hurt Y/N intentionally.

Neither of them wanted to do it. They kept bickering, trying to convince Charles to let go. Unfortunately for them, he insisted. Now, both of them were standing on the other side of the room, ready to give the rest of the people a show.

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Y/N. “Finally, we agree on something,” she grinned. “I was able to absorb a missile like two minutes ago,” Y/N argued. “I don’t see a point in doing this.”

Scott was standing with hands in his pockets, barely moving. “Are you afraid?” he smiled at her. He was mocking her.

“Are you?” she replied with a smirk.

They moved through the danger room, each taking a place on the other side. They were far enough from the spectators and there was a giant gap between them.

Her eyes shifted to the people standing at the entrance. Logan had his hands crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on her. Storm and Jean were leaning against the nearest wall, watching the upcoming show. Charles was in the wheelchair by Logan’s side. Remy held Rogue’s waist, head resting on her shoulder. The rest of the team had to attend classes and teach.

Y/N took a deep breath, closed her eyes and wrapped herself in a force field. She didn’t need her hands to do it. She could do it with her mind. Since she came to the school, she learnt more about it, how to control it and over time, it strengthened. When Y/N opened her eyes, they were all staring at her. It seemed everyone was impressed. Logan had a tiny smile on his lips. Was he proud? She hoped so.

“I thought she needed to use her hands. When did that happen?” Storm asked Logan and Charles.

“During the attack,” Logan replied. “She was able to create multiple of them under pressure and stress. That’s when she made one using her mind. She had us both under them. And I was nowhere near her.”

“Fascinating,” Charles said with a smile. “Tense and stressful situations can help speed up developing the power. She’s a fast learner.”

“What did I miss?” Peter appeared next to them out of nowhere, eyes fixated on Y/N. “Damn, that thing is cool.”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” Storm asked.

Peter made a face. “Please, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. But no, I don’t. Have I seen her make it? Maybe I did. I don’t know.”

“Your mouth’s running miles, Speedy. Shut up,” Logan glared at him.

Y/N concentrated. She cleared her mind, trying to think about nothing but the task. Her eyes glared at Scott, watching as he set the device on his eyes and blasted a laser at her. When it hit the forcefield, the laser got absorbed into it. She felt energy pulses running through her body. It wasn’t pleasant. Y/N struggled to keep it up. She had to admit that Scott had a powerful mutation.

“God fucking dammit,” she cursed and lifted her hands in the air, trying to hold the shield up. She could feel her energy draining fast. A growl escaped her throat. A bomb would already be done. Scott’s lasers kept on going with the same intensity. She cursed a few more times.

Y/N wouldn’t give up. She pushed through.

Scott stopped. The laser was gone. He didn’t lose his composure. A grin appeared on his face. “Impressive,” he commented. “Although, I didn’t go full power on you. You are not strong enough.”

Y/N’s arms fell next to her body. The force field disappeared as she fell on her knees, breathing heavily. “Go fuck yourself,” she cursed. There was a big difference between the laser and the explosion. Their energy was incomparable. “Shit,” she mumbled, her head spinning. Slowly, she lay down on the ground, trying to ground herself.

The sounds that echoed around her, from the people who were present, became muffled. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling which seemed to be kilometres away.

“Already napping, princess?” she heard Logan’s voice.

Y/N raised her middle finger in the air. It was meant for Logan. “It was a stupid idea,” she huffed. “Thanks, Scott. It was fun,” she yelled.

“Any time,” Scott laughed. The man moved to the group. “Is her forcefield strong? Yes. But, like I said, she’s weak. She was able to hold it for less than a minute. That’s not enough. She needs to train more, challenge herself.”

“She’s not weak,” said Logan. “You should have seen what happened when the school was under attack. You wouldn’t believe your cyclop eye.”

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, not listening to the conversation at the entrance. Her heart was beating fast. The energy flowing inside her was strong, pulsing. She needed to calm down. Her hands rested on top of her raising chest. Thinking back, a few months ago, she wouldn’t be able to do any of this. Now, she’s a different person - a different mutant. Who knows what would have happened to her if she’d remained in the facility? What if she never tried to escape? What if…

“Hey.” Her eyes moved to the side, finding Logan standing above her. “You okay?” He asked.

“I’m just trying to catch my breath,” she grimaced. “My whole body is vibrating.”

Logan laughed. “Come on, get your ass up, princess,” he reached a hand to her. She grabbed it and he lifted her on her feet. “Are you sure you are okay? You don’t seem like it.”

Y/N looked at the group of people in front of her. “When did Charles get the ability to multiply? I see two of them… and Storm… and everyone.”

“Jesus Christ, woman,” Logan huffed. “Don’t say you are fine when you are not.” He set his arm for her to grab on. He walked her to the rest of the people.

Rogue chuckled. “Adorable,” she commented. “You really are a knight in shining armour.” She received one deadly glare from him.

“You okay?” Jean was concerned.

“Yeah, I just need a longer minute,” said Y/N.

“There is something we have for you, Y/N,” said Charles. “Come to the lab, please.” He wheeled out from the Danger room as the rest followed him.

Rogue was able to steal Y/N from Logan again, giving him a big innocent smile as she did so. “Come on, sugar, we have something special for you.”

“Hey, don’t spoil it,” Storm glared at her.

“Oh, no,” Y/N sighed. “I’m not fond of surprises,” she whispered.

“You’re gonna love this one,” Rogue sang excitedly.

The group went inside the lab, everyone taking their place. Hank went to a metal-like wardrobe. With a click of a button, he opened it and reached for something that looked like a piece of clothing. He had a smile on his face.

“Let’s make this simple,” Charles turned in his wheelchair, facing Y/N. “You’ve made a fantastic profess with your ability. It’s fascinating to watch your journey with us. The kids have bonded well with you, accepting you as their new teacher. You saved the school and the students, for which I am grateful. I think it’s only fair to ask you if you’d like to become an official member of the X-men.”

Her mouth opened wide, not believing this was happening. Was this actually happening? “A-are you serious?”

“Yes!” Jean nodded. “You’d be an excellent addition to the team. You already are.”

Y/N’s eyes checked each and every member. They were all staring at her, waiting for her to say something. And Logan had a smirk on his face, eyes digging into hers. He wanted to know her answer.

She smiled at them. “Holy shit, it’s like a proposal,” she laughed. “Yes, of course.”

Hank was the first to approach her as Rogue clapped her hands. He handed her a custom-made black uniform. He patted her shoulder. It felt unreal.

A few months ago, she was beaten and bruised, not capable of using her power. Logan found her which was a miracle moment. Now, they wanted her to become a member of the X-men. They trusted her, except Scott. Fuck him.

“Wonderful,” Charles nodded. “I’m glad your answer was positive. I would like to talk to you more about this tomorrow morning. Since the formalities are done, everyone should return to their classes.”

It felt surreal. Was she finally fitting somewhere? A tiny smile played on her lips as Y/N kept scanning the new suit with her eyes, noticing every detail. The yellow stripes were a perfect combination to the all-black leather outfit.

One by one, they left the lab, leaving Y/N standing there with her thoughts. They understood she’d want to process this alone for a moment. Logan noticed she didn’t move, eyes glued to the piece of clothing. His head turned to the rest of the team to see if they were paying attention while walking to the elevator. Quickly, he walked back to Y/N.

He approached her slowly and put both hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”

Her eyes lifted, all glassy and sparkling. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she quickly nodded, smiling. “I’m more than fine. I’m thrilled.”

“Good,” he smiled at her.

She eyed him carefully. “You have a very handsome smile, have I told you that?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Uh, that’s a first.” He leaned closer to her. When she raised her head, his lips pressed onto hers in a simple kiss. “You flatter me, princess.”

“Someone has to. I can’t make fun of you, tease you all the damn time.”

Logan turned his head to the door, then back at her. “Ya know what, darlin’? Let’s go out tonight. Just the two of us.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “Oh? You wanna take me on a date?”

He hummed. “Imma take you somewhere where we can be alone for more than five fucking minutes. I’m so fucking angry that those damn kids steal you away from me whenever I try to reach out for you.”

