#calc final here i come

[feralnightwing]

programming final over and i? did well?? unheard of. miracles do exist.

[satoruhour]

STILL (ALWAYS) HERE

a/n: part two to this but not really? enjoy!

wc: 2.4k

warnings: spider-man!gojo, a little ooc gojo, mentions of blood and bruises, cleaning up wounds, some angst -> comfort, play on that one scene from tasm 2

you’re thinking that you’ve hit another dead end when you groan into your sheets from the headache that wraps around your head. it’s mild and dull but there’s still that throb at the back of your consciousness that you can’t exactly take your mind off of. at least, that was what you were telling yourself — normal headaches caused by the stress of university, and definitely not because of a trivial fight with your boyfriend.

the daunting calculus question stares back at you like it was mocking you, teasing you for getting heated over such a small thing when you knew he was only looking out for you with the best intentions in mind.

with a longing look to your abandoned convo with spider-man!gojo, you sink again into your pillow, lights suddenly looking too bright and the music in your ears, jarring. you haven’t seen him in school today, thinking him to be dramatic as always. but he didn’t need lectures and seminars at this point, either, knowing him to be one of the smartest people you know.

in the midst of quelling your headache and thinking of how to apologise, you don’t notice the way your vigilante boyfriend weaves his web around the trees just outside your window, crafting a sweet message of i miss you along the branches and leaves.

a tangle of webs, stuck like honeycomb to some abandoned shed, a tangle of webbing like his hip to yours. tangles of countless webs like his lips along your forehead when you fall asleep too early during study sessions and finally, his heart beating in time with yours.

one fell swoop of a rock from above makes you head tilt in utter confusion; in no world could a rock fall against your window in an arc like that come from anyone of this world, this dimension, yet you know no other person with wall-sticking and web-shooting abilities and it’s then when the complicated entanglement of letters come into view.

your heart clenches up just a little at the sight, a clear indication that it’s satoru from the similarity of his handwriting that’s on his own pre-calc homework. before you can call out, he shifts diagonally outside your window, mask removed and chest heaving at the anticipation of your reaction — both to the tension of your fight before and possibly another thing.

the darkness of the night hardly provides clarity, though, so when you don’t walk away, gojo feels the pull of your eyes on him, drawing him in and trapping him within your own web like prey. crawling along the side of your house, he gives you one more small pleading look: roughed up hair looking a little dirty and his body just aching so much.

“baby . .” he mumbles, blue eyes softening at the sight of you after not seeing you for just one day. it does things to him, “may i?”

but you’re not truly prepared for until your ceiling light exposes the reality of gojo’s situation, what with his cut-filled face and rips all over his suit. it’s dirty, like he was dragged around and made a fool of fighting god knows who, and he’s — oh my god — is all you mouth out, he’s bleeding from a fairly large wound in his side which he has held pressure with his mask.

“’toru!” you panic and quieten down, “oh— oh my god, fuck, fuck fuck, what do i do? satoru— you’re b-bleeding—” and you regret every single word you yelled at him just the day before, now rewarded (or cursed, rather) with his pristine white suit stained a deep, traumatising red. you’re shaking, rightfully so, and gojo is more calm than you, using his free and clean hand to rub circles into your sides.

“breathe, you gotta breathe, princess.”

“n-no— you breathe! you’re l-losing blood!’’ your throat closes in, your head fills with thoughts of his coffin being lowered. you start to sob, “satoru—”

“hey, hey, hey,” it’s both gentle and strong enough to catch your attention, brushing the stray strands from your face and you already lean into the long-awaited touch. his thumb wipes away the tears that already start falling, “’m still here, ’m still here. i’ve tried my best to cover the wound with extra shirts of mine, just stuffed into my suit.”

sniffling, you speak through hiccups, “why the hell do you have extra shirts in your fighting-villains backpack? w-why do you even bring a fighting-villains backpack?”

through the absurdity of it all: fucking spider-man bleeding out on your wooden floor, your tears mixing in with blood, the branches outside starting to snap and fall from the added tension of the webs, satoru laughs softly, fully cupping your face now and trying his best not to grimace at the increasing ache in his side. 

“and you always laugh at the weirdest fucking times!” you chastise, still speaking through periodic hiccups and sniffles that you keep stuttering, not even able to smack him like you like to do because you know he hurts, “now wait here, you loser.”

a soft thank you is heard, able to breathe a little harsher now that you’ve gone to find the first aid, anxiety obvious in the pattering footsteps heard. without wasting any time, you grab the kit and let him peel off the suit in the bathroom, not even that much focused on his toned body but the amount of bruises and cuts that litter it.

a new wave of panic settles in your bones, a whimper sounding out when your feather-like touches span over his body.

“satoru . .”

“i’m so—”

“no,” you mumble, getting to work fast by taking out the gauze, bandages, whatever you could use. thank the heavens you at least knew some first aid, wincing whenever he hisses at the stinging alcohol. “let’s not talk about our fight now.”

he swallows, knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the sink, “f-first time you’re not asking me to apologise, heh—”

from behind, he can see you lift your eyes from the careful care you execute on his side, meeting your eyes in the mirror that gloss over again with tears and his heart sinks again.

“p— please don’t make jokes when i’m literally stitching you up, satoru,” you whisper, forehead bumping into his bicep, soft but quick breaths fanning over the skin there, “i don’t wanna talk, not while i almost lost you.”

“but it’s hardly any—”

“gojo satoru!” the shout of his full name shocks both of you, not even sure whether you were feeling angry at the fact that he always downplays his injuries, or sad at the fact that he can’t see that he deserves to be taken care of, too. it was always a guessing game with satoru.

“it’s not just anything, g-god! can you have some regard for yourself?” you don’t care that your words echo off the bathroom walls, its acoustics probably making your wails even more heartbreaking for your boyfriend. “look at yourself and tell me that it’s hardly anything! tell me, say it to my face!”

your nose is red, tear stains already making their home on your pretty face while your fingers squeeze the gauze instinctively, and he tells himself it’s all because of him. it’s all because he didn’t want to be a couple in public in fear that his enemies would target you, because he was afraid they’d use you as leverage, as a decoy, as a trade deal. but that has only made the yearning for you more difficult — pinkies barely brushing against each other, an inside joke swallowed into his throat.

satoru is silent, not sure what he could say that wouldn’t hurt you any further and he turns to lean against the sink counter, bloodied hands staining the marble and suit. and if he looked hard enough, he’s sure he can see the ache of your palpitating heart, bleeding down your chest and pooling at the floor from all the pain he’s caused you.

you dance across the bathroom floor, tiles both cold and warm under your feet as you make your move without any sound, afraid, afraid, like he would get pulled away the moment you touch him.

but he doesn’t go anywhere — just jerking a little at the sudden contact.

“satoru . .” hoarse, tired, it’s what he made your voice sound like just yesterday from shouting, and now, today, “i . .”

you cry quietly but never stop your ever loving hands, holding his face to look up from the shame, and you see how dull his cerulean ones look now, softened but dim, gentle but lacking vivacity. you think maybe it’s the tears hindering it. bit by bit, gojo’s tears fall and he apologises.

satoru apologises over and over, i’m sorry’s muttered into your hair, into your forehead, into your lips and both your hands are shaking like on a first date.

“i just can’t bear to lose you,” you mumble shakily, trembling fingers tracing the lines of his features, “and i hope you know how much you mean to me, and— and how much it hurts to see you so nonchalant about being beaten up like this . .”

you stifle a sob when he kisses your fingers as they travel over his lips, having crossed oceans over his eyes and mountains through his nose. his lips, his lips look just like the sanctuary of everything soft and good and righteous, that sliver of perfect time like on juliet’s balcony.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, darling. i—” gojo sighs, pain now turning numb but still trying his best not to move an inch, “i guess i just become so used to taking care of aunt may that, i . . am not used to being taken care of.”

you nod in understanding, “i’m sorry too, for lashing out, for dismissing your efforts to make me feel safe. you were only looking out for me.”

gojo’s eyes avert from yours again, looking down at the one thing that signified his place in society — never that much seen, not much recognised, but still revered as the city’s hero. it represents anything from something as simple as getting back an old lady’s handbag to fighting off a scientist-turned-reptilian. but it also represents the why.

why he fights so hard. a star student like gojo definitely wouldn’t pass off the praises when he saves a falling civilian, but it was much deeper than that when it came to it, wanting the city he grew up in to be safe and to seeing the grateful, relieved expressions of passers-by.

it was for you, when the last face he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is your pretty one and he’d be damned if that changed any time soon.

that night where satoru is all patched up and lying like a statue because he’s afraid he’d tear your nicely done stitches (you assured him it was mediocre at best), his hand finds your hand naturally again, playing with the strands aimlessly.

all thoughts of the news articles showing his cheeky spider mask expression, to the funky poses he pulls (from a camera so high up it would really only be one person who plants it there), phases out the cool, suave spider-man persona and centres the stupid, goofy, annoying gojo satoru.

and you smile softly to yourself knowing you’d be the only one to see gojo satoru like this. 

“i should’ve told you why; it wasn’t fair of me to just stop acting like we’re head over heels— hey, why are you smiling?”

“no reason.” and your smile brightens.

“that’s not no reason,” he matches your grin, pulling on your cheek playfully before his hand goes to your nape like clockwork and tugs gently. like you were just a normal couple after a long day, without any indication of a gash along his side, but gojo satoru was far from normal in the grand scheme of things, “there’s always a reason.”

“is that the motto that the great spider-man lives by?” you inch closer to him, smiling from above in the dimness of the room so much so that it makes you look like royalty and him a mere commoner.

“uh . . no, pretty sure it’s ‘with great power comes great responsibility’,” gojo jests with sarcasm laced in his voice, roping you in and you, letting yourself get caught always as you lower yourself on his chest, but not before your lips meet his in a soft, quiet dance with you both being the only ones in the ballroom.

the rush of love that fills you overflows in the way your mouth moves against his, not wanting this sweet, sweet dream to end. especially if you come out empty-handed at the end of it all with spider-man’s, gojo’s blood on your hands, so you keep your eyes shut tight with a promise to yourself to welcome him with welcome arms the second, third, fourth, nth that he climbs through your window, bloodied and tired.

“i’m still here,” satoru whispers against your lips when he feels just how tense you are, easing out the lines of your face and holds you in that moment, held frozen in time like a scene in a snow globe, “i will be here for as long as we are alive,” he takes your hand and puts it up to his heart to remind you of its status, of how it speeds up a tad bit when you stroke his chest, “and i am alive whenever you are near.”

the quiet moment is shared with another soft kiss, features now relaxed when you smile against his lips and inspire the next few moments of endless laughter and jokes, falling into the same breath when sleep catches up.

in the bathroom lies his white-turned-red suit, left abandoned for the normalcy you both chase in your bedroom for at least a few hours until spider-man has to go back to being spider-man and you have calc questions to finish up on. but until then, with the alarm you set at 6am in secrecy before his classes, you’d wake up just to soak and hand wash the red out, returning the blue and white suit back to its glory.

when satoru wakes up the next morning, he finally knows why your warmth in bed was missing for a brief moment of time when he sees the clean folded up suit with his mask on top. you don’t miss with a sandwich either, and a cheeky note — all the best for your most dreaded class!!! if u can fight and come out alive i believe u can survive prof. masamichi lol.

and he laughs softly, sparing a glance to your sound, peaceful self and he finds a renewed sense of the reason why he decided to become spider-man.

spider-man— satoru seals his love with a kiss to your forehead and a messy mumble of i love you, long overdue from the night before.

“thank you for loving me.”

[flwoie]

LOVE IN DISGUISE — PARK SUNGHOON

SUMMARY Secrets are meant to be kept. Sunghoon never keeps secrets though, well except one—his friends being members of a super secret spy team. He finds out on the night he gets kidnapped and is rescued by them. That night, his friend offers him to be a part of the team to stop an organization, SPY-DER LILLIES, from destroying their campus and agency, I.R.I.S (International Resource for Intellectual Spies). And like the goofy goober he is, he joins for a jetpack and to impress his longtime friend and crush, the black cat agent, in order to win her heart before the spiders come crawling up his back.

TUNE IN TO WATCH THE SERIES OF SUNGHOON LEARNING HOW TO BE THE WORLD’S GREATEST SPY WITH HIS FRIENDS AND HIS JETPACK!

STARRING spy! sunghoon x spy! f! reader (WITH txt’s beomgyu, loossemble’s yeojin, lsfm’s kazuha, nwjns’ minji, kiof’s belle, xdh’s junhan)

GENRE smau + written, romcom, episodic, friends to lovers, college au, spy au, characters inspired by my friend group, heavily inspired by that one spy kickin’ it episode (s3, ep 21)

CONTAINS 15+, profanity, light violence, brainrot😭, spy terminology isn’t fully accurate, also 50% of the chapters in here are not even spy related, incorrect timestamps (pls ignore) (chapters will specify warnings)

STATUS airing (whenever i feel like it @ 5PM CST) | july 9, 2024 - …

SOUNDTRACK

TAGLIST IS OPEN ✧ SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT UNDER MAIN MASTERLIST

🗯️ GUYS IK IVE BEEN DIPPING SMAUS BUT TRUST ME, I WONT DIP THIS ONE….

📻 : “I.R.I.S. TEAM 5 REPORTING, OVER…!”

MISSION #001 — PILOT IN DISGUISE

↳ sunghoon joins his friends’ spy team

one : jetpack joyride [0.9k]

two : the haters be hating [0.3k + smau]

three : my tall american friend

four : cuz im a sigma…👻

five : theres many girls in the fish

six : chicken butt

seven : when there's a screen, ao3 must be seen

eight : im gonna touch u lil bro

MISSION #002 — PARTY IN DISGUISE

↳ the boys throws a boys-only party in the lair while you’re out of town

nine : back early [0.2k]

ten : w rizz amirite

eleven : fake gucci pants..

twelve : H H HELL NAH🤦‍♀️ [0.5k]

thirteen : like the roblox game?

fourteen : the hell is spoogle images [0.7k + smau]

MISSION #003 — ENEMY IN DISGUISE

↳ the team keeps tabs on an I.R.I.S spy-in-training, who’s possibly a part of the SPY-DER LILLIES

fifteen : and ur dumb

sixteen : hide ur ladies🤫🥱

seventeen : luh luh loserrr

eighteen : what an ugly pepperoni […]

ninteen : PAUSE…

twenty : btw calc is short for calculator […]

twenty one : diss me diss me now u gotta kiss me

MISSION #004 — GAMES IN DISGUISE

↳ when the team is sent on a mission to defeat a tech team of SPY-DER LILLIES, they get transported to the internet world

... to be added

MISSION #005 — WITNESS IN DISGUISE

↳ the team joins a witness protection program after witnessing a fight between two canadian spy organizations

… to be added

MISSION #006 — CRUSHES IN DISGUISE

↳ in order for sunghoon to pass his final spy assessment, he needs to get over his crush

... to be added

MISSION #007 — CAMP IN DISGUISE

↳ the team is recruited to be camp counsellors for I.R.I.S spies-in-training

... to be added

enhypen masterlist

[wosostories]

Workload (Gotham FC x Teen!Reader)

Gotham x Teen!Reader

Summary: 16 year old reader has signed with Gotham FC and is struggling to find balance between school and sport with finals and the NWSL Championship both quickly approaching.

You sigh as you close your laptop for the night, you mean morning. It was just after 2:00 when you finished your history essay, calc assignment, and studying for your chemistry test the next day. Plus on top of that, starting to find all of your materials for your upcoming exams. 

It’s not even that you were pushing it all off to the last minute. It’s just the course work that you get every night is impossible to get done that night on top of the training you have with Gotham FC and your ADHD. 

You would put off doing your school work to get more sleep if you could, but your school has told you multiple times that they would revoke your work permit if you didn’t keep your grades up and get all of your assignments in on time. 

You sigh again and finally head to bed to hopefully get a couple hours before morning lift. Your alarm goes off two and a half hours later and you drag yourself out of bed. It takes you half an hour to get ready and have your things together before Lynn picks you up for training. 

When you get in the car Kristi and Lynn are already pumped up and jamming to Lynn’s playlist. You let them continue on as you tuck yourself in the back seat and try not to fall back asleep. 

“You ok kid?” Lynn asks you turing the music down. “You look a little tired.”

“Ya, just didn’t get very much sleep last night. Had a lot of homework to get done after practice.” 

“You’ve been saying that a lot recently,” Krisite pipes in, “You sure you’re getting enough rest.”

“Ya it’s just that time of year. We're coming up on exams and the NWSL Championship.” 

“You can talk to coach. I'm sure he’d understand if you needed to miss a few practices.” They tried convincing you. 

“No, it's fine. Nothing I haven’t handled before.” You all arrive at the training facility just in time to get into the lifting room. 

“Alright let's get started.” They start with stretching and then pair up to go through their specialized lifting workout for the day. You end up with Jenna Nightswonger due to your similar workout needs. 

“Are you ok Y/N. You’ve been yawning for the last 30 minutes. Which has been the entire time we’ve been here.” 

“I’m fine. Just up a little later than I probably should have been getting my homework done.”

“If you’re sure.”

They finish the lift session another 30 minutes later and you leave the rest of your team to get to school on time. You are able to make your way through the day with a quick nap during lunch and eating while working on your revions during study hall. And as soon as the bell lets you out you are back on your way to the training facility for afternoon practice. 

Your movements are slow and sluggish throughout practice as you try to keep up with the quick movements of your teammates. During all of your breaks you have an assignment out and are slowly making your way through them. 

“Hey Y/N, come here for a second.” Ali calls you over with about 45 minutes left of practice. 

“Ya hold on just one sec.” You call back as you finish up the last math problem on the worksheet. As soon as you are done you jog over to the older player. “Ya what’s up?” 

“We're all just a little worried about you. You seem a little out of it today.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh out a little frustrated. “Will everyone stop asking me that?”

“Hey now, there’s no need for that. We're just trying to help.” You sigh again. 

“I know. It’s all just a lot. I think that it might be getting to me a little.”

“That’s ok. When's the last time you got a full night of sleep?” You look down knowing that you will answer if you look at her. “Alright grab your stuff.”

“W-what?”

“Grab your things, I’m going to take you home. Then you’re going to finish anything due tomorrow then go to sleep. And you aren’t going to be coming to practice tomorrow.”

“But the championships are…”

“Not starting until next week. There is still plenty of time. But if you get hurt then it won't matter.” 

You sigh. Ali leads you over to your things and you start packing them up as Ali goes to talk to coach. She comes back over with the ok from coach. “And he said if you show up to practice at any point tomorrow he will bench you for the first game of the tournament.”

You nod, “I won’t come tomorrow. I’ll get my work done and get a good night’s rest.” 

“Good and next time it gets too much, just let us know. You’re still just a kid. It’s our job to help you so let us.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

[lesvii]

The Dinner

Valeria Garza x F! Reader

Valeria Garza fic… yeah this is the diner by Billie eilish😶‍🌫️… anyways hope u enjoy

Tw: toxic val, brief mention of smut (just touchy).

You’ve been living in a small apartment, big enough for two people. Waking up at 6am coming home at 2am. You’ve work two shifts at least to keep the rent going. Working in a coffee shop near by, at night on bar 5 min away from your place. Today was a calm evening, you sighed as you walked back to you place, fist clenched. You knew Las Almas wasn’t so “calm” at least at night… you knew you had to be careful, looking backward once in a while, just to be sure no one was following you. But that feeling of someone watching you didn’t wash away.

Don’t be afraid of me.

I’m what you need.

You’ve arrived at you place at 2:30 A.M. as you took your work shoes off and change to some comfortable pink fluffy slippers. You turned the TV on, exhausted as you stroll to the kitchen opening cabinets to see what quick meal you can make. Until something catches your eye.

“We been notified that a near squad militar unity had capture a cartel suspect, just a quick reminder on how Las Almas is quite a dangerous place—“

The TV when quiet for a second when you served yourself a bowl of fruit and yogurt as you sat on the couch near the TV. The lady on the screen looked nervous, quite astonished as she talked to someone behind camaras.

“I— um- we’ve been informed that the suspect we’ve mention has scaped the military quarters, we suggest you to no go outside past midnight, keep your doors locked, and don’t answer the door if you don’t know who they are”

“The characteristics we have been informed is a Tall woman, tan skin, tattoos in both arms, dark short hair, we repeat—“

I saw you on the screens.

I know were meant to be.

It got cut off by you changing the channel, but sadly this was all over the news, you groan as you finish your dinner.

A thunder straddle you as you jumped from the couch, you looked outside the living room window as a thunderstorm was covering Las Almas when a huge thump made you turn around in shock, you walked slowly as you tried to gather yourself, a cold breeze hit your body from behind as you turn to see the door was open.

“Fuck.. that scared the shit out of me”. You mumble as you came to close the door, this time with a lock, probably the wind made that.

You stood in silence as you decide to go upstairs to your room, wash off the stress, you took a shower, put on a set of black silky shorts and a top, quickly hoped to bed, closing your eyes, you drift to your dreams quickly.

A black shadow stare at the corner of the room, your breathing becomes heavier as you can see the woman described walking towards your bed, a knife at her hand, looking at you like a prey, the next meal she’s gonna have before disappearing into the darkness again.

You’re starring in my dreams.

In magazines.

Your looking right at me.

You scream, waking up cold sweating as you try and regulate your breathing back again, you groan as you rest you face in your hands. That’s why you don’t like to watch TV so often, too many deaths and negative propaganda. You sighed as going back to sleep wasn’t an option, finally your body stopped shaking. Nothing but a mare nightmare right?.

You sat up on bed as you turn to face your nightstand where your clock was at 3:33 A.M.

The devils hour.

What a coincidence you thought as a shiver down your back was known.

I’m here around the clock.

I’m waiting on your block.

You heard a weird creek on your stairs, strangely the same as when you set your foot cause by a weight, they are wooden stairs after all, they do made noices, you think. You stay silent for a second as you decided to be brave enough to get out off the comfort and safety of your bed, as if no monsters could ever get you there. You slowly open you bedroom door, as you peak your head a little to watch, not being at peace you decided to go downstairs quietly.

Step by step, slowly but calculating your way down to your living room, your breathing a bit on edge, you hear a noice coming from your kitchen, scared shitless you turn to see where the noice is coming from, but fear not, for your surprise was just a loose branch clicking the kitchen window, you decided to peak on the window.

“Care to have some company, chula?”

A husky voice straddled you to the point you were too scared to look back, you froze in the middle of the kitchen, as your worst fear came true.

But please don’t call the cops.

They’ll make me stop.

I just wanna talk.

You left out a trembling sighed as you turn around to face the femenine husky voice. You shook your head as you open your mouth to speak but for a moment nothing c,w trough.

“I— I don’t want any problems just take whatever you want and go-“.

Your voice practically trembling, fighting the urge to not look weak. She makes a low giggle, as she takes a step towards you.

“Really?, anything I want, careful for what you which for florecita”.

She grins taking a final step towards you, as she examines your face, the moonlight hitting your face in the most perfect angles. You stare right into her eyes, there’s something about them… something about the way they look at you, with desire, lust, possession.

“You know… I was planing to knock the fuck out of whatever perro was living here…”

Valeria makes a pause examining your apartment surroundings.

“But— I didn’t knew there was a pretty little thing living here, now you’ve just changed my mind?”.

She said as she caressed a strand of hair that was messy from the commotion.

“How about I bring you back to my place?, you can have anything with me, just name it.”

Bet I could change your life.

You could be my wife.

You stare at her confused of who she was, what was she doing here?, and now she was telling you she was going to take you away. What’s this a kidnapping of some sort?. You started to panic but something kept you grounded, the way her hands were now resting over your hips pulling you closer to the heat of the older woman’s body. You looked down to her hands as you looked away in shyness.

“Aww, no chula don’t go all shy on me now..”

Valeria said, making little circles with her fingers massaging your hips. You sighed at the touch, she leaned over as she dominantly kissed you, bitting your lower lip, her hand traveling down to your pajamas shorts. As things started to get more heated you pushed her away, as you try to make a run for it.

Bad decision

She was right after you, in a split second she cashes you like a lion stalking his pray, ready to make the last kill. She pushes you right into the corner of the living room.

Could get into a fight

I’ll say your right

And I’ll kiss you good night.

“And I thought we were getting along?, you don’t wanna get me mad princess..”

Your breathing accelerates, adrenaline pumping into your veins. As she Hoover over you, you manage to set a punch as she straddles back.

“get away from me !”

I waited on the corner till I saw the sitter leave.

Was easy getting over.

And I landed on my feet.

You scream hoping someone would come for your rescue, Valeria backing up from you finally when you see her walking to the kitchen, confused you stare at her not knowing what to do.

I came in through the kitchen.

Looking for something to eat.

As she comes back to you she grins, you hear some commotion outside, honking in general.

“My rides here… but you can call me if you change you mind sweetheart.”

She finally said as she caressed my lips, final look as she went through the front door and disappeared in the darkness.

I left a calling card so they.

Would know that it was me.

[furuyalover]

4:52 pm

— ft. kuroo tetsurou

includes: a cute lil impromptu study date

it’s april and we all know what that means, finals season. right now it’s just you, your laptop, numerous papers and notebooks, and an iced matcha latte enveloping you in the cozy cafe atmosphere. you’re trying study for your calculus test tomorrow and you’re pretty focused, for the most part.

about ten minutes ago you glance up from your studies where you notice a familiar face across the cafe, kuroo tetsurou. while you’re decently close with your classmate and you’ve made conversation with him numerous times, you figured both of you are too busy with your work for you to approach him right now. however you can’t seem to get the striking captain out of your head. you’ve always had an admiration for him but some would say it’s more like a crush… so after a solid 15 minutes of pretending to do work and pondering what to do, you finally decide to maybe shoot him a text!

y/n: hey am i tripping or is there an obnoxious volleyball player studying across from me?

kuroo: obnoxious is a strong word 😒 u also studying for the calc test? 😭

y/n: kind of …. not doin too hot rn

kuroo: oh well you’re in luck then

and just like that you glance up from your screen and notice him begin to gather his things and make his way towards you. the middle blocker plops himself down on a seat next to you and begins unpacking his bag. “don’t worry princess im here to save you from your calc demons.” your flutters a little at the sudden nickname, but you keep your composure with a quick retort “ok woah im not doing THAT bad.” “then why is your study guide blank?” damn, he got you there. “whatever you gonna help me or what?” since he’s a man of his word he opens his notebook helping you review what you’ve learned these past classes, and working you through each problem better than khan academy ever could. he’s concise but sweet, making sure to comfort you every time you’re overwhelmed or not sure how to solve a problem. you’ve never seen this side of him, you’re used to dealing with his cockiness and sarcasm and this caring demeanor is something new to you.

but just like that an hour and a half has gone by and you’ve both successfully gotten through all your homework! where did all the time go? you wondered to yourself. embarrassingly, you’re kind of upset that you’re study sesh has come to an end. you’ve always wanted to go out with kuroo outside of class, and this is the closest you’re ever gonna get to that. “oh well all good things must come to an end” kuroo says, almost defeated you thank him for all his help while you start packing your things.

“actually wait before you go,” you stop what you’re doing to look up at him, wondering what he possibly need. surely he’s just gonna ask about something from class right? wrong. hes flustered. almost red even. scratching the back of his neck he finally looks at you and says “i really enjoyed hanging out with you, and i just wondered if you wanted to do this again sometime?” you’ve never seen him so nervous before, so you let out a small smile with a slightly confused look on your face. “what, like study?” your smile ends up giving him reassurance and just like that his confident demeanor is back. he grabs your hand and says “well that’d be a pretty boring date don’t ya think?” grinning before placing a chaste kiss on your hand.

you look down to try and hide the rosy blush that now plastered your face (too late he already saw it). flustered by his sudden advance you look up and match his confidence arrogance with your own. “alright then, but if i don’t get an A on this test im rejecting you”

“oh like that’s ever gonna happen” you roll your eyes, but he has a point.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

AN: ahhh this was so fun to write <3 love love loveee writing some friends/classmates to lovers drabbles !! hope u guys enjoyed this lil piece i whipped up :)

[hyuckwrlds]

>> caught up

wc: 1.6k you win some you lose some

There are three moments that Jisung will always regret in his life, no matter how hard he tries to forget them. In no particular order, those things are:

Letting Chenle give him a bowl cut before freshman orientation

Sitting with Jaemin during the Calc 122 final (their tests got flagged for cheating)

Meeting you (this might actually be the worst one)

Sure, he knows things could be even worse. In fact, he was really close to peeing himself in his organic chemistry lab once. But even that would be more favorable than his biggest regret���the day he met you.

That day, he’s working a shift at the student store when Chenle suddenly turns to him, gesturing to the tour of prospective students standing outside the glass doors.

“The next group that comes,” he begins, spinning the register keys around a finger. “Over or under fifteen people?”

Jisung snorts; surely the answer is obvious. “Over.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve literally never seen a group with less than fifteen people.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

Jisung snickers, already sensing success. “Bet.”

That was his first mistake.

Because soon enough, the next group arrives and he’s watching, mortified, as Chenle counts a total of fourteen people. Jisung was merely two bodies shy of a victory.

Next thing he knows, he’s trudging out of the storage room in a poorly-ventilated costume of the school’s beloved mascot: Neo, an oversized wolf in a neon green jersey. 

Chenle immediately bursts into a fit of laughter, earning a few stares from the freshmen nearby. Jisung considers smothering him right then and there. His next mistake was not doing that.

“Dude, this thing smells,” he gripes, voice muffled by the large head.

“Yeah,” Chenle agrees, clearly amused. “I don’t think anyone has ever washed that thing.”

Jisung winces at the thought. Then through the perforated plastic eyes, he catches Jaemin barrel into the store, undoubtedly arriving on behalf of Chenle’s erratic texts in their group chat. His face lights up once he sees the giant wolf figure.

“Oh, aren’t you cute?” Jaemin grins, nearly slamming his gym bag into someone’s mom as he makes his way over.

In response, Jisung tries his best to fold his paw into a middle finger.

“Ah—speaking of, I passed by another tour group on the way here,” Jaemin adds. “I think it’s only right that our lovely mascot goes outside to greet them.”

He reaches up to tug at the fake ears and Jisung swats his hands away, scowling behind his mask.

“I’m not doing that,” he groans.

But he stood no chance against the two of them. Chenle and Jaemin easily wrestle Jisung into going outside. They end up (quite literally) having to drag him out the doors and he blames all the time Jaemin spends at the gym.

Now standing at the top of the front steps, he’s held captive by a firm grip around each furry arm. The warmth (and smell) of the suit is starting to get to him so in hindsight, he kind of wants to get it over with as fast as possible. If he can just wave at the group then leave, it'll be fine. It’s not as if anyone will know it’s him anyway.

All of that changes though, once he sees you round the corner.

Fitted in that bright green ‘tour guide’ jacket, Jisung feels his knees buckle as you lead your group towards the store. 

He blanches. “You’ve gotta be kidding—”

There’s a desperate attempt to wiggle away from his friends but it only causes them to hold on tighter, their fingers pressing into the glossy gray fur. Chenle makes it a point to smile widely at him.

“Hey, we can’t have a wolf on the loose when there’s visitors,” he beams.

Jisung’s gonna kill him.

You stop just short of the stairs when you notice their presence, blinking up at Jisung (well, Neo the wolf) in surprise. His heart is pounding in his chest as your eyes flicker between him and his friends.

You’ve shared a few classes with Jisung, and while the two of you have never spoken to each other before, he’s always thought you were pretty (like, really pretty). Meanwhile, he’s not even sure you know his name.

Or that he exists at all.

Beside him, Jaemin coughs out a low, “Wave.”

Hesitantly, Jisung raises his stupidly oversized paw in the air. He can hear you start to tell the story behind the school’s prized mascot but even worse, he can feel Chenle’s hand on his back, pushing him to move closer. Tentatively, Jisung takes a small step forward.

And like the idiot he is, he trips.

With his giant wolf feet, he somehow misses the first step and is sent tumbling to the ground, landing on his stomach as he slides down the concrete stairs. 

This earns a chorus of gasps from you and your group which is soon followed by a stunned silence. He lays still on the ground, frozen under everyone’s stares. Yet that isn’t the most horrifying part.

The worst part was that in the midst of falling, the obscenely large wolf head had come off too.

With his face now smushed into the concrete, Jisung feels the embarrassment coil in the pit of his stomach. He hears someone kneel down beside him.

“Shit, are you okay?” you ask.