She laughed at that. “I knew you were not fond of that. Logan, they are just kids. So, let’s go out, just the two of us. Let’s hope no one will want to tag with us.”

“You want me all to yourself, eh?”

Y/N kissed him again. “Fuck yes,” she said. “Living here has been amazing. I adore everyone. But, I want to have some alone time with you. When we are alone, what do we do?”

“Fuck,” he said.

“Exactly. We fuck, we talk for five minutes and we fall asleep,” she snorted.

Logan pressed another kiss to her lips - loving, gentle. “I’ll wait for you in the garage at eight. Oh, and, wear something warm. It’s gonna get cold.”

She gasped. “Are you taking me on your bike?”

“Only if you promise me not to fucking fall off it like the first time I took you on it,” he laughed.

“Hey! I was wounded, barely conscious. Hell, I went unconscious. Plus, I didn’t even know you. Not my fault,” she frowned at his teasing. She clutched the suit in her hand while the other punched his shoulder.

Logan laughed at that attempt. “Okay, okay, I get your point, darlin’. I’m just messin’ with ya.”

“I know,” she smiled.

Another kiss happened. “Eight o’clock. Just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett fanfiction #A touch of Hope #Marvel fanfiction #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader

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bked0n-lorazepam · 8 months ago

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"Prom Gone Wrong" p. hockstetter Oneshot

---------------->

“I’m not showing too much cleavage, am I?” I ask my friend Cassy, pulling up on the silky red dress I was wearing to cover my breasts. It was prom day, the same day I was dreading since Ollie asked me to go with him.

Don’t get me wrong, going out in a beautiful dress was my dream since I was a little girl. It was just the fact that I didn’t want to go with Ollie.

He wasn’t my type, and he was known for not actually dancing with girls at prom and taking them in a janitor’s closet to fuck them instead. He’s never piqued my interest, but since nobody else asked me to go, I accepted.

“Honey, you look gorgeous! Let those girls free, the world needs to see how hot you are.” Cassy said before throwing her head back and taking a shot, her favorite thing to do before a party. I nervously smiled at her and fixed my hair before leaving the bathroom.

“Yeah, I just don’t want that creepy English teacher to dress-code me.” I walked to my vanity and sat down on the stool, pulling out a tube of lipgloss from my purse and applying it to my lips.

Cassy shrugged and sat down on my bed, bending over to put her black heels on. “If he looks at you weirdly, I’ll beat his 62 year old ass.”

“Thanks, Cassy.” I roll my eyes and laugh, reaching forward on the vanity to open my jewelry box. When I did, a polaroid of me and an old friend fell out of it, and I picked it up and stared at it.

Me and him used to live in the same neighborhood before I had to move away, and we were the greatest of friends. Sure, he was a bit of an oddball, but it never deterred me from him. We grew apart, though, and went our separate ways throughout highschool. Now that we were both seniors and could attend the senior-only school dance, I had a small amount of hope that he’d ask me. I wasn’t sure why, but I just did.

“All right. I think we’re ready.” Cassy stood up and smoothed out her dark green dress in my full length mirror, and shortly after putting the photo away I did as well. “Let’s go dance.”

–

The DJ was playing Again by Noah Cyrus when we arrived, and the lights in the cafeteria room were red. That seemed to be the theme as Cassy and I walked around trying to find our dates. It took a couple of minutes for her to find West, and she bid me goodbye while interlocking her arm with his.

It was well into the night and I couldn’t find Ollie, and I had accepted the fact that he probably stood me up for another girl. I was leaning against one of the tables that held fruit punch, and I downed the last drops of the drink in my cup before deciding to step away from the ear-damaging crowd.

Making my way out of the cafeteria, I sighed when I walked out of the doors and entered the empty hallway. The sound of all the others were muffled, and the only thing that you could hear were the soft tapping of my heels.

Wandering aimlessly through the quiet highschool, I walked past one of the closets in a darker part of the building. A loud thump against the door and a couple of moans told me all I needed to know, and I scoffed at their lack of decency.

“That’s it, take this big dick!” I stopped in my tracks when I recognized his voice.

Ollie.

Now, I know I had tried to convince myself earlier in the night that he did in fact stand me up, but a part of myself also didn’t quite believe it. I had thought of multiple excuses he could’ve had, and even though this one had the biggest chance, it still hurt.

Was I not good enough? Not pretty enough? I still would’ve turned him down if he asked for sex, but why didn’t he even try?

Spirals of thoughts turned and twisted in my head as I continued walking around the school, except this time I had a place I wanted to go. Me and my old friend used to hang around the place after hours when we were younger, and there was a girls bathroom that was supposed to get renovated decades ago. Of course, the school board never got around to it, so it was a good place to skip and hide away in. It was on the second floor of the school, directly above the cafeteria.

A remix of 180 by Bastián and Glory Box by Portishead seeped into my ears as I opened the door, and it continued to echo around when it closed. It was a larger bathroom than the others, and I walked up to the mirror that took up half of the wall. There were scarce lights, so it was rather dim around the other areas of the room.

I looked at my face and touched up on any makeup that faded, and then took my hair out of the low bun it was in. I played around with my hair, and scratched at my head, softly moaning at the self-massage I was doing.

I froze when I heard the door creak and close, and then I locked eyes with the intruder in the mirror.

“Patrick?” I muttered, spinning around to face him. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt and a black tie, and I made a small note that the same color matched my dress. His hair was slightly tousled, and a stranded curl rested on his forehead.

We both took in the sight of each other before I cleared my throat.

“What are you doing here?” I tilted my head, staring into his green eyes.

“‘Could ask you the same thing.” He stated simply and started a low stride towards me, his eyes roaming over my body once again. It made me feel bare, to be on such a display for him. I remembered how low chested my dress was and pulled it up nervously, and even in the dim lights I could see his smile.

Patrick had always towered over me in height, and he took advantage of it now while circling me. I folded my hands in front of me and played with fingers as he did, waiting for him to be done with his inspection.

“Well, don’t you look pretty.” He stopped in front of me and grinned. It was obvious that I was nervous, even a blind person could see it. I hadn’t talked to him since middle school, and seeing him now intimidated me in a way.

“‘Could say the same thing to you.” Shrugging, I turn around to look at myself in the mirror again.

Patrick huffed out a laugh and stepped behind me, placing his hands on my waist. Being so close to him made my breath hitch, but I couldn’t let him know. I pretended it didn’t affect me and pulled out my lip gloss, reapplying it to my lips. It was red and shimmery, which was one of the reasons I had chosen it out of the many others in my purse. The other reason was that I knew it was his favorite.

When we were in middle school, my mom had bought it for me for my birthday. Patrick and I were hanging out one day, and I had decided to put it on because I thought it was pretty. He of course noticed, and asked me a simple question that led him to be my first kiss.

“Can I try some on?” Patrick whispered in my ear, his thumb rubbing circles on my hip. I froze again, and put the applicator back in the tube. I locked eyes with him again in the mirror, and he kissed at the spot on my neck below my right ear. His soft but chapped lips caused goosebumps to run all over my body, and a warm feeling to form in my stomach.

“Well?” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine, and I turned around and backed away from him. He stepped forward towards me, and the cycle repeated until my back hit the edge of one of the sinks. I swallowed down the lump in my throat that caused me to be silent, but before I could speak, he did instead.

“Jump.” It barely registered in my brain what he wanted me to do, but it clicked when his hands grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the sink. My legs wrapped around his hips, and my arms went around his neck.

I didn’t think before I did, but before I knew it my lips were on his. It was sloppy, hungry, but it fit with how we felt. I grabbed at the hair on the base of his neck and he grabbed at the red fabric of my dress.

We didn’t pull away from each other, but probably for different reasons. I had a thing for Patrick since I’ve known him, and I didn’t want to pull away and have him disappear again.

I didn’t know why he was so frantic like me, though. Maybe he felt the same, or maybe it’s all a heat of the moment kind of thing. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it to end.

Patrick’s hand moved slyly up and down my body, and mine stayed in his hair. I always liked how long it was, it matched his face shape well. And since he hated going to the barber, it worked out for the both of us.