Even though the steps were small and the suit had cushioned most of his fall, the lack of a mask meant that he had, in fact, hit his nose at some point. He feels it start to ache. Though the last thing he wants to do right now is face you. He can’t get himself to do it.

Instead, he stays facedown and settles on giving you a thumbs up. You don’t immediately move, so after what feels like an eternity, he hears your shoes shuffle a bit against the pavement. From the corner of his eye, he sees you set down the wolf head beside him. It must’ve rolled away at some point (oh god).

“Jisung…right?”

He stiffens. That might’ve been the worst possible thing that could’ve happened next. He would’ve never expected his name to fall from your mouth and slowly, he lifts head up in humiliation. So much for remaining anonymous.

The sight that greets him, though, could’ve came straight out of a shoujo anime.

Bathed in the afternoon light, you’re hovering over him with knitted brows and a look of concern. He catches you sigh out in relief once his eyes meet yours. Now he’s stuck staring dumbly at you, suddenly at a loss for words. You’re somehow prettier up close.

“You okay?” you ask again, setting a hand on his shoulder.

Jisung is just about to respond when he realizes that his nose is very much going to start bleeding. He quickly pushes himself into a seat and reaches a paw (oh god) to his face. His mouth is uncomfortably dry as he looks at you, nodding sheepishly.

“Y-yeah,” his swallows. “I’m okay.”

Your eyes scan him and his cheeks burn. He looks away, praying you don’t notice how flushed his face probably is.

Unknowingly, you scoot closer. “Are you sure? I can call someone, if you need me to. I’m also First Aid certified.”

He nods again, only to pause at the feeling of blood rushing towards his right nostril and he really can’t risk getting it on the suit. He gives you a bashful look, “Actually…do you have a tissue?”

You smile at the sudden request, laughing softly. “Yeah, I do.”

His heart swoons.

Reaching into your tour guide backpack, you take out a packet of tissues, sliding one out before handing it to him. As best as he could, he presses it against his nose with the stupid paw. You help him stand back up.

“Thanks,” he breathes, giving you a small nod. 

“Yeah, no problem,” you say. “I didn’t know you were the mascot.”

“I’m not,” he admits, nodding towards the two idiots behind him. “I lost a bet.”

This earns another dazzling laugh from you. “Okay, good. I think you look better without the fursuit anyway.”

He blinks at you and suddenly, it’s your turn to blush, waving your hands frantically in the air. “N-not that you don’t look good in the costume. Because you do. You always do. I, um, I just meant that—you know...”

Your words falter and honestly, Jisung is still stunned that you think he looks good at all. He lets out a small laugh, one short and airy to ease you.

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “I know what you mean. Thanks.”

You pause for a split second then, looking up at him as if there’s something more you want to say. Only, your attention is snatched once you seem to remember the unfinished tour waiting for you. You look from the group back to him and take a step back. 

“I gotta go.”

With his free hand, he gives you wave, still a bit dazed. “Oh, right. See ya.”

Though just before you leave, you meet his gaze, adding a quick, “I’ll save you a seat in class tomorrow, yeah?”

He stills. This can’t be real. His pulse picks up again, thrumming against his ribcage.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” he stutters, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll see you then.”

You resume your tour and Jisung turns to head back inside, but not without first smacking both Jaemin and Chenle with the stupid wolf head in hand. Even then, he’s undoubtedly smiling like an idiot.

So sure, while Jisung may always regret the way he met you, he can’t really say he’d change a single thing about it either.

After all, it brought him to you.

[obligatoryidolblog]

Rewards (Park Seonghwa - Ateez)

Genre: smut

Pairing: Seonghwa/reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, oral (m receiving)

Summary: Park Seonghwa, your university crush, was a dance major and not a damn thing else, it seemed. But now you could add another descriptor… virgin? Not for long, if you had anything to say about it.

A/N: This is a complete rewrite and rework of a fic I posted before.

Masterlist

Audiobook version above.

“You’re never going to believe this,” your friend hissed, sliding into the seat next to you at your favorite coffee shop. 

Nudging her backpack under the table with your toe as her boyfriend dropped to the bench across from you, you replied, “What? Did you actually manage to talk your calc professor into letting you skip the midterm?”

Poking her lower lip out, your friend huffed, “Nothing that amazing. At least for me.”

Her eyes turned teasing again, and you chuckled at the ever bouncing moods of your best friend as she went on, “But for you, this should be monumental.”

Raising an eyebrow, you waited patiently through her dramatic pause. She grinned, reveling in her moment, then leaned in conspiratorially. 

“Your little crush? He’s, and I know we are shocked,” she said in an exaggerated stage whisper, “a virgin.”

“Babe,” her boyfriend groaned from across the table, looking up from his phone, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that, and I sure didn’t  mean for you to tell the whole world. Hwa’s a good guy, don’t make fun of him.”

Distantly, you heard her telling him that she wasn’t making fun, but their words were coming in thin through a haze of static consuming your rational brain. Park Seonghwa was a dancer and not a damn thing else, it seemed. But now you could add another descriptor… virgin? Shit . Goddamn you, and goddamn your friend for telling you this, because you could feel a building thrum of need in your core at this knowledge. 

You’d noticed him the first time when your friend had dragged you along to watch her boyfriend’s dance practice. As your friend sank into taking a million pictures of her boyfriend, you watched the tall mystery figure practice with an intensity that set him apart from the rest of the team. His long legs, the sheen of sweat on his broad shoulders when he pulled his shirt over his head, shaking his hair out of his face… it all held you mesmerized. 

From that day forward, you’d tried to find out everything you could about Park Seonghwa from your admittedly rather large and gossipy social circle, to no avail. All you’d been able to find out was that he was attending your university on a dance scholarship, he was in your year, and he didn’t socialize much. According to your friend’s boyfriend, Seonghwa spent pretty much all of his time on dance. Apparently even to the exclusion of getting laid, if your friend was right in her proclamation. 

“How’d you even find this out,” you finally asked, interrupting the couple at your table.

Your friend rolled her eyes and huffed, “I overheard my sweet boyfriend here talking to Hwa on the phone today.”

“And you were discussing his virginity?�� you asked incredulously, turning to her boyfriend who grinned sheepishly. 

“Not really,” he groaned, dropping his head into his folded arms, his muffled voice continuing, “I was calling to check on him because he twisted his ankle and had to go to the clinic. They were doing the intake questionnaire and my dumb ass had the phone on speaker next to Ms. Nosy when they asked if he was sexually active.”

At this your friend cut in triumphantly, “And Ms. Nosy here heard it directly from the man himself. He’s a virgin, just waiting for you to defile him.”

Your friend’s tone was teasing, and you know she didn’t mean those words literally, but the dampness collecting in your panties at the thought of leading Seonghwa into the world of sexual exploration was telling. Shifting in your seat, you pictured the way he would look under you, fucked out and falling apart from his first time, how he’d buck into your mouth, cursing at the overwhelming new sensations of your heat surrounding his cock… 

“Earth to _____,” your friend broke into your fantasies, waving a hand in front of your face, “Stop fantasizing about dancer boy and keep up. When are you going to make a move on the poor guy?”

“The minute I can catch him out of the damn studio,” you muttered, crashing back from your imagination, “meaning never, I guess.”

The man across from you snorted and cut in, “Good luck with that. I practically had to threaten to kick him off the dance team and remind him he’ll lose his scholarship just to get him to take the time to set up tutoring sessions for the stupid bio class that he’s failing. Hwa is single-minded as hell.”

This caught your attention, and you quickly sat up, asking, “Wait, he needs a biology tutor?”

Your friend jumped in, immediately catching the direction your mind took, “Oh, this is perfect! Our little _____ here took bio last year and was an ace at it. Hook a bitch up!”

You turned begging eyes to the man across from you, who ran an exasperated hand through his hair and retorted, “I want him to actually pass the class, not just have his v-card taken.”

Holding a hand up in quick promise, you chimed in, “I swear, I’ll tutor him! He’ll pass!”

“ Then she’ll fuck him dumb,” your friend added, snickering.

Snorting, her boyfriend shot back, “Okay, I’ll set it up. Honestly, I don’t know if you can get Hwa’s mind off of his scholarship long enough to get his dick hard anyways.”

You ignored the jab, too excited to finally have the singular attention of Park Seonghwa, but your friend replied, “Please. That boy has to be so backed up he’ll cum in his pants the minute _____ touches him.”

“Wanna make a bet,” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes, knowing that your friend could never pass up a bet and her boyfriend knew that and used it to his advantage.

“Guys, please,” you tried to cut in, but it was a lost cause and you knew it. 

“Bet. _____ gets in his pants within two tutoring sessions,” your friend challenged, sticking her hand across the table. 

Her boyfriend took her hand, shaking it, asking, “Terms?”

You jumped up, knowing the terms of their bets were usually fairly explicit, cutting in, “Okay and on that note I’m out. Let me know when he is free for tutoring and give him my number.”

Striding out of the coffee shop, you started making plans. You intended to make damn sure your friend won her bet. 

***

[Unknown Number]: Hi, is this _____?

Your heart raced. There it was. Seonghwa had texted you only minutes after the text you’d received from your friend that her boyfriend had set you up as the bio tutor. You quickly shot back an affirmative reply. 

[Seonghwa]: Thanks so much for the help. I have practice everyday except Sunday evening. Are you free sometime then?

There was a party that night, but you would happily miss it for this. You set up a time for that Sunday evening, and gave him directions to your apartment. It was going to be a long week of waiting. 

***

Sunday dawned, days of fantasizing and wearing your vibrator batteries down past, you set the scene. There was a roar between your legs as you showered, but you saved the orgasm, letting the tension in your loins build. You pulled on a nice, lacy bra and matching panties, then topped it with an unassuming pairing of a t-shirt and running shorts. Taking a look at the scene set in your living room, you gave yourself a pat on the back. 

The couch was the perfect mix of innocent setting and soft surface. The spread of art supplies across the small dining table should keep him from trying to move to the more formal, less intimate setting of the kitchen. Nodding, you checked your phone. Seonghwa should be there at any minute, and you were buzzing with excitement. All year you had been fantasizing about this guy. Finally you would have his attention. 

Just as you were letting your mind wander, there was a knock at your front door. A predatory grin spread across your lips as you ran a hand through your hair and approached the door. Pulling it open, you felt the lust in your loins roar louder. The tall man looked down at you with a shy smile, and you reveled in the quick flick of his eyes down your body before meeting your eyes. 

Yep. You were going to fuck this guy.

***

Seonghwa felt his stomach flip as the door opened to reveal his new tutor. 

Shit. It was _____. That _____. He was going to kill his team captain.

For almost the entire year he had been watching you. You’d been showing up to dance practice, hanging out with the girlfriend of the team captain. Bouncing around campus with your popular friend in your cute outfits, showing the smooth skin to the world that was on display right now for his eyes. His heart sped as he wet his suddenly dry lips and stepped in as you greeted him and welcomed him into your apartment. 

You spun to lead him to a cozy looking couch, and he followed in a daze, his eyes glued to your ass that was barely covered by the pair of shorts that hugged you in the most damning ways. Feeling his face flush, he tried his damnedest to slow the rush of hormones that made his cock begin to swell. Embarrassed by his visceral reaction, he sat on the far end of the couch from you, quickly pulling his backpack to his lap, shifting uncomfortably. 

This is why he focused on dance and avoided girls. His inexperience had reached a level of awkward so insurmountable that he just threw himself into the one thing he knew he was good at. Meeting your eyes finally, he tried valiantly to stop blushing. A smile curled your lips, and he bit his lip, finally seeing that smile directed at him. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck . 

“So where are you needing help in bio?” you asked, and he tried to reign in the blood rushing from his brain to his face and his cock long enough to make a coherent response. 

“I just… I’m kind of bad at all of it?” he babbled, looking down shyly. 

A hand landed on his knee, and he jerked, looking to see you smiling at him. That did nothing to calm his pulse. Your hand was warm and he wanted nothing more than to feel it all over his body. Shit, he had to calm down, and he couldn’t do that with you touching him, even so innocently. 

“It’s okay, Hwa,” you said playfully, and he nearly moaned at the sound of his name coming from your lips, “We will make sure you pass.”

Shifting, he looked down at the bag in his lap and murmured, “Thank you. I’m just useless at this. I’m good at dance and not much else.”

There was a pause, then your hand on his knee slowly slid up and he snapped his wide eyes up to meet yours as you replied slowly, “I’m sure you’re good at lots of things. You just need the right… motivation.”

Swallowing, he tried not to read too much into your words, but you continued on, leaning in, your smile turning slightly darker, sending his pulse racing as you went on, “Let’s see if I can motivate you to learn, Seonghwa.”

You gently took the bag from his lap, setting it to the floor next to him and scooting closer. He sat frozen, his gaze glued to your form as you settled in, your bare leg pressing against his jeans now, your mesmerizing eyes holding him still as he felt dizzy. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he knew that he wanted you closer to him. Through the haze of want, he noted that your smile turned predatory. 

“How about this,” you murmured, leaning closer, “If you can pass the mock quiz at the end of this tutoring session, I’ll give you a reward.”

His throat was dry, making his faint words raspy as he asked slowly, “What reward?”

Looking down, you smiled, then flicked your eyes up to his once more with a teasing curl of your lips as you squeezed his thigh and replied, “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

***

It had been the longest, most tense hour of your life. Tutoring Seonghwa was the most difficult test of your patience, especially with how responsive he was to you. From the first moment you caught the sight of his tenting jeans when he sat on your couch, you knew. He was yours. You were going to wreck this boy. 

His voice shook as he repeated the answers you’d gone over with him, and you nodded encouragingly, trailing your fingers over the back of his hand. He stumbled over his words, and you chuckled, taking his hand in yours. Meeting his eyes, you smiled, turning to face him fully. 

“Very good. That’s it, Hwa. You got them all right,” you murmured, pulling his hand to lay it on your thigh, watching his eyes widen. 

His palm was sweaty on your skin, and his cheeks flushed again as he asked, “So then… my reward?”

Laying your hand over his, you slid his palm up your thigh to the hem of your shorts, saying, “Hmmm, you did earn it. What would you like, Hwa?”

He swallowed heavily and you tried not to laugh in victory as he fumbled with his words, his eyes darting across your body. Shifting your thigh so that his hand laying on it slipped between your legs, you leaned in.

“Come on, Seonghwa, you’ve been so good this whole time. There must be something you want,” you teased, loving how he squirmed next to you.

“I…” he stammered, “I don’t… I mean- look, I don’t know if I’m misreading this or-”

Giggling, you spared his fumbling by pressing your lips to his. His hand gripped your inner thigh in surprise, and you moaned gently into the kiss, tilting your head to deepen it. His breathing was fast as you cupped his face in your hands. Pulling away, you met his eyes, watching for any hesitancy. 

“Wow,” he breathed out, his eyes still closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, “I’ve wanted to do that all evening.”

“Can I show you what I’ve wanted to do all year? ” you murmured, squeezing his hand between your thighs. 

His eyes snapped open in wonder, and he slowly nodded. That was all the consent you needed. Whipping your shirt off to reveal the lacy bra you wore beneath it, you swooped yourself over him, straddling his hips, hands threading into his hair. You had a momentary view of his shocked expression before you claimed his lips once more. Grinding down, you finally got a feel of the impressive bulge he’d been sporting all evening as you’d teased him throughout the tutoring session. 

Jesus, his dick was big. Thick, possibly a gentle curve to it, and fucking long. Slowly, you began to rock atop him, and his hands seemed to flutter around you, not knowing where to land as you worked him through a deep, domineering kiss. Tugging gently at his hair, you savored the sound of his moan as his hands finally landed on your ass, squeezing gently. Rutting against his bulge, you moaned into the kiss and felt him twitch beneath you. 

Pulling back, you trailed kisses down his jaw to suck a mark into his neck, and he hissed out, “Fuck, _____, fuck… I should tell you… I’ve never-”

Sitting up, you unhooked your bra, silencing him effectively, and you cupped his face once more, drawing him towards your lips, saying, “That’s okay, Hwa. I’ll teach you.”

This time his kiss was feverish, his hands flying up to grip your breasts, thumbs flicking at the pearled peaks before you broke from his lips, arching your back in offering before his lips latched onto one of your nipples. 

“Fuck, Hwa, just like that,” you moaned, reveling in the whimper he gave at your words, lost in the taste of your skin. 