I whimpered when his fingers pinched my thighs, and finally pulled away to breathe while he smiled at my reaction. We both panted and looked at each other, eyes filled to the brim with lust. Patrick licked his swollen lips, tasting the flavor of the gloss.

“Cherry?” He asked with a toothy grin.

I nodded breathlessly, my mouth dryer than a desert. “Your favorite.”

He hummed and pulled me in for another kiss, even more eager than the last. My hands left his hair and roamed down to undo his tie, and I cursed into the kiss when I couldn’t get the knot undone. Patrick snickered and reached his hands up to do it himself, my own hands cupping his face.

When he took the tie off, he pulled my hands away and placed it in them. Confused as to why he was pulling away, I opened my mouth to ask, but stopped immediately.

He kneeled in front of me, mischief flooding his green eyes. Patrick grabbed my legs and spread them, and he kissed at my ankle. He continued his charade of leaving marks all over and up my left leg before switching to the right one.

His hands roamed behind me to pull me closer to the edge of the porcelain sink, and then they moved back down to the insides of my thighs.

They reached up for my underwear, and he didn’t even need to tell me to lift my hips. It was like an automatic response to his touch, one that I couldn’t help. He noticed as well, and swiftly pulled down the damp red fabric and threw it aside.

“You’ve got quite the theme goin’, huh toots?” He laughed and placed a kiss on each of my knees. I ticked my tongue and lightly tapped his side with my red heel, urging him to hurry up.

“I like to match.” I lean back onto the sink and run my fingers through my hair, biting my lip as he shuffles closer to me.

His eyes were trained on mine, and he lifted up my dress, disappearing under the silk. I gasped when he blew air on my groin, and threw my head back when I felt his tongue on me.

Patrick ate like a starved man eating his last meal, not even coming up to take a breath. His hands held my thighs apart so that they didn’t clamp around his head, and all that could be heard throughout the bathroom were my moans and the soft sound of music.

Panting and gasping when he sucked on just the right spot, my fingers went under my dress and tightened themselves around his hair. He groaned into my cunt, and that was what threw me over the edge.

“Patrick, I’m gonna-” He didn’t let me finish my sentence and his thumb on my clit, rubbing it in just the right way to make me scream his name.

He let me ride my high, slowing down a bit, but not stopping. I whined and tried to tug his head away, but he didn’t let up. Finally, after a couple of complaints, he pulled back, leaving a few last licks and standing up.

His face was stained and shiny, and he wiped it away on his sleeve. Embarrassed, I looked away while he did. He took off his blazer, and grabbed my chin. He kissed me once again, and the warm feeling came back shortly. He grasped my hands in his and guided them towards his shirt, and I caught on. I unbuttoned it and he tossed it away from us, ignoring my grumbles of how dirty the floor probably is.

Patrick unbuckled his belt and let it drop, and then unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them down just enough to where he could let his cock out, and once again pulled me closer to him. Wrapping my legs around him and putting my face into his shoulder, he started to align himself with my entrance before I yelped,

“Condom! Use a condom.” I pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, my concerned expression opposite of his unamused one. He rolled his eyes and started rocking himself against me, sliding in and out of my folds.

I moaned loudly and grabbed his shoulder, covering my mouth with my other hand. Patrick smirked and went faster, a knowing look on his face.

“Still want a condom?” He asked, and I shook my head with doubt.

Patrick was smug as he lined himself up again, and his lips caught my whine as he thrusted inside slowly. He kept going until he bottomed out all the way, and he cursed the whole time.

“Fuck. Ease up on me, dollface. You’re real fucking tight.” He groaned, and pulled out almost all the way. I whined and scratched at his back, and he rammed himself back in. The process repeated, and the bathroom was filled with moans and swears once again.

I could feel him twitch inside me, indicating that he was close. I had already come twice around him, and was crying at the overstimulation.

“Patrick, it’s too much.” I cried against his neck.

“I know, fucking hell, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it. Just give me one more, baby.” He reached his hand down and thumbed at my clit, making me fall off the edge once again. The constriction around him made him moan loudly and pull out of me, leaving a mess all over my thighs.

We sat there for a couple minutes, breathing in each other's air. I leaned my head back against the sink’s mirror and stared at him as he stepped away to pick up his tie, wiping away the white liquid on me with it. He tucked himself back into his pants, put his belt on, and the rest of his clothes. He threw the tie into the small, empty trashcan to the left of us and kissed me.

Patrick didn’t pull away until we both couldn’t breathe, and then he stepped away from me, and walked to the door.

“Eleven PM tomorrow, here.” He opened the door and walked out.

Patrick left me alone with my thoughts, and I stayed sitting on the sink for a while longer. Thinking over my night and what he and I were now, I realized that we were still at the school dance, and that I had to find Cassy and drive her home.

#x reader #fem reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #pennywise #stephen king #it #smut #patrick hockstetter smut #patrick hockstetter x reader smut

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moon1833 · 10 months ago

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Arrogance

Warning: smut, female reader, enemies to friends to lovers kinda, hate-fucking, semi-public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, Tsukishima is a bottom and I will die on this hill, female reader, College!Tsukishima

He was mean. Agonizingly rude and arrogant. And to you, you saw that as a competition. You wouldn't call yourself mean, but you defiantly didn't let any of his bullshit slide. You made that abundantly clear at your first meeting. You had know of the blonde boy in your class since you started Karasuno College, but luckily avoided him up until the end of your first year.

"Watch where you're going, shorty. Some of the grownups need to get through." He smirked, barely looking at you as he knocked into you.

He half expected to hear a remark from your pretty mouth, or maybe you'd just roll your eyes and walk away. What he didn't expect, was for you to grab his bicep and shove him into the wall with most of your strength. You weren't trying to hurt him, but you knew it would take a lot to move the third year middle blocker. You were in a bitter mood.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you." You watch him stumble back slightly, eyes wide with shock. His lips part to speak, but you don't wait for him to respond, turning towards your next class.

Tsukishima had never been spoken to like that by a complete stranger. He supposed it was warranted, he wasn't oblivious to how rude he was to others. He just didn't think he'd be able to invoke that reaction from you of all people.

From then on, he made sure to glare at you whenever he got the chance, which happened to be often since you were now in the same class. Tsukishima made it his mission to pester you, and every single time, you put him in his place.

It started an odd relationship between the two of you. Neither of you would call each other friends, but you'd both be lying if you said you didn't seek out the other one, even if it was just to argue.

You sat in class one morning, the seat of the desk uncomfortable as you watched the teacher hand out the graded exams from last week. You didn't need to turn your head to see Tsukishima's eyes narrowed onto you, bouncing his leg with anticipation.

Your teacher places the exam face down on your desk, and you flip it over swiftly, trying not to look too eager. You smirk as your eyes trail to the boy in the row next to you, turning the paper to him so he could read the 100 marked proudly in the right corner of the paper.

You watch his gaze darken, scowling as he turns away from you. You fake coo at his actions, watching his left hand grip the desk until his knuckles turned white.

The teacher handed back Tsukishima's exam last, and you tried to peer at his score to no avail. The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you found yourself chasing after the blonde, curious to see just how many points you beat him by.

"Don't get shy on me now." You say cockily, standing next to his desk and peering down on him.

He glares back up at you, a tinge of embarrassment obvious due to his reddening ears. Even if this was the only expression you ever saw him give you, it satisfied a part of you.

Neither of you notice the rest of the class leave, as well as the teacher.

"How'd you manage cheat this time?" Tsukishima asks, but even he knows it's a weak cover-up.

"Aw, that was almost a retort." You smile.

"Being around idiots lowers my brain cells." He rolls his eyes, trying to slide his exam into his backpack without you seeing the score.

Quickly, you snatch the paper from him, turning around so he can't grab it. Tsukishima lunges, reaching around you, caging you with his arms and pressing your hips against the side of the desk.

You try to relish in the fact that he got a 96, but you can't when he's pressed against you so closely you can feel his breath on your neck.

Caught by surprise, a small sound escapes from your lips, suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Tsukishima stops, unsure if he really just heard the small moan you made or if he was starting to confuse his daydreams with real life. But, one of his hands holding yours behind your back as the other grasped the paper on the desk in front of you was very, very real.

"Oh?" Tsukishima questions, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

When you don't make any efforts to move away, Tsukishima peers his head down by your ear, his lips grazing your skin as he whispers.

"Don't tell me you like this, y/n."

You snap back, pushing him off of you and turning around. You put your hands on his chest, shoving him back while keeping your fists tight around the material of his shirt.

His glasses are crooked slightly, and he stares at you with a hunger in his eyes. And then it hits you.

"Don't tell me you like it when I put you in your place, Tsukishima." Your hands reach higher, now gripping his collar.

You watch the blush creep up Tsukishima's neck, grinning. You're barely inches away, and he takes a step back in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs hit the front of a chair and you're climbing onto his lap before he's even fully sat down.

His hands fly to your waist instantly, steadying you on his thighs. You take his glasses off before trailing your fingers over the curve of his lips, leaning in slowly.

Your lips just graze his, but Tsukishima grasps the back of your head, greedily kissing you. You respond by kissing him back harder, parting your lips and pressing your body even further into him.

You don't miss how he lets out the smallest of whimpers at you grounding your hips against him, feeling him under you. You grin, grinding back and forth to pull more noises from him.

"I'm going to lose control if you keep doing that." Tsukishima admits, sounding short of breath.

"You haven't had an ounce of control since you walked into this classroom." You sneer, kissing down his jaw roughly. "You can stop pretending to fight me."

Tsukishima tilts his head back, hitting the wall softly as he started breathing deeply, feeling as though he could cum from your words alone. It was embarrassing the effect you had on him.

You reach a certain spot on his neck, causing Tsukishima to jerk his. hips up slightly as he sighs.

You wanted to toy with him for as long as you could, but you knew you had limited time. Hurriedly, you tugged at his belt, palming at his dick through his pants.

Tsukishima adjusted himself, unzipping his pants and trailing a hand up your thigh. You lifted your hips up, giving him room as you continued to leave hickies down his collar bone.

His hand was now under your skirt, delicately gripping your waist. The other was rubbing his tip, watching you eye his cock. Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side, sinking down on him.

You knew it was going to hurt with no prep and his size, but you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. You eased down on him, bitting your lip as you bottomed out. Tsukishima buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a moan.

You wrapped your fingers around his hair, tugging him back and forcing him to look at you. Your hand trailed to his throat, tightening slightly but not choking him.

"Be quiet." You whisper, looking at him sharply. Tsukishima's looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his mouth parted. He's on the verge of bliss and he's not hiding it anymore.

After sinking down fully, you crossed your arms, shifting your hips to get used to the feeling. He bucks his hips up, desperate for more.

"Pathetic." You say, moving your hips up and down slowly. His long fingers are digging into your hips, and his eyes are pleading with you.

"If you want something you're going to need to ask for it." You tease.

"Please," Tsukishima has lost all dignity, feeling so pussydrunk he thinks he'd kill to be inside you for a minute more. "need you to use me."

You grab his jaw, peppering kisses on his cheek as you speed your hips up, whispering encouragement in his ear.

Tsukishima let all control slip away from him as his orgasm built, holding you closer by the small of your back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you let him attempt to muffle his sounds in the crook of your neck.

He was trying his best to hold off his orgasm, but between your tits nearly bouncing out of your shirt and the degrading words slipping from your kiss-bitten mouth, he didn't last very long.

A few minutes later you were viciously riding out his orgasm, but pink in the face and suddenly hit with the realization of what you just did.

Panic hit you momentarily, until Tsukishima kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “I’m never going to win an argument against you ever again.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say. “Unless you want to end up like this again.”

“I wasn’t going to stop either way, but I appreciate the encouragement.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #smut #jjk smut #tsukishima fluff

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sturniololoco · 1 year ago

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hi i know you just did a sturniolo little sister fic but could you do one where she gets into a fight at school because someone was talking shit to her about her looks or something and she won the fight or whatever but she was in a lot of trouble and matt picked her up from school then like something sweet with everybody and maybe a little bit more with matt cause matt is like my comfort person ?

Fight

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: blood, fighting, etc.

SLS’s POV

All I remember thinking was I’m about to beat this bitch up.

So that’s what I did.

Usually a wouldn’t let a dumb bitch calling me names bother me. But when she compared me to my famous triplet brothers, then called me names right after?

That set me off.

“I can tell the rest of the family got the good looking genes. Look at her then look at her brothers! No wonder she’s only in three of their YouTube videos!” A girl in the hallway said to a bunch of giggling girls.

I throw my books to the floor and walk over to her, breathing heavy. Most of her friends scurry away, shrieking dramatically, but two stay.

I get right up close to her face, pushing her into the lockers. At this point we had an audience.

“What the fuck is wrong you? You-“ I start to say, but then I’m being smacked with a 610 page biology text book, the corner hitting my eye, while the rest practically breaks my nose.

One of the girls stupid friends tried to help her. I stumbled back, turning away from the girl against the locker to see you hit me. The girl, who was now behind me, frantically ran into a nearby classroom.

“Oh you really shouldn’t have fucking done that.” I say, immediately pouncing on her and taking her to the floor.

She was helpless, trying to slap at my bloody and bruised face. I grabbed her hand and put them behind her back, pushing her head into the floor.

I was about to tell her who the fuck she was messing with, when all of the sudden, arms were around my waist pulling me of the girl.

I look up to see Mr. Howard, my Chemistry teacher, who also happens to be the varsity football coach.

“Get to the office Sturniolo! No detors!” He barked at me, letting me go. I kicked my books while walking down the hallway to the office, yelling,

“She’s the one who fucking started it!” And I stick my middle finger up, not even bothering to look back at the girl, crying on the floor, worried about her skirt that I got my blood on.

“SLS/N, I know you’re a good kid. You’re on the all A’s honor roll, you’ve never gotten detention, and you’ve never been sent here before this. What happened that got you so upset?” My principal asked me as I sat across from him.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled, chewing my nails because I knew how much trouble I was in.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you for three days and call your brother to come pick you up.” He said, giving me a sad but knowing look.

“Fine, but I’d call mat if I was you. He’s the only one who can drive.” I say, picking up my stuff and walking straight out of his office to wait for my brother.

Matt walked in, looking upset and down cast, but when he saw my bloody nose and black eye, his face contorted into a look of complete shock. I didn’t stand up.

He signed me out and quietly thanked the lady at the front desk. He then walked over and needed in front of me. I averted his eyes as I felt the tears stabbing at my own. He must have noticed because he said,

“Hey it’s okay kiddo, we’ll talk later.” He the stood, slung my back pack over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we made our way to the car.

The car ride was pretty quiet, except for my occasional sniffles as the pain from my nose and eye began to set in. I didn’t realize where we were until Matt pulled into the Mcdonalds parking lot and put the car in park.

He got out of the car and rationed me to follow him, as he walked towards the front door. As he held the door open for me, I pulled my hood up, to cover my bloody face.

Matt went up and ordered while I got us a booth all the way in the back, and pulled out my phone.

12 Snapchat notifications and 16 text. All about the fight. I put my phone down and tried to stop the tears threatening to spill, when Matt came back with two chocolate milkshakes and two large fries.

He sat across from me and we began eating, but I still averted eye contact.

“Look at me SLS/N.”

I looked up and he gave me a sad smile.

“you know we have to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with.”

I sighed and began telling him the story. About how the girls at school would always compare me to my brothers and call me ugly names.

“It just gets really hard sometimes when you feel like you have strict expectations to live up to, ya know?” I say, some of my tear slipping to make streaks of blood down my face.

“hey I completely understand. I know what it’s like to be compared to Nick and Chris. It’s the only way people could ever tell us apart!” He says earning a small chuckle from me.

“you just need to learn not to get to fired up about it, and just know that people will be mean, but they don’t know the real you, and how perfect you are. No one compares to you because everyone’s unique. And I am so proud to have you as a sister, and so are Nick and Chris.”

I nod, knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without sobbing.

“And speaking of Nick and Chris, I haven’t told them yet. But If you want, I can talk to them instead of you having to explain everything again. Sound like a plan?” He says.