The wetness between your legs had soaked through your panties and shorts, beginning to wet the long bulge in his jeans. The friction on your clit wasn’t enough though, so you pulled Seonghwa’s head back, relishing how he tried to chase after your skin, lost in the sensation of you. Standing, you smiled reassuringly at the worried look on his face, and you hooked your fingers in the waist of your shorts and panties, tugging them off. 

You allowed him a moment to take in the sight of you naked before him, his wide eyes sweeping over your form before you waved a hand to him, saying, “Shirt off, Hwa.”

He sat frozen for a moment until you cocked a brow at him, causing him to scramble to rip his shirt over his head. Licking your lips as you were distracted for a long moment by the view of his chiseled form and the sheen of sweat gracing the skin that you had dreamed of running your tongue over for months now. Dropping to your knees before him, you tugged the button of his jeans open, his breathing sped as he shifted, sinking deeper into the couch, adjusting his hips as you slid the zipper down and reached in to wrap your fingers around his thick length, drawing out his leaking cock. 

You took a moment to appreciate the beauty of his dick, the red tip leaking precum, the veins running up his shaft, the upward sweeping curve. Before you could stop yourself, you ran your tongue out to circle the tip and Seonghwa’s fingers slid into your hair, gripping it tightly, softly whispered curses falling from his lips, causing your wetness to begin to slide down your inner thigh. You took the tip in your mouth, suckling gently, and his breathing became choked. 

“Shit, _____, I can’t” he babbled, lost in the sensations of your mouth on his cock, “please, I can’t-”

Pulling off of him, pressing kisses down the shaft, you let him pull you back onto his lap with his trembling hands. Taking in the jerking twitches of his length and the sheen of sweat on his chest, you straddled him once more, and took one of his hands, drawing it to your core.

“Let me show you how much I want you,” you murmured, meeting his eyes and holding them with a salacious smile. 

Running his fingers over your folds, you threw your head back, moaning along with him as you wet his fingers. Slipping his fingers over your clit, you showed him how you liked it, just the right pressure. You ground your hips against his hand, moaning his name and finding him watching you in wonder. Breath coming quickly now, you leaned in to capture his lips once more as you slipped his fingers to your opening. He slid them in and you gripped his hair once more, letting him tentatively slide in and out of you, your juices pooling in his hand, coating his fingers as you rode them. 

When the pads of his fingers brushed over your spot, you rewarded him with a deep moan, clenching around his fingers. He moaned shakily into the kiss, his fingers jerking inside you. Raising off of them, you licked your lips, meeting his eyes once more as you gripped the base of his cock and adjusted yourself to hover over it. 

“Tell me you want it,” you murmured, teasing the tip across your opening, letting the heat and wetness collect on him. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, he breathed out reverently, “Please, _____. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

That was all you needed. Sinking on him, you bit your lip, eyes trying to fall shut at the stretch of him filling you up, but keeping your eyes on him, watching how his fluttered shut, his head falling back as you took him to the hilt. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned softly, “You feel- god, _____, you are incredible.”

Settling for a moment with him deep inside you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him slowly, deeply, the urgency gone now that you finally had him buried deep inside you. One of his hands gripped your ass once more while the other trailed up your spine to tangle into your hair. As his lips slid down to your neck, you began to ride him, your head spinning at the heavy slide of his thickness inside you. 

His breathing stuttered against your skin as you moaned softly, “Oh my god, Hwa, you fill me up so well.”

His hips began to thrust up, meeting your slow, sinuous riding, speeding you with his neediness. He flopped back against the back of the couch, his hands moving to grip your hips as he thrust up harder, watching you ride him. The fucked out expression on his face had you tightening around his thick length, watching the way his back arched as he tried to gain more speed. 

“You want to cum in me, baby?” you murmured against his lips, leaning forward to get a better angle, speeding atop him and raining kisses over his jawline, “Fill me up and fuck it into me while I cum on your cock?”

A high pitched whimper escaped him at your words, the meaning sinking in and causing him to snap his hips up into you hard and fast, the new rhythm and the angle of his head slamming into your spot bringing you to the edge. That coupled with the way he arched, hissing out pleas brought your hand down to your clit, wanting to squeeze around him and milk every bit of cum out of him. 

“Shit, I’m not gonna last,” he gasped, his grip on your hips bruising, eyes wildly searching your face for permission which you immediately granted him. 

“Do it, baby,” you hissed, feeling your own orgasm right on the bridge at his desperation to cum and the way his dick twitched inside you, “cum in me…”

Throwing his head back, Seonghwa growled out a curse, slamming you down on him and grinding you on his cock as he jerked, hot seed erupting from him to fill you. The sensation threw you over the edge and you cried out his name as you clamped down around him, your clenching sheathe milking him dry. When the last quake of pleasure was wrung from you, you fell forward across his chest, gasping for breath and pressing gentle, sleepy kisses up to his lips. 

“Wow,” he breathed out again, a satisfied smile creeping over his lips as he lazily opened an eye to peer down at you, “That was- wow.”

Giggling breathlessly, you nodded, agreeing, “Yes it was. Are you okay?”

Wrapping his arms around you, he laughed softly and replied with a kiss to your hair, “Never better. I guess I should thank you.”

Raising a brow up at him, you giggled, “You can thank me with an actual date?”

His eyes widened, and he paused, then laughed happily, hugging you tightly, “Deal.”

[whoistartaglia]

it was just your luck that al haitham happened to be the only one on the fourth floor of the library when you arrived, laptop and notebook in hand. 

you looked at him; he, at you. 

“what are you doing here?” he demanded. 

“this is a library,” you snapped, chosing to sit at the farthest table from his. “i’m here to study.”

and study… is what you tried to do. after only thirty minutes, your notebook was scrawled with crossed out work and wrong answers to problems and one too many question marks. your midterm was tomorrow and you were not ready. not in the slightest. 

you sighed in frustration when your computer, in bold red letters, said your solution was wrong for what felt like the thousandth time. 

al haitham looked at you. “what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing,” you said off-handedly, your focus on the problem in front of you. you didn’t even notice when al haitham moved to sit next to you. 

“that doesn’t seem like nothing,” he said. you looked up, about to tell him off, but was caught off-guard at the look in his eyes. 

his stare was intense, like he was analyzing you, trying to pick you apart like you were your calculus problems. 

“i just… don’t get series,” you found yourself confessing. 

al haitham was silent for a while, and you thought the conversation was over. turning back to your laptop, you scrolled to find a new practice problem, yet before you could write it down, al haitham finally spoke again. 

“i can help you,” al haitham said. your head snapped back towards him. he mildly added, “if you want, of course.”

“i…” you hesitated. did al haitham just offer to help you? you, of all people?

“you…?” al haitham asked after you sat there, staring at him with your mouth slightly agape. 

“i… you— you know how to find series?” you asked, coming out of your stupor. “my class just started them and no one can do them.”

“you’re in calc two,” he said. then shrugged. “i’m in calc three.”

a pause. and then another pause. and then—

“you’re in calc three?” you exploded. “but you’re a freshman too— what? how?”

“i took some courses in high school,” al haitham said. “but nevermind that.”

he tapped your notebook, and you looked down at the ugly, scribbed mess of numbers—what was left of a taylor series—he was pointing to. 

“your mistake—although easy to make—messed up your entire solution,” al haitham said. gesturing to another disaster of eraser makes and graphite smudges, “this one you just… did wrong. there’s no other way to say it.”

you glared at him. “i didn’t say i needed your help.”

“so you don’t want it?”

“i didn’t say that either,” you grumbled. 

you snatched your pencil off the table and slowly began going over your work and fixing your mistakes, al haitham guiding you the entire time. you had to admit, studying like this was rather pleasant. nice, even. 

it made you think that maybe al haitham wasn’t so bad after all.

you thought things were going well, until the end of your study session. 

almost three in the morning, al haitham leaned back in his chair after you got another problem wrong. you had another crying session after the initial one, and al haitham had been encourging. but now he only looked contemplative. 

“should i do another like that one?” you asked, already searching for similar example on your laptop. maybe if you just did one more problem, you would get it right—

“[name].” you looked up. al haitham was sitting forward now, and he gently shut your laptop down. with a sincerity you had never seen before, he said very softly, “i think it’s best we end here for tonight.”

“oh… do you think i’m ready for tomorrow then?”

al haitham pursed his lips. “you’re as ready as i’m able to get you tonight.”

you looked down at your lap, reading between the lines of what he wasn’t telling you. 

“you think i’m going to fail.”

“i think… i think you just need some rest.” al haitham stood. “come on. i’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

you stared down at your notebook. a part of you wanted to stay here and continue studying, but the smarter part of you knew that, like all the other several times tonight, al haitham was right. you needed sleep, badly. and so with a heavy sigh, you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit behind you. 

“thank you,” you said when you and al haitham were out of the library. “i... umm. i appreciated your help. even if it was unexpected.”

“yeah, well. if you dropped out, things wouldn’t be as… fun around here,” he said. under his breath, he mumbled, “although, i’m not convinced you still won’t.”

you ignored that last comment. “does this mean you don’t totally hate me?”

al haitham was silent for a while. you thought to repeat the question, until he replied, so quietly you had to strain to hear it, “i never did.”

[hiddenlife-manager]

Jouno Saigiku Punishment

Dom Jouno Saigiku x Fem reader

Extra: Harsh, degrading, dom and sub, dom jouno, sub Fem reader, blood, dub con, rope restraint, ass slapping, bruising, and more

Authors Note: Hello! Am I gonna be more active yeah. I just signed up for my fall classes and god I hate myself for taking more calc classes but I need it for my dream. But I’ll be more active while working. I also just bought new flared yoga pants I’m so excited.

"God!"  You held onto the rope that held you up, your wrist burning at the rope as tears were present on your pretty face. Another hand came in contact with your left ass cheek, causing a cry to leave your lips as you immediately bit down on your lip to muffle the sound.

"This is what you get for coming in late." A voice whispered into your ear, keeping his warm breath against your ear. Your body shook at his closeness, and quickly you spewed out an apology.

"I’m sorry, sir. I won’t let it happen again." He laughed at your weak figure, his one earring ringing as he moved his head away from you. Everything stung, and you were in immense pain. Your wrist burned, your fingers stung as they held onto the rope, your legs shook trying to hold your body up, your ass was in so much pain that the redness was ever so visible, and your neck felt random pains shoot through it. Bruises covered your body while you held two purple bruises from his hands on your neck.

"You were never cut out to work with us." You cried as his hand once more came in contact with your ass. The tears streamed down your chin and hit against the floorboards. Everything he said was true; you truly weren’t cut out to work with them. You simply got lucky, and in the end, the luck got you here. Getting punished by your red-tipped superior "You’re nothing but a dirty whore begging to be fucked; you’re dripping just by being punished."

His cock was out the entire time, him occasionally pumping at his cock to satisfy his needs. His treatment of you was horrendous and this was light to him, he wanted to whip you till you bled and he changed his mind. Right before he landed the whip on you. 

"Your heartbeat, you want this?" 

His hands slid down your reddened cheeks and opened your ass open. He could help but to chuckle at you being tied up and enjoying this. He never thought of having a relationship with anyone and you made him change his mind to a purely sexual relationship where he likes to punish them seem plausible. 

"I’m so sensitive, how about it?" He chuckled, grabbing your head and turning it. "You wouldn’t care, you want me to do whatever I please." You whimpered at the sudden end of the ass slap and nodded. 

Jouno, wait." You breathed out as he positioned his twitching cock at your entrance. 

"You’re a virgin, we all know." He stuck his cock harshly into your sopping cunt, his hips hitting your ass. A whimper left you while your head lifted up at the fullness you felt. Your arms rigged at the restraints attempting to get away from the pleasure and pain you felt. You rocked your hip slightly trying to get him deeper into you, his groans echoed in your ear as he held onto your hips tightly digging his nails into you.

Your gummy walls molded to fit his slender cock as it twitched in you your cries left louder than before. He was sensitive, wanting nothing to bottom into your cunt. He was drunk off of you and just enjoyed the cries of pain that left your lips. His mouth bit that back of your neck forcing blood out of the wound as he sucked in it causing your body to clench on his cock. 

"Jouno!" He bit into you tighter as you cried his last name, he whispered once more. 

"Sir, to you." You whimpered a sound of agreement and finally started to move your hips up to fuck you faster, you were desperate and in need of his cock. You were close and he could tell from how tightly you held his cock, he wrapped thrusted into you and in only seconds his sensitive cock came in your cunt thrust into you harder than before to force it deeper into you. His body shook as you finally fell letting the rope hold you up by your wrist, he held your body keeping you up as he kept himself in you. 

He pulled out and there his cum and blood pooled out of you dripping onto the floor loudly. Breathing heavily he walks away from you grabbing onto a towel. 

"You smell repulsive." He muttered holding onto the towel, cleaning himself off. "You’re a Hunting Dog, get yourself out." He walked away leaving you in pain and shaking.

[fanficsformyfaves]

Hallway Crush

Kirby Reed x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Hickeys, FLUFF, Mutual Pining

PREFACE: Reader has always had a crush on Kirby, but what she didn't know was that the feelings were mutual

A/N: I'm appalled by the lack of stories for my wife

As if today didn't start off shitty enough with me being late, I completely forgot my laptop on the kitchen island.

"Are you fucking serious?", I whisper to myself,

Before zipping up my backpack and slightly slamming my car door closed. I start walking towards the building, when I get ambushed by Robbie and Charlie. I let out a surprised gasp and clutch at my chest.

"What's your favorite scary movie?", Charlie questions,

Pathetically attempting the Ghostface voice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?", I scold,

Shoving past the two and making my to the front doors.

"You look good, (Y/N)!", I hear Charlie call out to me,

To which a return the favor with a middle finger.

"Oof, harsh", Robbie mocks,

Watching me walk away.

"Completely uninterested in your existence"

"No, man, she wants me", Charlie replied,

Unashamed of his delusion.

I finally make it inside and head straight for my locker. I take out the books I needed for my first class and shut it close.

"(Y/N)", I hear a familiar voice call out to me,

I turn and felt my heart drop to my stomach. I had a crush on Kirby Reed since I first moved here. From her blonde locks to her piercing eyes and rosy lips, it was next to impossible for me to think straight with her around.

I eventually snap out of my haze and look around to make sure she was actually speaking to me. I point to myself and she chuckles.

"Unless there's another (Y/N) I'm unaware of, then yes, I'm talking to you", she reassures,

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and walk towards her.

"Hi"

"Hi", she greeted sweetly,

I smile nervously, pulling up the strap of my bag that was slipping off.

"What are you up to tonight?", she asks,

"Um, just studying. The calc quiz is coming up and I wanna make sure I ace it"

"Oh, pretty and smart. Good combo", she compliments,

Looking me up and down. I could feel my cheeks heat up at her comment.

"Thanks"

"Jill and I are having a party tonight and I was just wondering if you'd like to come"

I hesitate for a moment.

"Well-"

"But, if you're busy, I totally get it-"

"No!"

My suddeness catching her off-guard.

"I mean, I don't...have to study"

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"It's more of a refresher thing, but, I could always just skip it"

"Ooh, I like bad girls", she teases,

Was she trying to make me explode? Cause god-damn, she didn't need to try very hard.

"Sooo, I'll see you tonight? Eight thirty?"

"Yes", I replied,

Holding back a squeal that was fighting to escape me.

"Great. See you there", she bids farewell,

Walking off.

Did that actually just happen? Or did the crush I had on her for months finally start getting to me? Either way, I was definitely going to that party to find out.

~

The second school was over, I rushed home and immediately started getting ready. I showered, did my hair, make up and picked out an outfit that would definitely get her attention. I settled on a maroon bell sleeve top that perfectly showcased what it needed to, low waist jeans and converse.

Once I did a purse check, I head out and got in my car. I knew I got the right address, when I saw all the people hanging out on the front lawn. That and the loud music I could hear from the inside of my car.

Taking in one last deep breath, I parked and got out. With each step I took towards the house, my heart started beating faster and faster. The moment I opened the front door, I was instantly faced with a sea of people from school.

Being a freshman, I didn't know that many people yet, especially the seniors, who I was now surrounded by. I didn't particularly enjoy big crowds, so it came as no shock when I felt my anxiety kick it into high-gear. Maybe I should just go home-

"(Y/N)!"

Fuck, too late.

I carefully turn around and see Kirby nodding her head at me from the couch with Jill and Olivia.