I nod again, thankful that I wouldn’t have to go through this again.

We pulled into the drive way, and before I opened the car door to go inside, I had to take a deep calming breath, knowing I’ll be walking into a dozen questions.

“Hey, you got this kiddo!” Matt says grabbing and squeezing my hand lightly, before walking up and opening the front door.

As soon as I step foot into the kitchen, Nick is all over me.

“Oh my fuck, SLS/N! What the fuck happened?” He yelled, picking me up and sitting me in the island, then sprinting to the bathroom for a wash cloth.

“I beat a bitch up.” I say plainly, earning a laugh from Matt. Chris comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.

“Damn sis, you look tough!” He says ruffling my hair. I giggle.

“Christopher!” I hear Nick scold as he walks back in the room. Chris puts his hands up in mock defense.

Nick gently wipes most of the blood off my face, the gives me a sock filled with ice to put on my eye and nose, which were now purple.

“Okay, now spill. What the fuck happened?” Nick says. I look at Matt, who quickly stands from the couch and says,

“Actually Nick, come in here, I need to talk to you and Chris for a sec. Why don’t you go hop in the shower bud.” Mat says.

I give him a quiet okay and hop off the counter and head to the bathroom, taking my ice-sock with me.

Getting all that blood off my face and out of my hair felt so good, no matter how dark blue, green, and purple my nose was. I threw on a pair of sweats and one of Chris’s Fresh Love hoodies, before walking down stairs and to the living room.

Matt, Nick, and Chris were all sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch a show.

Matt motions me over to sit with him, so I grab a new sock of ice, a blanket from the basket and snuggle up with him.

“I think I could get used to this for the next three days.” I joke, snuggling close into Matt’s chest. He chuckles and rubs my back comfortably.

I slowly feel myself driving off, due to the long days events, but not before I hear my brother let out a soft,

“I love you kiddo.”

I hope this is what you were asking for! ❤️

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #Sturniolo sister

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mayajadewrites · 9 months ago

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could've been you: aizawa x reader x hawks

summary: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold.

CHAPTER TWO

WARNING: some light smut in this chapter. enjoy :)

You stop in your tracks. The tall, dark haired, tired looking man that altered your life forever is standing outside of your door. You were mentally preparing yourself to see him tomorrow, not today.

"Sup Eraser!" Keigo walked up to Eraserhead and attempted to give him a fist bump.

Of course, Eraser just looked away and gave a nod instead. "You know her?"

"Yeah, we met today! We all had lunch. You should've came, it was a nice time. I was just walking her back to her room. You know, chivalry isn't dead."

"Wasn't invited." Eraserhead murmured. "Can you give us some privacy to talk?"

"Oh, sure! I'll see you tomorrow." Keigo turned to you and smiled before walking away. You crossed your arms over your chest once the sound of Keigo's footsteps had disappeared.

"Who told you where my room was?" You finally spoke. You can't help but want to stare at Eraserhead and how much he's grown into himself. He's more muscular than the last time you saw him and his long black hair was messily tied up into a bun. His clavicle peeked out of the black t-shirt he's wearing.

"My room is just 2 down from yours, I saw some delivery people come in and then I heard your voice."

"Stalker much." You pause as your eyes flicker up to his. "What do you want, Eraser?"

"Shouta or Aizawa. Don't call me Eraser."

"Why not? That's your hero name after all. Are you not a hero?"

"Don't be a brat. You know me. Not as Eraser." He turned his head to the side, glancing at the carpet under his feet. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"You're about..." You pretend to count on your fingers. "5 years too late."

"I didn't know there was a timeframe for apologies. I haven't seen you, I don't have your number or anything -"

"And that's the way it's going to stay." You fish for your keys in your purse. "I'm observing your class for the rest of the week and then I'll be out of your hair. We can be civil for everyone else but I don't need to have you in my life as anything other than a co-worker."

Eraser pondered his next words, not knowing if he should grovel at your feet or just walk away.

"Promise to call me by my name." Was all he said.

"Goodnight Aizawa." You turn the key into your room and shut the door. Your heart is beating quickly, the memories of your last encounter with Aizawa seeping into your brain. Due to your quirk, you feel things deeply. Past empathy. You can feel the same pain another person feels when you put them in a memory.

You slept like shit. Barely got 4 hours of sleep. But you had a job to do.

You put on a satin midi skirt, platform sandals and a white t-shirt tucked into your skirt. You let your hair down into it's natural waves, hitting the middle of your back.

You kept it natural-ish with the makeup, only adding moisturizer and mascara.

You start to hear the clamoring of students in the halls heading for their homeroom class, which is with Aizawa. You open and shut your door quickly, making sure it's locked.

When you walk into the homeroom of class 1A, you're greeted by many faces.

"You look too old to be a student." A blonde haired boy scoffed as he walked by you.

"Kachan be nice!" A boy with green hair followed behind him. "I'm sorry about him. My name is Midoria, that's Bakugo."

"Hi." You told Midoria your name. "My hero name is Mirage, but please, use my name. I'm the new strategy teacher here but I'm observing Mr. Aizawa for a few days."

"YOU'RE MIRAGE?" Midoria squeeled. "You are AMAZING! Wow! I have so much to ask you about! I would love to know how you're quirk works-"

"Midoria leave her alone." You hear a low voice. You turn around and see a two-toned haired boy with a scar on his eye. When did he get that? He has the same eyes as Endeavor, no doubt his kid. You met him when he was a small child, but you haven't seen him since then.

"Shoto." You smile, pulling him into a hug. "You've grown so much!"

"My father told me you would be teaching here. I'm looking forward to your class."

"I'm sure you'll excel in it. Enji has told me how great you are already, you have so much potential."

"My old man likes to lie." Shoto turned to sit in his seat. You raised your eyebrow, not sure what he means.

The rest of the students trickled in, and then Aizawa. He's wearing a black suit with his hair down, eyes tired as always.

"Settle down, kids." Aizawa spoke. You take a seat at the smaller desk that was put beside his. "This is Mirage. She'll be teaching a strategy class soon, but she's observing for the rest of the week. You will behave."

"Yes Mr. Aizawa." The kids echoed. You watched Aizawa teach, his words more care than you've ever heard. The students respected him, clearly.

You watched his mouth move with the words he was saying. You can't lie, you loved his voice.

But fuck him.

He isn't shit.

You adjust yourself in your seat and pull out your phone, reading a text from an unknown number.

Hope you don't mind - I got your number from Endeavor. I hope you're having a great first day!

Obviously it was Keigo.

Thank you, it's going well so far! And thank you again for walking me back to my room last night.

No prob! It was my pleasure. :)

You hear Aizawa clear his throat. "Is this not a good time to talk?"

"I believe I told you that we're co-workers. We don't need to chit chat while the students are brainstorming where they would like to do their internship."

"It's funny how you still think you run the world. We are not 'just co-workers'" He used his fingers as air quotes. "There is so much more history than that."

"Aizawa it's gonna take a lot more than one apology to make me forgive you."

"In order for my to prove to you that you should accept my apology, you need to talk to me."

Touche.

"Fine." You huffed, your eyes scanning the classroom. "So, who do you think has the most potential?"

"Obviously Shoto is one of the top contenders. His quirk - fire and ice - is unlike a lot of what we've seen. Bakugo, though he has a tough exterior, is very talented. I'm not sure about Midoria. He's annoying."

"Reminds me of someone." Your eyes flicker to his.

"Who? All Might?" He turns to you, completely serious.

"No. You. You're annoying."

He chuckles and you can see just a bit of his smile. It's rare from Aizawa, so it's rewarding when you see it.

You catch yourself staring for a second too long. "Momo has a lot of potential, too. Her quirk is fantastic."

"She just lacks confidence." Aizawa pulled his yellow sleeping bag over his head.

"You can't be serious."

"I need a nap. I barely sleep."

"Still?" There's worry in your voice. Aizawa has always been tired, but now his eye bags look especially deep.

"Wake me up in 30 minutes. Check on the students while you're at it. They like to get off task."

Shouta sleeps like an angel. You would never know how annoying he is or how sarcastic he can be. You watch his body move with his breath, his lips opened slightly to let air in.

Fuck. Stop staring at him.

After class you text Keigo back.

You: Finally finished with class for the day. How is your day going? Patrolling the city?

Keigo: Yeah. Slow day though, I was hoping you would text me back.

You: Why wouldn't I?

Keigo: *shrug emoji* Are you free tonight?

You: In fact I am.

Keigo: Would you like to watch a movie together? And yes I'm also inviting myself over to your place.

Very forward. You haven't had a man in your room since... well, your coma. You've had a dry spell for the past 5 years and you basically forgot how to kiss, let alone have sex.

But you don't have to have sex with Keigo yet. Or at all. It's just a movie.

You: Meet me at my place at 9. Make sure the kids don't see you.

Keigo: This feels like Romeo and Juliet.

You smile down at your phone, realizing you've been standing in the same spot for a few minutes. Aizawa raises an eyebrow at you as he walks out of his classroom.

"How long have you been standing here? You look like you're in a trance."

"I was texting, got immersed in my thoughts." You fake laugh. "Those kids really look up to you."

"Is that... a compliment?" Aizawa chuckled, placing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Don't say I was never nice to you." You turn on your heel away from Aizawa. "See you tomorrow, Eraser." You wave.

You don't look back or listen for him to reply.

You can't look back at him.

Otherwise you might get stuck in his eyes.

_______________________

You clean your place before Keigo arrives, making sure everything is in its place and spotless. You slip on a pair of sweatshorts that hug your ass nicely and a tank top, more low cut than usual. Your tits pool at the top of it, just waiting to be touched.

As you're dusting, you hear a knock.

"Coming!" You walk over to the door, opening it quickly.

"Eraser?" You raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Who were you expecting while wearing almost nothing?" He looked down at you, looking almost angry.

"None of your business. What do you want?"

"You left your planner." He handed you your agenda. His eyes wandered to your chest as he slid the book in your hands. Goosebumps formed on your skin as his stare intensified.

"Thank you." You tried to make yourself forget that your nipples are getting hard from Aizawa just looking at you. "See you tomorrow." You take a step back and try to close the door.

"Who's coming over?" Aizawa stopped the door with his foot.

"None of your damn business. Are you my father now?"

"It's the bird isn't it."

"So what if it was?" You cross your arms over your chest. "What's wrong with that?"

Aizawa was silent for a moment. He wanted to choose his next words carefully.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat. "Have a good night." He reached his arm above your head to place his hand on the door, letting his bicep block your view of the hallway. He leans down, ghosting his lips along your ear. "He can't satisfy you like I can."

You freeze as he walks away. What does he mean Keigo can satisfy you like he can? How can he just walk away without waiting for a reaction? What even just happened?

"Hey!" You hear Keigo's voice coming from the other end of the hallway. "I made sure no one else saw -" He jogged up to your door, noticing what you were wearing. "This for me?" He smirked.

"It's just what I was already wearing." You smile and turn into your room. While you're excited to spend time with Keigo, Aizawa's words are stuck in your head.

He can't satisfy you like I can.

------------------------------

Keigo wastes no time wrapping his arms around you as the movie progresses. He's very cuddly and touchy, something you're not used to. But he's so cute and sweet that you want him to.

"Can I be forward with you?" Keigo turns his head to look at you.

"You have been this whole time. What's stopping you now?"

"I want to kiss you. I have since yesterday."

"One day with me and you want to kiss me already? My quirk might be love at first sight." You smile as his eyes scan your face.

"Something about you is just..." He brings his index finger to your cheek, caressing it gently. "Can I?"

Can he?

Of course he can.

Do you want him to?

Yes.

Are you still thinking about Eraserhead?

Also yes.

"Yes." You nod, hoping this kiss would wash away the thought of Aizawa.

And it does. For a little.

Keigo's lips attach to yours in the neediest of ways. He presses his hand onto your cheek, using his thumb to rub along your skin. You turn your body to face him, gently pushing your hand on his chest against the back of the couch.

He follows your lead and pushes himself to the back of the couch. You straddle his waist, letting your plush thighs pool on his legs. Keigo's hands travel to your waist and the top of your ass.

He grips your ass cheek gently, testing the waters. You press your tits into him in approval, letting him know he's okay to keep going. He opens his mouth to let your tongue in to deepen the kiss. He likes when you take the lead, obviously.

"God, you're beautiful." He moans against your lips as he kneads your ass. "All this ass, I need more than 2 hands." He chuckled as he planted kisses along your jawline to your neck.

"Keigo," You moan softly, tangling your fingers in his honey hair. "Yes, there." You feel his tongue swirl along your skin before he bites down, sucking the sweet spot on your neck. His hands travel up to your chest, getting a handful of each breast in each hand.

"You're so soft." He kisses your lips again, squeezing your tits gently. You smile as he looks mesmerized by you. Like he worships you.

You bring your hands to his face and plant a kiss on his lips softly.

"I think it's time for bed. It's a school night." You whisper with a giggle. Your panties are soaked, but you need some self control.

Keigo nods, still drunk off your kisses and body. "Can't have you too tired for class." His whispers, kissing your lips again. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe." You shrug. Keigo fake frowns and you kiss his lips gently. "You have my number, silly." You get yourself off of him slowly and fix your top.

"Goodnight." He kisses you once more before he leaves. You look out in the hallway, taking note that no students are out.

You know who is?

Fucking Eraserhead.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha smut #mha takami keigo #keigo takami #keigo x reader #could've been you

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yeoosaangg · 1 year ago

Text

៹ CHURCH || KINKTOBER ─ DAY 15

➛ PAIRING:: NA JAEMIN × FEM!READER

➛ NOW PLAYING:: CHURCH — CHASE ATLANTIC

⤷ ❝AND I'LL KEEP LEADING YOU ON IF YOU KEEP LEADING ME INTO YOUR ROOM.❞

➛ GENRE:: ANGST, COLLEGE!AU, SITUATIONSHIP, SMUT

➛ WARNINGS:: MIRROR SEX, BREEDING KINK, CHOKING, FINGERING, MARKING, PRAISE

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

Everyone in your new town warned you - do not get involved with Na Jaemin.

It was odd to be told that right out the gate, but you complied. It was a small town, with one university for the locals to attend if they wish to remain in familiar territory.

You chose this college because it's where your mom grew up. She passed away last year and you wanted to fulfill her wishes of seeing the place.

Your dad wasn't enthusiastic in moving there, but he'll do what your mom said because he still loves her.

And when you met a few people, they'd tell you about everyone's business. Literally.

The head cheeleader? Sleeping with the football coach.

The football captain? Sleeping with the music teacher.

Na Jaemin? Stay away from him.

You listened to your new friends for a while; you did not want to be a part of the drama. But because you were "fresh", you had caught his attention next.

Jaemin: One date. I swear you won't regret it.

Y/n: No thanks. Have a nice day.

He didn't give up until you finally cracked. He took the opportunity to approach you when he found out your friends didn't have classes for the day.

Jaemin: I'm serious, let me take you on a date.

This time around, you caved - only to get him to back off!

But after the one date, you both couldn't stay away from each other. You, because he made you feel alive. Him, because you're the perfect little fuckdoll.

Every other girl in that town was so eager to sleep with him, he did it to shut them up and never go back.

But you, wow you couldn't have been more perfect. A virgin willing to let him teach you how to please him? Why would he ever say no to that?

And then the inevitable happened - you fell in love with him.

You knew, by the caution of others, that he wasn't one for commitment. He'll fuck a girl once and never go back. But you felt special because he did come back. Multiple times, in fact.

Everytime you'd bring up a possible relationship, he shuts it down and distracts you with his kisses.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided cut him off if he wasn't going to take you seriously.

Jaemin: C'mon, angel. Don't throw us away.

Y/n: There is no us, Jaemin. You made sure of that.

And you kept your word. You stopped seeing him in secrecy, occupying yourself with your studies. You even met a guy who makes you laugh and feel important.

And Jaemin made a fool of himself by picking a fight with him during one of the lunch breaks.

Juyeon: What the fuck is your problem, dude?