"Come on", she says over the loud music,

I walk over to them and the three girls scoot over to make room for me.

"Glad you didn't skip out on me", she teased,

As I took a seat next to her.

"Of course not", I replied,

Shaking my head. She smiles and sips from her drink. All I could focus on were her lips and the way the wrapped around the cup. The same blush spreading across my face as before.

"You look really good", she says,

Dragging her eyes up and down my body, as I fought back a scream.

"You know, we've passed each other in the halls a bunch of times, but we've never actually spoken before...why?", she questioned,

It's not like I could've just admitted about being madly in love with her.

"I'm just naturally shy", I opt for the less embarrassing response,

"Well...you have no reason to be", she replied,

Raking her eyes up and down my frame once more, as I held back another scream that almost found its way out of me.

We spent the next hour just talking and stumbled upon our shared love for horror movies.

"Okay okay"

"Hm?"

"What the fuck is up that Chucky doll?", I ask,

Making Kirby almost spit her drink back out from laughing.

"Sorry!", I exclaimed,

Taking a napkin and wiping the corner of her mouth.

"It's okay, you're just really funny"

She looks back at me and it was only then did I realize just how close we had gotten. Inches barely keeping us apart.

"Boo! Get a room!", Olivia teased,

Causing us both to look over at them, whilst Jill burst out into laughter. Kirby shakes her head and turns her attention back to me.

"Ignore them"

I smile and discard of the used napkin.

"Well, I definitely need a refill, wanna come?", she questioned,

"Sure"

We navigate our way through the drunken crowd and found ourselves at the kitchen island.

"Want some?"

"Oh, I can't. I'm driving myself home"

That's when she pulls out a carton of fruit juice. I give her a confused look.

"You didn't think I'd be wasted, did you? Someone's gotta keep everyone in check. My parents would kill if me if anything happened to the house", she explained,

Pouring herself a new glass.

"Come on, indulge me", she jokingly challenged,

I grab one for myself and she did the same. I was now hyper-focused on her hands and the way they moved. It made my stomach flutter. I couldn't help, but chew nervously thinking about all the ways they could touch me, ruin me-

"(Y/N)?"

Her words ripping me out of my explicit thoughts.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"You totally spaced just now. What were you thinking about?", she sets her cup down,

Leaning closer towards me.

"Nothing", I say,

She tilts her head, unconvinced. My heart was beating so loud, that it was all I could hear.

"Are you sure?", she pressed on,

Taking my hand in hers.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. From the way she was looking at me to her thumbs rubbing up and down the back of my hand, it all became too much too fast.

Not wanting to prolong the torture any longer, I lean in and finally press my lips against hers, just waiting to see if she would kiss me back. Any doubts that I had left disappeared the moment I felt her free hand grab my waist to pull me in closer. Our lips moving in perfect sync.

It was even better than I could've possibly imagined. It felt like everyone else around us disappeared and we were in our own little world.

Eventually, she pulls away, biting back a smile.

"Finally", she whispered,

Making me chuckle to myself.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that", she admits,

Tucking a lose strand behind my ear. If she only knew. She takes a moment to scan the room, before looking back at me.

"Hopefully, I'm not being too forward, but...would you wanna go somewhere more private?"

I nod and she takes me by the hand, leading me up the stairs and towards her room.

The moment we step foot inside, she pins me to the door, using my body to shut it closed. We pick up right where we left off, only this time, our hands roam each other's bodies. I help her out of her jacket and she tugs at the bottom of my blouse, almost as if to ask for permission to take it off.

"Wait", I exhaled out of breath,

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..."

She gives me a worried expression.

"I've never...like..."

That's when it hit her.

"You're a virgin", she relaxes,

I nod shyly.

"We don't have to do anything, if you're not ready", she reassured,

"No, I am!", I say,

"I just have no idea what I'm doing", I confessed,

She cups my face.

"Do you want me to show you?"

I felt myself melting at how soft she was being with me.

"Yes...please", I pleaded,

"Okay", she smiles,

Continuing to kiss me. Her pace was now tender and slow, not that I was complaining.

I pull my shirt off over my head, leaving my top half completely exposed for her to see.

"God, you really are perfect", she praised,

As I grinned in excitement.

I unbutton my pants and drag it down my legs, along with the underwear I was wearing. I'd never felt more vulnerable than I did in that moment. My arms instinctively go to cover my body, but she stops them, before they had the chance.

"Don't do that", she says,

Gently moving my head to face her.

"You don't have to hide anything from me"

She kisses me and her hands leave my face, finding their way down the rest of my body. They settle on my bare chest, squeezing my mounds, as I quietly whine against her lips.

Kirby chuckling at how sensitive I was.

Eventually, her kisses trail down my cheeks, till they met the skin of my neck.

"So good for me", she mumbled,

Going lower and licking circles over my now hardened buds, as I sigh in satisfaction. She then made her way down my stomach, till she was on her knees, spreading my legs apart.

"Can I?", she questioned,

As her hungry eyes stared up at me in anticipation, to which I nod.

"I need to hear you say it", she whispers,

The things she did to me by simply just talking was more than enough to make me come undone right then and there.

"Yes", I answer,

Causing her to flash me another one of her signature smirks, before diving into me. Her lips wrapping around my pulsing bundle of nerves, as I gasp at the contact. She slides her fingers up and down my slit, spreading the mess she was making of me.

I could already feel my knees going weak.

"You taste so good", she praises.

Finally having had enough with the torturing, she gently slips her digits into me, pressing earnestly against where I needed her most . A surprised gasp fleeing out of me as a result.

Not wanting to risk hurting me, she started of slow and cautious. Treating me like like a fragile piece of glass that could be shattered even with the slightest touch.

"Y-You can go faster", I reassure,

Making her look up at me. Her eyes were filled with so much tenderness, that I couldn't help but fully surrender myself into her hands.

That was all she needed to hear.

She picks up the pace and began to go faster and faster, as my fingers intertwine themselves with her golden tresses. Each moan and whine only encouraging her to continue her ministrations.

It didn't take long for my knees to start buckling from how weak they were. Noticing how my legs were about to give out, Kirby pulls away, making me whine at the loss of her touch.

"Come here", she says,

Taking me to her vanity and sitting me down, before getting back to what she was doing. Eventually, my walls begin to tighten around her and she went harder and faster.

"K-Kirby"

"You're so close, baby. Do it for me", she whispers.

It was like a knot in the pit of my stomach just snapped apart, as a flood came rushing out of me and onto her welcoming tongue. I've had orgasms before, but...nothing like this. Maybe it was the fact it was someone else and not just myself or maybe she was just that good. Either way, I wasn't gonna complain.

I take a moment to catch my breath, while she swallows me down and wipes off the rest. Kirby then gets back on her feet and kisses me.

"You are the sweetest person ever...literally and metaphorically", she teases,

Making me giggle against her.

"Hey"

"Mm?"

"Feel free to say no, but...would you wanna try something else?"

"You mean like...return the favor?", I ask,

About to go down on my knees, when she stops me with chuckle.

"No, trust me...we have all the time in the world for that", she says,

"But for now, I was thinking..."

She takes my hand and led me to her closet. She slid the door to the side and dug through her clothes to find a box. Once she opened it up, a delicious chill ran up my spine from what I found, waiting inside.

"Is that-"

"Jill and Liv got it for me as a gag-gift for my birthday", she explained,

Taking the strap on out.

"But what they didn't know was that I would be putting it to good use"

I bite back a smile and look back up at her.

"Do you want this? Cause, if you aren't ready-"

"I am", I cut off,

"I trust you"

She grins and I eased any remaining doubts she might've had with a kiss.

"But...", I pull away,

"You're wearing too many clothes for my liking", I joked,

Making her laugh to herself.

I helped her out of the shirt, bra, jeans and thong she was wearing, before tossing the items of clothing into a pile in the corner.

She was breathtaking, almost...unreal. Every dip and curve on her body made my heart beat even faster than it had before.

"What?"

"Nothing, you're...beautiful, Kirby", I say nervously.

She smiles and takes my hand.

"That makes the two of us", she smiles,

Taking me to the bed and carefully laying me down.

"If at any point, you feel uncomfortable"

"I won't", I promised,

"But if you do, please let me know, okay? You're gonna feel pressure for the first few seconds"

"I know. I trust you"

"Okay", she says,

Leaning down to kiss me. As we did, she settles between my legs, before wrapping them around her waist and reaching down to grab the toy. Her free arm going under my back to scoop me up and pull me in closer.

She rubs up and down my slit and eventually pushes in slightly with her hips. The sensation making me tense up as a response.

"Don't do that", she whispers,

Soothing me with soft circles she would draw on the skin of my spine.

"It'll make it hurt", she warns,

"Deep slow breathes, baby"

I do as she says and finally relax in her grasp. She continues to push deeper into me and eventually found the sweet spot waiting for her. I let out a gasp and cling onto her for dear life.

"There she is", she praised.

She gives me a moment to adjust, burying her face in my neck and kissing the warmth of my skin, while mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

Once I was ready for more, I let her know.

"Y-You can move", I whine.

She nods against me and slowly starts moving her hips back and forth. It was a feeling unlike any other, but it wasn't painful, like I thought it would be. It was actually quite the opposite.

Finally getting used to the feeling, I urged her to go faster by bucking my hips up.

"So needy", she teased,

Picking up the pace and thrusting into me faster and harder.

With the long-forgotten party carrying on outside, the desperate moans and sounds that escaped me were all disguised by the chaos from beyond the door, as the smell of sex filled the room.

As it was only my first time, it came as no surprise to me when my orgasm began to build up quicker than I wanted, which Kirby obviously noticed by how much harder she had to ram into me with how tight my walls were wrapping around the strap.

She hurriedly reaches down and rubs fast circles on my clit, only making me cry out even louder.

"So fucking cute like this. Let me have it, baby. Cum"

Those words were the last thing I heard, before I was thrusted over the edge and consumed by the warm embrace of my climax. I let go, screaming her name over and over like it was the only thing I knew how to.

She gently pulls out, as the new-found emptiness left me wincing.

"Shhh", she comforted,

Laying back down and pulling me onto her bare chest. We laid there for a moment, catching our breaths and using the sound of each other's heart beats to ground ourselves.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence that took over.

It was the kind where there was so much more being said without words, than if there were. From how her fingers lightly traced my spine to the kisses she would press against my cheeks and the way she held me like I'd slip right out of her hands said more than any superficial post-sex conversation ever could.

"Think you could spend the night?"

"My parents are out of town, so I don't see why not. Why?", I asked,

"Well, it's pretty late and um...I wouldn't want my girlfriend to be home alone", she replied,

Causing my eyes to widen, as I sit up to look at her.

"What did you say?"

"I don't want you to be home alone?", she tried to play off,

"No no no no no, you called me something"

"Oh...you mean my girlfriend?", she admits,

"Well, don't you wanna be?"

"Yes!", I squeal,

Diving down and crashing my lips onto hers, as she laughs at my excitement.

"About time, don't you think? I mean, I've spent years obsessing over you", she smiles,

Tucking my hair behind my ear.

Unbeknownst to Kirby, the feeling was always mutual.

[harleykeeners]

Be My Life Line (Please)-Parkner

Peter Parker/Harley Keener

Prompt: Peter Parker is overwhelmed. His Dads happen to be called out on a mission the same week his life decided to fall apart. With 4 tests, massive presentations, and no parents, Peter starts popping pills to cope with the pressure of everything crumbling around him. Harley finds him and accidentally makes it worse.

Word Count: 9282

“Hey, kid. Just checking in, we just landed. Everything good?” Tony asked.

Peter put the phone down as he sighed, “Yeah, everything’s great.” Lying through his teeth, Peter started to make his way to the medicine cabinet.

“That’s good to hear. Hey, we should be back in 3 days tops. Just gotta wrap something up here with Nat quickly, something about some rogue spies, I don’t even know at this point.”

“Sounds like fun. Well, I gotta go, got things to do. Be safe, love you.” Peter hung up and just… stared into the mirror. He closed the medicine cabinet and walked away. Tony and Stephen were suddenly pulled away for a mission Peter (and apparently Tony) knew next to nothing about. Which was normal.

Except it had to be this week.

It had to be the week Peter had his Calc and Physics midterm.

It had to be the week Peter had an English and History test.

It had to be the week Peter promised to help MJ with Academic Decathlon practice.

It had to be the week Peter was set to present his work to the other head scientists at Stark Industries.

All in all, he had too much this week. Too much, all at once.

Normally, whenever Tony and Stephen were out, Peter would ask Pepper for help. Well, with Pepper being promoted to CEO, that was next to impossible. After Pepper, Peter would go to Happy. However, it appeared the universe was dead set on making Peter’s week terrible. Happy was preoccupied with training new bodyguards and media specialists (which wasn’t his job?).

So, Peter was alone. Alone with a crammed schedule.

He took solace in his bedroom, the lights low with just a lamp over his desk. He figured the best course of action was tackling everything one thing at a time. Or else he feared he would drown.

Peter found it kind of funny, how all of his teachers decided to assign work the same week his internship project was due for a presentation. He figured he’d start with his Physics review. The packet had 60 questions, and he hadn’t started yet. His midterm was 40% of his final grade. He couldn’t afford to fail- which he doesn’t think he will- but better safe than sorry.

As he stares at the packet, Peter wonders why he cares so much. Maybe it's because everyone tells him how “lucky” he is. How he has to make his Dads proud. How he has to live up to his Dads expectations. How he has to prove he’s “worthy” of the life he has.

He knows it’s irrational.

But, it's still enough to motivate him to study himself into an early grave.

He stares at the paper… and completely blanks out.

Friday alerts Peter that it is time for dinner. Normally Tony would make dinner, (or at least leave Peter some leftovers), however, he left in such a rush that Peter had to make his own dinner. The only issue with that is, Peter easily loses track of time. Peter would find himself burning several meals and leaving the oven on multiple times.

It’s not that Peter is a bed cook, just not a safe one.

Tony had banned Peter from the kitchen multiple times.

Worse comes to worst, Peter will cook. However, he’d rather not. Whenever Tony and Stephen would usually leave, Pepper or even Harley would come over and cook. They’d make a day of it.

As Peter stares into the fridge, he really starts to contemplate calling or texting Harley. However, he imagines it’d go something like this:

“Harls, how do I make pasta?”

“Peter, you can not be serious…”

Once Peter sees that there isn’t food, he goes back to his room. He doesn’t want to waste more precious study time. Besides, he wasn’t that hungry. Dinner could be a bit later.

Peter went back to his packet and about his day.

Before he knew it, Friday alerted him it was midnight.

“Great..” Peter muttered. He hadn’t eaten and still didn’t understand certain problems in his review packet.

Peter gave up and started getting ready for bed. He wasn’t that hungry anyway. He set his alarm and then remembered, Tony wasn’t here to drive him. He’d have to take the bus.

Peter set his alarm for 5 A.M.

After a quick shower, he settled into bed and checked his phone. No notifications. It seemed his Dads were busy.

“Goodnight,” Peter says to himself. He could feel it, this was going to be a hard week.

Initially, Peter thought he’d be fine. His Dads joke about how it would be a trial run for college. Peter would be responsible for getting to school, work, and all the house chores. “I’ll be fine,” Peter said. “Go! Go save the world!” Peter ushers his Dads out the door after a quick goodbye.

He wishes he went with them.

The alarm hurls him awake. Peter fights every force known to man, plus some, to get out of bed. His phone's brightness slightly blinds him, and he sees the time says 5:10 A.M. and a text from his Dad.

Dad: Have a good day! Just killed a weird alien, will bring goop as souvenir!

9:45 P.M.

Peter hurls himself out of bed and makes his way into the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” Peter shouts as he hops into the freezing shower. He laughs to himself, “Oh, the universe is out to get me.”

Pro: Peter was no longer sleepy.

Con: Peter was freezing in the middle of January, in New York.

He rushes to pack his bag, making sure to shove his review packet in there. Peter hoped to do a few extra questions on the bus. Racing downstairs, Peter quickly grabs a banana for breakfast and races out the door.

“Next bus in 30 minutes,” reads on the bus app. Great, that only means Peter just missed the bus.

He sat at the bus stop, regretting not dressing warmer, and started working on his review packet. The smell of weed hit him as a few people started to gather at the bus stop. It frustrated him that he had to smell weed this early in the morning. That was the main reason he asked Tony to drive him to school.

He wasn’t a fan of starting his day with the horrid stench of weed at 5:30 A.M.

By the time the bus came, Peter had to fight his way on. He ended up standing in the alley, holding on to the overhead rails for support. Any plans to keep studying went out the window.

The morning bus was always oddly crowded. People getting on would shove and jostle Peter, and he simply got used to it.

As luck would have it, Peter forgot to grab his headphones. The nice thing about the morning bus was that no one tried to talk to him. He quietly watched the street view and the soft fall of snow outside.

He found comfort in the route. It was the same route every day. It was a constant.

When he finally got off at Midtown, the time was 6:45 A.M. Peter had 15 minutes before class in which he can continue his studies. He found a small corner by the school and settled down.

“Yo, you got those practice questions I asked for?” MJ asks. She seemed to appear out of thin air and scared the shit out of Peter.

“Oh, no. Sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” He answered as MJ opted to sit next to him. Peter forgot that MJ was in the hospital with her mother and needed help with Academic Decathlon practice questions.

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I just need them before Thursday.” She looks over his shoulder at the packet. “Last minute cramming?”

Peter nods and sighs at the same time. “Yeah. I think I’ll be fine but can never be too sure.”

MJ laughs and quips back “Yeah, don’t be like Flash. He’s going on and on about how he knows he’ll ace it but” MJ leans closer to Peter, “If you look at him closely, you can see the panic in his eyes.”

They shared a laugh before MJ got up to roam around school a bit before class. Peter was feeling a bit more confident, however, his test anxiety was acting up. Bad enough that he has to take this test at the end of the day. Now he’ll just be anxious all day.

Throughout the day, Peter’s head started to hurt. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, mixed with his empty stomach, and his anxiety that started making his head spin.

It was fine, he just needed to get through this midterm. That he forgot about until yesterday. That was worth 40% of his grade. That could tank his 96% “A”. That Flash 100% bombed if his face at lunch was anything to tell by.

If Peter played his cards right, he just needed 81% to end up with 90%. He needs to end the semester with an “A”. He can only afford to get 12 questions wrong. He should have studied earlier. His head is spinning. His palms are sweating. When did it get so hot?

Peter flips over his test and quickly skims the questions. He doesn’t remember what happens next.

He walked out of the classroom, feeling relief that it was finally over. Until he remembers he has to go on patrol.

Peter really didn’t want to go on patrol as he had his Chemistry midterm on Thursday. But, Spider-Man can’t just disappear for a week. So, despite his better judgment, he calls Ned to take his bag.

Normally, Peter loves patrol. He loves swinging from building to building and helping those in need. Peter finds that being Spider-Man is one of the few moments he can truly be himself. No pressure from school, friends, or his Dads. Spider-Man is his window to freedom.

And right now, Peter wants to slam the window shut. Right now, Peter needs to be studying. However, just as he thinks that Peter sees a cat in a tree.

“Hey! Someone a little stuck?” Peter asks the cat, not really expecting a response. (However, he doesn’t ignore the possibility of a talking cat.) Luckily, the cat doesn’t try to scratch him. Peter easily scoops up the cat and returns it to the ground.

“I feel like I should find your owner…” The cat ends up running away behind some home, allowing Peter to conclude that it was an outside cat that simply got stuck.

He wishes his patrol ended there. Over the next 3 hours, the universe decided to line up every petty crime back-to-back. First, Mr. Delmar found himself behind gunpoint. Then, some teenagers decided to rob a gas station. Followed by three guys causing a commotion on the subway. And the cherry on top of this picture-perfect night was a woman getting mugged right as Peter was going to go home.

Peter knows he’s there to help. But sometimes, sometimes he wishes he could be selfish and take the day for himself.

He swings by Ned’s window to collect his bag and makes his way home.

“Welcome home, Peter. It is currently 9:37 P.M.” Friday announces. Peter simply groans and makes his way to the shower. One thing he feels he must do is shower after patrol. Even though he should go to bed, Peter needs to study.

The relief Peter feels as the hot water hits his shoulders is unparalleled. It's the first moment of relaxation all day.

As Peter gets dressed, he notices the clock strikes 10 P.M. That gives him roughly an hour to study. He silences his phone to avoid all distractions and hits the books.

Dad: Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you yet

10:12 P.M.

Pops: Hope you’re doing well, Peter.

10:19 P.M.

Dad: Sleep well, kid. Love ya

10:35 P.M.

He doesn’t notice the missed texts. Peter wakes up on his desk.

His phone is screaming at him from across the room. His head hurts and the lights he left on blind him.

“Shit,” He thinks. Peter pulls himself from the desk, his back in agony and his head pounding. “Friday, what time is it?”

“It is 6 A.M, Peter.”

“Oh, shit.” Peter thinks. “I’m going to miss the bus.” Immediately, Peter throws on the first thing he sees and races out the door. No time for breakfast. Now that he thinks about it, he missed dinner yesterday.

As he rushes to the bus stop, Peter realizes the bus is approaching. Luckily, there's a line of people to get on so Peter makes it on in time. Way too close for comfort.

By now, his head is pounding. He keeps forgetting to eat and he’s not getting enough sleep. He’s still sore from patrol and he’s anxious about his tests. And now, he’s out of breath from chasing the bus.

It’s not like today is going to get any better. Peter knows he still has to do the Academic Decathlon questions MJ asked for. Plus, he needs to finish patrol quickly to review some formulas that were wrong on his internship project.

Once again, MJ finds him sitting in the same corner, now reviewing Chemistry. Peter sees her from the corner of his eye and prepares to let her down again.

“Before you ask, no, I still don’t have the AcaDeca questions. I’m sorry, I’ll try my hardest to get them done by tomorrow.” Peter doesn't promise and he isn’t even sure what he just said is true.

He doesn’t really know why he can’t just tell MJ he doesn’t have the time to do them.

Well, Peter knows why.

He doesn’t want to let her down. He doesn’t want to admit he can’t do something. He doesn’t want to admit he bit off more than he can chew. Peter wants to be someone people can rely on. But right now, he can’t even rely on himself.

“No sweat, just let me know if it’s too much. I can always ask Ned to do them instead.” MJ calmly answers back.

Peter should tell her that would be better, but something stops him.

“Hey, MJ.” Peter finds himself saying. "Do you have any Advil on you?”

“Yeah, why? Headache?”

Peter nods his head as MJ hands him the small pill. “Slept horribly.” He doesn’t even bother getting water and dry swallows the pill. MJ shoots him a look of sympathy and understanding.

“Happens to the best of us,” she says. With that, MJ bids Peter farewell and he resumes his studies.

When 3rd period rolls around, Peter is hit with the fact that he indeed has a history test today. He’s not panicking, just annoyed he forgot. It seemed like things were slipping from his memory recently.

The class is silent as they take their test and Peter starts to feel dizzy again. He didn’t eat during lunch and instead kept studying. He drinks some water, which does help him a little, but right now Peter just wants to put his head down.

He finishes his test and makes a dash for the bathroom. He just needs a minute to breathe. “Okay, just calm down. Just relax and focus,” Peter thinks as he splashes water onto his face. He begins to form a list and organize himself:

Patrol.

Internship formula.

Chemistry Midterm.

English test.

Academic Decathlon Questions.

And dinner.

He keeps forgetting that one.

Peter just needs to better manage his time. Other than that, he sees no reason to be overwhelmed. He’s just all over the place. However, his head wasn’t feeling much better.

The nurse can’t give him any medication so Peter will have to wait till he gets home.

The bell finally rings and Peter makes a dash for an empty alleyway. He doesn’t bother giving Ned his bag as he simply webs it to the wall. Peter jumps into his suit and begins his quick patrol. No more than an hour, the city gets Spider-Man for one hour and that’s it. Today, Peter Parker is needed more than Spider-Man.

Rushing to wrap the patrol up, Peter ends up slamming into a pole.

“Fuck!” He shouts and concludes patrol then and there. His arms are throbbing but that doesn’t matter, Peter still needs to get home and review his project.

The tower is freezing, and Peter makes a run to the bathroom. With no time to revel in the soothing hot water, he quickly cleans up the sweat and blood and changes into his comfort clothes. The other interns will simply deal with Peter in Harley’s hoodie and sweatpants.

Before going down to the lab, Peter goes to the medicine cabinet. His head is killing him and the pain in his arms isn’t going away. He looks at the bottle of Advil and opens it. He takes two for his headache and two more for his arms.

As he swallows the pills, Peter realizes that he hasn’t eaten yet. However, he then remembers Friday exists. “Friday, could you order a pizza and deliver it to the lab for me?”

“Of course, Peter.” Friday happily responds.

With that settled, Peter heads to the lab.

Peter is face to face with the whiteboard and one problem on it. He’s been going over it for hours. He keeps ending up with a remainder, however, it ruins the machine's code. All the other interns have taken a stab at it and none have been successful.

“This is going to be the death of me.” One of them says, which by the size of their eye bags, seems to be right.

“I swear I’m going insane. How do we keep getting a remainder? We’ve used every rational method…” Another intern says.

“We have to be missing something super obvious. Maybe, we need a new set of eyes?” Peter says and then realizes his error. They have all been staring at the same problem for the better course of an hour now, and probably all have tunnel vision.

The only issue is, they've run the problem by every intern.

“Are you going to call your Dads? I bet they could figure this out.”

And that comment struck a nerve in Peter. Mainly because he knows he can solve this. He’s solved this type of problem thousands of times before. But for some reason, he’s stuck.

They have to figure this out, as they are set to present this robot to the pantheon of scientists at Stark Industries on Thursday.

“Wait…” one of the interns speaks up, “Isn’t Harley in today?”

Peter silently cries tears of joy.

The universe is throwing him a bone.

Harley is an intern in every way but legally. Peter rushes to call the front desk and hunts Harley down. “Send Keener to lab 37, immediately. Tell him it’s life or death.”

They all let out a sigh of relief, finally having a small break from the same numbers on the whiteboard. It’s 8:45 P.M. and Harley is met with five interns surrounded by several cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“What’s going on?” Harley asks in a slight panic.

Peter doesn’t answer. He simply hands him a dry-erase marker and places him in front of the whiteboard. Harley doesn’t need direction, as Peter can see his mind running as he stares at the problem. They all leave him be.

Peter takes the time to pick up his pizza and eat a bit. He forgot how good New York pizza is. With some food in his stomach, Peter quietly sneaks off to take another pill. His arms are still throbbing and his head is killing him. At least now he has some food in his system.

He comes back to see Harley on a completely new board, the previous one filled with equations.

“Still can’t crack it?” he asks.

“Darling, I think you finally got me. What the hell is this?”

“I have no idea. We’ve been stuck on this for weeks and keep getting a remainder, which then causes a system error in the bot. Thought you’d be able to figure it out.” Peter answers.

“Do you guys still have your previous proofs?”

“Yeah, right over there.” Peter points to a stack of paper on a nearby desk. Harley nods and ruffles through the stack, his eyes quickly skimming the numbers.

Peter goes off to grab some water. He gets the compulsion to check his phone and notices he has a few texts from Tony and Stephen.

Dad: Just checking in, all good?

6:11 P.M.

Dad: Would you like an alien finger as a souvenir?

8:24 P.M

Peter laughs at the messages and sends back a quick selfie to make sure Tony knows he is indeed alive (despite what his body is telling him). To his surprise, Tony replies right away and they spend a few seconds discussing TSA guidelines for transporting severed alien fingers.

Harley then speaks up and asks, “Peter, what’s the square root of -1?”

“It’s i.” He quickly responds. The square root of -1 does not exist, so its i, which stands for an imaginary number.

“Right, and who wrote this?” Harley calls him over to review some work. He points to some long equation where there’s a smudged number.

“Does that say 1 or i?” He asks.

Peter sees red. They have all spent weeks looking over this problem, going slightly insane, all because of some poor penmanship.

“That’s supposed to be an i..”

“Yeah, but then they added it to the equation as if it were a one- which throws everything off-”

“By one,” Peter concludes. “That’s why we keep having a remainder.”

In a moment of pure blinding rage, Peter throws all the work onto the floor. His entire team had spent weeks refining their robot, all because someone misread a number. Peter was fuming.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Peter shouts.

This grabs everyone's attention. They all gather around Harley, who's picking up the paper on the floor. “Hey, at least we caught it now and not in front of the professionals.” Harley tries to reassure Peter.

The group nods, but Peter doesn’t care.

He’s beyond exhausted and at the end of his patience.

He quickly checks his phone and sees that it’s 10:22 P.M. He’s even more frustrated as he still needs to shower and do homework. However, before he storms off he speaks up, “Next time we do something like this, we are all making our numbers and variables extremely legible.” He doesn’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces and storms off to his room.

The entire fiasco was making his head hurt even more, so Peter pops another pill before bed. At least he ate today. Peter will take the small victory.

He lost track of how many pills he took today.

Before going to bed, Peter realizes that he doesn’t care about bothering Happy. He calls Happy and -borderline begs- him to take him to school. Happy agrees and Peter is over the moon he can sleep in a bit more.

The extra hours of sleep do wonders for Peter. He’s able to take a shower without rushing and is even able to eat a light breakfast. Peter allows himself to stop and breathe. He feels like he hasn’t had the chance to.

“Kid, are you ready to go?” Happy calls out as Peter quickly packs his bag. He nods and they both make their way to the cars. Peter hops in the back and, to his surprise, ends up falling asleep.

(It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He looks like shit.)

It was a much needed power nap, and Peter felt slightly better. He says goodbye to Happy and makes his way to his corner. He sees Ned sitting there, eagerly waiting for him.

“Woah, dude are you okay?” Ned asks with concern. Peter simply waves him off and says he’s fine. Ned doesn’t question it and simply changes the subject to the Academic Decathlon training they have in two days. With that, Peter remembers that he needs to finish those questions. He makes a mental note to finally start them.

Peter knows he has his English test today, and he honestly can’t be bothered to review. He knows he’ll be fine.

Instead, he begins the Academic Decathlon questions he promised MJ he’d have ready for tomorrow. Now, the challenge with that is that he needs to come up with questions that are challenging- but not impossible. Which is extremely difficult.

He promised MJ 30 questions: Ten math questions, ten science questions, and ten history/geography questions. In the first two sections, Peter had it in the bag. He pulled several problems from projects he’d seen in the labs and even a few Tony used on his suits.

The history/geography ones stumped him. This was MJ’s field of expertise, not Peter’s.

However, Peter’s too stubborn to ask for help. It doubles as reviewing, in a weird way. Peter pulls several articles from various historical moments and begins crafting some questions. He convinces himself that he’s reviewing his reading compression skills.

By the time his English test rolls around, Peter has managed to complete 26 questions. He’s running on pure adrenaline and 2 more Advills, but he’s getting it done. Like clockwork, Peter blanks out during his test. He’s sure he did fine, English wasn’t ever challenging to him.

However, he can’t afford to worry about that. In the grand scheme of things, that test was less than 1% of his stress. He almost forgot about his Chemistry midterm tomorrow. Plus, he had his presentation and AcaDeca training the following day.

Peter sometimes wishes he knew how to say no.

Patrol was starting to feel more like a job. Peter dreaded it and that frustrated him because Peter loved helping people. He loved seeing people smile and making their day. Being Spider-Man is one of the things Peter’s the proudest of. However, he can’t help others if he can’t even help himself. That’s evident by the empty pill bottle in his bag.

Once again, Peter is convinced the universe is out to get him. Everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. Mr. Delmar gets held at gunpoint, the bank has two attempted robberies, Peter counts seven muggings, and finally, some punks thought it would be funny to rob the pawn shop run by the old lady. Honestly, he couldn’t catch a break.

And it was one after another. Spider-Man didn’t stop and was constantly moving between crimes. He was getting overwhelmed and his movements were getting sloppy. The worst part was that Peter wasn’t pulling back his punches. There was so much going on at once that controlling his strength was the last thing on his mind.

That’s when he finally accepted he had a problem.

He saw the blood on his hands and the horrified looks of the criminals he was hurting. Thankfully, most civilians had fled the area so they didn’t witness the grotesque image of Peter decking them with ease. So Peter had to call the cops and the ambulance to patch up the bodies he left behind.

He was getting irritable and irrational. He has to cut the patrol short. Spider-Man is becoming more of a danger rather than an aid.

His knuckles are busted open and he has bruises all over his chest. When he gets home, Peter downs another 6 pills to try and numb the pain. He hasn't eaten and he hasn’t showered but that isn’t his concern. He sloppy puts on some bandages over his wounds and immediately hits the books.