Jaemin: You're my fucking problem, Lee Juyeon. Stay the fuck away from Y/n.

Juyeon: Why should I? Because she agreed to go on a date with me after rejecting you for months?

Jaemin: She's mine. I don't fucking share.

Juyeon: She's no one's property, Na. No wonder she hates you.

That set Jaemin off. He doesn't even know what he's doing, all he knows is he's angry and Juyeon's his target. Lefts and rights collide onto his jaw, drawing blood.

It wasn't until he heard your voice that he finally stops beating the man to a pulp.

Y/n: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Jaemin: Baby, I can expl-

Y/n: Shut up. Just stay the fuck away from me.

You crouch down, helping Juyeon to his feet. You were going to accompany him to the infirmary, but Jaemin wasn't having it.

You yelp when he lifts you off the ground, making his way out of the dining hall and out to the student parking lot. He opens his car and makes sure to put your seatbelt on.

You try to get out, but the door stays locked. Did he child proof it? Such an asshole.

All your friends were in distress as they saw you trying to get out. Jaemin drives off in the direction of his apartment that no one knew belongs to him.

No one except you.

Y/n: Jaemin, please. Just forget about me.

Jaemin: You're fucking crazy if you think I'll listen to that stupid request. I don't want other men touching what's mine.

Y/n: I'm not yours.

Jaemin: Why do you keep saying that? I'm the one that took your virginity, first kiss, first everything! That makes you mine.

Y/n: No, it doesn't. It just means I trusted you at the time.

Jaemin: You don't trust me now?

Y/n: Not with the way you're acting.

If you weren't looking at him, you'd miss the tears streaming down his face.

He never cries.

Jaemin: Baby, please don't say things like that. It hurts to hear you say you don't trust me.

Y/n: Why are you crying? You don't even care about me the way I needed you to.

Jaemin: I want to.

What?

Jaemin: I want to care about you that way, but I don't know how. You're the first girl I've ever felt something more with than just lust. And it fucking terrifies me. But when you left? I felt like I was dying, angel.

This can't be happening right now.

He pulls into the apartment complex's parking garage, and both of you just sit in silence until he speaks up.

Jaemin: Please don't leave me.

Y/n: I can't keep doimg this with you, Jaemin.

Jaemin: Why not?

He looks so sad, an emotion he never displays. You don't want to give in, in case it's all an act.

Y/n: You don't like me that way, Jaemin.

Jaemin: And how would you know that?

You don't, but if he did he would've asked you out when you voiced your affection.

Jaemin: Come upstairs with me. I'll show you that I'm serious about this.

You should've known better than to listen because now he has you on our knees in front of a large, full length mirror.

Jaemin: Remember that conversation we had when we started this?

Y/n: How could I forget?

He asked you what your biggest fantasy in bed was, so you naturally replied with the truth - to be fucked in front of a mirror.

He never gave you that fantasy back then, just stored the information for later.

Your breath hitches when he starts to undress you.

He pauses a bit when he senses your hesitation. Despite his past actions, he meant everything he said on the way there.

Jaemin: Do you want this?

Y/n: Yes.

Jaemin: Are you sure?

Y/n: I want to see if you're telling the truth.

He tries to smile, but it just falls.

He knows it's going to take a lot more than just fucking you to show that he's serious about you. He'll gladly spend months, even years, proving himself to you.

Jaemin continues to undress you, touching everywhere with such tenderness. He usually gets straight to the point and fucks you dumb.

But this wasn't just any rendezvous hookup, you're his everything. And he wants to show you that.

He starts fondling your breasts, using his fingers to stimulate your nipples.

You hate how his touch instantly relaxes you. You don't want to admit it, but you've missed him.

Jaemin: I've never had someone consume every part of my mind, body, and soul the way you have, princess. But, fuck, I don't want that to stop.

Y/n: Really?

Jaemin: Mhm. I can't lose you again, baby. I was already feeling crazy this time around. Next time, I fear I'll do something reckless.

Y/n: You think there'll be a next time?

Jaemin: I have to be realistic. This is all new to me, and I'm bound to make mistakes. But I hope you can find it in your heart to see that I'm trying. For you.

You lay your head against his shoulder, grinding down on his clothed erection.

Y/n: We'll figure it out if the time comes. For now, show me that you mean what you're saying.

He nods, kissing you deeply as his hand travels down to your clit. A moan falls passed your lips - right next to his ear - from finally being touched.

He slides his finger up and down your folds, loving the way your eyes are trained at the mirror. He can see you biting your bottom lip at the sight.

He shoves two fingers inside, making you choke on your moan. He just pumps his fingers rapidly, eventually adding another.

Jaemin: Keep looking, baby. Want you to see how gorgeous you look when you cum for me.

He starts painting your neck with lots of dark marks, staring at you through the mirror. You cum all over his fingers and the floor.

Jaemin: Beautiful.

You watch yourself catch your breath, a smile curling at the corners of your lips. That was so hot, you want more.

He undresses himself, and then positions himself right behind you. He hooks his arm to both of yours, lining his hard cock to your pussy.

Jaemin: Do not look away. Want you to see just how much of a goddess you are when I fuck you. Can you do that for me, angel?

You nod, wiggling your ass so he can put it in already.

He chuckles, bottoming out with no hesitation. He knows you can take his big size perfectly.

You watch yourself ceumble as his thrusts get rougher and slower. He wants you to feel his cock stretching your gummy walls - and, fuck, do you feel it.

Jaemin: You look so pretty taking all of my cock, princess.

He reaches around to hold you by the throat, letting go of your arms in the process. You scream, cumming again from the sensitivity.

He doesn't stop ramming his dick into you, loving the way your face is contorting to one of pure pleasure.

The way he's choking you forces the eye contact you have to make through the mirror. You love the way he's also moaning along with you - usually he grunts quietly.

Jaemin: You're doing so good, baby. Love the way your cunt begs for my cock. Did you miss me, too?

Y/n: So much!

It was hard to speak with his hand around your throat, so a short and simple answer will suffice. He didn't mind, though - your eyes tell him everything.

Jaemin: You want to cum again, don't you? Go ahead, love. Cum all over my cock.

It was like his words activated another orgasm. You can feel your essence dripping down your thighs and onto his.

You feel him fill you up, moaning as the warm liquid paints your gummy walls.

But he still wasn't done.

He pushes your head down onto the ground, chin up so you can still see yourselves.

Jaemin: Gonna get you pregnant, angel. Fill you up so no other man thinks he has a chance with you. They're gonna see how happy we are and get jealous.

You moan, clenching around his cock. You honestly love that idea more than you should.

Jaemin: You like that, don't you princess? Then I'll make it happen.

He continues to pound your pussy, the position allowing him to fuck you deeper than ever. He just abuses your hole until you're filled with three loads of his kids.

He kisses your shoulders, winking at you while his hips smack against your ass.

Jaemin: Look at you falling apart, baby. Think you can cum for me one more time?

Y/n: Mhm.

You can't even speak anymore with how good his cock is opening you up. You both cum one last time, staying in the position until he can properly pull out.

Jaemin: Keep your ass up. Don't want to watch anymore cum escape.

All you could do was listen because your body was twitching from getting fucked dumb by him.

He comes back and gently inserts a plug in your cunt, kissing in between your thighs to help distract you.

Jaemin: I'm running a bath. I'll take good care of you, my princess.

You just let him carry you into the bathroom.

He doesn't get in the tub with you, choosing to focus on you instead. He washes your hair and body so delicately, you'd think he was handling glass.

Y/n: Is it too soon to say the L word?

He freezes for a moment before he smiles at you.

Jaemin: Yeah. But I'll let you know when we can, okay?

Y/n: Okay.

═══

a/n: yeah, i jinxed myself. gonna go sleep (,,•﹏•,,) thank you for reading ‹𝟹

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icallhimjoey · 11 months ago

Text

The Boy Is Mine (icallhimjoey's edition)

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe has work and cancels plans but, you know what, you can just come over and help him out, can’t you? It's nerve-racking and embarrassing but, ok fine, you can come over and help him. CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, anxiety, we make fun of joe because he’s a dork, full fluff

Author’s note: i had fomo for @carolmunson’s the boy is mine writing exercise, so i just went ahead and gave it my own rpf spin. pls go and read all the other wonderful editions here!