By now it's 8:48 P.M. and Peter is about to pass out. He’s staring at his desk with his chem packet and AcaDeca questions all spread out. He’s almost done but he's beginning to see spots. His head is pounding and no matter how many pills he takes, the pain isn't going away. It hurts to move and he’s hungry and he knows he stinks.

Finally, it seems the universe has him beat and Peter snaps.

Peter- against his will- breaks down. He’s crying his eyes out and his head is killing him. Peter can feel a migraine coming on and he doesn’t think he’ll survive. He begins hyperventilating and he runs for more pills. Whether or not they work doesn’t matter, Peter’s convinced himself it's better than nothing.

By this point, Peter’s blocked out all his surroundings. Therefore, he doesn’t notice when Harley walks onto the floor and calls for him.

“Hey, Peter! So, for our presentation, I was thinking we should maybe revisit the previous reversion with-” Harley stops dead in his tracks when he finds Peter.

Peter knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he was destroying his body. But Peter was ashamed.

He was too prideful to ask for help.

Harley simply looks at him, and Peter knows what it looks like. His hair is a mess, his hands are bloody, his face is bruised, his eye bags are heavy, and the empty pill bottle on the floor seals the deal.

“Peter, what did you do?” Harley asks with worry and anger in his voice.

“I’m fine. Harls. I’m just stressed.” Peter waves off. The last thing he wants is for Harley to lecture him. “I’m okay, you can go. I have homework I need to finish.”

“No! I’m not gonna sit around and watch you do this to yourself!” Harley yells. He starts to pace the living room back and forth, shaking his head and looking in shock.

“You preach on and on about how drugs are the downfall of our generation and now- what? You’re popping pills? Peter, what the hell?”

Peter feels awful. He feels like shit. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

Peter knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he's in the wrong. But… he just wants to help people. He just wants to meet their expectations. And now… he feels like a failure, and Harley is only rubbing salt in the wound.

“Harley, please…” Peter breaks down and Harley snaps out of his angry trance.

“Please, just hold me.” Peter wails as he falls onto the floor. He holds himself tight as he tries to process the millions of thoughts swimming in his head. Harley suddenly drops to the floor and begins to comfort Peter.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I’m so stressed. And it started small.” Peter starts. He isn’t sure if he hears Harley ask questions, but now he can’t stop talking.

“I was just having such bad headaches and taking them made it better. But then I started taking them whenever I got stressed and- I was so stressed this week. Patrol was so hard and they helped with the pain, and I lost track of how many I’ve had. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I already feel like shit, Harls. I don’t need you reminding me of the failure I am. I already know that! I let you down, I let my Dads down, I let myself down. I let everyone down!”

“I just want my Dads.” Peter sobs into Harley’s arms. “I’m so tired…” Tears are filling his eyes and it's getting harder to breathe. His chest feels tight and he’s in so much mental anguish and physical pain that he isn’t even really present at the moment.

Harley rocks Peter back and forth. He runs his fingers through Peter’s hair and kisses his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped. I just… I care about you so much I got worried.”

“Where are my Dads?”

“I���ll call them right now.” Harley then forces Peter to look at him.”Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can help you.” Peter can’t verbally answer but he simply signals towards his chest. Harley removes his suit and notices the black and blue bruises with dried blood. Harley also notices Peter's greasy hair.

“Let me make you a meal and run you a bath,” Harley whispers into Peter’s hair and hugs him tighter.

While Harley goes to the bathroom, Peter passes out on the floor, finally allowing himself some peace. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He wakes up to the smell of chicken soup and Harley gently shaking him.

“Hey, the bath’s ready. I called your Dads and they’ll be here in the morning. Also, I talked to Ned. You’re not going tomorrow.” Harley says as he lifts Peter onto his feet and helps him remove his suit.

“Harls, I have to go tomorrow. I have my midterm and I need to give MJ the questions I promised her.” Peter answers.

Harley simply shakes his head. “I say you take it next week, however, if it bothers you that much, after tomorrow you can go. I’m sure Tony can sort that out with your teacher. But you need to take at least a day off. And if the presentation stresses you out that much, I can cover for you.”

Peter should feel relieved but he doesn’t want to give up just yet. He’s done so much to make it through this week, he just wants to see it to the end. “Can we talk about this later?” Peter asks.

He’s down to his boxers and Harley has a full view of the bruises littered all over Peter’s body. Peter can see Harley is fighting the urge to say no, but instead, he simply nods his head and kisses his cheek. “Sure, just go get cleaned up.”

Peter agrees and makes his way to the bathtub. Nice that Harley probably figured Peter can’t stand long enough for a shower.

The water is warm and sends immediate relief throughout his whole body. Peter sinks into the tub and lets the water engulf him. He looks at his body and notices just how severe his injuries are. He should probably have Stephen check those out when he gets back.

After an incredible half hour in the tub, Peter finally gets out. He didn’t realize how much he truly needed that.

He changes into some light PJs and finds Harley by the kitchen island with a bowl of chicken soup.

Peter can't remember the last time he had an actual meal. Harley sat next to him as Peter slowly drank the soup. “So, what about tomorrow?” Harley asks.

Peter checks his phone and realizes it's 10:41 P.M. He had two options: he could either take tomorrow off, or he could suck it up.

“Would you mind helping me study?” He asks. Before Harley protests, Peter cuts him off. “I have my midterm first thing in the morning, after that I’ll have Happy take me home. That lets me give MJ the questions I owe her.” Peter didn’t go through the worst week of his life only to not see it till the end. He was stubborn like that.

Harley didn’t seem to like the idea, but he agreed nonetheless. When Peter finished his soup, they both headed to his room and Harley quizzed him on a few problems. Peter was feeling okay, his anxiety was just through the roof.

They both called it quits at around midnight. Harley crashed on the couch and Peter was out like a light.

He only had two days left. He was so close.

When the morning rolls around, Peter wishes he chose to stay home. He is groggy and tired, but still feeling the best he’s felt all week. He assumes Harley was already up and making him breakfast while he went to shower.

They had both agreed that Peter would skip patrol. He was in no condition to help anyone and would probably just hurt himself again, which isn't helpful to anyone.

To his surprise, however, his Dads were home. He walked into the living room to see Stephen making breakfast (no sign of Harley).

“Good morning,” Peter says as he goes to hug his Dad.

“Hey, Harley told us what happened. Just text us when your exam is over and we’ll come to get you. I also need to check your injuries, Peter.” Stephen said as he lightly tossed Peter’s hair and serves him a small stack of pancakes.

Peter silently hopes Harley didn’t mention the pills.

By the time Peter finished his breakfast, he wanted to vomit. He hadn’t stomached that much food all week and his body was trying to reject it. He holds it down as Tony pulls up to Peter’s school. “Text me the second you’re done. Promise?”

Peter sees the worry in Tony’s eyes and simply nods. He already feels guilty. He doesn’t need the reminder. (Looks like Tony understood that.)

As Peter gets to school, he immediately tracks down MJ. He hands her the questions, doesn’t wait for a thank you, and runs to the bathroom.

He can just feel vomit rising up his throat. His eyes are losing focus and he’s currently heaving over the toilet. “Maybe I should have stayed home,” Peter thinks as he stares into the mirror over the sink. His dark circles are getting worst and his skin is breaking out. He splashes some water on his face and quietly reminds himself that he’s almost done. “Just two more days.”

The bell rings and Peter heads off to his classroom. He’s taking his midterm first thing in the morning and right now, he’s fighting to stay upright.

Almost routine, Peter receives his test and flips it over. He knows he knows the material, he just has test anxiety. The studying he did with Harley definitely helps, so he’s confident he’ll do fine.

He ends up blanking out. He doesn’t remember much of the exam, nor many of the questions. However, he feels lighter, like a weight has been taken off his shoulder.

Peter ends up vomiting in the bathroom.

He’s heaving over the toilet and clinging on for dear life. His throat burns and the aftertaste of his breakfast is in his mouth, with a mixture of acid. He’s drenched in sweat and can’t see straight and he feels a migraine coming on.

Quickly, he texts Tony that he can pick him up. Peter gets off the floor and washes his face in the sink. His face is sickly pale and the lights are blinding him. Out of habit, Peter reaches for his pockets to get a pill, only to realize that he doesn’t have any.

That movement alone scares him.

He’s worried he’s feeling dependent.

When he leaves the bathroom, he quickly tracks down MJ in the library. “MJ, here are the questions I promised you. I’m so sorry they’re so late.” He profusely, but rapidly apologizes to her as he hands her the packet.

She doesn’t even look at them, instead places her hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “Pete, are you okay?” Just being forced to look at her is giving him a headache. The library lights are a blinding yellow and he can hear noise from the hallway.

“Yeah, just a little headache,” Peter says, but MJ still looks at him with worry. “MJ, I’m fine.” Peter doesn’t even believe in himself. He has that gazed look people have after they vomit their guts out and a small twitch in his eyes due to the lighting.

It seems like she doesn’t believe him either. Before she speaks, before she pities him, Peter runs to the office, knowing Tony will arrive any second.

As he waits in the office, he decides it's better to wait in the bathroom. The office had too many people talking, stapling, and filing. The office had too much noise.

That was the main thing he hated about his powers, his senses were heightened, making his migraines a hundred times worse. He’s on the brink of tears when the receptionist yells out his name to alert him that he’s leaving.

It seems that Tony notices so he doesn’t speak, simply thanks the staff, and ushers him into the car. Tony shuts off the radio and hands Peter a jacket in the backseat. Immediately, Peter covers his eyes and attempts to drift off to sleep. He’s just realizing how tired he is, mentally that is.

The ride home is a much needed break. He only has to get through tomorrow’s AcaDeca practice. (He’s not expecting to stay conscious during class).

When they do eventually arrive at the Tower, Peter can’t stand. His body has completely given out on him. Tony ends up carrying the boy inside and up the elevator to the medical compound.

“Okay, kid, you’re scaring the hell out of me. What happened?” Peter wakes up on one of the medical beds and is met with the horrible blinding lights in his face.

He’s too overwhelmed to talk and simply points to them, silently begging Tony to turn them off. He does, thankfully.

“I took on too much,” Peter says. “Everything just pilled up on the same week, and you guys weren’t there, and I don’t know how to say no..” The tears finally begin to spill as Peter talks. His head is killing him and his body is sworn and the voice in his head is nagging him even more. The look on Tony’s face says it all. Peter let him down, Peter disappointed him, and Peter worried him. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it.”

Tony doesn’t answer and simply steps aside as Stephen appears to tend to Peter’s medical needs. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands off to the side and looks at the ground. Peter can’t read his face, he can’t tell what's going on in his head. Is he angry? Upset? Not knowing is somewhat worse.

When Stephen finishes, he tells Peter that he’s simply dehydrated and only has a few bruises, nothing extreme. Seems like most of his injuries were healed due to his enhanced abilities.

No one says anything. They all look at each other and quietly leave for their own spaces. Peter can’t muster the courage to tell them what happened. Right now, he just wants the ground to swallow him whole. Peter makes it to his room, takes a much needed shower, and tries to sleep. He’s awakened, however, by Tony at his door with a plate of food.

“Oh, thanks but I’m not really-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Tony coldly states and Peter shuts up. He hands Peter the plate and Peter realizes he isn’t leaving until Tony sees him clean the plate.

Reluctantly, Peter ate. His body needed to get used to consuming food on a regular schedule, not just every other day. When Peter finishes, he hands Tony the plate and apologies once again.

Tony doesn’t say anything, instead reaches over and kisses his forehead.

The next morning is a little better. Peter feels well-rested and his stomach isn’t doing flips. (He’s happy he kept his food down this time.)

He knows today his only task is to make it through the AcaDeca training (which would be easy, as he made the questions), and make it through his internship presentation. That alone takes the pressure off him, with a bonus that it’s Friday. Peter desperately needed the weekend.

He doesn’t even bother changing out of his pajama pants. He just throws on a hoodie and walks out the door. When he gets to school, it seems like MJ and Ned plotted to corner him. They both catch him in his usual corner and block any exits. “Pete, you gotta talk to us. Are you okay?” Ned starts out sweetly.

“Yeah, you look like a bus hit you on the way here,” said MJ. He laughs at her bluntness but assures them that everything is okay. (It’s not, but he thinks he’s getting better)

Today is just about staying awake- if he can even manage that. His migraine is still lingering and the school bells still hurt, but he thinks he’ll be okay.

Peter is proven wrong the minute he sits at his desk. Once he’s in his chair, his head is on the desk and he’s out cold. His body is catching up on the sleep he’s missed all week. No one bothers to wake him up, and if they did, Peter didn’t notice. Today marks the first day Peter slept in every class. Usually, he’d chug coffee to keep himself awake, but today he just couldn’t find the strength.

Every time the bells ring to switch classes, he’s violently jolted awake. Some teachers tried to check up on him, however, Peter still refuses any help and claims he’s okay.

When the final bell rings, Peter is beyond overjoyed. (No more loud bells in his ears.) He quickly makes his way to the auditorium for the AcaDeca training and throws himself into a chair.

Slowly, the rest of the team makes their way inside and immediately, “Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Flash speaks up. And Peter can’t even be mad, he knows he looks awful. Flash saw him completely passed out in chemistry and history. Thankfully, MJ shuts him down and begins the training.

As MJ begins reading out questions to the team, Peter gets a text on his phone.

Harls: Hey, hope you’re feeling a bit better. The presentation got moved to 7 tonight, btw. Xx

3:56 P.M.

With a sigh of relief, Peter relaxes a bit and is able to focus on the training. While most of it was pretty easy, given that he made the questions, MJ threw in some surprise ones as well. The team discussed strategies and tactics, but Peter didn’t really listen. He patiently waited for the MJ to call the meeting to an end before he bolted out the door.

Tony was already outside the school. He’s patiently waiting in what appears to be Happy’s car. Peter hops in and just slumps into the seat. “Remind me to never take on any more responsibilities,” he says as he throws his bag into the backseat.

Tony laughs and replies, ‘Kid, you and I both know that you need to learn to say no. It’s about you taking on too much- well, partially that- but it’s also that you take on extra when you can easily say no.”

Peter thinks about that for a moment before responding, “Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just say no to someone in need.” By now, Tony is pulling onto the road as Peter leans his head against the window. “That’s true, just be mindful of those who need help and those who are taking advantage of you. Remember, put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.”

What Tony says rings true, and Peter sits with it for a bit. Maybe people are taking advantage of him. Or maybe he just took on too much. Right now, Peter is too exhausted to figure out which one applies to his current situation.

Eventually, Peter allows himself to close his eyes, finally allowing himself a moment of peace. (Sleeping on school desks is never comfortable, ignore if anyone tells you otherwise.) As he lays back against the seats, with the soothing hum of the car, Peter drifts off to sleep.

When they arrive at the Tower, Tony isn’t sure whether or not to wake Peter. It looks like he’s finally comfortable and finally resting. However, one quick glance at the clock and he knows Peter would be upset if he didn’t wake him up in time to review for his presentation. “Hey,” Tony starts gently shaking Peter, “We’re home. It’s 4:30 P.M. Figured you and Harley would want some time to prep for tonight, and maybe even have some dinner before.”

Peter musters up all the strength he was to get up and make his way out of the car. He thanks Tony and sluggishly drags himself to the lab. The bright lights from the Tower and the constant jostling are enough to wake him up a tad, but he’s still rather dazed.

As he enters the lab, Peter is met with Harley and his team all frantically reviewing. Harley is pointing at people and assigning roles as he catches a glimpse that Peter arrived. “-And you, get Peter a coffee, please!” The intern runs off and quickly returns with a cup of expresso for Peter.

“Alright, what do we need to go over,” Peter says as he takes a sip of his drink- and suddenly he feels much more awake. Harley begins running down everything they’ve covered. Who will be discussing the prompt, the robot, the calculations, and its real-world implications. “We just need someone to finalize the posters. Do you have the files, Peter?”

Peter nods, taking another sip of his expresso. (He can feel his entire body shaking.) “Yeah, I got them. Just to clarify, it’s one poster showing the rendered robot, another showing the entire crew, and one more for the overview and prompt?” Harley nods as Peter sets off to work in the corner. He and the team had agreed that he would begin the presentation and introduce their design, leaving the math to the other interns and Harley, who was far more awake and present. Peter quickly notices that he’s drank all of his expresso, and goes off to get more. His body is shaking and he feels dizzy, but he needs to stay awake. He just needs to make it through tonight.

Opening his computer, Peter finalizes all the posters and sends them down to the printing lab. He takes it as his excuse to get up and walk around, making sure his legs don’t fall asleep. He starts looking over all the reports, research, and calculations they did, and everything looks good. However, you can never be too sure.

Harley seems to be stressed out of his mind. “Okay, we start in an hour. Anything else we need to get done?” he frantically asks the group. After a series of ‘no’, Peter mentions that he’s going to pick up the posters and bring them up and that it should be the final thing they need. Harley lets out a sigh of relief and opts to join Peter as they both head downstairs.

The ride down the elevator is calming. Peter takes it as his chance to drop his head onto Harley’s shoulder. To this, Harley brings up his hand and begins playing with Peter’s hair. “I’m so tired..: Peter says, mumbling into his shoulders, The expresso is making him shake and he refuses to drink more, genuinely concerned for his health. “I know. You just need to do this one last thing, then you’re free.” Harley says as he places a light kiss on Peter’s head before they step put the elevator. Thankfully, the printing lab was empty. Both boys quickly gather the posters and then stand there for a moment.

“You know, I’m really sorry I snapped at you,” Harley says quietly. He’s looking down at the floor and won’t look up. “I was just so scared, I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

“No, no you didn’t.” Peter starts, “Yeah, it hurt, but I needed the reality check. I was so far in my own head that I didn’t realize what exactly I was doing. I didn’t consider how it’d affect me, or you…” Peter replies. They both look up and meet each others’ eyes. Peter notices the beginning of tears forming in Harley’s eyes and he makes his way over to catch them before they fall.

“I had a stumble. I’m…” and Peter wants to say that he’s okay, but he doesn’t want to lie anymore. He wants to fall over. He wants to cry. He wants to go to bed. “I’m getting help,” he concludes. Harley nods in approval of that statement and makes his way to kiss Peter’s foreahead. I’m just happy you’re okay,” He whispers.

Peter smiles and after a few seconds of enjoying each others embrace, they pull apart and begin to head back upstairs. By now, it’s 6:17 P.M., and Peter chooses to get a meal and a shower in before he presents. He is fighting to stay awake, as the espresso is wearing off and he can feel himself crashing soon.

After a quick warm shower, Peter finds himself a plate of food waiting for him at the table. Stephen is in the kitchen cleaning dishes when he noticies Peter. “Hey, I saved you a plate. Nervous?”

Peter immediately begins to scarf down the food. He feels slightly more refreshed after the shower, however the food finally makes him feel complete. His stomach is no longer growling and he’s not so light headed anymore. After a little small talk with Stephen, Peter feels a little more relaxed. They fall into a casual conversation, delicately avoiding the topic of Peter’s situation. He’s thankful, truly. He feels guilty enough and hearing about how it hurrt those around him just makes him feel worse.

By now, its 6:48 P.M. and Harley comes rushing into the kitchen. Without forming a coherent sentence, Peter understands what Harley is trying to say. “Robot. Present. Prep. Now.” Immediately, they both get up and begin bolting to the lab. In the distance, they hear Stephen wish them good luck.

The reason they were both so stressed was because of their reputations. It meant the expectations were even higher. These weren’t scientist that were just impressed because Peter was related to Tony Stark, these are people who couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s fame. However, they took it into account when setting the expectation.

When they make it to the lab, the other interns are also franctincally reviewing flash cards and pacing around the room. Peter luckily didn’t need to prepare for much, he just reviewed the outline of the introduction. Instead, he opted for drinking more espresso, trying to make it through the final push. His reward after this would be a long awaited nap.

As the scientist enter the room, Peter escapes into his safe space. If it was nay other day, he’d be fully present and in the moment, which might have caused an anxiety attack. However, Peter is just too tired to give a fuck. He disappears into his safe space and puts on his confident persona.

He goes trough the overview and introduction smoothly. Not really remembering where he is, just that he’s talking. Peter isn’t even present in the moment when the team begins to discuss the calcutioans and revisions they went through.

Peter only snaps back to reality when the board claps and congratulations them. Their faces ins’t giving anything away, he can;t tell if they’re disappointed or impressed. But honestly, he doesn’t care.

They end up finishing at 9:51 P.M. and Peter is beat. He can hardly stand up straight, and Harley is supporting his every step. When they finally making it to his bedroom, Peter dones;t even bother to get under the sheets. He falls onto his bed and the minute his head hits the mattress, he is out like a light.

Harley chuckles at the sight and draps a blanket over Peter, before kissing his forehead. Peter finally gets a break after, what he considers to be, the worst week of his life.

End.

Reposting the fic I posted here a few months ago. Wanna get into formatting more on tumblr!

[falconcoast]

As a uni student, what about how both y/n and tighnari cope with the weeks before finals and finals week? Its actual hell where professors give out hard quizzes pre-exams (in my case) and assignments with unrealistic deadlines :<

college au vi | tighnari x reader

masterlist

you and tighnari are almost out of the woods for this semester. emphasis on almost. your professors aren't going to let you off easily. you and tighnair decide to cope as best you can.

a/n: dedicated to ME because i had: two physics tests, a make-up AP test, the worst calc final in the history of calc finals, a book to finish in ten days, an essay, and a shit ton of extracurriculars in the last two weeks. this drabble is on the shorter side for that reason. for my babes still working their asses off: you got this i believe in you!

one of the greatest features of your shared apartment with tighnari is your giant, weekly whiteboard calendar. it sits above your couch in your living room, noting every little project, assignment, study session, and due date. with two more weeks left to go, the calendar is an absolute mess of green and blue markers.

tighnari places a book over his eyes, groaning and slowly slinking his body down the living room couch. his variously shaded folders were scattered on one half of the coffee table. the other was a smattering of assorted papers, all trying to accomplish one more essay before the end of the semester.

"i swear, steric effect has never and will never relate to the functions of biology or plant sciences. i hate organic chemistry!" he blurted, throwing the book down.

"oy, don't treat your books like that. i know that thing costs at least five million mora," you scold softly. relenting, you sigh. "but you're right. it's unfair that all of our professors decided to dump our work right now. my statistics quiz went awfully because i was studying for my public speaking class. who the hell needs to know all thirteen logical fallacies for a communications class?!"

"here, i've been studying for way too long. i'll go make us a snack, and then we can take a break later, okay?" he pets your head as he heads to the kitchen.

you slump by your laptop, looking over your essay again. you knew that college course loads were going to be difficult, but your english professor assigning an essay yesterday and making it due two days after was absolutely ridiculous. and after this, you still had your history final on thursday, and three more analysis paragraphs for critical argumentation class, and--

you think you are going to die before you make it to the end of the semester.

tighnari comes back as you correct a few more spelling errors and cite a few more sources. he sets down a mug of tea in front of you, alongside some fresh fruit. sighing, he looks at the clock. "we've been doing nothing but study and go to class for the last five days. we should go to bed now."

you yawn at the suggestion, feeling that coffee you took at seven PM wearing off. "no, no, i gotta stay awake. this stupid paper is more important."

"your paper won't be worth anything if you oversleep tomorrow."

you blink once or twice at that remark slowly. if you were a little less sleepy, you would bark out some sarcastic response. instead, you sip the rest of your tea and lean back on the couch. you blink slower, and slower yet.

as your vision goes dark, you can hear tighnari sigh a little. "exhausted, i see. we'll have to incorporate some stress relieving tactics the rest of this week. healthy snacks, a run, peaceful music, and a long overdue nap is imminent," he murmurs, as if diagnosing you. he settles next to you, placing a blanket over both of your shoulders.

as you begin to sleep, he swears that your lips twitch up in a smile as you tilt to press against his chest.

[fanaticsnail]

Physics anon here. To the anon taking Physics I, then you should be fine. I hope you get in! Fingers crossed! 🤞🏻🤞🏻

To the math peeps, I am choosing to be Sanji for our duel, bcs even Sanji's flaming kicks are also physics based (/j). I love you all. Your love for math scares me but I also admire you guys because I had 2 breakdowns in my high school years over math (so fun). The only math I like is the "how much percentage in a tax is there" cus that has words and normal numbers. Get algebra away from me.

To the linguistics anon, I love you, be my best friend, I love humanities, I love linguistics, I love psychology, I love sociology, I can talk about them for days! I love humanities, in fact I would argue humanities and literature are sth I ADORE.

PLS GOD LINGUISTICS ANON TELL US SOME OF DOFFY'S LINES AND THE WAY HE SPEAKS, OH AND CROCODILE, TOO, AND ALL THE LITTLE PUNS ODA MAKES.

DO WE HAVE PSYCHOLOGY ANONS HERE BECAUSE EPISODE 723 DOFFY'S LAUGHING FIT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT I NEED TO STUDY IT FROM A PSYCHOLOGY POV like my brain is like needy for that like the ideas are there but I cannot put them into words. It sounded like an emotional breakdown and he sounded so sad but also angry so I was not sure whether he wanted a hug or not.

Also, Snail, I do not blame you for that nsfw thought of "how fucked would you be" bcs I had the same thought but was then "oh well 😏"

Okay, so G4 Luffy's speed calc? I'll try to find my notes but if anyone wants to play around it, here are the formulas you'll need & way of solving it all, it's really pretty simple, we are using Hooke's Law of elastic force to calculate Luffy's speed. We're gonna already give the spring constant cus it's easier and it's easier to show just how MUCH force Luffy needs for such speed.

Jet Speed of a commercial plane is 252 m/s. We'll go with this being G2 speed. Okay, easy. We will need a LOT of spring constant to counteract G4 Luffy's weight which is 300kg. Like, a LOT of spring constant. That means Luffy is also using a lot of elastic energy & kinetic force. And I mean above 10 million joules. Then again, joules represent a small amount of energy. It takes 100,000 joules to heat up water in standard conditions, so it isn't that much of a stretch. (Ha, rubber pun.)

Basic thing for this...

Elastic potential energy:

Ep = 1/2 • k • x²

k = spring constant (make it 40 million)

x = compression of the spring (make it 1 meter)

No need to calculate the Ep cus that isn't what we really need, though you can if you want to make the process quicker but this is so everyone understands.

Turn that into kinetic energy:

Ek= 1/2 • m • v²

m = mass of the object, G4 Luffy's weight, 300 kg since he is 4 meters tall in G4.

Equalize them:

1/2 kx²=1/2mv²

kx²=mv²

v²= kx²/m

v= √kx²/m (under the entire square root)

I got 365 m/s. That's 1314 km/h. That exceeds commercial jet-speed.

I can go into details in another post but this is the basics of it, unless you want to start from the actual scratch which I do not recommend bcs that means you have to put more big numbers to get the k that big. Better to already decide what the k is so we can get the big force and therefore big speed. We know the force needs to be big, as Doflamingo said it himself.

"Your punches lack heaviness." aka "Put a billion Newtons in it and then you'll have a shot against me."

To put it in irl perspective, billion joules is the equivalent of about 239 kilograms (527 pounds) of TNT blowing up.

Honestly I'm thinking the force of Luffy's final punch against Doflamingo was at least 8 billion Newtons. It's... A lot, but at this point, there are no limits. It's about 1.8 billion pounds force 👍🏻

Yeah. 😄

Cheers. Don't fight in Snail's inbox, you all from all fields are amazing ❤️

Physics anon. Physics anon. Oh my gosh, I am simply blown away by this calculation. Oh my gosh, the work you've done. I can't wait til chef-husband comes home to share with him this amazing calculation, you have no idea. He's gonna go:

The anon love for one another in my ask box lately is absolutely superb. I love the friendly fire and witty retorts you've all got. Always respect and humour, and I love you all.

The calculations of the hands Doffy caught from our short king of the pirates has me rolling. I'm legit howling.

Keep your equations coming, I love them. Learning through the power of sums and passions of the anons. Superb work 🥰🖤

[swaps55]

Snippet Sunday

Tagged by @cr-noble-writes. Thank you!!

Tagging @bioticbooty, @shadesofmauve, @pigeontheoneandonly, @laelior, @crescentbunny and anyone else who feels so inclined, no obligations!

From Mezzo.

~

Shepard lets go and takes a step back. Something red flashes in his eyes, eerily reminiscent of staring down Sovereign’s main gun. We rebuilt him, Lawson had told him. Like Shepard was a drive core that could be taken apart and put back together. The Two Billion Credit Man.

By comparison, Joker’s bone weave procedure had been a hell of a bargain. In addition to the Hero of the Citadel, you can also have a fucked-up pilot of your very own for a fraction of the price!

The Alliance hadn’t thought that was much of a deal. They wouldn’t even pay for the bone weave. Nice to know your life pencils better if you just ally yourself with terrorists. If Cerberus really wants to bump up their recruiting numbers, all they really need to do is lead with the health plan.     

“The Illusive Man said he had a pilot I could trust,” Shepard says.

“He may have been exaggerating. My track record isn’t great.”

I killed you. But here you are, alive. You, and my ship.

Shepard stares at him with that ice gaze, like he’s processing something and the gears got caught.

Coming back from the dead probably makes you think about a few things. Joker wouldn’t know. He hadn’t died. Because Shepard had done it in his place.

Why do you always have to be such a fucking savior?

“How did you get here?” Shepard asks finally. “Did you know about…whatever this is?” He nods out the window, at the silent, sleek Normandy that’s just as new and perfect as the one that had set out for Eden Prime three years ago. Like everything Joker wrought had been forgotten.

“Yeah,” Joker says with a nod. It was their biggest selling point. It…and you.

“This has to be bullshit. The Normandy is the only stealth frigate online. The Ain Jalut isn’t scheduled for shakedown for months. It’s—”

“Ain Jalut’s been flying for over a year now,” Joker says, guts twisting into a knot. And they didn’t put me at the helm. “Three more are in production now, last I heard. No idea how Cerberus got the specs, but she’s definitely an SR. I toured the ship this morning.”

And it had felt like coming home.

Except, instead of Pressly grouching about relay vectors from the CIC and Addison Chase gossiping about Felawa while Joker ran calcs, a disembodied AI calmly answered all of his questions.

If you can’t beat the enemy, join them, Joker supposes. Just throw in a few cushy upgrades like leather seats and a tricked-out lounge, and no one will notice the missing people Cerberus didn’t resurrect.

The ones whose lives didn’t pencil.  

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Tis the Damn Season

Day 4: Presentation

AO3

Honestly, Blaine was trying his darndest to pay attention to his classmates. This group was going on about existentialism and quoting Kierkegaard.

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”

He really was trying to listen. Of all of the philosophies the class discussed this semester, existentialism made the most sense to Blaine. It was all about taking life into your own hands, finding your own meaning in the day to day, personal freedom, etc…

Blaine was thankful his own group had gone first because by the third presentation he was losing focus fast and he liked Kierkegaard. But all he could think about was sharing a cup of coffee with Kurt merely two hours ago. Well, they didn’t really share the coffee. It was more of a coffee date. But not so much as a date as a “hey you’re here, I’m here, let’s sit together and drink warm beverages.”

He didn’t really know what to think about it. They had talked about school. Kurt was a year older than Blaine. He told him not to worry too much about his gen-ed classes because they really weren’t so bad.

“What math are you taking?” Kurt asked.

“Pre-calc.”

“Okay smarty, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. When you get to science though make sure you take Earth and Space with Willis. He’s the best professor in that department.”

Blaine asked him about his classes. Learning a little of what was to come. Apparently Dance with Cassie was a nightmare and a half. Blaine was already dreading it.

“Heading home for the holidays?” Blaine asked, curiously where home was for Kurt.

“I am. Last year I couldn’t really afford the plane ticket but I regretted it so much I started saving money in a separate bank account just for my trips home. You?”

It wasn’t that Blaine wasn’t missing home. He was. And he knew his friends from Dalton would be heading back too. He wanted to catch up with the Warblers—former and current. And Dalton was so pretty when it snowed.

But his parents had just come up for thanksgiving a few weeks ago. Blaine was excited to see his older brother, Cooper, who was flying in from California for the holidays.

“Yeah I’m heading home too, my brother is coming back. He lives on the West Coast. I only really see him twice a year so that’ll be nice.”

Blaine snapped back into class when the applause started. Finally the existialists were finished.

“I believe we have time for some last group,” his professor said. “Let’s get the nihilists up here.”