Wordcount: 1.8K

“Okay, so, to set the scene,” Joe was being exceptionally theatrical tonight. He’d sat you down on the sofa and used the floorspace on the other side of the coffee table as his stage. It was all big arm gestures, and exaggerated faces, and big steps, and this was meant to be serious business.

It wasn’t.

You could tell Joe was a little nervous, which in turn made you a little nervous too.

You’ve had to suppress a smile ever since you walked in and couldn’t seem to stop giggling at things that usually wouldn’t even remotely tickle you, big ball of nerves.

“We’re in a trailer. Think, a big holiday park. Sort of dreary, it all looks the same, just, caravan after caravan after cara–”

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never been on holiday before.”

“Well for all I know you haven’t, Miss Workaholic. I’ve never seen you put down your work–”

You shut him up with a hit of a throw pillow to his face. Joe didn’t even flinch, just let it hit him square in the face and drop to the floor before giving you a blank stare for a second, all unimpressed.

Made you laugh. Again.

“Okay. So. Trailer park.” Joe made big eyes at you like a teacher would, directing you back to the task at hand. To why you were even there in the first place.

“Trailer park.” you repeated, sitting up a little, being a good student.

Joe frowned as his eyes had to focus on the script he was holding, turning a page and then flicking it back.

“Yes. Trailer park.” Joe confirmed absentmindedly.

He took another moment to seemingly find what he was looking for, eyes scanning before he reached up to pull his glasses from his hair. You sat pretty and waited.

Everything about the situation was objectively hilarious.

Joe had had to cancel on plans he’d made with you because of some changes in his schedule and now he had to learn lines at the speed of light meaning he couldn’t take you out for a drink. You didn’t mind – yes you did – and you’d casually said you could come over anyway. Help him out. Read lines with him.

“You’d do that?” He’d asked, carefully hopeful.

“Yea course!”

“And you’d like that?”

“As much as hanging out with you in general is a massive chore,” you’d joked. “It totally beats sitting at home by myself all night.”

And so you’d been invited over.

And now, Joe was nervous. He had just the one script, and handing it over to you meant that you’d see the little notes he’d taken. The scribbles and the arrows that pointed to more little notes, and for some parts even little sad or happy smiley faces. It would reveal a bunch of uncool shit about himself, not to mention the fact that Joe was breaking rules. None of this was meant for your eyes.

“Traiiii...” Joe was having a hard time finding what he was looking for and you started to grow impatient.

“I think we’ve got the location down.” you laughed, then suddenly your face dropped and turned faux serious. “Or, sorry, is this part of it? Of how you learn? Is that why it takes you fucking ages to–” you had to duck to the side as Joe threw the pillow you’d launched at his face earlier right back at you.

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem.”

Joe handed you the script, pointed from where you were going to read lines together, and then picked up a small notebook from the table.

He cleared his throat, gestured with a hand that meant, calm down, and then started the scene.

You read from the page, and Joe tried to do the scene from memory as much as he could, only occasionally glancing at look at his notes.

It took a few lines for you to actually calm down. To feel the jitters inside of your body slip away.

Joe was blushing still, though.

He’d never done this with you before, and he definitely felt silly, playing pretend with a pretty girl in his living room. But when you kind of started getting into it, found focus and fed him little words when he got stuck, it turned into actual acting.

You stayed seated on his sofa, eyes on the page, and Joe was all over the place. Pacing, using wild arms, facial expressions all over, repeating lines in different ways when they didn’t feel quite right after saying them the first time and... this was actually kind of fun.

And then props were introduced, but all wrong.

Joe needed to make a call, the script said, and he just grabbed the remote control of the TV as his pretend phone.

You stiffled a laugh, just about.

Then up next, he grabbed a nice crystal wine glass, held it out to you and it became more and more difficult to keep your giggles inside as you read ahead at what he was about to say.

“I ran out of nice cups, is this okay?”

You pretended you were handed something atrocious. Or, well, you tried to, at least. It was becoming very apparent who was the real actor in the room. When the script called for a bite of cake, something that would leave vanilla frosting on his face, Joe just perfectly mimed the action, and you were shocked at how you could see it.

There was nothing there.

But there was, though.

Wild.

Joe barely had to look at his own little notebook the longer you went, yet your stumbling and stuttering through lines increased as you read them aloud. It slowly shifted the anxiety from Joe over to you, and you didn’t like it one bit.

It felt silly, because Joe’s growing confidence didn’t have to mean that yours slowly withered, but, that was exactly what happened.

Joe noticed and in a bid to make you relax, he moved around the coffee table before sitting down on top of it, right in front of you.

“Here, take it back a little,” Joe folded a page back in the script that you were still holding, and pointed, his voice soft and gentle. “From here again.”

Joe had pointed at one of his own lines, so you kind of waited for him to start. But then he stayed silent, and when you flicked your eyes up at him, he was smiling.

“You’re holding the script. You lead.”

Oh. Yea, okay.

You went through the same bit of a scene again, this time with your knees touching his. Joe spoke in a much calmer voice, much lower this time around. The vibe shifted and now, it had you blushing.

Fucking adorable, Joe thought.

It made him want to grab hold of your face as you read. Press kisses all over your cheeks. The bridge of your nose. Your eyes.

There was not a chance in hell that Joe was going to actually get all his work done tonight, but if he was being honest, you’d already managed to do more than he’d expected beforehand.

You fucked up a line and went, “Wait, no... jesus,” and took a second to start over. When it was Joe’s turn to speak, he stayed silent again, and it made you look up at him, only to see him stare at you with the most lovesick grin you’d ever seen.

Disgusting. How dared he.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You knocked one of his knees with yours.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Joe said, not changing a single thing about the way he was staring at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and had to try really hard to hide a smile.

“Are you... are you getting off on me not being very good at this?”

Joe laughed, said, “No, you’re amazing actually.” before he leant in a little, clearly going in for a kiss.

It had you moving back.

“Um...” you held a hand up before you jokingly scanned the page in front of you. Turned it to check the next one too. “There’s no kissing in this scene.”

“Um...” Joe copied you, and was quick to take the script from your hands, turning it around so he could get a look himself. “Yea there is, actually. Look.” Joe pointed at a random line, and before you could even get a proper look, he’d already flung it to the side and lurched forward to get his lips on yours.

You shrieked into it, trying to kiss Joe back just as much as you were trying to push him away.

Joe laughed, and so did you, and you were just pressing smiles together for a second, giggling right into Joe’s cackles. He had to hold your face in both of his hands to keep you close.

“Maybe,” you murmured around kisses, “This wasn’t the best idea. I’m clearly not helping.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true.”

Joe kissed you harder.

“Liar.”

“I’m not a liar.” Joe sat back and made a face. Looked like a real douchebag as he scrunched his eyebrows together and smirked. “I’m an actor.”

You laughed as Joe reached to pick up the script he’d thrown to the other side of the sofa. Folded the pages back and handed it back over to you.

“Okay. So.” he got up, clapped his hands together and walked back over to his spot in front of the TV, notebook now discarded on the sofa. He was going to try without it. “We’re in a trailer.”

You smiled at him as you watched him try his best to get back into the zone.

“Trailerpark.” you confirmed, trying your best to match Joe’s vibe.

Serious business.

You frowned as you started again, but you were quickly stopped.

“Wait, sorry. Wait. Just, I’ve got to... hang on,” Joe planted a knee onto the coffee table and leant all the way forward. His hands found both your knees and he moved until he got to steal one last quick kiss.

Okay, two.

Three.

Quick, a fourth. Maybe a fifth.

“Joe,” you giggled.

“What?” a sixth.

“I’m here to help you work!”

“Well, then,” seven. “Stop being so fucking cute!”

Joe got a few more in. An eight, ninth and a tenth, before he scrambled back up onto his feet.

Joe took a second to smile at you before he cleared his throat. “Right. Trailerpark.”

You smiled right back.

“Trailerpark.” the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #the boy is mine

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